When I was 13, my parents separated. That was sad
and ended my dance classes, but
I always wanted to dance again and
now, decades later, my new opportunity at the YMCA
rekindles my passion.

Offerings such as tap, ballet, belly and Latin Dance
intrigued me. It was too hard to choose, so I signed up
for all classes. For four days a week I’m performing tap routines,
Plies, hip thrusts and Sambas with lively groups of
women, some older, most younger.

We give it our all, fascinated to see
how we progress from awkwardness to grace
after a few weeks. I cannot keep my feet or hips
still once the music starts. I have become reacquainted
with the rhythm in my soles.

Many like to exercise using machines, but my heart
races when the dance instructors put us
through our paces. As we leap and grind, “Shuffle
off to Buffalo,” or twirl our scarves in seductive
swoops, my joy grows huge.

If one’s heart is young, it is never too late to pick
up the beat wherever circumstances interrupt.
Our passions never wane when we seize another chance.
Often, later is better when we continue our dance.