Dancing in the dark hallway alone, but feeling watched. My shadow is illuminated by the eerie glow of the red “EXIT” signs and the harsh glare of the floodlight outside.
Fragments of people I long to be close to, and remember the sound of their voice trickle through my tired mind as I look at the darkened fountain that takes up space outside.
Free and confined at the same time. How can that be?
Free to be who I am, but confined by my own expectations. Free to work and earn a living, but confined by rules and regulations. Free to grow, but confined by habit. Free to break habit, but confined by resistance. Free but confined at the same time.
Free to feel whatever I want, but confined by loneliness. Free to be present in my own life, but confined by a crippling sense of fear.
Fear of trust. Fear of understanding. Fear of sorrow. Fear of myself. Fear of growing up. Fear of loneliness.
Presence in my own life is a frightening idea. To be totally present seems unsatisfying and unearned. Free to be confident, but confined by a sense of weakness and worthlessness. The idea of being totally present in my own life seems unsatisfying because I will be proving to people that I can stand on my own feet. To be present in my life means that I am living my own life, that I’ve made it, so to speak. While I may seem strong enough for people to rely on me due to my presence, some may think I’m so present that I won’t have to rely on others. Some may see me as totally present and therefore not needing love, or care.
So I have grown used to staying slightly off center from total presence. I have grown used to staying slightly disengaged from reality. Fear of self, fear of complete joy, fear of being totally capable on my own, and fear of loneliness has kept me from being present.
Consumed by the dark hallway. Scared and yet fascinated by my own shadow. I dance to find freedom in myself. I dance in an effort to crawl towards joy. I dance to procrastinate. I dance so I won’t have to go to bed and face the new day that lies ahead. I dance to escape my feelings and to try to find new ones. I dance to ignite my imagination, to encourage the fragments of people I long to see and hear to come out and play, and I dance to forget about myself.