You’re Never too Old to Dance
On “Poetry in Motion”
January 23rd, 2024
Nantucket, MA
I’m in a dance studio for the first time in almost 3 decades and I’m being asked to move organically with subtle suggestions set to ambient music.
{photo: Dan Driscoll}
I sneak a peak at myself in the mirror and try not to cringe.
What am I doing? I ask myself. Why did I think this was a good idea?
I am by far the oldest person in the room.
I’m not sure what to do with my arms. Also, where are my legs? Is my head actually attached to the rest of my body? I should leave. Then, quite suddenly, I’m moving. Quietly at first, but technically it’s still movement. It’s something. I kind of remember this. I begin to move faster. I’m moving bigger and filling up more space. It’s starting to feel… familiar?
{photo: Dan Driscoll}
Yes, they still reach through the air and slide across the floor these arms and legs of mine. Maybe I’m telling them where to go, but it feels more instinctive. Animalistic. Just like primordial magic, it happens. I am dancing.
The awkwardness dissipates. I am creating even larger movements now and can feel the fear leaving my body.I am not too old to arch my back or sway my hips.
My chest swells and my legs lift off the ground.I close my eyes and feel something pushing to the surface. The memory of uninhibited movement and connectivity is stinging the surface of my skin.
I am moving with fluidity and grace.
I belong.
After 27 years away from lyrical dance, I am still a dancer.
