The Thief of The Dance

You ever had something precious stolen from you with no obvious forewarning? 

Today I've been thinking about a little dance and the big scary silent thief that ran off with mine. 

May I tell you a story? 

There's a dance that fingers sometimes do. 

I'm not aware of any set names for this dance, so I'll call it Flow. It's been researched, written about, romanticized and parabled for years now. 

My experience with this dance has been the occasional effortless elegant glide across a small checkerboard-style ballroom floor, which most call a computer keyboard. After about 40 years of work and practice, exercise and conditioning, I've enjoyed the intermittent pleasure of writing in flow. Those mystical moments when a thought or concept fires in my brain and without any apparent intervention from me, full sentences begin to appear on the screen as if flicked there by that tiny synaptic spark. 

Thankfully, my experience with this scary silent thief has been limited to this week. 

And I learned his name last Friday. 

Not Rocko, not Guido, not Paddy the pickpocket, nope. A deceptively simple, single-syllable name. A name known to strike fear into the hearts of many: Stroke. 

So how did this odd-named cat and I get acquainted? 

Last Friday afternoon, Jan 2nd, a day seemingly like any other, I was wrapping up my work for the week. I'd awakened that morning with a mild headache. So as I finished up, I decided to lie on the floor of my office, stretch my back a bit and hopefully lose the headache. 

Next thing I know, a shadowy figure bounces my head off my wooden desk, and I find myself sitting on my butt on the floor. 

My office and the hallway outside were filling up with Volunteer Firefighters, all of whom are also EMTs. All of whom I know personally. We live in a tiny rural town, Dannebrog, Nebraska, pop. 352, when we're all home. 

Turns out, this violent knucklehead smacking me around has a couple buddies who've been lurking around—in my house, my office and in my head. See, after twenty odd years of chiding from credentialed and credible medical practitioners about my blood pressure, belly fat and low poor exercise, the piper showed up to collect his due. And he brought a couple uninvited pals. 

For years, I suppose, Mr. Piper has had his goons skulking about, watching to see if I've taken the warnings seriously or acted accordingly. Finally satisfied the timing was right to strike (see what I did there?), they called in their mean-ass boss. 

A couple minutes later, our boys and girls, who willingly (and for no pay) run into burning buildings, trundled me down our front stairs to their waiting chariot, festooned with beautiful disco lights, and we took that very expensive 20-mile ride to the resort where I've taken up residence for the past week. 

So today I've been thinking of the many things for which I am thankful... 

• A God who knew what a wimp I’d be 
• Who gave me a lovely best friend, with whom to share the planet, a house and a life 
• Who gave us wonderful easy-to -raise children who are now also our best friends 
• Two “bonus kids”, Tanya and Carl, for our birth kids toe njoy enjoy life with 
• And two of the most brilliant, beautiful, caring grandkiddos anyone could hope for 
• An Apple watch that watches over me and calls 911, Lori and the kids when sh!t starts to get real 
• Who goves me intelligent open-minded people, with whom to visit and share ideas  

Lastly, I am motivated to implore you to do just one thing in 2026! 

When you have the thought:” I’m goinn o start eating better’, “Maybe I should go get athat checked”, “I think I’ll make THIS the year!” 

DO IT NOW! Start now!  

Do not wait for Mr. Piper and his wrecking crew to show up! 

Get up off that chair,  

drink some water,  

go for a walk, and touch grass,  

hug someone who doesnT expct it.  

Wait for them to let go first. 

The expense reports will wait.  

That stack of resumes will wait. 

Mr. Piper will wait too... But not forever!