The Lenten Lesson of Letting Go

“Loose ankles!” The dance instructor shouted over the music and the tapping. I looked at my own ankles as I tried to mimic her movements. That was probably another rule broken – ‘Don’t look down!’ I am apparently a consistent rule breaker.

I glanced from my own rigid feet to my daughter’s. She moved smoothly, her black shoes kicking outward, the metal on their soles striking the floor musically as they did. Her toes tapped gracefully, fluidly. Loose ankles indeed were key.

“I can’t do this,” I laughed to her as we did Buffalos across the floor, she carefreely connecting steps while I continually tripped over mine.

“Mommy,” she encouraged. “You’ve got it! But your ankles are still too stiff. It’ll look better if you relax.”

I don’t normally take tap dance lessons. That’s clearly my daughter’s domain. But this was “Take Your Parent to Dance” week, so, here I was, self-consciously jerking from one foot to the other, trying to perfect something I was far from perfect at.

As I crossed the floor, trippingly out of sync with the tune the teacher demonstrated, she encouraged, “You’ll get it! It takes time to just let go.”

I understood what she meant. Most of my adult life has been one long lesson in letting go…

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