Enough

A LOT has changed since I've written.  Well, it has also been A LONG time.  Life happens, and I avoid writing my thoughts I suppose because either I don't have time or maybe I'm afraid to write (and consequently, read) my feelings and opinions on a situation or thought.  Over time though, I've slowly realized that I suffer when I don't write.  Writing is simply another way of expressing what is in my heart. 
That being said, I've rediscovered the value in movement.  I took a bit of a hiatus from the studio as a student.  After suffereing from a somewhat chronic injury, dancing became sort of a source of fear for me.  I feared not being able to do what I used to.  I feared my body's reaction to forceful exercise.  I feared others' reactions to my dancing.  Most of all, I feared my own reactions... the judgment I'd put on myself and whether I'd reach my own expectations. 
Foolish.  If I've learned anything about myself, it should be that I often create unrealistic expectations of myself and when I don't reach them, I say to myself "Fail."  This pattern that I created formed a somewhat dead zone.  I decided to not even bother stepping into a studio until I learned to accept myself as an imperfect dancer.  Maybe this in itself is an unrealistic expectation. 
Wrong.  I reached a point in which I couldn't handle not being able to express myself.  So I took a class.  I had no expectations... from myself, or from the class.  I still feared the reaction and the pain.  Surprisingly, my reaction was neutral and my pain was.... well not there.  What a beautiful feeling that was.  I walked out of the studio feeling like my old self again.  After a couple of weeks, I found myself involved in a small filming project.  I became a part of a creation process which, as a dancer, is my ultimate joy.  The choreographer spoke of an idea she had.  She was interested in possibly interviewing each dancer, asking us what it was that brought us back to dance.  What sparked that desire to step into the studio?  Basically, why is dance a part of our lives?
What a fun question to ponder, especially at this point in my life.  I could not feel more honored to have the opportunity to consider what dance is to me in this current moment.  I do feel that my relationship with the artform is continually changing and evolving.  So, here is my conclusion...

A few years ago, I was hit with a sort of writer's block if you will.  A dead zone.  I no longer understood why I had chosen dance as a profession.  I simply woke up each day, went to work, performed what was asked of me, went home and slid into bed, only to wake and repeat... repeat... repeat.  There were moments of inspiration that I would come across, but they never lasted long enough to keep my engine running. 
One night, my best friend forced me to come over because he had something he wanted to share with me.  I had no idea that that evening would change everything.  It sounds trite, but I promise you that my outlook on the artform will never be the same.  I had seen Nederlands Dans Theatre perform before, but I was too young and couldn't understand the gifts that the choreographers and dancers of the company bestowed upon the dance world.  I was in a world of tutus, pink tights, and black and white belted leotards.  Although  my body remained in that world of dance, my heart was somewhere else... but I didn't know where.  I seemed to be trying to reach out to something that I knew existed, but couldn't put my finger on it. 
Jiri Kylian answered those questions.  The dancers resembled creatures, not humans.  The movement, the music, the set, everything made me feel as though I was underwater.  I remember as a child loving the way my hair seemed to float slowly as I swam underwater.  And the force I had to use to move underwater created this wave of energy throughout my body.  It was as if everything was happening in slow motion.  Everything seemed more beautiful below the surface.  Suddenly, every movement had a purpose.  As I got older as a dancer, I began to experiment with this notion in the studio.  Each class became an exercise to see how I could change the way I moved by imagining that I was underwater.  I entered into a completely different zone.  I was obsessed with this idea of moving with purpose and not just because it was part of the choreography.  I also realized that one of the things I loved about watching a beautiful piece of choreography was when I was completely captivated and had no idea where it would go next. 
This is exactly the feeling I had watching Bella Figura.  Each segment subtly took me to a new place I didn't know existed.  For me it became an exploration of not only movement, but of the mind.  Frankly, I struggle to describe the experience in words.  I suppose that is the beauty of it, actually.  It's as if it is truly only meant to be expressed with dance.  Writing about it somehow takes away from it's beauty.  However, there is one word that comes to mind when I think about it... disarming. 
By the end of Bella tears were streaming down my face.  I had rediscovered the reason why I chose dance over any other form of expression.  Somehow the movement seemed to perfectly describe both what I already knew, and what I had been missing.  I felt like I had finally arrived home.  This is a language I could and wanted so badly to speak.  In that moment, I knew I was not finished speaking through my limbs.  So began my quest.
This quest brought me to my adventures in Canada.  There, I was immensely humbled, I was forced out of my comfort zone, I met people that pushed and guided me.  As an artist, I learned and I grew.  The quest continued... although it seemed to have ended there for a bit when I had my injury and moved back to the States.  My original hopes and dreams for Canada had somewhat of an agenda.  By moving up there and working where I did, I had hopes (maybe more like expectations) involving two things... traveling to Europe, and learning the movement of Kylian.  He was the reason I stayed in the studio after all.  I wanted so badly to see and experience the brilliance... like so many dancers out there. 
Good news is, I made it to Europe!  On the other note, I ALMOST made it to my Kylian dream.  The season after I left Montreal, the company performed the North American premeire of Kylian's Kaguyahime.  During the fall and winter of 2012, I will say that I struggled a bit with envy.  I came so close to a goal that I had set for myself!  It took me sometime to finally let go of this. 
Last month, I read an article in the Shambhala Sun by Michael Sowder (full article).  He was writing about being a teacher of poetry and one of his noted conclusions really stuck out to me.  "The practice of being a poet, an artist, or a Buddhist is this practice of waking up to what's around us, to the miracle of what's happening.  Such moments of perception can lead to powerful writing, original, and alive.... When we practice mindfulness, the things of the world are no longer inert objects but presences in whose life we participate."  Wow.  This is quite profound when thinking about my choice of art expression.  It essentially explains in a sense why I fell in love with dancing... this explanation I will leave for another day. 
I will say though that this idea helped me realize that while some may say that there are no coincidences, I also believe that along with that, everything has its place.  Every "presence in whose life we participate" gives us just enough.  We may have expectations for what or how that presence will provide for us, but those false expectations may not be met.  Instead of approaching that with hostility, it behooves us to accept the changes that don't allow those agendas of ours to come to pass.
In my case, I've realized that Kylian and Bella have their place in my life.  While I may be given the opportunity one day to perform his work, I also may not.  And that's OK.  Bella gave me the gift of rediscovering my passion, and provided the fuel to my fire in continuing this artistic quest.  Kylian's work will forever continue to inspire and push me as an dancer.  That is a much more valuable gift than performing the work itself.  That is enough.

