On The Journey Towards Hope

The movements of the dance had been large, knees rising and feet leaping beyond their usual bounds. One of the dancers, a middle-aged woman, lamented that she hadn't been able to do it. She found the dance too hard.
Lucy, another participant at the workshop, spoke up. "When we dance that dance, I know I can't do it, my creaky knees just can't take it. But I also know that I can do it." Lucy spoke softly but sounded very self-assured. If tall, thin and young are the ideal attributes of a dancer, Lucy broke all the rules, yet her place as mentor in the circle was transparent.
"When it comes time to leap and turn, I take a step, bringing my foot just a few inches from the floor, point my toe to move forward and gently come down. It's very little, but it's what I am able to do. But on the inside, I am leaping. My experience of the movement is not confined to the limits of what my body can do. I leap as high as anyone here just by being in the circle. When I make my 'little leap,' it continues way beyond the actual space it takes, and I just go with it."
There was silence. We all got it, and eyes all around brimmed with gratitude. Lucy's creaky knees held an unlimited capacity for hope.

- Carl MacMillan