When I mentioned to Maria that I might sneak over to the County Fair to see the Mansion residents, she threatened my life.

When she said she was planning on going to her Belly Dancing Performance at the Bennington Museum Thursday evening,  I said, “of course  you are, and you should.”

I’m not sure what this says about either of us, except that we are perhaps a little crazy in a way that works for us. We know when to slow the other down and when to lift the other up.

I’m sure it would be wiser for her to stay home. She is still weak and shaky, especially in the afternoon, and a sane person would urge her to skip this. But as many people point out, nobody has ever confused me with sane.

Belly dancing is not just about dancing for Maria; it is also about liberation, identity, and a great coming out of self. In belly dancing, Maria discovered who she is, which has been a powerful and beneficial tonic. Of course, she should go.

There is no way I could stop her if I wanted to.

She spent hours this week making a head scarf, and we agreed that she should dance for as much or as little as possible. Her fellow dancers are extraordinarily empathetic and supportive; they will keep a close eye on her.

She came into my office and said she was nervous she might screw up, and I told her to embrace the Liz Chaney idea – by screwing up, she would be reborn and be nothing but a hero. Another profile in courage. Sometimes in life, you have to show up.

 

She told me I shouldn’t go, but that will not fly. We’re going to go together; I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Two performances in a couple of hours, 15 minutes for each one. She will need somebody to drive her home, I bet.

She is her cheerleader now, and belly dancing has much to do with it.