The Universe twists and twirls in a dance only to its own accord and following a rhythm known to no one but itself. We’re yet to prove our worthiness of something more, is what I believe. The grand old Universe is under no obligation to make any sense to any of us, is the way Neil deGrasse Tyson phrased it, but that shouldn’t stop us from still trying to learn the steps – our steps – and join in the party as best as we can. Awkward, silly, broken and limping, shy and self-conscious. No matter, there’ll always be someone willing to dance along.
Call me a cynic if you will, but I’m so happy the Valentine’s (and Galentine’s and what not) madness is over, for the year at least.
There’s been so much talk about love these few days, and for those who’ve not reached a level of emotional maturity where celebrating the small and great alike has become part of everyday life, I can understand why having a pin in the calendar a few times a year can help with not getting completely
buried under the mundane. But if we make an effort to look beyond the Pepto Bismol-colored clichés, it becomes clear that it all runs much deeper. The dance is much more sensual and much more filled with thoughtfulness than these little nothings let on.
What I’ve been noticing a lot around me (and Netflix has been brilliant at reinforcing for a few weeks now via mind-bending flicks like Russian Doll and The Umbrella Academy) is that trust is harder to come by than strawberries used to be in the winter. Understandably so – it’s one of the aspects of our day to day interactions we struggle with the most. The heartbreaks, the betrayals to a minute or a huge extent, the broken promises, the not showing ups, the always maybes and we’ll sees.
What we fail to grasp is that while connection might be instant, trust is something earned (and lost) in the tiniest of increments.
I’m lucky enough to have people around me that I’m still in awe of for their capacity to accept me as I am. Remembering how I came to meet some of them, a slight shiver goes down my spine at the thought that I might have decided against taking a leap of faith. It’s thanks to these moments of ‘weakness’, moments of ‘sure, let’s give this a try’, of ‘what’s the worst that can happen?’ and moments of ‘daring to step off the sidewalk’ that I’ve managed to surround myself with people one can only dream of having as friends. Oh, the stories I could tell you of how it all started!
Little by little, we’ve shared laughs, concerts in the rain, road trips, movies, shots, tears, stories, glasses of wine, worries, fears and dreams. And we’ve danced like nobody was watching, all along knowing we had each other’s backs if ever life got to us.
In the back of my mind, along with the feeling of gratefulness, the inner critic hasn’t fallen asleep on the job. It’s relentless in asking why these amazing people stick around and what’s so great about me to deserve them and their trust. I answer it: “I don’t know, but I have to trust they do. Maybe they just like to dance.” So I say cheers and raise a glass to all of them, hoping they keep trusting me to not step on their feet while dancing to this wild and unpredictable music.