Friday, July 09, 2010
Blast from the past...
Interesting that I was thinking this FIVE YEARS AGO. Talk about ignoring gut feelings....
Healing Paralysis
A letter I wrote to a casting agent, for a show dealing with inspiring people to change...I think I sent it too late for the cut, but it was a great exercise for me anyway.
___________________________________________________
I am 27 years old, and I have ignored myself for nearly half of my life. I have made life choices solely based on what I thought other people needed or wanted me to do. I have turned my back on pathways and opportunities because the little voices in my head--you know the ones: the naysayers, the judgers, the I-told-you-so-ers--made me think I wasn't good enough or the choice wasn't right. For as long as I can remember, I cared more about what other people were thinking about me than what I thought, what I KNEW about myself all along. THAT voice, the REAL voice, was stifled by the others, silenced by the doubt and insecurity running my life.
I've been paralyzed by fear of failure and loneliness. And I'm sick of it. I am finally ready to make some choices, some hard changes, to open up the pathways to possibility in my life.
I have been doing the "right" thing for a while now--I was an A student, I went to college and double-majored (still finishing in four years), I went to Graduate school, I immediately got a good job working as a teacher in a high-powered high school in CT. I dove right into the job, immediately getting involved in the extra-curricular activities. I should have known from the start that I was still looking for something else, something that was really going to satisfy, to challenge me--something other than what I found within the confines of the classroom and traditional public school teaching.
My dad told me I was set for life. Some of the teachers I worked with told me I was going to be a Lifer. And each time I heard things like this, I cringed. I looked around and a room full of teachers, people I absolutely love, and saw many who got stuck, who wanted something more or different but needed the stability. The need for the structure and the health care and the regular check seemed to be the reason many of them didn't try for some other career or life path. Was this really what my life was going to be? The more I saw, the more I felt limited and boxed in. I knew had to get out.
I HAVE to get out.
I have to find a way to meld together the loves of my life. I have to find a way to the dreamland I see for myself.
This is what I know: I care about wellness in the body, mind, and creative spirit. I care about finding the healthiest, most inspired space within myself and helping others find it within themselves. I want to meld together my interests in dance, theater, writing, wellness, youth mentorship, community building, and education. I want to continue to stretch and grow in what I know—intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. I want to support this spirit of growth and play in others, as well.
SPECIFICALLY (and long-term) MY DREAM IS......
Creating a space—a physical place, but also a creative space within everyone who walks through the door—where multiple genres of art and creation and healing can occur. This space will allow for a community of artists and lovers of art. The genres will include music (with performance and recording opportunities), poetry, writing, multi-genre performance art, dance, yoga, theater, therapy (play therapy, dance/theater therapy, perhaps massage), etc. There will be classes, workshops, events continuously filling the space with life, excitement, and change.
The space will be an ever-changing vessel for what the community that fills it needs at any given time. A concrete container for the ineffable energy pulsing and generating from the people and the moments within.
These are big ideas, big dreams. And sometimes I just don't know what to do with them. Until this year, I just ignored them--put them on the back burner, blamed the world for being so unreasonable and unfair--and went back to my safe little teaching job.
But this year, something has begun to change. I've started to listen to the authentic voice inside, and sometimes it's quite difficult. Sometimes it is drowned out by the worldly din outside. Sometimes the questions and the doubts and the worries of the people I love find their way in. Sometimes I wonder if I'm a crazy person, if somehow I've been embodied by some extraterrestrial hell-bent on making my life a whirlwind of the unknown. But mostly, I know and trust that I'm doing the right thing, even if I don't have a clear idea of what that is yet.
On Friday, I wrote my letter of resignation. It's as real as ever. I am moving to NH where I can actually breathe. Somehow, I just know the place is right. It makes me feel alive, personally and creatively. But the thing is, I'm not entirely sure what will open up for me.
I am absolutely thrilled...and scared to death.
