“Dances with Wolves – Dancing in My Head”
When I listen to John Barry’s theme from Dances with Wolves, something stirs deep inside me; it's what the Swedes call längtan or a “longing,” but that translation feels too shallow. The word means a profound yearning for something distant, lost, or not yet known. It is not quite sorrow, not quite hope, but a tender ache that points beyond itself.
The music carries me into wide, open spaces, endless sky, wind over grass, a horizon without end. Then, suddenly, I reach a wall, an invisible edge beyond which I cannot go. The music continues, but I stop, left with that ache suspended between presence and absence. Am I sharing a piece of Barry’s mind as he composed the piece? Who knows.
I have known this feeling since boyhood when I see endless stars, a sundown or extracts from the classics and even in Runrig, Na h-Oganaich , Pink Floyd and Horslips music.
Perhaps längtan is the soul’s memory of wholeness, its reaching for the eternity God has placed in our hearts (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
I no longer see this longing as a wound but as a gift. It keeps me searching beyond the visible and reminds me that I am meant for something more. Even the ache itself is beautiful, because it whispers of a love, a home, and a life still waiting beyond the horizon.
Image by Copilot
