I Think I Want to Start Smoking

Many mornings, while I am making my first cup of coffee, I gaze out of our kitchen window and see our neighbor on their front doorstep having a morning cigarette. She is doing nothing else. She is simply outside, gazing into space or nature or checking out the weeds in the flower garden for all I know. She is still. She is outside. She is smoking.

It is a serene sight. It makes me want to smoke.

There are a lot of pros to this idea:

• you must smoke outdoors (in most cases)
• the smoke acts as a natural mosquito repellent 
• your body naturally craves this forced down-time
• long, deep inhales followed by consciously exhaling
• it is a forced work break
• in social situations, it is a reason to step aside for a while
• it is a break as long as the cigarette lasts - not too long, not too short
• if I could smoke instead of eat, I could fit back into my clothes in due time

Yes, I know. The con list is longer, more logical and scientifically proven to win any debate on the matter. The cons win. Hands down. But what could a person substitute for smoking to gain the benefits?

Stepping outside, just to breathe the air, listen to the birds and watch the clouds is so alluring. Yet I don't take that one small step. It's too hot/cold/windy/rainy. There are too many bugs. The cats will want to go outside with me.

The only thing my body seems to naturally crave is food, coffee and bathroom breaks. I multitask whenever I do "any of the above". I turn on the TV/check emails/grab my phone or a number of other distractions when my body is simply telling me to STOP. 

The only time I catch myself breathing deeply is when I'm in way over my head within my little home office. I breath deeply a lot. Not the quite the same as taking that long, deep breath on our deck. At least I'm breathing.

I manage socializing when I must. In fact in most cases I actually enjoy it. Even more true, is the fact that those whose ears I am talking off may quite possibly wish I did smoke so I would know when to end a conversation. Inserting a natural pause into a social setting could benefit mankind.

When I do take a break, I either stop too long or not long enough. I grab a bite to eat, turn on the TV and either stop only long enough to inhale what is on my plate or I shut down entirely. On the days I stop cold, only the sound of a ringing phone, incoming text message or email spur me back into my office.

Replacing eating with a bright new habit would be such a boon. The comfort I get from chewing, savoring, swallowing and going back for more food really, really makes me wish I smoked. I have a feeling this is part of the allure into this deadly habit. 

Dancing. Those were the days. I would turn on the music and simply dance. I would practise dance steps, technique and/or new choreography. Music filled the air and I was lost in the moments. There was no room for any other thoughts when I was in the dance studio. It was like walking into Cheers, where everyone knew my name. Everyone was united in a common interest and quest to move to the beat of whatever music was playing.

It could be somewhat foolish looking to start dancing outside on my deck. But hey! "Dance like no one is watching" is something I've heard somewhere.

It is probably healthier than smoking.

P.S. The high cost of dancing, the great discomfort of wearing dance shoes, the need to update my wardrobe, my work schedule and the fact that my most favorite dance studio in the world closed down has eliminated dancing as a replacement for smoking. I may start smoking after all ...

Speaking of "73"

As the number 73 rolled in and around and through my thoughts this morning, I remembered one more fun fact. Today is Cher's 73rd birthday.

My sister and I will be going to see Cher in three days. We will sit back and marvel at what "73" looks like on Cher. I am prepared to be amazed.

I have a feeling even my very ambitious mother couldn't hold a candle to Cher's performance on stage (I can hear her raspy voice reply, "Nor would I want to!"). In the same token, I wonder if Cher could have kept up with Mom's ambition levels (I've still got your back, Mom).

I listened to an interview with Cher as she spoke about her current tour. She mentioned (I'm paraphrasing here so this is not exactly what she said) that she gives her all when she is on stage but the moment she is out of the spotlight, she is in recovery mode. Judging by her past performances, she doesn't have very long recovery periods yet she continues to go back "on" and in full performance mode.

As I wrote of Mom's ambition, motivation and perseverance at the age of 73 being akin to a marathon and my tendency to simply take on life in short 100 yard dashes (then rest and recoup) ... I wonder if Cher and I may have something in common after all...

