Of youth

I was like most youngster in high school.  I listened to all the latests music.  Watched the matching videos on MTV (back when they played videos).  I also was a pretty good dancer.  Most importantly, I was “cool.”  I came to college and carried on in the same “cool” fashion.  I remember once being asked by an admirer, “where’d you learn to dance like that?”  I just shrugged as I broke into a another fit of rythm.  I took it as a compliment.

But, something happened when I had kids…I stopped dancing.  My inner Material Girl, gave way to Barney, Kidz Bop and Blacklodge Kids’ Pow Wow Jams.  I had stopped feeding the “me” that knew what cool was.  There was point at which I remember thinking “who are you and what did you do to that dance diva named Lori?!”  Yeah, it was bad.

My kids were in middle school when a friend invited me to go dancing with her at a local latin club.  That night, I danced and danced….so good!  It felt wonderful to find “me” again.  I didn’t stop.   I was there twirling and swaying on the dance floor as often as I could…and I looked and felt amazing!

There were times after that re-awakening that I used to try to teach my girls to dance.  Or, I’d tell them about how I used to dance like a maniac in high school.  They’d just giggle.  They didn’t believe me.   I don’t blame them…they hadn’t ever seen me “do” such things.   And they could hardly even imagine it either.

I saw a post card once that had a quote by William Purkey, ““You’ve gotta dance like there’s nobody watching, Love like you’ll never be hurt, Sing like there’s nobody listening, And live like it’s heaven on earth.”   There is only one part missing….make sure your kids see you doing it all….as proof!  haha

I wrote this poem back then about conflicting perceptions:  theirs and mine.  Today, they still giggle when I try to” bust a move”….if they only knew!


I guess I always thought I’d be cool
down with the latest dances
up with fashion
know the music scene
speak the speak
Apparently, I’ve been slipping a bit…
I step on toes
my wardrobe suffers from time warp
isn’t “Bow Wow” what a dog does?
…and COOL just isn’t cool for me to say anymore!

According to two young hip chicks on the verge of life…
I’m old…I’m outdated…I’m over!

But, little do they know…
when the night matures
I unbutton to please
and slip on my shiny, slick black heels
that move with ease
to the hot latin beat
that melts the years from
my mind…my body…my soul.


For the history buffs….

So, by history I mean Lori’s history.  I live in Lawrence, KS right now.  I’ve been here for more than half of my life (gulp).  I am often torn between home (New Mexico) and home (Kansas).  I have an especially hard time leaving “home” to go “home.”  You still with me?  I still have friends that ask me all the time, WHY (in a derogetory way)???  I also have other friends that still ask, HOW (in an inquisitive, not derogetory way lol)???

So, I guess the question is, “how did this Navajo, high-desert deweller end up at sea-level in middle of America where grass grows in the cracks in the street?”

When I was asked a while ago to write something that could express what my journey to Kansas has been like, it came out a little like this:


At 17, I imagined myself on top of an open mesa
The world at the tip of my toes
The wind begging to help me take flight
Promising to hold me high and carry me far…

Far          far            far away…I went…

I came to rest in the lush green rolling hills of the Midwest
A place that yearned to be called my “home”
A place that swathed me in warm wet air
A place anxious to help mold me into something magnificent
A place that held me captive by the roots that took quickly to the fertile soil

A new home…far from the ancestors that raced the prairies to visit me each morning

A new life…a fresh beginning…so, so long ago

Today, I stand at the peak of my mountain
Facing into my future
Hands on hips
Feet firmly planted
Not swaying one bit

From time to time, I turn and peer down through squinted eyes
I see my path…the journey so far…
It’s twisted, crooked
Backtracking and looping
And so narrow…and thin that sometimes it disappears
…and I smile.

Sometimes I chuckle remembering where I’ve been
Yet, always thankful
for the people I’ve met
for the experiences that have shaped me.
But…always most thankful to my ancestors who traveled so far from home
To journey with me, side-by-side
Making sure I wouldn’t forget…
My history, my creation, my destiny.

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