As for handing over control, this was and is still hard for me. I am so very tempted to tell the Knight how to do things, believing that my way is best. And so does he. We will always bang heads on certain issues, most of them actually too small to make a fuss about. Yet it seems easier for him to just look away and let me do my thing. I have to learn to do the same. I have to learn that sometimes dancing is just about feeling the music.
This is were the Knight shines. He may never be the one to talk reason into me, in times of hardship he will never be my rock or my problemsolver, but he damn well can lift my spirits like no other. And mostly it only requires music. Music filling my head, conquering my thoughts, letting me forget what I had been angry about, that I had been angry at all.
I love our private family rock concerts, with a lot of shouting, headbanging and pogoing around the living room. Or our interpretations of famous musical songs, complete with overly dramatic gestures. Or the Disney sing-alongs he prepares for Elsa and me.
Music grabs me and carries me away. I have to be careful with it. When working in the lab, I want absolute silence. Labwork is about precision, about focus, about keeping a cool head. Nevertheless, I am the only one in my department to wear a mask.
I tell myself and everyone else I wear it because my previous job in a production lab made me extra cautious. But truth is, that when the centrifuge is running, the media are warming up and all vials are prepared I sing. Loud and with passion. I stand in the middle of those cold sterile white walls and benches and sing my heart out, to noone but myself.