The World Will Need Dancers

Survival

From the bedroom window

I can hear birds

Chattering among branches pregnant with budding leaves

Hyacinth and cherry blossoms are already blooming

The magnolia will soon follow.

It occurs to me how much of life

Is oblivious to the unrelenting, destructive march of a virus

That will kill many

Disrupt us all.

Even as I write, our black cat is nudging my hand

Her soft face warm against my skin.

The unknown.

The not knowing.

I remember when they found cancer in my own body

I looked for signs to tell me

How bad it would get

I took a run around the lake to clear my head, and as I ran

I heard a commotion overhead

An eagle had snatched a baby crow from its nest

The distraught parents in their rage

Flew at the great bird, screaming

But the eagle, unfazed, disappeared over treetops

Carrying the bloody chick to perhaps its own nest in the high snags.

I knew then that survival would be brutal.

This virus.

   Our world.

      Entire communities.

         Neighborhoods and families.

             People we love.

                 You.

                    Me.

                       This little black cat by my side.

                         The eagles, the crows, the finches.

                            Hyacinth and cherry blossoms.

Above all else, life wants to live.

I wrote this poem on the morning of March 2, 2020. Twenty minutes later, I received a call from the epicenter of coronavirus in the US. When I am not teaching dance, I am a communications consultant, primarily for cities. It just happened that my long-standing client was the US city impacted first and most by coronavirus. For weeks before this, I couldn’t shake a sense of impending doom. I had been feeling like something would happen, and that I might be needed in my own small way.

Now, two weeks later, life - especially in Washington State - is very different.

This is all to say, that, like many dancers, I juggle more than dance. And in times like these, I need to first tend to my family, and second, to the cities who need my help. Classes have been canceled, and I hope to stay in touch with everyone through this restrictive time, but I just don’t know what my capacity will be.

I already miss my students and dance friends more than I can say. I do feel that once we are on the other side of the pandemic, whenever that will be, that the world will need dancers. We will want to gather again, we will need to raise money for the restaurants and businesses who have supported us, and we can bring joy and beauty and celebrate life like nobody else.

In the meantime, I hope you will find time to dance on your own, and please hold onto your compassion. It’s hard to admit this, but that odd sense of impending doom is lingering. I feel we are at a pivotal moment in human history, and that it will be important to intentionally lean into love. For everyone. Thank you for everything you are doing to make this world a better place.

Keep shimmying, my friends.

Sending so much love to you all,

Amira