dancing to my own song

It is not loud. It does not announce itself. It is the kind of music you have to be already listening to to hear at all.

I have been keeping time to it for a long while now without knowing the name of the song, counting the measures under my breath through other rooms, other dances, the same tempo running underneath everything I learned to call my life.

The song does not hurry. It does not need to. A waltz knows where it is going because it has been there since the first three counts.

I am the lead. But to lead is not to pull. It is to know where the floor opens up next and trust the frame to carry the question across without speaking it.

What I am dancing to is the music of being exactly who I am at exactly the moment the music asked for it.

This is the sound of a man who has finally learned the song well enough to dance to it without watching his feet.