My friend Jesse is a dancer. We met in seventh grade and I’ve seen him dance everywhere since. Even then, in middle school – that most unfortunate of times for nearly everyone – Jesse danced through the halls, on the sidewalk, down the narrow school bus aisles…
He couldn’t help it then and he can’t now. Dancing is just part of his soul. He’s both graceful and full of grace: a rare gift.
I got together with Jesse at a local coffee shop last week. He danced in with a big grin on his face and we caught up on each other’s lives.
As usual, though, he listened more than he talked, interjecting witty comments here and there along with appropriate eye rolls and laughter. We talked about the state of our nation, how I’m doing with fighting my anxiety, stories about my kid, and the new Justin Timberlake/Anna Kendrick cover of True Colors. (It’s really great.) From deep to shallow, we covered it all.
And then I woke up.
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