The buzz from last week’s visit from my college girlfriends lingers. That’s a good thing; you know you’ve had a fun time when the happy feeling stays with you even when you’ve come back to reality. So often this past week, I caught myself daydreaming in my work cubicle with a goofy smile on my face as I replayed moments from our trip to Sedona.
Two specific images warm my heart the most; both took place in the Spirit Room, the old saloon in the Connor Hotel, in Jerome. One is of Kathy grooving to the band. I can see her right now, eyes closed, shaking her head in time with the music, her right hand hitting the cymbals of an imaginary drum kit. Some people play air guitar; Kathy plays air drums.
The second is of Maggie on the dance floor. Maggie’s always been much more reserved than Kathy and I, and I hadn’t seen her do “the Maggie shuffle” in many, many years. The next day I told her how wonderful it was to see her dancing.
“Really?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “I never dance. I’m afraid I look stupid.”
What? For me, the most beautiful images of that trip were not of spectacular red-rock vistas, as glorious as they were, but of my dear girlfriends letting loose. Is there anything more joyful than seeing someone lose all inhibitions and fully dig on the present moment?
Ever notice a child giggling uncontrollably or playing with an imaginary friend? Children don’t give a crap about what people think of them; that’s why we find kids so endearing. The same goes for adults—even if you’re around that 50-year mark like Kathy, Maggie, and me, we’re most endearing when we freely share the essence of ourselves, especially when we’re having fun.
So keep on dancing, Maggie!
(And keep on making these new friends--he was cute.)