When I was a little girl there was what seemed to me to be a very old man he seldom drank. Ocassionally however he would get gloriously drunk and mum and I would kneel on the couch and watch him waltzing his way home.

It was always the same dance three steps forward waltz in a circle then a step back it may have looked strange and doubled the length of his journey but he always made it home safe.

Through ilness, trials and loss I have found I have found that sometimes the only way to get to the goal is by doing the drunk man waltz.

The other day I was sitting at my window so far from my childhood home and memories of our old neighbour began to dance through my mind. As I replayed his strange journey home I suddenly realised something I had missed as a child. For him the journey wasn't long he had a tune in his head and although his goal was to get home he did it his way and enjoyed the dance.

When life seem to be dragging me backwards I will remember him and instead of seaing each backwards step as a deafeat I will listen to the music in my head and keep dancing.