Equinox

Equal parts day and night.

That's what equinox is supposed to be. Twice a year we hit that perfect moment of balance where the distance between dawn and dusk is 12 hours. A moment of celestial and earthbound harmony.

So why do I feel so unbalanced?

Since I was a child, I've struggled for balance. I lacked it completely in my formative years. My father, an alcohol and drug abusing Vietnam veteran, never had it himself and was incapable of passing on any sense of security to me. What peace and stability I have come by has been of my own creation.

Yet as an adult, I struggle with control. I have this deep overwhelming desire to be in contol of everything. From the biggest issue, to the smallest detail I must maintain all options over any outcome, or I become a wreck. Both of my exes consider me a control freak.

I have to agree with them.

I've been country and western dancing for about 15 years now and it wasn't until this past April when I finally began to learn to follow. I tried to learn to follow when I first started. God knows I tried.

I was a disaster. Unmitigated. Total. Abject. Falure at following. I was about to give up when a sharp eyed dance instructor pulled me aside and asked a rather pointed question;

"Honey what do you like in bed?"

Thinking this was the worst pick up line I had ever heard (though he was cute, but I digress,) I said;

"I'm sorry, but that's a little personal given I'm just here to learn to dance".

He smiled and said;

"Just answer the question, are you a top or bottom? I only ask because it will make this easier for you if I know."

Amazed at his candor but eager to figure out where on earth he was going with this I replied,

"I like to pitch."

His reply was one word,

"Lead."

I've been leading ever since.

It's stereotypical for sure, but once I was starting off facing the line of dance and not having my back to it, I was like a duck in water. It came easy. It was graceful.

I was good.

But with all the drama of this year, a former partner who's changing sexes on me, a lost job and turning 40, I figured in for a penny in for a pound right? I made an agreement with myself that I would begin to surrender control and just let things happen. After years of needing to be in control, it was time to take a break and let someone else worry about it.

Which brings me to following and Lawrence.

My friend Lawrence asked me to dance the first night I returned back to country and western dancing. Tall, handsome and incredibly sweet Lawrence is an amazing dancer. Fearless on the floor he leads as gracefully as he follows. The man knows every line dance. Gifted with boundless energy and a disarming charm, Lawrence makes all of his dance partners feel at ease.

So on that first 2 step, I explained to Lawrence that in all the time I've been dancing I'd never learned to follow. A mischevious grin breaks across his face. Lawrence has a mission.

Never give a Taurean a mission.

On the ensuing dance I find myself facing the wrong way. Lawrence is a stern but patient teacher. He pardons my failings. He's generous with praise and tactful with corrections. He is everything a good instructor should be.

Best of all, he doesn't let me quit. As I find myself in this odd position of being out of control, I sense the fear welling. What if I make a mistake? Oh my God, what if I look bad in front of all of these people?!?! And on my first night back?!?!

Good Lord Mary, get over it.

I did.

It still doesn't feel natural to me, but I am becoming a better follow. Time, the patience of good leads and my willingness to be open will only allow me to improve. I am becoming ok with leaving someone else in charge for a change, well at least on the dance floor.

Only time will tell about the rest.

So last night, I ran into the flyboy. The handsome doctor/lawyer whom I wrote a bit ungenerously about a couple of weeks ago. He's sweet and kind, and my literary treatment of him did not do him the justice he deserves.

He and I danced last night. It was glorious to hold him even if it was for only a few transitory moments. We chatted a bit and it was there. Still. This odd sense of attaction. On both our parts, and for a moment, it felt like he gave into it. But as with a couple of weeks ago, he pulled away.

It's maddening.

I would like there to be more, but I know I can't push. All I can do is be me, and if that is enough then he'll respond. The rest is out of my hands.

Wait! That means it's out of my control.

*sigh* Maddening indeed.