Spring?!!

Well, spring has finally arrived in Montreal! Well actually, it's almost June so I suppose we're nearing summer. I've been told that spring lasts all of about 1 week sometimes here! Needless to say, I have never loved the color green so much in my life! The trees outside my window have blossomed within the last week and the color of the leaves is a poignant bright green. I've never seen anything like it before...well maybe I have and I just didn't appreciate as much as I do now. We've had a very rainy last couple of weeks, and I'm sure that it's not over. But to wake up and have days like today when there's a slight breeze blowing the curtains in my window, it's like a gift from above. There's comfort in the shy sunshine and cool breeze that makes me just want to sit on my bed and do nothing but bask in it. Moments like these I wish would never end! But I suppose I wouldn't value them as much if they lasted forever.

I can't believe that my first season with Les Grands is coming to a close. We finished our last shows this past weekend, and we will rehearse this week for our upcoming tour in July. As of Friday, we officially will be on vacation for a month! Everyone will run off to their respective homes or vacation spots. It has been a somewhat quiet season for me, but once again with numerous trials, tribulations, and of course new beginnings. It's very bizarre for me to think that just a year ago, I was beginning my move up here. Packing up my place, organizing the movers, planning my travels, saying goodbye to close friends in Miami.

A year later, here I am still settling into my neighborhood and developing wonderful friendships. At the end of this season, I consider myself very very fortunate to have met the people I have here. What a blessing it's been. Humans need one another and when you start fresh somewhere, it's easy to forget that. In some moments, I found myself plowing through life on my own without the support of others. That gets old very fast. How many times have I done this? Countless! And yet, you'd think by now I'd know better. Somehow, I think we've all been there and will continue to go there. Lose perspective. It's ok though, I think. I believe that it's a part of our human nature. At some point, we eventually realize that we're all built the same and that realization brings an overwhelming comfort in a sense of unity. It takes one person to take the stone wall down and be vulnerable for another to appreciate the value in doing the same. This is something that I am so grateful I have experienced with some here. After living in a city for eight years, developing lifelong friendships, and having to part with them, I feel confident now that I can do the same here.

That being said, one of my lifelong friends has managed to find a way back into my everyday life! Stephen was offered a job in my company and is beginning this week. I knew that when I left Miami our saga was far from over. Although I didn't know how we'd end up together again, I knew that at some point our paths would cross. I didn't expect it to be one year later! But how awesome! Now, I have two worlds colliding...a bit. It will be interesting to have an old friend blend with the new. It's sort of like when you go to a wedding and the happy couple's family and friends from all walks of life unite for one day. Except I didn't have to wait for such an occasion to have this happen! Well I know it's just one friend, but Stephen's seen so many different sides of me, I feel like he's been through many chapters of my life with me! As he begins this new chapter in his life, I'm happy that I can be here to support him through it. And I'll have the comfort of an old friend right here too.

I'll end on this note...
" 'Each man is a part of the Creator, or Cosmic Man; he has a heavenly body as well as one on earth. The human eye sees the physical form, but the inner eye penetrates more profoundly, even to the universal pattern of which each man is an integral and individual part.' "
-Sri Yukteswar from Autobiography of a Yogi

Where's the rain?

