March 21, 2009

Dreaming of dancing

In the morning, I lie in bed, listening to a radio station that plays a lot of my favorite tunes. I'm curled up under my covers, which I can't feel touching me, in a comfy viscoelastic mattress pad, which I can't sense. My body, weightless from lack of sensation, feels like air. In my mind, I start to dance - wild, Flashdance like pirouettes of grace and charm, spinning effortlessly, kicking my legs to impossible heights, twirling twirling, hair flowing outward, my neck supple and smooth, articulating my steps.
Today, I am totally light, airy, purged of the ropes that tie me to this earth. I spin and twirl for several songs, then stretch.
Time to start another day. I creak to a standing position, wincing with pain, lurching to my favored left side where my brain sends me regularly, grabbing the wall for support as I pull myself, crablike, down the hallway.
But in my mind, if I close my eyes, I can still see myself dancing, spinning, filled with forgotten joy of movement. I can't help but smile.

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