Just a little something that popped into my head while listening to the song 'New Beginning' by Audiomachine.


Speaking Without Words

Friendship is a language of meaning, not words.

Sunlight is streaming through the window behind her and all I can see is a silhouette, yet the vision is striking to say the least. Each movement of the graceful form is breathtaking and I stare in silent wonder. I had never imagined that it would be like this. I had figured it would be beautiful, but now I realize that the word could not even hope to describe what was happening before me.

I can still remember the time when Megan had first taken up dance. She had been so excited to know that someone was going to teach her. I remember the joy and the excitement that had bubbled up behind her dark brown eyes. I felt almost as excited as she did. Her happiness was catching as she tried her best to do what was asked of her by her teacher.

At first her movements were halting, timid almost, but slowly they began to find their confidence. Her arms showed signs of fluid grace and her legs took on the effortless power. A dancer was blossoming before my eyes and I felt a smile growing.

Next came the stamina, the ability to push through the tiring movements and exhausting routines. Her sheer determination so thick that I could almost see it pouring off of her, mixing with the sweat that came with the strength robbing exertion.

What I noticed the most though was one thing. Through every lesson, through every difficult move, through every failure, and through every victory Megan always carried a smile. She was doing something that she loved and there was no way she was going to let a little hard work get in the way of her enjoying herself. I loved her willingness to push through the hard parts to find the wonderful feeling of satisfaction that lay just beyond. So many people shy from hard work and here we are enjoying a life filled with hard work but no complaints can be heard. Work is not something to be scared of, it is something to be overcome and enjoyed.

Megan embraced the difficulties and let them push her to new heights, they were her drive and they were a force to be reckoned with. New boundaries were reached every day and still she continued to improve. I had always known that she would be good at dance, but I had never imagined just how deep of emotion she would be able to portray. So now while I sit and watch her dance in the fading light of day I can only wonder why I had never seen this kind of radiance in her character before. Her feet seem to not even touch the floor as she twirls and leaps across the room. It is as though she had always known how to dance, it is something that comes as natural as breathing. Though I know differently, I want to believe that she was born knowing.

The small group of musicians in the corner is playing a melody, something that Megan had requested them to play while she danced for me. I know that the music is special, but I almost don't hear it. Her dance draws me so deep into her feeling that I can't help but let go of everything else around me. And now I know why she wanted to learn. She had a story to tell and she wanted to tell me. For as long as I could remember I had tried so hard to listen but had never been able to get the whole message. It was never through her lack of trying, it just never seemed to find the right chord inside me. And so I had gone on struggling to truly hear what she had been trying so hard to tell me.

Dance had been the answer to the ongoing battle of communication. Now I understand. Now I see. Now I can hear that voiceless wonder that has been yelling at me the whole time.

Deep down Megan had an inner beauty wanting to get out and show the world what it could do. It had been clawing away at the walls that had been placed around it by a lack of self-confidence. Once a way out was found, that beauty quickly forced its way to the surface and made its presence known.

When the music fades and she dips forward in an elegant bow I am left speechless. I barely remember to clap my hands. This is true art. To tell a story, an emotion, an idea without words. This is beauty in its simplest of forms and Megan had somehow known that it was exactly what had been required to tell me what she needed to say.

As she comes up from the bow and our eyes lock, I find a deeper understanding of the real person behind the brown orbs looking back at me. And I know that she doesn't need me to dance to tell her just what I am thinking at that same moment. She already knows, because she had figured me out long ago.


Thoughts? Opinions?