Today it's the most beautiful day here in Montreal. It's sunny and warm! Somehow though, there's one dark cloud that seems to remain. It's been here for awhile now, and won't go away. Will it rain already so that beautiful, clean and crisp air can arrive? Or maybe it IS raining and the true sun at the end of that tunnel is closer than I think. There are moments when a beautiful rainbow appears, but they don't last very long. Is that what I'm supposed to cling to? Have I lost all perception?

Open Heart = Pandora's Box(?)

I can't believe it. Since posting my last blog, I've accomplished something. I somehow was able to consistently "let go" on stage. There were a series of circumstances that brought me to this point so I suppose I'll explain. First of all, we had been rehearsing...well and performing our latest program for the last couple of months, since we came back from our winter break. It was all about diving into an Italian evening with two works by Mauro Bigonzetti. Little did I know how much of an effect the program would have on me emotionally! In Quatre Saisons, the first piece, I had the opportunity to learn a few different spots of which I was certainly grateful, and a little overwhelmed. Being new this year, I still feel like I have to prove something...well, prove that I'm worth something, that I'm worth that contract. This, I realize is entirely my own issue because I have this odd ability to manifest pressure out of NOTHING! surprise, surprise! After all, it's all perception right? Anyways, I pretty much had my plate full with that ballet, but was enjoying working on different parts with various ideas and intentions. Cantata, the second piece, was a whole other ballgame. I like to think of it as the meat on the bones. :)

...................

I really had to pause for a second to think about how to describe this work of art. The way it was described to me was, "It's so much fun. It's a great way to end a performance. You'll feel a special energy and joy on stage." Well, when I first started learning it, I was scared shitless because of course this is so different from anything I've learned before. But this is what I came here for...to learn. So I did my best to throw myself into it, and before I knew it, I was experiencing this passion that people were telling me about. There's something about starting a ballet huddled in a group with a bunch of fellow dancers and singers, singing in Italian. Then after going through a myriad of emotions throughout the ballet, you end with laughing and pretty much a party on stage. Even on a really bad day, it seems impossible to not enjoy yourself even just a little bit!

After performing the program on tour, we came back to Montreal to touch it up once again before performing here. It seemed almost tedious to continue rehearsing the same work over and over again when we'd already performed it, but I managed to uncover a whole other set of feelings while letting it marinate even longer. Looking back on this process I almost feel that everything in this artform should be given time to settle. Time to process in the body. Time to, well literally marinate. Something special seems to happen once you get "comfortable" with choreography. The key is to keep the inspiration coming. And here's where it gets personal, kids.

Ready? (deep breath) This can get difficult as the writer who vowed to be honest and frank.

Over this past year, I feel like I've numbed myself tremendously in order to be able to deal with the extreme change that I created in my life. The move, the new city, new friends, new job, new style, new weather! In order to not get too caught up in missing my comfort zone of my boyfriend, friends, job, home, beach, car...everything, I became slightly numb to it. This is not to be mistaken with numbness all around though. I have greatly enjoyed the experience of moving up here, while sort of reinventing myself as a dancer and as a person. It's a clean slate, and as I've said before that's both exciting and overwhelming. That "vulnerable courage" I spoke of is not an easy thing to take on, and I think with that I might have put on quite a protective layer. This program somehow managed to strip me of that layer...without my permission damn it! What happened?? haha! I thought I was strong! lol. Right...come on.

So we all know that long distance relationships are tough. I knew that going into this and decided to take on the challenge. Pete of course did too. We've been through many ups and downs...and again, through them I feel like I became very numb. I knew it would be months in between visits and I guess I just knew no other way to get through those months. But not having that person around can make someone crazy. Without going into details, we're still going through transitions. I don't know where he's going to be next year, and he doesn't either and that's tough. Long distance, still? I'm working on making my life up here, but it's really hard to feel settled not knowing what's going to happen with this one major part of my life...our relationship.

The first weekend of shows, I was given the chance to perform a solo in Quatre Saisons. I was nervous of course. I wanted things to go well technically, but more importantly, I really wanted to find that "release" on stage. I sometimes call it "the zone." I didn't want to be so focused in my mind that I didn't listen to my heart...BOOM. There we are. In order to do this, I had to open my heart. You can't experience what your heart as to offer if it is closed and numb. I don't believe in coincidences, so I feel that so much of the reading I was doing, the conversations I was having, and the music I was listening to at the time helped me to allow myself to open my heart...without realizing it. The solo I was dancing has kind of an "angst" label to it. They wanted to see the inner struggle...the battle...the pain...anger...whatever you want to call it. It took me awhile, but I knew it was in there. Deep down. Wow, it was there. And a lot of it. I had days that I didn't know if I could actually talk to anyone. I had days that I didn't talk to hardly anyone. Days that I felt like I was going to break down any second...days that I did. Somehow, it all became fuel for my performances. Every second I was onstage I literally threw myself into the movement. It actually became the escape that I needed from my thoughts. My heart was open, and I was letting things out...through my dancing. I even felt my emotions leaking out while watching others dance. It was powerful; overwhelmingly powerful.

