Monday, January 25, 2010
How Can I Talk To You?
We can rhapsodize about music and art and pedagogy. We can enter into intellectual, philosphical debates about everything under the sun. We can challenge, question, and agree or disagree about all of it. We feed from this discourse, our blood and our thoughts and our passions pump through us, invigorating and sustaining us. We are alive, and we are together.
But when it comes to me, the way I live my life, the choices and the paths I take, we look at eachother like strangers. We speak different languages. Our biorhythms clash. Our faces and feelings become alien. Judgement and fear and regret pound our beings so hard, we can barely find our footing. We lose the ground. We lose eachother.
And we don't know what to do. We don't have a clue.
I came to you with news--great news, I thought. News that excited me and represented change, hope for a future more in-line with who I am and who I want to be. I came to you, eager to share and rejoice in the possibility of the unknown. I came to you, for the first time, as an equal, as the friendly confidant and companion I've always hoped we could become. But you tore me down.
The voice I heard was full of worry and condescention. The words and the questions were not of support, not one of them, but of criticism and fear of failure. Your viewpoint was so far away from mine, so unwilling to meet me where I needed you.
I immediately jumped the fence, becoming defensive and emotional. I became the angry teenager, stomping down the hallway and slamming the door twice just to be sure you heard it.
I hung up the phone disillusioned, disappointed, hurt. You hung up the phone in tears. I called to create a connection, a bond I've rarely felt with you, and I hung up farther down that hallway than ever.
I want--I need--you to see me as a capable adult. I need you to let me make my own mistakes, regardless of what you've learned or experienced in your life. I need you to believe that I will be okay and I will make a life worth living. I need you to care about me, but not doubt me. I need you to realize that you might not have all the answers, you might not know everything about what is right for me. I need you to let me go.
I thought you said I could do anything I wanted, be anything I wanted. I thought you said I was special.
Then why, the first time I've EVER stepped out of my comfort zone--both in my life and in my communications with you--did you stomp all over my dreams? Why couldn't you, for once, tell me that the universe would support me and allow for magic to arrive, finally, after long last? Why couldn't you be a cheerleader for my happiness and fulfillment, not the dollar amount on a paycheck? Why?
Maybe you never actually said that I could do anything, be anything. Maybe it was a figment of my imagination. Or maybe you said it, but never really believed it.
And that lack of faith, that skepticism, is something I do not and will not accept. It is something I do not, will not understand.
This is why I don't know how to talk to you. This is why I choose not to.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
From "Heal Your Body" by L.L. Hay
Thursday, January 21, 2010
When am I most in touch with a sense of inner connection, guiding strength, calming love, reassurance or ease?
When I’m writing, free writing, letting my thoughts flow without editing. When I have the time and space and willingness to listen to my inner voice. She always knows what to do. It is when I ignore her that I get myself into trouble.
How can I build a structure for this inner connection into my life? (group or class? A friend? A place in nature? Etc.)
Morning pages. Morning yoga. Aryuveda massage after shower. Walk dog. Go to the river. Take moments to breathe. To unwind at the end of the day. Keep dancing. Keep going to yoga. Keep in contact with Ian and Liz. Keep in contact with Sawrah and Marie.
How do I find my inner voice of wisdom?
By listening. And then trusting.
When have I heard my wisdom in the past?
When I consciously called upon it, listened, recorded it, and then thought about how the wisdom applies to and affects my life at that particular moment. When I was ready to listen. When I was ready for clarity. When I asked for help and guidance.
What power do I believe in and how can I strengthen my relationship with this power?
I believe in the connective power in and among all human beings and nature and the universe. Though we have a perceived separation and beginning and ending to things, I believe it is all unending and loving and inclusive. I can strengthen my relationship with it by daily reminding myself of this and clarifying my role as one piece of the grand whole. I can become closer to and more aware of myself, and through that strengthened self-awareness I will be closer to the connective power.
