Our 6 year old’s quirky song of choice made me reflect on how we should live life like a disco ball.
Enjoying music together with T is one thing I cherish in our relationship. For a long time, all he listened to was Queen’s “We Will Rock You.”
I went on a recent binge of Australian pop star Kylie Minogue’s discography, because her joyful music lifts my mood every time.
T zeroed in on “Your Disco Needs You,” a campy single from her 2000 pop masterpiece album “Light Years,” and now asks for it on repeat.
Popular in the 70s, disco is a genre of dance music described as “typified by four-on-the-floor beats, syncopated basslines, string sections, horns, electric piano, synthesizers…”
Basically, it’s upbeat and cheerful.
As we listened to T’s song in the car on loop, I thought about the disco ball and how it radiates light in all directions.
According to this article, the first patent for the disco ball was issued in 1917 by Louis Bernard Woeste who called it the “Myriad Reflector.”
The word “myriad” means countless or extremely great in number.
“How interesting,” I thought, as I watched T, from the rear view mirror, bopping in his car seat.
“So lets dance through all our fears
War is over for a bit
The whole world should be moving
Do your part
Cure a lonely heart.”– Your Disco Needs You
Then my mind went on a super random tangent, thinking about each of our lives as a glass ball.
At birth, our ball is smooth. The myriad of life experiences we have, good and bad, adds facets towards of our ball, making it resemble a disco ball with each passing day.
I often think about how I’d like to hang onto T’s innocence and wonder as long as I can, because that is the purest form of light.
As individuals, we can choose to bounce the light we receive out into the world or we can trap it within ourselves during the harder moments, much like how a ray of light gets lost in darkness.
Similarly, we can absorb the darkness that comes towards us or let it bounce off. Easier said than done, of course.
T teaches me every day, sometimes through hard moments, to bounce light to others.
He is our disco ball, situated in the middle of the dance floor that is our lives, radiating light (even when he’s driving us insane!).
One common thing said about children with FASD is that every day is a new day for them. It’s a blank slate.
I learn a lot from T about letting things go.
Outdoor pools opened last weekend and they were a life saver last summer. We’ve already gone three of the four days they’ve been open!
Prior to last night’s visit, I was in a frazzled mood, after a day of back-to-back meetings and virtual schooling, with not much of a break.
My head was spinning from all the to-dos for the next day and I could feel myself getting antsy.
But then I thought about my silly disco ball. Do I hold this in, let it fester and mar a fun night out with T – or do I let it bounce off and enjoy the moment ahead of us?
I chose to boogie woogie.
It was a cooler evening, so there was only a handful of people at the pool; we practically had the shallow end to ourselves.
The sky was sunny with sporadic dark clouds. So beams of sunlight came and went.
During one moment near the end of our swim, T was chasing me as we played tag in the pool. Slivers of light pierced through the dark cloud and down onto T, illuminating our disco ball.
I watched him as he smiled, laughed and splashed in the water, enjoying and basking thankfully for this little moment of pure perfection.