I'm not a big country music fan. I like some of it, but too much of it seems to be the kind that talks about running around on your wife, drinking, etc. There are exceptions to the rule, and one that is, and is one of my favorites is "I Hope You Dance." Originally done by LeeAnn Womack. Anyone who pays attention to the song at all, knows that it isn't talking about a literal dance:
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin'
Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin'
Don't let some Hellbent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to sellin' out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along)
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder, where those years have gone?)
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along)
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder, where those years have gone?)
I'm about to turn another year older in 3 days. Forty-three. Turning forty was rough, and I get depressed about each birthday since, although not quite as bad. As the one line of the song says, "who wants to look back on their years and wonder where those years have gone?" That's me. I look back over the 43 years I have lived, and wonder where on earth did they go? What have I done, accomplished? And I don't like what I see.
If life is a dance, I have spent most of it sitting on the chairs along the wall, watching everyone else dance.
In school: I never put myself into my schoolwork, always doing just enough to pass, and barely that. I hated sports and was forced to play them for gym class, so I just occupied a space. That may have led to some of the bullying I received.
College: I had no idea what to do with my life. Even back then, I had no confidence in my abilities to much of anything. My self esteem had been shattered in school. I stayed in college mostly because I didn't know what else to do. And again, I did just enough to pass.
Since then, I have held steady jobs, but for the most part they were nothing I enjoyed much, much less loved. I never got any more self confidence and aimed at jobs I knew I could do without failing. Minimum wage jobs.
I ventured off of the chairs along the wall a few times. I got pretty involved in my church. Played the piano fairly often, became a frequent speaker. But then the "powers that be" became unhappy with some things I said, even though they lined up with the church's beliefs and practices, and I got thrown off the dance floor. I was hurt, angry, felt let down, but resigned myself to watching the other dancers.
I've never been very good at making friends. Part of it, is I always felt so inferior. I didn't like myself, and figured no one else could. I have always been a very lonely person. As I have gotten older, it has gotten worse. Marriage is out of the question, and there just aren't many single guys around my age. However, I found one and we became very good friends. Same church background and a lot of other things in common. There was a problem...... he was 400 miles away.
In 2006, I did something I rarely do. I took a risk, made a big decision on my own, and moved those 400 miles. It went over like a lead balloon with my family. I lived there for two years, and for two years, I danced. If you have gone long periods of time with no real companionship, with no one to call up and go out for a meal or shopping with, then you cannot imagine what it was like for me to have a friend to do that stuff with all the time. It was like water to a guy in the desert. During that time, my normal struggles were at a low ebb, lower than in years. I love my family, but I was totally independent for the first time in my life, and I thrived. I went to a church where no one knew me and I didn't feel like everyone was watching me to make sure I kept all of the rules. Oh, I didn't change my behavior, but I didn't feel so "watched."
However, in June of 2008, I moved back to Ohio. I was tired of living with the cold disapproval of my family for moving away, and there was a couple of other issues. With my move, it seemed once again I moved from the dance floor to the chairs along the wall. Again, I moved back under the thumb of my family and my church. And I sat.
And now, as I eye my 43th birthday approaching, I also eye the dance floor and wish I could dance. I wish I could live life to the fullest. Live how I want to live - according to what God wants, not according to how my family and church want me to live. I wish I could truly believe God loves me and that I could serve Him because I love Him, not because I fear His wrath and Hell.
I wish I could find a job I really like and that paid enough that I could live without worrying if I was going to make it to the next paycheck. I wish I could live near my best friend, yet see my family on a fairly regular basis. I wish I could look at the person in the mirror and like him, instead of hating everything about him.
I wish I didn't dread tomorrow. That I didn't cry when I think about growing old. Alone.
I wish I could make a difference.
I wish that I could quit my current job.
I wish I that I could dance.
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