Why Dance Alone

Most often, we search out experiences because of the way they make us feel. The better the experience, the more we gravitate towards it. When we can't have what we want, a certain shift occurs, a hopelessness. Yet we must never buckle under the supposed gravity of the loss.  It's unfortunate that this life has given us too much, so much so that things (and people) can become disposable. Sometimes we let things get wasted instead of celebrated. 

I know as a writer, I mustn't ever give up. Writing is a tough enough road. I really only think about giving up when I'm sad. Because sadness is directly linked to defeat. But WHY would I give up? What would I do if defeated - move home and be an absolute terror to my family, emblazoned with the knowledge dreams have been relinquished? What are my dreams - to make a difference. What does making a difference mean to me? Changing people's lives for the better. Making things matter. Shining light where there was once ignorance, darkness and pain. I vow to fill the world with more joy and less suffering. A tall order, I know.

This last week has been very challenging for me. I was forced to look at my life, in lieu of my "planning". I was told by a good friend early on - an Italian from Italy, no less - when it comes to love not to have expectations. But when you meet someone who captures your attention, someone you've granted their presence as having real value - you want to hear what they have to say and you want what they're saying to be true. We all do. It's our lives, our futures.

That shifted, and I felt at times during this week a deep sadness at what could be but may never be. When the pain finally abated, I realized again that my future matters. I was able to breathe and think. And what I surmised is this: Nothing is ever over. And forces that bring people together will bring them together again. The only thing I count on is the day. Because my heart races with possibility. I am at the helm. Ready to love, feel, and hopefully not ever cringe. I know what it's like to be doubled over in pain due to loss. Losing something meaningful sucks.

Happily, I have in my tool kit a tool that I either picked up along the way and polished over the years, or it was gifted me through good parenting, The wherewithal to stand up and strengthen my spine (See Steel Your Spine http://madglory.blogspot.com/2010/07/steel-your-spine.html). To always tackle the next challenge, whether that's with my relationships with friends, family or a potential partner. *Family constitute more forgiving creatures, such is the nature of unconditional love*. I have remained true to myself for so many years. The instinct I have cultivated has served me well. I continue to listen to it as it continues to activate when needed most. I am unafraid to stand up for myself, knowing self worth is always more than half the battle. Too many bad choices are made because of self-doubt. Downward spirals usually follow.

This life doesn't stop being tough, but it doesn't have to be crippling. Figure out the things you love and do them. Have the discipline to follow through. Find the people you love and move towards them as much as possible. They teach you and make you laugh. They open your eyes to new ways of looking at things, including yourself. You love them for a reason. And everything else about this skewed world can be managed when you are at one with yourself. When you can stop, and feel the sunshine on your face. That moment is all yours. Take it.

I went for a hike today up a mountain. Now, I know it's more of a hill - I lived in Colorado as a child and climbed a volcano that was 1,700 meters in Bali at 3 am as an adult, and I know a mountain when I see one - but this hill will surrender its limitations to location and allow me to relay this thought. It's not the climbing of the mountain that matters. Not even that you made it to the top and back. It's the tenacity to do so. It's that will that gets you off the couch, when you'd rather stay at home in your sweat pants, distracting yourself with some random pastime. I have plenty of shameful, self-imposed distractions (Damn you, Candy Crush Saga! I resign! A game that has you believing it's remotely based on skill. I call bullshit on that. I started to feel like the old folks belly up to the slot machines in Old Vegas, murdering time.) What matters is what's next. It's your show. You're in charge. And I say take it. Take charge over the things that distract and distress you, and let go of crap. There is still so much to explore, so much unraveling. Travel light.

I think of my Papa, who said if he had been born a woman, he would have wanted a life like mine. His words honor me. It's time to make my Papa proud. Shedding any sadness and doubt, never giving up faith in finding a dance partner, and fulfilling my word to myself to live a a life well lived. It's out there, and I am finding it. Piece by piece, trusting every step. As long as you like the company you keep, you're doing fine. 

The Irony of Content

  

This last year was the most brutal year of my life. They say life doesn't get easier, you just gain maturity through life's lessons and become more well equipped to deal with the curve balls. I'm going to agree with that theory, and raise it a holy-hell-what-the-fuck-was-that. I'm the oldest I've ever been, and have struggled most of my life. Yet nothing can explain away the pain of discovering that your choices have led you so far astray from your true path, the path you were meant to tread. The ultimate relief is finding myself on the periphery of this exhaustive dark fog that had permeated my thoughts, skewed my judgment, stifled my talents and ultimately compromised my goals. The worst part is it made me trust myself less. 

Finally, I am feeling like myself again. It is indeed good news to feel that dreadful fog lifting, and to be reminded - once again - that everything will be alright. I had (shamefully) allowed others to hurt me deeply, even though it is a lesson my mother taught me years ago - if someone tries to take your joy away from you, you stick it in their ass. Those people have been successfully removed from my life completely and I certainly wish them well, regardless of the pain they cause. Earning money these last few years has been challenging, and now I'm finally figuring out some ways to earn that will not only satisfy my basic needs, but also allow for my bigger projects to take shape. Because, as I see it, if I'm not willing or able to invest in myself, how can I expect others to do so? My family and friends are happy and healthy. And my heart feels safe. For the first time in a very long while - as long as I can remember, in fact - I feel content. It's a strange feeling for an artist, because very often it's the strife and struggle that compels us to crawl through broken glass on bare knee to write and sing and mold something into being, to represent - however trivial - the way this life can make us feel, in hopes to make sense of the chaos that constantly surrounds us. As if to help heal the hurt, we howl loudly at times just to ensure someone around us will hear it and make it better. I know that need for recognition well. I've been so lost, desperate for consolation and validation. Those were not my proudest moments, but the fear of being insignificant was real. My struggles were worn like a badge, thinking without them, I couldn't create.

And just like that (snaps fingers) it's gone. I no longer feel the need to prove anything anymore, to anyone - especially to myself. I already know I can do it, whatever it is. I've been through the worst of it, and I've come out the other side more myself than ever before. What remains is a white-hot desire to follow through on the seeds I've planted, with room in my garden for more.  I feel more creative and capable in the calm in my heart, then I ever did in the senseless confusion. The next step is the ultimate joy of watching those seeds GROW.