Dancing

My sister and I were talking about taking dance lessons with our respective husbands. They, of course, laugh hysterically at the idea that they would take dance lessons. In the words of my brother in law, "I'm already married, so what do I need to do that for?"

My reply was along the lines of 'Yeah, but do you want to STAY married?!?"

Why don't men get it?

Dancing is an expression of romance that goes beyond the lit candles and inviting atmosphere to a measured exercise of shared chemistry set to music. It's sexy. It's passionate. And it is most decidedly intimate. It is a couples only event that doesn't lend itself to a group.

There is something incredibly sensual about dancing that doesn't have anything to do with 'dirty dancing'.

Far from it.

The union of music and rhythm combined with the smooth movement of a couple manuvering blissfully through the interwoven melody is a consuming thing. It is a smoldering heat that is only enhanced by the understanding that for a married couple, you know for sure who you are going home with, and, the added elemental heat of all of the reasons why you chose to go home to them and them alone.

Among all of the people who populate the planet, you find yourself wrapped up in the arms of and involved totally emotionally with the one person you cannot live without.

To feel the safe warmth of their hand touching yours and to move with a combined and shared purpose across the floor is to emulate what our journey through life can be.

No one said it had to be flawless to be beautiful. And it need not be perfection to be totally wonderful.

I like listening to the kind of music that we used to put on when we first started dating. That mellow jazz that reminds me of a dimly lit and cozy supper club where a skillful singer wove a tapestry of love from the words and music of a soulful combo that left as much to the imagination as they provided with their careful phrasing and intonation.

We have become too wrapped up in the day to day to recall the moments that made two separate people choose to become one.

Within the counterpoint of the song, I remember a much younger woman smiling at a much younger man. Anticipation was as much a part of the evening as was the dance itself.

Maybe that is what is really the appeal of dance lessons. A change from the routine of what has become normal, accustomed and all too comfortable. There isn't much of the tingle and thrill of what might be if only given the chance. What just might happen if . . .

It's time to light some candles, set the mood and ask the one burning question that desperately needs to be asked.

"May I have this dance. . .and every dance that follows, until the end of time, with you?"