What kind of divine being did you grow up with? Is that definition still helpful to you or do you need to let that definition go so that you can have a new experience in your life?
I grew up on the Science of Spirituality, which sells itself as a hippie-type practice but has somehow defined it self in my consciousness as something that expects a perfection I can’t achieve. I am resentful when I am pulled into it time and time again, but I still haven’t outright said no. I think it is because that is outright saying no to the path my parents took, and I still have this sick idea that I have to impress them, that I have to do what they expect of me. But really, I think I need to let that go—let go of their expectations and let go of their spiritual practice. I need to explore my yoga, my ideas, my writing, my passions. I need to follow my path. Not “the” path as they call “their” path. I need to forgive myself for that and embrace the idea that I need something different and that’s OKAY.
What if I gave myself two years to explore my interests or to try a particular path?
· I will get questions and worries and tears and lectures from everyone who thinks what I’m doing is dangerous.
· My mother will shed tears and lose sleep.
· My father will wish I was putting more money away towards retirement.
· My doubt voice will wonder if I can hack it, if this following your bliss shit is actually legit.
· But what if I love it?
· What if I love the unpredictability and the apparent instability?
· What if I thrive from the challenge and push towards a more fulfilling, and thus more truly stable, existence?
· What if believing I can actually turns into I CAN and I DID?
· What if the two years becomes the jumping off point for this life of artistic exploration I’ve so been longing for and whining and pining for ever since I walked away from my initial desire…?
· I believe giving myself this two year exploration will be the beginning of the life I will love.
· I believe it will show me I can do what invigorates me AND feel stable.
· I believe I will learn to love myself through the experience.
What would my life look like then?
· I would be living close to the shore, with a fellow dance teacher and my dog. I would have my mornings to work a shift, do some yoga, and exercise with my dog, write/read/create, or just walk along the beach.
· Then, I would go to the studio where I would help with everything from administrative work to class preparation work. I would be learning to teach ballroom dance, while honing my own skills and developing my confidence, trusting that I do have the ability to dance beautifully and expressively.
· I do have the ability to inspire others, to capture their attentions and imaginations for a few moments while I glide with a partner or by myself across the dance floor. I have the ability to choreograph my future. I have the ability to be happier and more invigorated by my life and my job.
· And, as a result, the steps and the years to follow will continue to be fruitful and inspiring. For the rest of my days.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
1. I give myself permission to believe in myself, to believe that the unconventional and unexpected can be achieved.
2. I give myself permission to not do exactly what my parents would expect of me or choose for me.
3. I give myself permission to not make the for-ever career choices, but rather the for-now choices.
4. I give myself permission to trust that that is okay.
5. I give myself permission to dance, and to believe that I have talent.
6. I give myself permission to believe, to see what others believe and see about me.
7. I give myself permission to breathe. To listen. To move. To be. In body, mind, and spirit.
8. I give myself permission to walk away, towards a new beginning.
9. I give myself permission to do something for me, with only me in mind.
10. I give myself permission to live the life I dreamed for myself long ago, when I had the gall to believe it could happen—I give myself permission to follow my heart towards a dance, artistic, socially and actively aware life.
11. I give myself permission to prove the haters wrong.
12. I give myself to be the adult I know I am, while still feeding the child-spirit within.
13. I give myself permission to be strong—mentally, physically, spiritually.
14. I give myself permission to find my own spiritual path. My own life’s path. My own path. A path. Not THE path.
15. I give myself permission to fall in love with A right, not THE right, partner.
16. I give myself permission to not have my whole future planned, to just be in the here and now.
17. I give myself permission to wag my tail, to enjoy life by myself and with others—just like my dog. I also give myself permission to enjoy and bond with my dog.
18. I give myself permission to be perfectly imperfect.
19. I give myself permission to love and explore the many different things that fascinate and invigorate me.
20. I give myself permission to be truly me.