I remember the way the music of the 70's seeped into my entire heart and soul at my 35th high school reunion. I danced like no one was watching. People commented on "how fit I was" at the time. Yes, that was six years ago. No, I haven't done much to maintain that level of fitness. But I remember the feeling well. My heart began to beat to the beat of the music and I was the music. The music was me.

I wonder if that is how Cher feels when she is singing and dancing to the beat of the music that has been a part of her existence for the past 60+ years.

73 ... 73 ... 73 ...

The number 73 is still speaking to me today. Happy Birthday, Cher!!

Breaking Free

My thoughts are all over the map so I have no idea where this post will go. Quite possibly it will end up circling around a few times before going no where and finishing up with no significant point. Oh well. Here goes nothing ...

This abbreviated work week is full of all kinds of diversions and twists from the norm. I don't know how it will end but any week that starts on a Tuesday is off to a running start.

The week started with an afternoon road trip which ended with me visiting with my sister in her park like back yard. The visit was short, sweet and a complete treat. The day wound down by heading off to "Danceland" for a little stroll down memory lane before we headed for home.

Danceland - I love the pictures that waft through my mind at the sound of that word. Yesterday I got to wander inside and take a peek at a small piece of local history which has transcended all time. As I gazed upon the dance floor, I could feel the past come up and touch me.

The desire to dance keeps coming to the forefront of my mind.

• Dancing is more effective than counselling
• Remembering those joy filled dance years
• Keeping in touch with friends from the dance studio
• An invitation to "like" my old dance studio's Facebook page
• Mom's love of dancing and her encouragement when I danced ...

Walking into the dance hall at Danceland rekindled all of those thoughts and made me wonder. Could I? Should I? Would I dance again??

Heaven knows I need the exercise! A little side order of "joy" sounds pretty enticing too. 

It started slowly and picked up speed, but I have actually made plans, bought tickets and looked beyond "today" for the first time in a long while. Writing an upcoming commitment on the calendar no longer holds the power to paralyze me as it has done in the past. I'm spending money like there's no tomorrow. 

I panicked at the way money seems to be flowing through my carefully planned budgeting scheme and chastised myself for spending so frivolously. Then I reminded myself that I have done this in the past. I have looked ahead, booked ahead, gone away and made memories. I didn't worry about the money and reminded myself over and over and over again - it all works out in the end.

I have spent much more money than I will be spending this upcoming summer. I did it during a time when my bills were higher, my pay cheque was lower and I had less available time than I do right now. I knew there would be no regrets. I just knew it.

I look back and think back on those whimsical trips and I was right. Even at the time, I was pretty sure I would never live to regret those indulgences, the memories made and the money that fell through my hands during what were some of the leanest, but best years of my life.

The dream has to come alive again. It is coming. It is a little frightening but I am starting to break free from the cocoon I have spun around myself. 

I have to break free of these restraints myself. I have not yet found the courage to say "yes" to everything. My wings are not that strong quite yet. But what I have found is that I am regaining my strength by learning when I need to say "no". When the mere idea of saying "yes" saps me of all I have become, I know I need to say "no". 

Small steps, accepting and issuing easy invitations, choosing what I know I am capable of doing and inviting others to join me feels empowering.

My wings are fragile but they are becoming stronger with each invitation to come out and rejoin the world again.

Will I dance again? Maybe. Just not quite yet ...

Too Little, Too Late

I have spoke to a counsellor four times in my life. Each one of those times, I went once. Once was enough. I took one statement away from each one of those visits and life moved on.

I spoke to a counsellor when Dad moved to a care home where he lived out the remainder of his life. I have no idea what my side of the conversation was but I do remember her telling me to guide my actions based on what I would be able to live with after he was gone.

Thirty five years later, I believe I would have reacted differently. But I cannot go there. I was young and naive. I did my best.

