Dances of Delight

I almost always have one song or another running through my head. Often it’s something silly and annoying, like Roger Miller’s “England Swings Like a Pendulum Do” or “Waltzing with Bears,” which was apparently written by Dr. Seuss. He should’ve known better.

But for the last few days, as spring has sprung in the North Country of upstate New York, the song in my head has been “When I’m Gone,” by folksinger Phil Ochs. Not a silly or annoying song at all, but one that sets forth a philosophy I wish I could live up to. (You can hear the song by going to the link. I admit I almost never click on links in blogs but I think you’ll really like the song!)

In the song, Ochs lists the things he won’t be able to do anymore “when I’m gone” and concludes, “So, I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.” He itemizes the things we take for granted and put off and say we want to do, but shy away from, and reminds us that our time here is not limitless.

I’ve always loved and been moved by this song but it’s in my head right now because the last few days have seemed so perfect to me. These days have made me think constantly of a phrase Ochs uses in the song–“dances of delight.”

I’ve been in the sunshine, raking last fall’s leftover leaves, and finding tender-green new growth beneath. I can recognize that these will be peonies and those will be heuchera, when they’ve had a few weeks to grow.

I’ve been on my knees weeding, feeling muscles glow and tell me that no, I did not stay fit over the winter, but I can be soon.

On my whim, I’ve moved from yard work to old linens, and spent time reclaiming them from years of neglect in storage, returning them to beauty, and finding new homes for them.

When the spirit moves, I’ve wandered to my weaving, to wind warp for a gift and to help my husband figure out a new-to-us loom where he’ll make something beautiful out of ordinary string.

I‘ve stopped by here and visited with you. I’ve shared a meal with dear friends. I’ve watched my cats nap in the sunshine and dive headfirst into piles of leaves, older cats made young again by springtime. I’ve heard geese honk on a lake of lapping water (not ice!), watched the weeping willows turn green-gold as they bud, and smelled the sun on pine needles.

These days are much of a muchness. Nothing wild or crazy or exotic or thrilling.

But, these are my dances of delight. Full of anticipation and promise, hard work, productive and varied, but unpressured and mellow.

I’m very aware that this won’t last forever. Things change. Complications arise. Nothing gold can stay. But, right now, it all seems so delightful.

I won’t be able to dance these delights when I’m gone, so I guess I better do it while I’m here. What delights are you dancing?

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Phil Ochs, When I’m Gone, 1966 lyrics

There’s no place in this world where I’ll belong when I’m gone
And I won’t know the right from the wrong when I’m gone
And you won’t find me singin’ on this song when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t feel the flowing of the time when I’m gone
All the pleasures of love will not be mine when I’m gone
My pen won’t pour out a lyric line when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t breathe the bracing air when I’m gone
And I can’t even worry ’bout my cares when I’m gone
Won’t be asked to do my share when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t be running from the rain when I’m gone
And I can’t even suffer from the pain when I’m gone
Can’t say who’s to praise and who’s to blame when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

Won’t see the golden of the sun when I’m gone
And the evenings and the mornings will be one when I’m gone
Can’t be singing louder than the guns when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

All my days won’t be dances of delight when I’m gone
And the sands will be shifting from my sight when I’m gone
Can’t add my name into the fight while I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here

And I won’t be laughing at the lies when I’m gone
And I can’t question how or when or why when I’m gone
Can’t live proud enough to die when I’m gone
So I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.