I am writing to you--a bit later than I intended, with my fingers crossed that it's not too late--in hopes that I can find some support. Maybe by reaching out, I'll find that there are options out there, that this leap of faith is not career suicide, that following my heart will not lead me to failure. I've taken some first steps, which I hope will lead me to the right next steps, but sometimes I doubt and I question myself and this "trusting the universe" new age-y stuff.
I guess I'm writing to you for help and for assurance. I'm writing to you, hoping that it will help me find that next right step on this crazy journey of my life.
--
~*~Tina~*~
We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance. ~Japanese Proverb
___________________________________________________
I am 27 years old, and I have ignored myself for nearly half of my life. I have made life choices solely based on what I thought other people needed or wanted me to do. I have turned my back on pathways and opportunities because the little voices in my head--you know the ones: the naysayers, the judgers, the I-told-you-so-ers--made me think I wasn't good enough or the choice wasn't right. For as long as I can remember, I cared more about what other people were thinking about me than what I thought, what I KNEW about myself all along. THAT voice, the REAL voice, was stifled by the others, silenced by the doubt and insecurity running my life.
I've been paralyzed by fear of failure and loneliness. And I'm sick of it. I am finally ready to make some choices, some hard changes, to open up the pathways to possibility in my life.
I have been doing the "right" thing for a while now--I was an A student, I went to college and double-majored (still finishing in four years), I went to Graduate school, I immediately got a good job working as a teacher in a high-powered high school in CT. I dove right into the job, immediately getting involved in the extra-curricular activities. I should have known from the start that I was still looking for something else, something that was really going to satisfy, to challenge me--something other than what I found within the confines of the classroom and traditional public school teaching.
My dad told me I was set for life. Some of the teachers I worked with told me I was going to be a Lifer. And each time I heard things like this, I cringed. I looked around and a room full of teachers, people I absolutely love, and saw many who got stuck, who wanted something more or different but needed the stability. The need for the structure and the health care and the regular check seemed to be the reason many of them didn't try for some other career or life path. Was this really what my life was going to be? The more I saw, the more I felt limited and boxed in. I knew had to get out.
I HAVE to get out.
I have to find a way to meld together the loves of my life. I have to find a way to the dreamland I see for myself.
This is what I know: I care about wellness in the body, mind, and creative spirit. I care about finding the healthiest, most inspired space within myself and helping others find it within themselves. I want to meld together my interests in dance, theater, writing, wellness, youth mentorship, community building, and education. I want to continue to stretch and grow in what I know—intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. I want to support this spirit of growth and play in others, as well.
SPECIFICALLY (and long-term) MY DREAM IS......
Creating a space—a physical place, but also a creative space within everyone who walks through the door—where multiple genres of art and creation and healing can occur. This space will allow for a community of artists and lovers of art. The genres will include music (with performance and recording opportunities), poetry, writing, multi-genre performance art, dance, yoga, theater, therapy (play therapy, dance/theater therapy, perhaps massage), etc. There will be classes, workshops, events continuously filling the space with life, excitement, and change.
The space will be an ever-changing vessel for what the community that fills it needs at any given time. A concrete container for the ineffable energy pulsing and generating from the people and the moments within.
These are big ideas, big dreams. And sometimes I just don't know what to do with them. Until this year, I just ignored them--put them on the back burner, blamed the world for being so unreasonable and unfair--and went back to my safe little teaching job.
But this year, something has begun to change. I've started to listen to the authentic voice inside, and sometimes it's quite difficult. Sometimes it is drowned out by the worldly din outside. Sometimes the questions and the doubts and the worries of the people I love find their way in. Sometimes I wonder if I'm a crazy person, if somehow I've been embodied by some extraterrestrial hell-bent on making my life a whirlwind of the unknown. But mostly, I know and trust that I'm doing the right thing, even if I don't have a clear idea of what that is yet.
On Friday, I wrote my letter of resignation. It's as real as ever. I am moving to NH where I can actually breathe. Somehow, I just know the place is right. It makes me feel alive, personally and creatively. But the thing is, I'm not entirely sure what will open up for me.
I am absolutely thrilled...and scared to death.