Once again, I was reminded of why I dance. When people have asked me in the past why I dance, I used to say, "...because I love to express myself through movement. I love to put my thoughts and emotions into movement." I had a theater teacher in high school that would say, "In a musical, the reason you sing as the actor is because simply speaking the words is no longer cutting it. Your lines should delivered with an urgency that eventually can only lead to singing." That's how I feel about dancing. It's the most natural way for me to describe what I'm going through. I know this sounds cheesy, but I honestly feel relief that I've found that inspiration again because it had been awhile.

I realize this is getting quite long, but I feel the need to tap into one more thing before I sign off. Last week, I found out that my grandmother was taken to the hospital with a slight case of pneumonia. She also had a heart attack but didn't realize it. This woman has battled breast cancer and has lived through miraculous strength. She was on what doctors swore was her deathbed years ago, and she said "I'm not done yet." She fought for her family...for us....for me. She's become the definition of a fighter in my eyes over the years. I am amazed by her powerful strength, love for life, and TREMENDOUS love not just for her family, but for everyone around her. Almost two years ago, her husband passed from his own deteriorating health. Since then, I've seen her light grow dim, but she's still managed to fight through her body's shortcomings. When I'd go home to visit, we'd have coffee each morning and just talk for a couple of hours. I loved it. We were just real...we were vulnerable together. She would tell me that she wanted to keep fighting for us and I believed her, but I knew deep down she'd been struggling with it, and still is.

Needless to say, hearing this information was undeniably difficult. I realize that it's important to accept things as they are. She's getting up there and it's not fair for me to expect her to keep fighting for me. She's tired and that's ok. But it's still hard for me to let that go. I hate to see her struggle, to hurt. After talking to my dad about it, she's decided to not have the surgeries the doctors were recommending. At this point, it's time for nature to run it's course. She's in the process of accepting that and now the family is too. She's out of the hospital now and doing better. I know it's a game of time and that's ok. It's not easy to swallow, but it's ok. I know it's about letting go. But again, with all of the emotions I've been feeling recently I was ready to drop everything and just go to her and be with her. Help her. I wish I could be the nurse that takes care of her everyday, but I can't. It's a difficult responsibility to take on...and slightly unrealistic. I still need to make a living for myself. But life seems to stop. At least I want it to. It doesn't ACTUALLY....I still have to put on a performance kids. Of course! That's what I do for a living.

So guess what happens...I throw myself into it. I didn't really have expectations this weekend. My mom was in town, and I somehow managed to get sick as well. I was nervous about doing well for her...and myself...and with a compromised immune system...little sleep...and lots of emotions, it seemed inevitable that it wouldn't be my best performance. But I realized, "Oh well...all I can do is try my best and have no expectations." I tried to preserve my energy, eat the right fuel, take care of my facility, and have a few quiet moments of meditation before the show to center myself. And I have to say that I've honestly never felt more present on stage. Not that I can remember. Please...this is not about tooting my own horn or anything. Anyone who knows me knows I'm not like that. I'm actually just amazed at the course of events that had amounted to this weekend. As Radiohead says.."Everything in it's right place." The fact that I was talking about trying to find that release on stage...and somehow, it happened. Yes, there are some difficult moments involved, but it all fits into the puzzle. You can't have one without the other. There's always a good side and a tough side, especially when you open your heart and it's completely vulnerable. Looking back, I don't think it should be any other way.

I realize that this is not the end. That week and those shows were hurdles AND gifts set along my path. Life still continues. The highs and the lows. I'm learning to try to not put expectations on each day. You never know what the day will bring after all.

(Image by Alex Grey)

"Born This Way"

Recently, I've had numerous discussions with people regarding self-doubt and insecurity. Well actually, that's how I'd label them. I suppose I actually projected that title to the conversations. Each person added a different element to the situation I find myself in at the moment.

I guess I should start by saying that I had a birthday a little over a week ago. Around birthday-time, I feel myself start to close off with anxiety every year. It's as if someone pressed the stress button in my mind the morning of February 1st, and it remains pressed until around March 1st. It's like a demon has come over me. Everything seems to be slipping away from me for a month, especially my emotions. It's strange because I've never been one to really care about my age or anything...then again, I don't exactly advertise it. I've always felt that naturally, we seem to judge others by age....put them in a box. So I suppose in order to avoid that, I subconsciously don't disclose my age unless someone deliberately asks me. Well, I guess that takes care of that! But what I do find myself concerned with each birthday, is examining my accomplishments thus far. Am I where I want to be? Does that even matter?!!

