The Dance

I just read a wonderful essay a book club "mini me" wrote for a college class. She talked about her Mom and threw in Matisse's Dance painting and some Joan Didion and some Thoreau to describe how her own past and more recent adventures hold her up, support her, during this "dance" through life. The kid's going to be alright. It reminded me of who I hold on to, who comes in and out of the circle (even after I step on toes or squeeze too hard), the Thanksgiving weekend with family, the digging into tamale cornmeal, the sitting with a friend and another little, really little, mini me, to see cool writer, Aimee Bender, lemon cake included, surrounded by ASU energy that held me up way back when, good news today from my own mini me about her future and how happy I am that she's strong enough to hold up the circle and then my middle of the day, escape from work, yoga class where the dance continued and we went in deep, where the world isn't spinning.

Wanna dance?