This summer I learned it takes one, not two, to tango

This summer and fall are a gift from me to me. Me saying yes to adventures. Yes to opportunities. Yes, simply yes — if it’s something I want to do, to try, why wouldn’t I? Not why but why not?

With that in mind, I set off on a solo date night to a symphony performance. Not just any performance but a symphony under the sky performance. It’s something I’ve longed to attend for years but, for various reasons, never did.

Solo date nights can be magical. While there’s something to be said for sharing an experience with another person, there’s also beauty in experiencing something beautiful alone. 

Part of any adventure is the journey. Getting to the venue wasn’t difficult — drive, park, take a shuttle to the site: a ski hill in the city. But getting onto that shuttle — an early shuttle so I could get a prime blanket spot on the ground — meant sitting beside someone on that bus and perhaps sharing a conversation. And I did. I sat beside a lovely woman and, while our talk was pleasant and general, it was also interesting. The talk of strangers comfortably connecting.

Upon arrival to the site, we said goodbye and went our own ways, wishing each other a pleasant evening. And then I picked my spot, about halfway up the hill, directly in front of the stage. The sun was still warm but beginning to lower on the horizon. It was the time of day when afternoon begins to melt into evening; when the sun begins to give way to the moon;  when the day is a balance of what was and what will be.

As I settled into my spot, I heard a vaguely familiar voice and found it belonged to the lovely woman from the shuttle bus. She asked if she could sit with me and warned she would be joined by grandchildren and a partner. Happy that she felt comfortable enough with me to ask, I agreed knowing I could still make this experience mine alone while connecting. 

There were introductions and small talk and then her family weaved themselves back into their family unit. That allowed me to lean back onto my blanket and prepare to listen to music I was sure would stir my soul.

The orchestra performed its warmup exercises and then, promptly at 7 p.m., deft fingers expertly began to coax notes from instruments. Notes floated. Flew. Some held on a little longer, a little deeper. They wove together and untangled to go their own ways.

Every bar, every beat, every note, every song … every inhale and every exhale. All of it filled me and made me feel alive. 

While the first half of the performance was wonderful, the second half featured the music I was looking forward to hearing. It was Latin-inspired; music designed to make you move. The first song played ... the second ... and then the opening notes of the most beautiful tango ever written: Por Una Cabeza. I leaned back on my blanket and shut my eyes. As every note sunk into my pores, sang into my bloodstream and buried into my bones. I gave thanks for my life; for what I’ve lost; for what I have now. For this was perfection. This song, this time, this life. Nothing else mattered right then. Nothing.

I heard no other sound — no voices, human or animal. I felt nothing externally, not the coolness of the evening, not the slight breeze on my skin. I only felt the life inside of me.

As the final notes of that tango melted away, I cried just a little and gave thanks for everything. And I looked skyward and said a soft hello to My Favourite Husband. 

Looking over at my newfound companions, I smiled as the kids asked their grandmother, "Why is that lady was crying?" and we exchanged smiles as she replied, “Because she’s happy."

The concert ended with more poignant and beautiful music but nothing stirred my soul like that tango. Nothing completed me like it did.

As the final notes of the evening ascended into the sky, I packed up my blanket, gathered my knapsack and said goodbye to the grandkids and partner of my new acquaintance. Both of us rode the shuttle back to the parking lot and talked about the evening, about travel plans, about our lives.

And when we arrived at the parking lot, we smiled at each other and wished each other a beautiful life. Because our time connecting together was much like that tango — meant for that moment only.

 I moved into the night and made my way home.

❤️