I know I put pressure on myself constantly...to dance to my fullest capability each day, to be an honest and genuine person, to eat healthy, to learn as much as I can each day regarding my health, do yoga more often, meditate more often, make my house feel like a home by taking on endless projects. The list can go on and on! Without a doubt, I'm a perfectionist and I don't think I know many people in my field who aren't. It comes with the territory. I recently discussed with someone how the study of dance, especially at a young age, somehow takes the joy out of the artform itself! You lose perspective of what you've accomplished, what you've gained, and why you do what you do! That seed of doubt and self-deprication is deeply planted from early on. We plow forward without taking a second to acknowledge the emotional stress we demand of ourselves on a daily basis. This, in turn, I believe saturates our entire lives before we even recognize it. At least, it has for me.

I've always been driven and I've also always dreamt big! I still do! I feel that there are so many things I'd love to do before I die. And I also have another confession to make. Sometimes, I equate having kids and a family with death. Sounds completely ironic right! Those kids are who carry on your legacy! But my life as I know it would be dead. I wouldn't be able to just pick up and leave my job and move to another country. I would have to consider the consequences for numerous others, not just myself. I know...that sounds so selfish right? But honestly kids, that's where I stand at this moment. I can't apologize for that. I am who I am, and if that's what they call selfish, then so be it. My point is each year I turn a year older, I feel less and less accomplished. I don't feel like the woman I'd hoped to become. Is my dancing REALLY helping others? When I see documentaries about artists using they're work to directly benefit those in need, I feel like I'm wasting my time staring at my imperfections in the mirror everyday! I study my natural health and wonder if I'm ever going to be capable of actually consulting people...directly helping people! I look at friends that travel to Uganda every summer to educate and support the orphans that live there and wonder why I haven't taken the leap to do so myself.

You know, I'd like to propose a sidenote here. Those kids in Uganda take great joy in dancing. That is a way of life for them. Dancing and singing for them is the ultimate expression of happiness, joy, and love. I wonder if they have the same anxieties I do as a human being. I wonder if they ever think about how they are impacting others' lives. I'm sure they do. But it's funny to me, because I think about how much they've impacted MY life and I've never even met any of them in person! Just the thought of them inspires me! The idea that there are children in need in Uganda who take TREMENDOUS joy in dancing and singing as a community, despite their short-comings...THAT is called an example.

My dad recently told me, "...you are making pennies, and still devote your life to your passion as a dancer." I suppose that's a story of commitment, of true love for something. I consider myself extremely fortunate for his constant reminders.

This morning, I read something that deeply inspired me throughout the day.
" 'Mindfulness is awareness, from moment to moment, on purpose, without judgment.' Awareness is another word for the condition of being awake....being awake means being 'Engaged, yet detached. Active, yet calm. Moving, yet still.' Purpose is another word for 'intention,' the quality of choosing and acting consciously, rather than reacting automatically. And being without judgment requires us to expand our capacity for acceptance--both self-acceptance and acceptance of others."
"...mindfulness practice suggests that we give up on self-improvement and instead begin a course of self-acceptance. The way out of our unhappiness is not to fix ourselves. We can't root out our flaws....We might try for years, and (they) would still remain. There is only one thing to do. We must learn to love the (flaws)." - Henry Emmons, M.D. (The Chemistry of Joy)

Today, I was talking to a fellow dancer about how I've struggled recently with letting go onstage. It's like my mind takes over my body, my heart closes up, and I hold myself back from my fullest potential onstage. I see glimpses of release, but ONLY glimpses. I long for the show where I completely lose myself in the movement. I feel that doubt is the deep-rooted culprit of this problem. I realized that we train our bodies everyday to do something aesthetically pleasing, but we don't really train our hearts to deal with the constant negative banter that goes on internally in each and every one of us. We must learn to dance without judgment. Is that possible? I realized that dancing is the perfect small-scale way to manifest what happens on the large-scale of life. By learning to push forward physically each day with each class, rehearsal and performance, WITHOUT judging our flaws, we can learn how to come closer to our full potential as artists. As human beings. (I suppose it's more "accepting our flaws.")

I also find it interesting that my favorite dancers are those that move with purpose. Those are the dancers that ALWAYS catch my eye...and keep my eye for that matter. There is something so incredibly enticing about watching a dancer move with intention. You can see the difference between mindless movement and mindful movement. You can have the most incredible facility in the world, but if you don't use it with intention (or dance with awareness), it's not as exciting. At least, that's my personal opinion. It can be such a subtle thing too. But when you see what I'm talking about, you KNOW. When I see it, I'm reminded of why I do what I do. It doesn't matter whether it's choreography or improv. It's incredible to watch someone explore the realm of possibilities with the gifts that they have been given. Each class, each rehearsal, each performance becomes organic and beautiful in it's own way.