My husband and I spoke to a counsellor after a particularly bad incident within our marriage. I remember little of the conversation. I do remember the counsellor asking why we would want to save this marriage.

Perhaps that is a blanket statement a marriage counsellor asks each couple they speak to, so the discussion focuses on the positive. The message I heard at the time was, "Walk away while you can ..." So (eventually), that is exactly what I did.

I was still young and naive, but by the time I walked away from my marriage for the third and final time, I was starting to get a little wiser.

The third counsellor I saw was while I was trying to work through a toxic work situation. The first 55 minutes of the session felt like they were straight out of Psychology 101. I was given strategies and tools that I already had and used. I graduated her elementary school of psychology with honors long before she did. I sat in her office feeling frustrated and like I wasn't being heard.

Finally, in the final five minutes of the session she heard what I was telling her. I was in a no win situation at work. I needed some tools to help me deal with my reality because I had no intention of quitting. In those final minutes she quickly told me to make notes, write down dates, times, incidents and all the details I may need to have so I could defend myself.

In the end, the job could not be saved. My boss' boss told me "I was hoping it would not come to this" when I offered this evidence to him.

I wished I had booked a dance lesson in lieu of my hour of therapy which was not enough to save my sanity AND my job. It took a very long time to recover from that blow.

Fast forward to yesterday. My fourth appointment with a counsellor.

I saw my doctor on January 16th. I knew I was slipping into something deep. I was coping but I asked for help.

I passed all cursory tests and was deemed good enough to call and ask to be put on a waiting list for counselling.

I waited almost three months before I called to ensure I was still on the list. I couldn't stop crying as I spoke to the person on the phone. She offered to fast track me through the wait list to someone who could talk to me before I made it to the regular counsellors. Except that person was on holidays.

Three more weeks of waiting ...

The snow melted during that time and the miraculous healing powers of sunshine, warmth and life beckoning at me to join in was enough to pull me up and out of where I was at. I haven't felt this normal for a very long time.

My appointment was yesterday.

Perhaps it is a little bit like taking a car to the mechanic when it is not presently making the noise you want the mechanic to fix. How do you offer to treat a person in a depressed and anxious state, when they appear to have snapped out of it? You don't.

I spoke of the cyclical nature of my moods and ability to cope. This has been a lifetime condition but I have managed to go from mountains and abysses, to hills and valleys. Except, this last time I fell longer, harder and deeper than I had been before. With one notable exception. I was comfortable there and didn't have the desire nor willpower to pull myself up and out.

I asked for a road map for the next time this may happen.

I was given a sheet of statements to read when I feel this encompass me again. Statements which I could have and may have already written myself.

I was told to see my doctor if I felt this coming. I did that.

I was told if this were to happen again, I would be put on the wait list. Again. But to tell them I needed to speak to someone before that, if I felt the need. I did that too.

I felt like I wasted my time and hers by going to talk to someone when I had already found a rope to hang onto and pull myself up and out of where I had been.

When I told her I felt that winter was a time I felt particularly vulnerable. She recommended I book a winter holiday.

Obviously, I didn't need help after all. As I told her my story, she said little. She seemed to recognize that I already had the tools she was about to offer me.

Maybe I should simply take up dancing again...

P.S. I have just realized that perhaps these "lessons I've learned through counselling" may be enough. More tomorrow...

Stop Thinking So Much!

I love to dance. I look back on my years of ballroom dancing fondly and don't regret a moment, nor a dollar, I spent on my most favorite sport in the world. The world of dance.

I learned to follow and I was shown how to lead but I am a follower at heart. So that is when I danced my "best".

When you invest that much time and money in something, your teacher will try to help you improve your skills by continuing to introduce new steps and technique into the mix. When learning a dance routine, the follower should know their part inside and out, with or without their partner. So you have to start concentrating. That is when I ran into trouble.

Some dance lessons were better than others. The lessons where I relaxed, had fun and just followed the lead of my instructor were filled with laughter and good hearted fun.