I am writing to you--a bit later than I intended, with my fingers crossed that it's not too late--in hopes that I can find some support. Maybe by reaching out, I'll find that there are options out there, that this leap of faith is not career suicide, that following my heart will not lead me to failure. I've taken some first steps, which I hope will lead me to the right next steps, but sometimes I doubt and I question myself and this "trusting the universe" new age-y stuff.
I guess I'm writing to you for help and for assurance. I'm writing to you, hoping that it will help me find that next right step on this crazy journey of my life.
--
~*~Tina~*~
We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance. ~Japanese Proverb
Diving into life...
A letter posted on my GHS facebook account, to my students of all types...
_________________________________________________________
To my cherubs new and old, to my drama clubbers, to my ballroom dancers, to my English students, to my ABC boys, to all of you,
I thought it about time that I send out a message into the electronic ethos, in case any of you were looking for something to read (to avoid your summer reading, of course :). I also am thinking that this facebook account is going to disappear at some point this summer, so I wanted to bid it (and you all) farewell. But more than either of those reasons, I wanted to thank each and every one of you for the part you've played in this stage of my life.
Without you all, I would not have had the courage to listen to my heart and depart on an adventure to find the life that honors its song. Translation--it is because of my time at GHS and the people I met there that I am trusting and believing in myself.
I am inspired, daily, by teenagers and young adults. You are not what the majority of adults think you are. You are positive, creative, energetic, aware. Many of the words I've read and listened to, from the mouths of young people, have made me stop in my tracks and rethink what I thought I knew. I have learned that working with this age group is something that I will build my career around. But I have also learned that my career will look quite different than the traditional public school setting.
Time will tell how it will all come together in the end. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy every step of the journey. And this is what I hope for all of you, as well. Enjoy each day, each moment, as it comes, trusting that it will all end the way it's supposed to. This is much harder than it seems, but it's so important.
There is so much I could say, but let me just finish with a few thank you's: Thanks for the side splitting laughter, the Saturday rehearsals, the dance competitions, the philosophical discussions, the "is it morning?'s," the raucous ABC dinners, the smiles in the hallways. Thank you for your insights, your questions, your challenges, your suggestions. Thank you for your intelligence, your talent, your passion, and your trust. Thanks for two fabulous musicals. Thanks for beginning the first ballroom dance club at GHS. Thanks for traveling to Ireland with me four years ago. Thanks for thinking, talking, and listening. Thanks for the energy boosts and the positivity when I needed them most. Thanks for all of this and so much more.
I said it before and I'll say it again--if it weren't for this stage in my life, I wouldn't be prepared for the next. For that, I will be eternally grateful.
I wish you all the best. I wish you love, happiness, and success (however you define that). I wish you the support and the courage to find what it is you LOVE to do, and then to pursue it wholeheartedly.
Peace, love, and laughter,
Ms. G/Mama G
_________________________________________________________
To my cherubs new and old, to my drama clubbers, to my ballroom dancers, to my English students, to my ABC boys, to all of you,
I thought it about time that I send out a message into the electronic ethos, in case any of you were looking for something to read (to avoid your summer reading, of course :). I also am thinking that this facebook account is going to disappear at some point this summer, so I wanted to bid it (and you all) farewell. But more than either of those reasons, I wanted to thank each and every one of you for the part you've played in this stage of my life.
Without you all, I would not have had the courage to listen to my heart and depart on an adventure to find the life that honors its song. Translation--it is because of my time at GHS and the people I met there that I am trusting and believing in myself.
I am inspired, daily, by teenagers and young adults. You are not what the majority of adults think you are. You are positive, creative, energetic, aware. Many of the words I've read and listened to, from the mouths of young people, have made me stop in my tracks and rethink what I thought I knew. I have learned that working with this age group is something that I will build my career around. But I have also learned that my career will look quite different than the traditional public school setting.
Time will tell how it will all come together in the end. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy every step of the journey. And this is what I hope for all of you, as well. Enjoy each day, each moment, as it comes, trusting that it will all end the way it's supposed to. This is much harder than it seems, but it's so important.
