dancing

my sister gave me some pictures that she and ricardo took on their vacation in romania, last june. she let me choose what i wanted.
the pictures i wanted most were of my two grandmothers: mamaia and bunica. they're beautiful, hartbreaking pictures. both my grandmothers are smiling genuine smiles, but you could tell that they've aged so much. they're standing right on the brink - the brink of non-being.

in one picture, mamaia is hugging roxi, and she's smiling a beautiful smile that makes me cry. she's holding on to her so tight that i wonder if they are not hurting each other. the other picture, the one of bunica is also beautiful and very simple: bunica is sitting down, holding a red geranium in her hand. she's looking to the side and offering it to someone. to my sister's baby, Julia, a symbolic gesture it seems to me, like letting go of that which is most precious and fleeting: life.

my sister also gave me another picture, at my request, one of herself and julia standing on the beach in portugal. the ocean is their background, and i can't help but think how appropiate an image this is for their life: (seemingly) infinite, open, full of possibility. beautiful. my sister and julia look stunning, their faces soft and open in the late afternoon light.

on saturday, i come home around noon, after having had couple of hours to myself, a wonderful treat. i am feeling great, energized, inspired, as usual after time alone. the house is empty, ed and the kids still out. i feel like dancing. i put on the music i like, and take out the three pictures from my sister. i put them up on the mantle, so i can see them and they can see me as i dance.

at first it's too intense. i can't look at any one picture for too long, especially the ones of my grandmothers, or else i'll start to cry. i keep dancing, glancing to the mantle only once in a while. i feel a bit self-conscious, like they're watching me. but i also feel too good to care. bit by bit i let go, moving the way i want to, no inhibition.

suddenly, an image comes to my mind. it's 25 years ago, or more. my sister and i are at mamaia's house. we're putting on a show for her.

mamaia is sitting on the bed. my sister and i are hiding in a tiny corner between her armoire and the wall. we've rummaged through the armoire already, and are now dressing ourselves in scarves, and other fancy clothes that we've picked out of her wardrobe. it doesn't matter that they don't fit us. we're pretending that we are stars in a show.

when we're satisfied with our appearance, it's time for our big entrance. we ask mamaia if she's ready, and she says she is. she's watching as my sister and i step out from behind the armoire. our performance consists of singing, dancing, reciting poetry, and just parading around the room in our fancy costumes. mamaia aplauds. she's our biggest fan, our only fan.

now, as i dance around the room, by myself, with my grandmother's and sister's pictures looking at me, i feel a strange connection to way back then, a closing of the circle. not only do i feel connected to them, but also to the little girl i was. i feel moved and healed by this experience. i realize one thing: that whatever hardships i may have encountered so far couldn't have damaged me too much if i can still dance like this, feel this good. maybe, on the contrary, they opened me to further experiences of joy and awareness.

dancing harder than ever, it seems appropriate that the song that touches me at the moment is called Utopia, and the only words in it i can understand (most of it is in arabic) are:
"i believe we can survive in Utopia
...
sing, sing children of the world,
to the One that we all are".