Did you ever notice that it seems that you do not miss something until it reappears in your life?
It is only when it is possible to embrace it as a missing piece, and welcome its return that you notice its previous absence.
But what does it take for what was missing to reappear?
The answer to this question unfolded in my life just recently, and the depth of what was revealed is profound.
You see, I love to dance. I love to move to music. The sounds of music fill me and generate movements that express how I feel while immersed in the music. I feel a freedom of expression of joy that borders on ecstasy. It takes me out of my mind, out of a sense of a limited self, and merges me with the sounds, the environment, and everyone in it. It is pure joy of living.
Lately, I have asked myself, “Why don’t you dance anymore?” I have even made pacts with roommates to put on music and dance, and it has not happened. I have talked about it to my accountability partner, thinking I want to dance, knowing I would like to dance, but yet I did not put on the dance music.
This has come up year after year, asking myself the same question “why don’t you dance anymore?” with still the same results – no dancing. I thought all I had to do was hit play on an album loaded on my computer, and I would dance. But no.
Until this last weekend. When the missing piece appeared in my life.
It was not anything that I did that changed things. It was not hitting the play button on a lively album on my computer that started me dancing. It was not forcing myself, cajoling myself, or even berating myself for not dancing. I was not even thinking of dancing when it happened.
I helped a new roommate move in last week. Krista is a tech person with computers with a passion in quality sound equipment. Not just a passion: she cannot live without “her sound.” At the point that she was about to set up her sound system, she had an idea.
She had just taken in a sound system in her business for resale, and recommended I check it out. I was hesitant because I had not even thought about investing in a sound system. I said, “I finally have a bit of extra money, and have to be careful that I don’t fritter it away.” Besides, I thought that all I have to do is hit play on the album loaded on my computer, right?
Wrong. I never did.
Fortunately, I am committed to noticing what the Universe is presenting to me, and being open to changes, big and little. It is part of my spiritual practice. So, I noticed that I was being presented with a quality sound system, so I had to say yes to checking it out.
As Krista was setting up the sound system in my house, I scrounged in the far reaches of cabinets where I had stashed my CDs and even cassette tapes, the oldies and the goodies. It brought back a lot of memories. I compiled them and chose one to be the first one to hear on this sound system. She emphasized that the first sounds I hear will set the tone for how I will use the sound system.
I chose a Joan Armatrading “best of” album. It reminded me of when I lived in a household of 20-somethings where we had a communal sound system in our living and cooking space. We each chipped in for a component to the system so that we could get the best quality possible. My roommates introduced me to Miles Davis, Patti Smith, and even Meat Loaf, and of course, Joan Armatrading. These were good times, full of possibilities of life and living into those possibilities.
We would join with others in dance parties, expressing ourselves, feeling free and moving to the music. I chose Joan Armatrading to remind me of this.
When the sound came on, I was blown away. The sound was exquisite. Krista had connected the Klepsch speakers, not with your ordinary speaker wire, but with heavy duty speaker wire. The speakers were handmade and individually inspected and signed – not your discount store speakers. The result was that I heard things in the music that I had never heard before.
Moving to the kitchen, the sound flooded up the vaulted ceiling then down as if there were no barrier. I went to my library, and the music flooded in there too. Something indescribable was happening to me in my house. I knew then that this sound system was a keeper.
Not only did the music remind me of past good times, I spontaneously started moving. Hearing the actual quality of the music, I could express myself with the emotions of the music, and I danced. I picked up my dog, cradled him in my arms, and we danced together. We finished out the song. He loved it.
I loved it. It was a missing piece that I had not realized was missing. I rediscovered a joy and depth of feeling that I had forgotten. This feeling was brought out by music. And I danced.
By being open to what the Universe was presenting to me, I was gifted this piece of myself which had been hidden, unexpressed. I no longer have to ask myself, “Why don’t you dance anymore?” because I do.
All it took was being moved by the full-body experience of the sound of the music. Computer sound did not cut it. The sound infusing my whole house was what it took to get me dancing again.
And the sound system came effortlessly, with high quality, by saying yes to what was being presented to me. What a gift! What a magical dance with life!