Dwayne Wade says he lets each game come to him. He doesn't project what he's going to do until the game tells him. You can't anticipate what's going to happen in a meditation until you actually sit down and begin your meditation. The greatest chefs don't know what's going to happen in the kitchen until they start cooking and let their hearts lead them. The point is that every step taken is done with purpose. There's no judgment. You just go. That's what is taught in meditation. Let each thought pass. Acknowledge it's presence and then let it go. Those doubtful, negative, self-depricating thoughts must be acknowledged...and then let go. I don't think you can pretend to not think something. That's bullshit. That's called ignorance in my opinion. The bottom line is we ALL have negative thoughts, insecurities, flaws, and mistakes. The key is learning to accept them. Accepting ourselves FULLY. Flaws and all. God I wish I could just press another button and I'd understand this. But then I guess there would be no point in living.

If I could have a soudtrack to this blog post, it would be "Born This Way". I don't think it's a coincidence that I've been listening to the Lady GaGa song consistently the past few days. :)

And I will leave with this quote that never gets old to me:
"Half of any person is wrong and weak and off the beaten path. Half! The other half is dancing and swimming and flying in the invisible joy!" -Rumi

Ever dream that you're naked in public?

I knew that moving to Montreal would bring about equal shares of inspiration and challenge. Being in a new environment can be COMPLETELY disarming. Strange though, because at the same time it can also be comforting. Let me explain. While everything around me is for the most part new, I almost feel naked in a sense. Nothin feels comfortable...that's funny, because in reality actually, being naked is physically more comfortable than wearing clothes. However, mentally we've (at least I've) been conditioned to think that wearing something is more comfortable in a social setting I suppose. Society has taught me that wearing clothes...and makeup, and hairstyles, (and even nail polish!) is the perfect way to cover up your flaws. Ever had one of those dreams where you are walking around naked in a public place...but oddly, no one seems to really care? Then all of a sudden, you realize that your naked and you're completely humiliated...even if no one is even looking at you?! At some point, you wake up and realize it's all a dream. What a relief! haha!! Anyways, my point is that when you are taken out of your comfort zone, it's a LITTLE bit like being naked. Everything feels slightly awkward and it takes some time to adjust and feel "normal" again.

At the same time, being in a new place gives one a chance to completely reinvent oneself. It's like you take off your old clothes, feel naked for awhile, and then put something new on! Fundamentally, you're still the same person, but meanwhile some things have changed a bit. Funny though, because I find that recently I'm really trying to hold on to what I know of myself.
This process turns into some crazy philosophy lesson somewhere in the back of my mind though. I mean, who are we really? Are we what our friends tell us we are? Are we what we do? Are you "what you eat"? Does what you identify with make you who you are? It's so easy for me to tell someone, "Yeah, well I'm a dancer, but when I stop dancing, I really want to do something with alternative medicine." I like yoga, but I don't necessarily consider myself a yogi, even though my ego would just LOVE that. I love to cook, but I'm no Julia Child. I love music, but I don't play an instrument and I don't think I could really write for Rolling Stone.

Since I've been here, I've started to connect with new people which can be quite an interesting adventure. After a little time, people naturally start making judgements about you. I don't mean this in a negative way....it's part of human nature whether we like it or not. I know it's going to happen, just like I know I may or may not like what people think of me. I've heard some things that I (well, my ego really) like...

"You kind of remind me of an Avatar." :D
"I figured you would want to go to yoga instead."
"But you seem so much more relaxed than most ballet dancers!"
"She's really funny!"
"You always seem happy."

I've also heard some things I don't like....

"You're like a BALLET ballet dancer."
"You know this...Balanchine."
"You and your YouTube videos. You're like the queen of funny videos."
"You're really into magazines aren't you?"

But the only reason I'd really be happy or unhappy with these comments is if I feel that I identify with them. Well, of course I do! But the other part of me is telling that I'm not just that. I'm not just my ego. Meditation teaches us how to learn to understand ourselves...but NOT ourselves as the day to day person that goes to work, eats, meets with friends on the weekends. It teaches us to learn how to connect our higher selves...that part of us that isn't related to the ego. It's crazy how much we feed our ego without even knowing it. I feel myself doing it just in writing this blog. I LOVE to sound eloquent and philosophical so that someone will stroke my ego and say, "You write so well!" or "That sounds very profound." Oh God, it's nauseating just thinking that I'm doing that! But seriously, we ALL do things like that on a daily basis! I admire those that are able to just put everything out there on the line and not fear being judged by others...or by themselves. Being honest and saying exactly how they feel in that moment. Like a child..."That's my crayon! You can't have it.... because..... I want it now!" Yeah, that's not very polite, but you've got to appreciate the honesty there:)

I find that as I get to know a new group of people here in my life, I'm almost finding freedom in trying to just be myself as who I am on that day. Yeah, maybe I'll get some judgement here and there. But in the end, it doesn't really matter. All that matters to me is that I'm true to who I am fundamentally, not what others perceive me as. And let me be clear...trying does not at all imply success! Of course, this is easier said than done, and I fail on a daily basis! But that's ok, because I know I'll never actually conquer this struggle. I believe one would be considered "enlightened" if they had.

