:: :: thumbelina dance :: ::

Today, for a few hours in the afternoon, I was in a good mood. An honest to goodness good mood. It’s literally the first good mood I’ve had in at least three months.

I was driving when I first noticed it floating there inside my skull like dandelion seeds scattered to the wind. Instead of bubbles boiling I had tiny fairies — little Thumbelinas — dancing in lovely little circles. I picked up the phone to call and tell Brian, and then I almost put it back down on the passenger seat. This good mood was fragile, so fragile, I feared that any vibration from the sound of my voice, particularly the sound of my voice saying words like “good” and “mood” in sequence, might break it. The last thing I needed was a brain with good mood shards scattered over it like broken glass.

But I called him, and he was happy for me, which made me happy for me, which in turn did not disturb my ballerinas but instead made their steps lighter, their turns more carefree.

I don’t think there was any brain-ballerina leaping going on. I mean, it was just a good mood, and not even a particularly spectacular one at that. But it was the first good mood, and so of course it felt like it was spectacular. And it gave me hope that perhaps someday my little Thumbelinas might leap and that maybe someday they might even leap so high they never land.