A note to the little girl dancing

I ran another 5k this weekend. I placed 100-and-something and 15th (out of 29th) in my division. I've never been so thrilled to be average. The race course weaved through a beautiful neighborhood, and I love looking at real estate. As I admired the manicured lawns, I found an easy, steady pace. I studied each house and imagined how our family of five would fit in that particular space. Then somewhere along the way, I slipped into a daydream. I worked on scenes from my memoir in my head. A lot of my writing is happening away from the computer lately. Sometimes I have to visualize it before I can make it real on the page. 

I crossed the finish line and felt the urge to pass out. So I drank some water, breathed and kept walking, willing myself to stay conscious. And then I saw her: 

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The girl was dancing to "Call Me Maybe" and rocking it out. I rushed over to a friend and begged for her iPhone. She thought I was having an actual emergency, so I apologized and explained that oxygen might not be making it to my brain just yet, sorry for the panic.  Then I snapped a picture and started writing a note to her, in my head. It went something like this:

I want you to know that I see you. The way you are moving and shaking in your own world, glowing in your own light. You are as bright as the sun. 

It got me thinking about how you're attracting attention, and how you're not even aware of your audience. You are putting on a show for yourself, and it's glorious to watch. I am transported to another time. I look at you, and I see myself. The little girl I used to be. I miss her sometimes. I miss her openness and her honesty. I miss her unguarded heart. 

I wonder what would happen if you turned and saw me staring at you. I won't clap and shout, "Good job!" The magic would be lost. So I'm stepping back now, and I'm holding on to how it feels to watch you, and remember. 

 

Later, I stood in the kitchen with my own daughter and watched an amazing video. Actually, Cate clapped and bounced to the beat of the music, and I cried. My childhood friend Meg had heard the song while eating frozen yogurt with her kids, and then she found the video on YouTube and sent it to me. She said the song reminded her of me. The video reminds me of us.

This song is good for girls. This song is good for everyone. 

I can't get it out of my head. I LOVE it. Have you seen this yet? Go watch it now. Go.