I wish I could dance...

... but not with joy.

Dancing as a way to forget.  Dancing as a way to express yearning.  Dancing as a way to mourn.  Dancing as a way to escape.

I can't dance right now.  Some days I can barely walk without supporting myself, and more often not without pain.

According to some people I know, I first need to figure out what I am trying to forget.  What I yearn for.  What I mourn.  What I seek to escape from. All so I can "deal with them."  The truth shall set you free.*

Really?

I know the answers to all those questions.  And all the knowing in the world will not fix a damn one of them.  The solutions to them I am working on, but they are mainly out of my control, within the hands of other people or the world at large.

I should be thankful. I have a roof over my head, my kids will not have to worry about where their next meal comes from.  While I am definitely in the 99%,  I am certainly towards the top. I have enough clothes, and shoes (I would have more, but I hate shoes and shoe shopping).  I have health care and insurance.

I am thankful for all those things.  But somewhere along the line Maslow's hierarchy does come into play. Not to mention watching other people whom you love struggle mightily with their own place in the world. Maybe dancing would help.

As Emma Goldman said, "If I can't dance, I don't want to be part of your revolution."

She had her priorities in order.

*Of course, as James Garfield reportedly said, the truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.