In this freedom and meeting new people, I feel myself moving forward from my previous life. I know some will always stick with me, and memories will always stick with me. But of course, things change, people change. I've realized that things are different where I came from. As much as change is SOO tough for me, I'm learning that I need to let it go and move forward. Life is different back in Miami and while I think it will always be home for me, it won't be the home I knew when I lived and worked there. Circumstances change people, including myself, and I cannot expect otherwise. Needless to say, I think I've reached a turning point here within the past few weeks. As I make new friends.....

Wait, I'm remembering a silly song I learned in school when I was a little tot, but it's SOOO appropriate.

"Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other's gold."

:D I will always have those close friends that will never be forgotten. But I'll also have those friends "of the season". I'm realizing those as I move on to a new life here in Montreal. It's not a bad thing...a little nostlagic, but in a very good way. I will always have GREAT memories in Miami, and for some friends those might have to suffice. For others, I know I'll keep making new memories with them!

Although this is a little bittersweet for me, I also am beginning this new life here and finally starting to appreciate where I am NOW instead of longing for a past that will not return.
One more thing I'd like touch on before I call it a night. Since making this decision to move forward to really sink my teeth into new frienships and my life here, I have also reached a new level of difficulty with my relationship. (I know there will be multiple levels in this situation!) Pete and I have obviously decided to continue our relationship over long-distance. I knew this would be challenging, but I believed (and still believe) in us. At this moment, I find it very hard to move forward while Pete is still part of my previous life in Miami. He's still there, working for my previous employer, and friends with most (if not all) of my friends there. This doesn't sound like a big deal, and at first glance actually sounds very comforting because I still have my connection to those I love there, through him. But no. While I'm moving on here and meeting new people (who, let's face it, still somewhat shape who we are- we are influenced by those around us whether we like it or not)....while I'm here, he's still there. He's not here moving forward with me (physically here at least). I'm now in the position where I'm trying to find the happy medium of developing a life here, while also continuing to develop my relationship with my lovey. Both take an incredible amount of investment. This is a real challenge, and of course I'm learning everyday.

That's all.

Bjork's got it right.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rlkGaCkFrE


After re-reading this blog, I would like to clarify something. I believe that Pete and I ARE moving forward together in our relationship. What I am trying to say is that, while I'm here developing a new life, I wish he could be here with me to experience that, like we did together in Miami. While we still may be moving forward, we're moving forward in a new and different way than we have previously. In no way did I mean that I've put Pete in a box of my past. Our relationship is not limited to time, in my mind. That being said, I am beside myself this week getting ready for his week-long visit, beginning Saturday night! :D

Robert and Stephen

Loss of inspiration has kept me from writing this blog...well, not really. I suppose it's not loss of inspiration, but loss of self-confidence maybe? The past few weeks, I've had some ups, downs, and complete lulls, for lack of a better word. What does one write about? Many days I've walked down the street on a beautiful afternoon, heard the pitter patter of the rain on my window, seen a laughing child or a couple in love that has touched my heart, felt and heard the wind in the trees on my street, and even seen a gorgeous rainbow (just one, not two...mark). I've also visiting with old friends, visited with new friends, cuddled with old pets, acquired (AND cuddled for that matter!) with a new one, made familiar recipes, tried new ones. And of course I've laughed a lot, cried a lot, strutted down the street and embarrassed myself all in the same day sometimes. There have been a myriad of things to write about really, but what do I say? I need to be eloquent, but there are days where I JUST DON'T feel like being eloquent! I just want to vent damn it! A public blog does not seem the place to do so, however I did make a promise that I would be completely honest in my writing. AHHH!

Yes, this is what happens to me often. As a result of my conflicting thoughts, the time somehow comes and goes, and NOTHING is accomplished. I keep saying, "Oh I'll do that tomorrow." Tomorrow becomes yesterday and I'm still left with no blog.

Today, I cannot ignore what my heart is telling me. A series of events has amounted to this moment and I am amazed at how things really happen in life in their perfect time.

First, I somehow managed to find myself wandering into an mountain/outdoor activities store today. In the search for a good winter coat, I figured it would be a good place to start. However, I ended up in the hiking/climbing section of the store. My best friend Stephen has a new-found passion for rock climbing. He constantly has new stories to tell me of his recent accomplishments. So of course, all I could do was think of him the entire time I was in the store.

