When was the last time you let yourself tumble headfirst into love?

This summer, I found myself aboard the Queen Ann. After dinner, I sought out the ship’s evening entertainment—a great ensemble playing old standards and new show tunes. I was a little out of my comfort zone on this ship—it is not my usual travel style—but I believe there is an adventure to be had in every experience, so I happily donned my gown and followed my friend Ann to the seats at the side of the dance floor. 

That’s when a dashing 87-year-old gentleman asked me to dance. Now, I’ll admit I was a little intimidated. Ballroom dancing? Not exactly in my wheelhouse! What if I look foolish? 

I was uncharacteristically shy, and to gain a little courage, I invited him to join our table for a drink. Over cocktails, he shared his passion for cruising. He and his high school sweetheart and lifelong dance partner used to be regulars. They danced professionally until they won everything they desired and then kept sailing to enjoy the grand ballrooms on all the great ships. She’d passed away last winter. He was honouring their romance by continuing to dance. This was his first cruise back. 

Cue the tears. 

How could I not get up after that? My self-consciousness had been holding me back, and now the self-talk just seemed silly. I stepped onto the dance floor with an “if not now, then when?” attitude and simply committed to honouring Paul’s lost love. I got up there ready to make a fool of myself, knowing it would make a difference to no one, but my presence might make a difference to this gentleman.

I stepped onto the floor and did a wiggle and a spin or two when it hit me—epiphany — dancing is not about nailing the dance moves. It’s about falling in love with the rhythm, the joy of moving and the exquisite vulnerability of being human. 

Over the two weeks that followed, we exchanged stories over morning coffee. I was delighted to learn about his life, his adventures and his wife. I felt like I was in my own private BBC series - a bit of history, a bit of drama. I could see him coming back to life. 

Best dance of my life! I still smile thinking about it. The song? It’s playing on repeat right now. And like the lyrics say, "I knew it when I met him (ayy), I loved him when I left him”. I play it now anytime I need to remind myself to get back into the game. 

From the bottom of my heart, thank you, Peter Cutler, for reminding me that living life means getting up on the dancefloor. 

So, what are you waiting for? 

Get up and dance and fall in love with life again.

Here's a peek of us on the dancefloor...what do you think?