Je Suis Une Danseuse

“Je suis une danseuse”. These are the words spoken by the main character in my novel to the elderly Frenchman who sits beside her on the flight to Paris. “I am a dancer”, she declares, speaking straight from the heart that motivates her every gesture. 

I wrote the words for Lily to speak, in some way calling up my own convictions from a former life. At the age of sixty-five, my speaking of the words tends to be somewhat apologetic, coming as they do from a heart that hesitates in the face of accumulated years and physical changes.  If there were just one prayer to pray on this Valentine’s Sunday, it would be that my heart would regain faith enough for the present dance to wing its way beyond its hesitancy. If my heart might dance again with all the power born of love released, my perception of my body as an aged and inferior instrument would fall away. Then I would be the valentine I long to send: I am a dancer.

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2 Responses to “Je Suis Une Danseuse”

  1. Kendall Says:

    Yes, Leif, you are a dancer. You have always been a dancer. From the womb to the grave. You are a dancer. That’s what you do. That’s what you are. That’s how you make life. No matter what the instrument does, you are a dancer. That’s neither good nor bad. It just IS. Yes to what is. Yes, yes, yes.

  2. leiflife Says:

    Oh, honey, I do know how silly I am to doubt what simply is. But as you said the other day when you spoke of the pain of love, “I am human”. Yes, my precious friend, we are human. But I thank you for being the one to receive my valentine, and tossing my heart’s dance back to me –
    again and again and again.

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