Dancing Upside Down

I need to use my own words...

In October of 2011, I did four little writing projects: my life story in 150 words or less. Yesterday, while revising a larger project, I was sifting through some of my old pieces in search of a particular one to assist me with that larger revision. The piece I was looking for was one of those four short projects and was saved with the other three. When I pulled them up, I realized I could use my old words just as I was using other writers' old words. The Dancing Upside Down Snoopy was just what I needed to read, so maybe it's just what someone else might need to read too. (I did blog about this one when it first happened in September 2011, but this version is a bit different, not only for its brevity, but because I wrote it to encompass more of my life.)

I will print one piece each day for the next four days, just...because...they are my words and that is what a blog is supposed to be...


My dad always loved Snoopy. On a particularly dissonant day in September, I placed a dancing Snoopy sticker in my journal to somehow ensure my dad's guiding presence. The next day, I realized I had inadvertently stuck Snoopy upside down...

During my first thirty-three years of life, people doubted and awed as I deftly managed my riotously convulsing father through his daily grand mal seizures. To them it was improbable and precarious. To me it was just life. I danced when others could not hear the melody.

That day to day training taught me to flex and flow and be supple of spirit. My husband lives in Arizona while I raise our kids here in Michigan. Though we chose, we never expected...nearly three years now...but we dance. Even when we look or feel upside down, we find harmony and we dance. Thanks, Dad.