SOMETIMES TABLETOPS ARE FOR DANCING

“When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It's to enjoy each step along the way.”  - Wayne Dyer 

          Within the Future World area at Epcot theme park, there is a restaurant where one can eat a leisurely meal while observing a day of life on a modern farm. The restaurant revolves around “The Land”, where the day begins with the crowing of a rooster and ends with a glorious harvest moon.  Much of the food served in that restaurant is grown right in the greenhouses of “The Land”, which gives additional meaning to the phrase “feel good foods”.  Often, the meal can take longer than just one rotation, so if one really lingers over dinner, the rooster could crow three times or more during one meal, making it seem as though three days have passed.

          It’s been years since I’ve enjoyed a meal in that restaurant, but almost every day I have a reprise of the feeling that many days have passed while dining on the banquet of one day’s activities.  As my world keeps spinning faster and faster, the days have become too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the books I want to read, all the friends I wish to see and all the children I long to hug.

          Sometimes, my day seems like a circus performance, trying to keep all my plates spinning.  It’s often overwhelming. The challenge is to balance what I must do with what I enjoy and want to do, and that is not always easy. Fortunately there is usually a natural flow and ebb to all my activities, just so long as I don’t let myself get sucked into other people’s expectations.

          Like many of my friends, I find juggling a busy schedule to be demanding, albeit rewarding.  There are frustrating days when I end up without the time to do what I really want to do.  There are lazy, bummed out days when I get nothing done. There are even days with no expectations, even though I’m usually looking for new challenges to make me discover things about myself that make me grow.

          Between the crowing of my rooster in the morning, and the moment I turn out the light at night, I try to live a balanced life – work some, think some, learn some, exercise some, play with my plants, keep in touch with family and friends, enjoy some music, agonize over the news, and try to find time for writing, day-dreaming, and even meditating, when so inclined.

          I’m not trying to be perfect. There is something to be said for the occasional dash of depravity, which is why I save some time for occasionally crossing a line, or splurging on something ridiculous; and when I do something foolish or outrageous, I deliberately do it with enthusiasm.

          Each morning when my rooster crows, I check my calendar for scheduled activities, and then think about what other activities I might want to put on my plate for the day.  I consider my mood, the weather, and whether I want to play, work or dance.  I’m not talking about ballroom dancing.  I’m using the term dance as a synonym for frolicking, the kind of playful behavior that keeps us young. 

          The world will spin, as fast or as slow as will happen. I’ve learned that I don’t have control over that. My goal is to set my table with challenges, thoughtfulness and a generosity of spirit. Then I let the world rotate, trying to stay aware of the wonder and poetry that exists around me.  I look for rainbows, listen for oboes, and try to remember that sometimes tabletops are for dancing.