I can’t help it. The minute I hear “Come Fly With Me” or “Beyond the Sea” or “In the Mood” or “The Way You Look Tonight,” I know I was meant to put on my dancing shoes and be spun around the floor in the strong arms of an agile dance partner. Something in me comes alive when I dance – any kind of dance, but mostly swing dancing, Lindy Hop & East Coast … when the skirt spins and our arms are a kaleidoscope of movement and the fedora tips charmingly over his face and our feet move in perfect harmony – this is when my soul sighs in happiness.



And although I’m not the best dancer out there, I’m pretty sure I’d move in that direction if only I made more time for it. And I promise you that one day, I shall. Because someday, I want to be that cute little old couple who can still Lindy Hop like the best of them.



And he’ll put on “our” song & we’ll dance in the living room, my head on his shoulder, sweetly happy with all the memories of our dancing days together.

We could dance here …


Or maybe here …


Or this pretty place …


We could always dance in the rain …


Or under a full moon …


Under a bridge …


Maybe on the beach …


We could dance in the kitchen if none of those places are available … I don’t really care. We just have to dance and dance all of our lives. Because when you dance, everything else kind of doesn’t matter anymore. It’s a release of all your worries and you can’t help but smile.

Dance might not be able to solve all the problems, but for a few moments, it makes them fly away into oblivion.



He just has to promise to save the last dance for me, look me in the eyes and mean it, hold me close, and dip me at the end. And together, we can simply dance the dance of life together.