'I love playing poker on Family Night,' my eleven-year-old said. (This may mean you shouldn't take my advice, but I have a good story for you. I promise.)
When we play poker or Monopoly or Scrabble, I like to have fun. I sing, break out the drinks and table dance -- you know, where your shoulders dance but your butt stays in the chair? Please say you do it, too.
The boys, including my husband, find me highly irritating. But I rock on.
During our last poker night, I found ABBA Solid Gold on Spotify and sang all fourteen verses of 'Chiquitita.'
I was loud and slightly off-key.
The boys' eyes rolled so far back in their sockets they could have been extras in a horror movie. My teenage son, a musician, looked like he was in physical pain.
But I LOVE singing that song. Remember?
“Chiquitita, tell me what’s wrong
You’re enchained by your own sor-row
In your eyes, there is no hope for tomorrow”
Oh, ABBA. It's so true. People everywhere are enchained by sorrow. Too tired to dream. No energy to start something new. Scared to try again.
Life hands us trouble and it's easy to sling on the chains.
We hide in plain view, keep ourselves small and stop dancing. We forget we have a choice.
We're enchained by our own sorrow.
Hey!!
Time to sing a new song, Chiquitita. ;-)