Dancing with Attraction IX

I could hardly wait for the next dance, not to see her, but to continue enjoying this new way of dancing. I arrived early and didn’t even notice when she came in. While thoroughly enjoying myself moving all over the dance floor and connecting with several dance partners, at one point, she was in front of me. She was even looking at me. Though a little surprised, I wasn’t shocked like I’d been weeks before. I looked back calmly and an unaffected smile crossed my face. She smiled, too. We even enjoyed a few moves together, though it was nothing like the partner dances I was used to seeing her do with other men. This mini-exchange happened twice more that night. Thoroughly satisfied to have kept to the rhythm of my own dance, even with her, I drove home without making up stories about what they meant or what the future held. I merely enjoyed them for the moments they were and nothing more. I did wonder briefly if, in focusing on myself, my attraction to this woman had dissolved for it no longer seemed to matter if I ever partner danced with her. My hopes and expectations no longer crowded out what was happening now.
At the next dance, this momentum continued. With sweet moments of delightful variations in dances both on my own and with others, I sunk into a rhythm that was more than just self-generated. All the dancers seemed to be in sync with one another and the entire dance floor vibrated as if it were its own living, breathing organism. I found myself in the middle of the floor relishing the experience. To further enhance the pleasure, I closed my eyes for one my “dance meditations.” When I opened them, she was right in front of me. As if on cue, our hands come together and we’re dancing. But I had no time to think about it. The music speeds up and we’re whirling. Faster and faster, the background became a blur. The only thing I could do to keep from getting dizzy was look into her eyes. It was the same for her and our eyes locked onto one another’s.
I don’t know how long we spin—ten seconds or two minutes—but when the song ended, we stopped and let go of each other’s hands. I felt woozy briefly, but a huge smile soon crossed my face. Her look began as a mixture of disbelief and shock, but then seemed to linger with a seeming curiosity. I bowed in gratitude. She stumbled away as if a little drunk.
The second she left, another woman stepped in front of me, reached for my hands and announced, “I want to do that.” In a mild state of shock, I obeyed and spun this new partner through the next song. Though not rising to the same intensity, she thanked me afterwards as if pleased to have received what she wanted.
We didn’t see each other for the rest of the dance, but it didn’t matter. My whole body smiled all the way home. It smiled anytime I thought of that glorious experience over the next few weeks. [It even smiles as I write about it years later.]