There is so much I could say, but let me just finish with a few thank you's: Thanks for the side splitting laughter, the Saturday rehearsals, the dance competitions, the philosophical discussions, the "is it morning?'s," the raucous ABC dinners, the smiles in the hallways. Thank you for your insights, your questions, your challenges, your suggestions. Thank you for your intelligence, your talent, your passion, and your trust. Thanks for two fabulous musicals. Thanks for beginning the first ballroom dance club at GHS. Thanks for traveling to Ireland with me four years ago. Thanks for thinking, talking, and listening. Thanks for the energy boosts and the positivity when I needed them most. Thanks for all of this and so much more.
I said it before and I'll say it again--if it weren't for this stage in my life, I wouldn't be prepared for the next. For that, I will be eternally grateful.
I wish you all the best. I wish you love, happiness, and success (however you define that). I wish you the support and the courage to find what it is you LOVE to do, and then to pursue it wholeheartedly.
Peace, love, and laughter,
Ms. G/Mama G
Friday, May 28, 2010
For Yoga Beginners: Operation Lotus | Crazy Sexy Life
"Yet small seeds do not doubt whether they will become trees. They trust the natural process of evolution and growth that takes them from seeds to sprouting seedlings to flowering, fruitful trees. With proper nutrients, care and love the flower of your inner lotus is sure to grow to maturity in the fertile soil of your own consciousness."
This inspires me to believe in the process, the journey, the in-the-middle-of-things madness. Trust. Faith. Belief.
Easier said than done, but I plan on showing up everyday and trying to let the seed grow as it is meant to. Naturally. Beautifully. Without fail.
For Yoga Beginners: Operation Lotus | Crazy Sexy Life
This inspires me to believe in the process, the journey, the in-the-middle-of-things madness. Trust. Faith. Belief.
Easier said than done, but I plan on showing up everyday and trying to let the seed grow as it is meant to. Naturally. Beautifully. Without fail.
For Yoga Beginners: Operation Lotus | Crazy Sexy Life
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The Empty Stage
I was asked to speak at our National Honors Society induction this evening:
_________________________________________________________
Good evening and welcome—to all of you—to all of the family, friends, and faculty who are here supporting and celebrating the induction of approximately 180 exceptional human beings into the National Honors Society.
I have spent a lot of time on this stage and others. I’ve performed, I’ve directed, and I’ve received honors like this one. All of that is wonderful, but I have to tell you: Every time I step foot onto an empty stage, I get chills. I walk across the floor, my footsteps echoing as I move into the space, visualizing the past, present, and future. I close my eyes and see singers, actors, dancers, and musicians. I see stage hands and techies. I see show stoppers. I see music and drama reverberating to the back of the theater. I see the shifting faces of audiences applauding through the years. I see it all. I stand at center stage, lights asleep, the sound of a generator humming gently, and I know that there is so much more to come. I breathe in possibility here, on an empty stage.
Today, I am deeply honored to be sharing this stage with such beautiful people. I mean that. And I’m not talking, the stylin’ new haircut you got this weekend, or that bright summer dress you’re wearing tonight, or the hot new kicks you’re rockin’. No. I’m talking about something else entirely, something far more important. When I look out at all of your smiling faces—go on, smile! There it is—you glow. Don’t they? You are glowing with everything you are, everything that brought you here to this moment, but more importantly, you are glowing with a beautiful spirit that is far wiser and far stronger than your young life might indicate to any of us.
When I look out at all of you, I can actually see the spirit of spring. And more than anyone else, we New Englanders appreciate the springtime. Spring is a season of new beginnings, growth, and waking up. It is a time when we stretch-out stiff muscles, open our doors, and burst out into blooming gardens, remembering and rejoicing all that is good and hopeful in the world. Spring is the light at the end of the tunnel, the time we all wait for when the dark, freezing-cold winters seem endless and unbearable. Spring is a time for awards and graduations, for ceremonies and celebrations, for recognizing accomplishments.
And here we are, on this stage, full of smiling faces now, recognizing you for being the whole package. Today, we celebrate your strong character, your leadership, your scholarship, and your willingness to serve. This is more than just making the honor roll on your report card. Today, you are making the honor roll for being a good person.
