Day Six Hundred Seventy

I'm feeling a little anxious about having exercised only one day this week. For once in my life I'm at this place where it's not for lack of motivation, just lack of time. I guess it's a good type of frustration (if there is such a thing)...most people don't suffer from "desire to exercise."

Took Z to an audition yesterday. And of course the kid who I normally can't keep from swinging on the ceiling fan and singing "Show Me What You Got Little Mama" at the top of his lungs was uncharacteristically shy and quiet in front of the people who want to pay him for acting crazy. Go figure.

While we were there, though, I was notably inspired by one of the little boys in Z's audition group. Most of the children in the room, including my own son, had apparently been too well trained by their parents to be polite and reserved in social situations. Each one would stand on the mark, state his name and age, and when asked to dance and get wild, would carefully shift his weight from one leg to the other with a half-smile, as if waiting for a disapproving remark from a nearby parent.

But there was one little boy with Down Syndrome who just lit up the room. He looked right into the camera, proudly said his name, and when the music started, he brought out some moves that had us all clapping and cheering. No inhibitions whatsoever, just pure joy. One minute he was jumping and clapping and spinning, the next he was on the floor breakdancing in a style all his own. Z and I watched with matching ear to ear grins and applauded loudly for this little boy who couldn't bring himself to stop dancing, even when the music had ended.

I left there a little jealous of that little boy. Wishing he could teach me how to let go like that. When I'm jogging on the bike path, or just walking through a crowded room...I need to remember him, put on that smile and enjoy each experience for me and only me.