Being a typical dancer, I've always been slightly hesitant to go rock climbing because I don't want to be terrible. I want to skip forward to the level of "skilled" rock climber. Whatever the hell that means is of course something I made up in my head and Stephen would probably be the first person to remind me of that. However, while wandering around the store today I found myself conceiving a budding desire to start rock climbing! I don't know...maybe being in the north is starting to have an effect on me! I have admired Stephen's ability to nurture his love for this new passion just as much as he has for dance. Being a dancer, it seems sometimes difficult to develop an non-fleeting interest in something. I'm not really sure why, but I suppose it's because for so many years of our lives we were focused on one thing and that was getting a job in a dance company, where we have the privilege of performing and getting paid to do so. A dancer almost lives and breathes it! I've always been one to have many different interests besides dance, but usually they end up being hobbies or things that I say I'll get to one day. (Although, so far my natural health kick has stuck for quite some time, so I'm keeping the dream alive!) Anyways, I've seen a tremendous growth in Stephen since he's begun rock climbing. He's grown mentally, physically, emotionally, and I really feel like it has helped him develop a true sense of who he is, BESIDES being a dancer...and he is confident in that. I admire his ambitious spirit. Needless to say, just being in that store today reminded me of who he is and a twinge of nostalgia crept up.

Later, I got home and opened up my laptop. My friend, Mark, posted an incredible video on Facebook. It was about not giving up on your dreams. I decided that I wanted to send the video to some family members (Dad!) and in the meantime, found myself reading a blog by a New York-born actor. He had written a blog awhile back about Indigo children and how he believed that his two children were ones themselves. I have read a few things about Indigo children myself and have been fascinated by them. For more information about Indigos, here's the link.

http://www.mailonrivera.net/mailonrivera/blog.html

From this point, I decided to actually read a blog by Mark. He's been updating his blog after quite awhile, and I've neglected to read it for too long. I'm a HUGE fan of his writing and realized that THE TIME IS NOW! So I went to the blog and his most recent post of course caught my attention. Allow me...

http://www.yogiboi.com/2010/09/we-love-you-robert.html

Two years ago from tomorrow Stephen's younger brother took his life and changed his family's lives forever. Mark reminisces about that night and the course of events that took place before and after Stephen got the call. It's truly amazing how one phone call can completely change your life from one moment to the next. They were having a typical night, as was I, and within minutes, we were actually pondering the reality of death, and of course the fact that Robert chose death.

Robert has always fascinated me. I remember Stephen telling me stories about his brother and how artistic he was. He seemed to have a mind of his own and didn't like following rules or being told how to live life. He had little art projects he was constantly working on, maybe to escape reality. He was a passionate person...I could tell even though I didn't know him very well. Stephen's family is extremely warm and loving, and I remember Stephen and his mom telling me that Robert wasn't very....is it compassionate? hmmm...words seem to fail me right now. That seems like the wrong choice, especially because I stated that I felt he was a passionate person. However, passion and compassion are two different words. I feel that he definitely had passion. When he spoke, he spoke with conviction...with assurance...with almost anger that no one understood what he was saying. But that "anger" made it appear that he didn't maybe have a lot of compassion for some people. He seemed rather frustrated with the general population, instead. After he passed, Stephen came home with some of his drawings and videos. His work seemed to scream that he was seeing something beyond many people's comprehension.

It was always apparent to me that Robert had a vision and it was without a doubt profound. Call me crazy, but that boy had a gift. I think that Stephen (and Mark) would probably agree. This brings me to the course of events that happened today. I have believed for awhile that Robert was an Indigo child. When you read the characteristics of an Indigo, Robert seems to be all over it. Maybe he realized something that could not be communicated in this life. Maybe he tried to communicate it and no one around could understand. As a teenager....actually, as a human being, that can be a very lonely place. Maybe that's presumptuous for me to say, but there's always been something inside of me telling that Robert had something to teach us. If we haven't learned it yet, I hope we do at some point. Maybe it's the awareness of Indigo children and the misconception society can have about them. Maybe not.

It was no accident that I read that blog today. Well both actually, and one after the other. It was a reminder of the life that Robert had here on Earth. I do believe that he will continue to teach and perhaps try to communicate with some of us through his later artwork, or maybe through something beyond our knowledge and understanding. Either way, the Satterfield family is of course not the same. But through hard times, I have seen how the family has pulled through, with each other and with their individual passions. I cannot even comprehend a loss like that, but I know that even though it probably won't ever get easier to cope with, life still does go on. And I have seen Stephen, in particular, move forward with amazing grace. I am blessed to have had the privilege of witnessing his growth the past few years. He is an amazing human being, just like his brother. Stephen was in my thoughts all day today...again, no accident. Robert, Stephen and the rest of the Satterfield family will be in my thoughts tomorrow as well. We should celebrate the life and spirit that continues TO BE, even without the physical body. Cheers to Robert.