On The Invitation

Maybe you know what it’s like to be a social event and feel totally cut adrift.

Maybe you wore pantyhose and high heels and everyone else was bare-legged and sandalled. Maybe you couldn’t find your voice when everyone else wouldn’t stop theirs. Maybe you just feel terrified someone will ask you dance and worse than hanging on the edge, you’ll be front and centre and make a fool of yourself.

There you are cut off – in the midst of noise, action, laughter, conversation. Unnoticed and conspicuous both together – in some kind of cruel union of the worst of those things.

…. and he stretches out his hand to you…. looks into your eye with love and approval and maybe a hint of a smile…. and he invites you into the dance.

This dance isn’t one with special steps, where you can’t follow and you get all tangled up. This dance is both wild and graceful, serious and crazy. It’s a dance of everyone and only you. The eternal dance where you are embraced, and sung to and sung over. It’s a dance where you swept into the music like a small child is swept wildly round off the ground in the arms of a parent.

There you are – fully integrated, invigorated, breathless and all your carefully put together outfit and hair gets just as unruly.

…and right there in the centre of that dance you are invited to be never on the outer, never performing for anyone, not even for him. You are invited to participate and be integrated and be filled with the joy that comes from a crazy, whirling, responsive, spontaneous dance.

you are invited

He’d like you to say yes.


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