Then there were the ones where I was frustrated with myself because I couldn't learn or remember my part. I stopped running on autopilot and started thinking.

"You are thinking too much!" was my instructor's light hearted comment as he nudged me out of my head and into the moment and just let his lead, muscle memory and the beat of the music wash over me and let the dance flow.

Every time I started thinking too much, nothing came easy, it showed in my shoulders. They would inch up, I would stop breathing and everything tensed.

"Remember to breath" was another tip my instructor continued to tell me when he could feel my concentration levels take me out of the dance zone and into my head.

Breathe.

Keep your shoulders down.

Stop thinking so much.

Three simple lessons I learned from dancing. Three simple tips which work off the dance floor just as well.

I have been over thinking things an awful lot lately. Too much alone-time can do that to a person. Add that to the flaw in my personality that believes I am personally responsible for all that goes wrong for all those whose lives abut mine and it is a toxic mixture.

I am having a hard time making decisions that involve a second party at the moment.

Ask me to commit to something a week in advance and I shut down. Call me up and ask me to meet for coffee and I'm there. Setting up an appointment that requires two willing parties and me as mediator and I start sweating buckets. Suggest an elusive "maybe sometime next month" message and I'm all over that.

Commitments that fall on the days I normally mow the grass and wash my hair send me into a frenzy. Close all access by road to our home, so my Fence Guy cannot come fix my fence, and block me in so I can't make it to my blood donation appointment, and I am over the moon because I "have" to stay home and not share my evening with anyone else.

Tell me I have to make muffins and bring them, and a family photo to a reunion and I forget how to look up a recipe and think I need to get my family together to update our last family picture (from 2009). "This is too much work!!" my loud inner voice screams in my ear. And I shut down.

I do well when I don't have time to over-think. Set a date, a place and a time and I'll be there. Give me a day to make a batch of muffins and I'll have the job done within the hour.

"You are thinking too much!"

Yesterday morning, I woke up full of doubts over an upcoming trip. I checked into various options. Should I cancel or revise or find a substitute traveller? I polled the masses. Then I called the one who instilled the doubt in my mind to start with. And what was I told? "I think we should just go with 'Plan A' ".

What? It is that simple? Just do what we had planned all along?!

Yes, I am thinking too much. I will try to lower my shoulders, breathe deeply and just dance in the moment.

I'll let you know how it goes...

Life Lessons - What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

On August 6, 2009, I wrote this: "Giant Steps"

Oh, how my rose colored glasses saw my future. If only I knew then, what I know now...

A brief synopsis of my life between "then" and "now":

I took a bookkeeping course which I completed in just under a year. It was the best year of my life.

Going to school allowed me the flexibility to continue to take in before and after school children, work part time at a bookkeeping job from home, work my school commitments in and around my life and fill the extra time doing what I most loved to do.

I danced and I lived out my dreams in between all the cracks of my life back then. It was a wonderful and glorious time.

I completed my education and was ready, willing and able to take on my bookkeeping work in a full time capacity.

Long story short? That never really happened. Yes, I was able to continue to work out of my home for a while. That "while" was very good.

I continued to live a life where I filled in the gaps of my non-work-life doing what I most wanted to do. There was "Zumba", "Bellyfit", an Alaskan cruise and I could fit work into the cracks of "life".

Yes, I worked some weekends but when Mom came out for a visit, I was available to do and go places whenever we chose to do so. I was able to run out to Mom's when I needed and wanted to be there.

The pay cheque was not a full time one, and it was a struggle financially. But my work to personal life ratio was in perfect balance. It was still a pretty good place to be.

This could and would not last forever. I needed stability so I went in search of greener (and I mean the greenery that comes from a steady pay cheque) pastures.

Another long story short, you have to deal with a lot of "manure" to attain those green pastures. Many lessons were learned, minus the student loan. The financial struggle became more prevalent and eventually I ended up exactly where I started before this saga began.

I reopened my daycare almost three years ago and six years later, I am finally back on my feet again.

