Yesterday I was in the kitchen cooking dinner when Matthew came in to talk to me. I turned around to face him…
…and suddenly the world, and his face, came into focus again. Like the lens of a camera moving from blurry to crystal clear, I saw him, truly saw him, for the first time in months.
The relief of coming home, of waking up again, was almost too profound to write about. I don’t know where I was, but I wasn’t here. I wasn’t fully living. I wasn’t seeing the people I love. I wasn’t being myself.
And then I came home.
I don’t think that the timing is a coincidence. I’m sharing this partly as a reminder to myself: when I’m tired and resisting the dance, I want to remember this moment. This is what the dance can do…it can help me find my way home.