Last night, after Body Choir, in the lobby, Laura Rose took my face in her hands and with eyes squinty and glossy from the tears welling up in them, said to me, "I love you so much. You are such a wonderful, unique and special person. There is no one else in the world quite like you and I am so glad you are in my life." I was dumbstruck, thought I would start crying. I hugged her again.Shortly before that, in Closing Circle, I found myself near the outside of a tight circle in the middle of the room -- but still with hands and heads and bodies touching mine -- where we had all encircled Kimba who had a sudden and unexpected internal infection that nearly killed her (and she's only been out of the hospital for a week or two), everybody humming and chanting her name to help release "all the negative energy" she said she felt was stuck in her body. After the circle opened up and people began to disperse, a couple pairs of fists pressed into my shoulders then walked down my back, then legs were wrapping around my legs, a crotch in my hips, the front of a body against the back of my body, arms wrapped around me, and stringy blond hair landed on my shoulder, touched my neck, my cheek. It was Micah. He kissed the back of my head, said, "I love you, Jay Byrd."
At the beginning of the dance, just after Opening Circle, when the music was starting up still and gentle, my eyes closed, I stretched my legs out in front of me, curled my hands up into the sky to a ballad by Coldplay. My hand touched another hand. We stayed connected; we curled around, rolled on top of each other on the floor, giggling some. It was Wendy. Before Opening Circle, during the Warm-up, we had danced with each other briefly to an upbeat song. In the short break between Warm-up and Opening Circle she said to me, "You look great. You look light. Lighter! Have you been lightening your load?" I said, "Yes!" but I wasn't sure, had to think about it a minute. Yes, I decided, I have been lightening my load, for a couple of years.
On my way out of the house to go to Body Choir, I noticed someone had called while I was in the shower. I listened to the message. It was Peg. She was calling to tell me she'd been thinking about me, that she wanted to check in and see how Steven's nephew was doing. He's been in the hospital with e. coli. I had brought up his name a couple of dances ago. He's only seven. She knew I was concerned about him.
These hippies, I think to myself, laugh to myself, they love me. "Everybody loves you, Jay Byrd," people have told me more than once. Micah's girlfriend, Brianne told me recently that I'm one of her Touchstones, that she always gets a thrill when she sees me at Body Choir, that she always notices when I'm not there, that her dance is better when I am.
I struggle sometimes with my emotions, struggle with my feelings about myself, my feelings about these people, their feelings about me. It's a wonderful thing and sometimes it's an overwhelming thing, scary. I'm not used to being loved so openly, am not always so comfortable with letting the love I feel for these people show. I'm afraid that the women will think I'm coming on to them. I'm afraid that people will think I'm coming on to the men, the younger men. I'm afraid of love. But it's so natural with these people. So free. And it frees me sometimes. Sometimes it comes to me at exactly the right moment, at the moment when I think the least of myself, when I am the most full of doubt about my intentions. "I love you." How nice that sounds, how lovely that feels.
