I'm dancing in the sunbeams streaming through my bedroom window. Warm, soft, bright. I have a slight bounce and a small swivel propelled by spontaneous joy. Not to be confused with rock-hard movement anthems designed to pump-myself-up. This movement feels airy and free. My speaker wires sprawl out over my bed and my computer rests too close to the edge, but I'm dancing, dancing, dancing.
I spend the afternoon with the windows open cleaning out the (figurative) cobwebs and dark corners of my teenage bedroom, preparing it for this next step. Exorcising stale high school energy. Stripping my bed of the pillowcases that held my tears earlier this week, earlier this summer, earlier this year. I've declared "a new beginning" time and time and time again. And I'll declare it again, because tiny new beginnings still move time forward. Still move me forward. Make heavy feet feel lighter. I hold tighter to hope than I did the last time I grew in this room.
I found the light of my situation here, in these sunbeams, bouncing off the hardwood floor. I'm soaking them in and promising to release them when someone else needs them. I'm bringing in this new season with love and light. "Dar la luz" - to give birth in Spanish - literally translates "to give to the light." New beginnings, sunshine, and hope - Just keep me where the light is.