While we’re here in the springtime, in this moment of happiness, on this full and glowing stage, I would like to offer a challenge. I challenge each and every one of you to honor the empty stage, to honor and recognize endless possibilities. I challenge you also to honor the process—the beginnings, the middles, the endings and then the resulting new beginnings that follow. I challenge you to embrace the middle of the winter when everything is encrusted with dirty snow and it seems like the blue skies will never come back. I challenge you to honor all of the seasons, all steps in a process, no matter how difficult. I challenge you to do all of this and STILL be the beautiful, glowing, giving person sitting here today.
The true test is to embody all elements of your being when an award or recognition is not in sight. The true test will be if you can maintain the essence of the NHS throughout your life, long after you’ve forgotten what the four pillars actually stand for.
Congratulations! It’s on you now. It is your responsibility to share yourself and your beautiful spirit with the rest of the world. And I, for one, am so excited to see all the good you will do.
_________________________________________________________
Good evening and welcome—to all of you—to all of the family, friends, and faculty who are here supporting and celebrating the induction of approximately 180 exceptional human beings into the National Honors Society.
I have spent a lot of time on this stage and others. I’ve performed, I’ve directed, and I’ve received honors like this one. All of that is wonderful, but I have to tell you: Every time I step foot onto an empty stage, I get chills. I walk across the floor, my footsteps echoing as I move into the space, visualizing the past, present, and future. I close my eyes and see singers, actors, dancers, and musicians. I see stage hands and techies. I see show stoppers. I see music and drama reverberating to the back of the theater. I see the shifting faces of audiences applauding through the years. I see it all. I stand at center stage, lights asleep, the sound of a generator humming gently, and I know that there is so much more to come. I breathe in possibility here, on an empty stage.
Today, I am deeply honored to be sharing this stage with such beautiful people. I mean that. And I’m not talking, the stylin’ new haircut you got this weekend, or that bright summer dress you’re wearing tonight, or the hot new kicks you’re rockin’. No. I’m talking about something else entirely, something far more important. When I look out at all of your smiling faces—go on, smile! There it is—you glow. Don’t they? You are glowing with everything you are, everything that brought you here to this moment, but more importantly, you are glowing with a beautiful spirit that is far wiser and far stronger than your young life might indicate to any of us.
When I look out at all of you, I can actually see the spirit of spring. And more than anyone else, we New Englanders appreciate the springtime. Spring is a season of new beginnings, growth, and waking up. It is a time when we stretch-out stiff muscles, open our doors, and burst out into blooming gardens, remembering and rejoicing all that is good and hopeful in the world. Spring is the light at the end of the tunnel, the time we all wait for when the dark, freezing-cold winters seem endless and unbearable. Spring is a time for awards and graduations, for ceremonies and celebrations, for recognizing accomplishments.
And here we are, on this stage, full of smiling faces now, recognizing you for being the whole package. Today, we celebrate your strong character, your leadership, your scholarship, and your willingness to serve. This is more than just making the honor roll on your report card. Today, you are making the honor roll for being a good person.
While we’re here in the springtime, in this moment of happiness, on this full and glowing stage, I would like to offer a challenge. I challenge each and every one of you to honor the empty stage, to honor and recognize endless possibilities. I challenge you also to honor the process—the beginnings, the middles, the endings and then the resulting new beginnings that follow. I challenge you to embrace the middle of the winter when everything is encrusted with dirty snow and it seems like the blue skies will never come back. I challenge you to honor all of the seasons, all steps in a process, no matter how difficult. I challenge you to do all of this and STILL be the beautiful, glowing, giving person sitting here today.
The true test is to embody all elements of your being when an award or recognition is not in sight. The true test will be if you can maintain the essence of the NHS throughout your life, long after you’ve forgotten what the four pillars actually stand for.
Congratulations! It’s on you now. It is your responsibility to share yourself and your beautiful spirit with the rest of the world. And I, for one, am so excited to see all the good you will do.
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