One (of a thousand) things I’ve let slide in the last year of struggles is one of my most favoritest: dance.
I haven’t been to belly dance class since at least last summer, haven’t learned any new moves or choreographies, and have barely practiced on my own.
I told myself that “when everything was more under control”, that I’d go back.
Well, that “everything” got under some sort of “control”, but then recovering from that was exhausting, and then healing stuff that’s been askew in my life forever is too all over the place.
The thing is I know not to wait for life to get to back to “normal” before living it. I’m already living it, however it comes. Live it like I want it to be.
So when a buddy said, “Hey, let’s try this West African dance class,” I said, “Sure!”