Tomorrow is My Birthday

Jane Austen once said that to be fond of dancing is a certain step toward falling in love. And I believe it's true. For me, dancing has always had a hypnotic effect, not unlike falling in love. The music swirls around me and I surrender. I turn and twirl and dip and weave. When I dance, I am Isadora Duncan, Martha Graham and Fred Astaire--all rolled into one. But most of all I am happy. I am in love with life. And even if there are troubles from within and without (as there always are), I will not let them keep me from dancing or from loving.

So yes, tomorrow is my birthday and I will turn seventy-one. A ripe old age.

What’s it like to be seventy-one? Well, I have yet to wrap my brain around the fact that I'm now in my seventies. How did that happen?

Nonetheless, I recently had this epiphany about death and how it must be like being weightless, free of person-hood. It must feel like floating up into the sky, weightless. And then, I thought, it must be the most amazing dance--kind of like Fred Astaire dancing on the ceiling. And it must be like falling in love, free from all inhibition. Free from worry. Just plain old free.

However, until that time of complete weightlessness arrives, I intend to dance. A lot. And love. A lot.

Creative Friends--you are born knowing how to dance. Everyone is. For you, the key to surrendering and letting go might be through music, but it also might come from cooking or walking, riding a bike downhill, leaping into the air to throw a basketball or just simply sitting in the front row of a movie theater and letting the story sweep you up in its arms and take you for a ride. Your assignment is to pay attention to what carries you away, makes you feel as if you are floating, weightless. And then, I want you to surrender to this feeling, and dance—not necessarily on the ceiling, but perhaps in your kitchen or backyard or down a city street. Dance. That's what I want from you, dear creative friends, for my 71st birthday.

Love,

Jamie