I've always been a dancer of some sort or another. I was enamored with "Tina the Ballerina" and "The Nutcracker" as a little girl, and spent quite a bit of time doing pirouettes around the house. As I grew older, I became interested in Israeli folk dancing. I was a member of our Temple's youth Israeli folk dance group for several years during high school, which meant multiple rehearsals per week, practicing in bare feet on egg salad and tuna fish (left over from Saturday morning kiddush) and taking part in a dance competition and also a regional performance.
Twelve years later, I was back in Boston, and I found Israeli folk dancing again (or it found me). This time, I started dating a man, was introduced to a whole new group of people who became good friends, and spent several years dancing two or three times a week. I was even part of a performing group for several years.
Fast forward a few years, I was still dancing, and I met my husband, A. He wasn't an Israeli dancer, although he enjoying coming to dancing with me and socializing. Ultimately, we did an Israeli dance as the first dance at our wedding.
So... last night, at the annual (Christmas Eve) Israeli Dance Marathon (6 pm - 4 am, and no I didn't stay there the whole time), I saw my life pass before my eyes. There was the man I dated when I did Israeli dancing in high school; there was the man I dated when I did Israeli dancing in my late 20s; there was the man (well, my husband) who I married. It was kind of surreal.
And dancing is the thread that holds it all together...
And dancing is the thread that holds it all together...