My ears are ringing. It is so unbelievably quiet.
It is a beautiful Sunday morning. I just came in from watching the sunrise with a quarter moon still over head. No one was out walking, the birds were still asleep, and there wasn’t even the slightest breeze to make the Aspen leaves quake.The light was soft and warm at the horizon with that cool turquoise above that says that fall is here. Inside, I can hear the clock ticking which just seems ridiculous. I notice the difference in the sound that my sweatshirt makes vs. the material of my socks. It is surreal. No dishwasher, washing machine or dryer running. Like most homes full of children and dogs, this house buzzes with activity until we collapse into bed at night.
Chris is always up at the very first glimpse of light outside. Today he is up in Wyoming fishing the Green River, so it was me who popped out of bed early to let the dogs out. Somehow, they even know it is Sunday and have gone back to bed, where I normally am. I have always wanted to be a morning person, but…. well…after 40 years… it’s still not looking hopeful.
It is nice though to sit in the quiet space of Chris. Where he starts his day with his coffee, listening to the world wake up. I can see why he loves it so much.
Yaaaawwwwwn!!!! Perhaps I should make some tea.
Sitting in his space, I feel that I can hear his heart beat instead of my own. It is strong and centered. It is steady and calm. And it doesn’t match the quick beat of my own. I try to breath in all the way to my toes to slow it down.
POP! (fortunately not my heart, but a great memory!)
I am back in Minnesota anxiously waiting for one of the great moments of my life. The lights dim and then on stage he appears wearing red pants and a wireless heart monitor. There stood Baryshnikov!
boom, boom, boom we can hear his heart at a steady resting pace.
I am so frustrated and caught off guard as my eyes well up with tears so he was blurry for a minute. The anticipation of getting to see him dance in person was immense. My own heart racing. I felt like a silly school girl, until he began to dance and I realized that it was so justified to see such incredible strength, grace and expression. He was stunning. He literally danced to the beat of his own heart which he slowed and quickened with his movements. (read more about HeartBeat: mb, here) He was powerful, beautiful and inspiring.
He was in control of every muscle in his body, moving in perfect harmony. And strangely, there was something about him that reminded me of Chris. It made no sense to me at the time and I kinda shrugged, chuckled to myself and then soaked up the rest of his performance and the rest of the show. I was so grateful that I had gotten to see Baryshnikov dance in person. Huge bucket list experience!
After the performance I couldn’t stop rambling on and on…. and on and on. And then my friend, Lori said that something about him reminded her of Chris. I couldn’t believe it. I told her too that I had thought the same and confessed I kinda giggled. We couldn’t pin point what it was, but there was some essence that we had both picked up on. It felt kinda crazy… and cool!
Sitting here now in Chris’s space and remembering back all of those years ago, the connection of grace, strength and control makes sense to me. Baryshnikov was dancing to his heart beat; his pure essence. Chris lives that way.
He is intentional, strong and even graceful in his being. And, I can’t believe I get to dance to life along side of him.
The birds are now all chirping and awake, a train whistle blows, neighbors are walking their dogs and a few cars make their way up the hill and out of the neighborhood. I am going to go make that tea and sit a little longer until the house starts buzzing again wondering what thought will pop up next and recognizing that this time is also a great moment of my life.