Those "Giant Steps" and that huge leap of faith came with a price tag of approximately $20,000.00 (I could do the math and quote an exact number but I'm running out of time). Add one student loan to a revolving mortgage where I had to borrow to meet expenses and it equals a number very close to that.

I am not only paying the bills again, but I am finally starting to whittle away at the debt I accumulated during my Time of Great Learning.

My bookkeeping education did not pay for itself but it has opened doors for me. Doors that equal a part time income that subsidizes my life and is starting to pay off my debt. Doors that may make all the difference in the world when I segue out of the daycare world some day. Doors that keep my brain from coming foggy and mushy. Doors where I get to "balance to zero" and have black and white answers to everything that comes my way.

I like numbers. They make sense. There is always a black and white answer. I like that about numbers.

Life is messy. There are so very many shades of gray. Answers don't come easily and when life resolves itself it is hard to understand why some things happen the way they do.

I am so very grateful that my hiatus from the daycare world provided me with options which are enhancing my life today and will help me out in the future. It isn't what I expected. But it is exactly what I needed.

I like a life filled with a good balance of "black and white" intermixed with a rainbow of other colors. I am grateful for the complications of "life". I know I need to see beyond balancing to zero.

I sing the lyrics "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" with great gusto. Because these past six years have made me much stronger than I was before all of this unfolded.

Life Without Andre

Monday feels like an assault to my senses this morning. I do not feel like jumping back into life as I knew it, like it was just any other day.

I know it is the only way. It is right and it is good.

I just miss my little black kitty. That's all.

His junior partner in cathood did his best version of snuggling up beside me before I crawled out of bed this morning. He even laid still while I petted him. In fact, he rolled over on his back so I could scratch his belly (I think he is part dog).

I'm still breathing in the cat hair he shed, but he helped me greet a day I didn't want to face.

Life goes on.

I have become so hermit-like lately I have forgotten what wonders lie outside of our doors.

I stepped in for a missing dance partner, at the dance studio where I used to take lessons, Friday night. Once I got over the shock and discomfort of being so far out of my element, I was amused and entertained by "people".

I am not too sure how long I've been wearing these blinders but I forgot how interesting it can be to meet up with new people.

It was hard. I couldn't wait to leave. But there were many moments of enjoyment while I stepped out of my comfortable life at home and into my most uncomfortable dance shoes.

I used to have so much fun while I was dancing that my feet didn't hurt until I took off my shoes and went home. Friday night, every single footfall hurt.

Every forward step hurt. It is so symbolic of how my heart, body and soul feel lately.

I do hope that this is part of a mourning process I have been walking through in the days, weeks and months when I realized our ailing senior cat's days were coming close to an end.

My heart is so tender right now. Perhaps that is why I don't enjoy facing the world outside of these protective walls of our home.

There is so much sadness, illness and loss out there. Inside our home, there have been so very many moments of pure joy and so much of that has been centered around our little cat family.

People are complicated. Cats are a tad bit mysterious too. It's just lately? I prefer the company of my little cat (and human) family over the great adventures that lie outside of these doors.

I guess I will have to peel back the layers and find my "inner Andre". My little black kitty, who could not wait to dash out of these doors to meet and greet the world around him, befriend enemies, make his way through the neighborhood and come home when he was good and ready, is a good role model.

I'm too scared to wander far. But maybe I should start gazing out the window and dreaming of some new adventures.

Maybe.

My Disney World Life

Thank you, Facebook. You saved me from myself once again.

I woke up feeling bluer than blue. Perhaps even bluer than navy. I felt black. I felt dark. I felt like there was a hole in my heart.

I thought "What in the world am I going to write about when I feel like this? I do not want to perpetuate this feeling!"

What you think about you bring about.

Your thoughts become your words .

I needed to climb off this train headed no where and jump onto the back of a steed headed somewhere.

I made my morning smoothie and cup of coffee. I sat down in front of the computer thinking dreary thoughts.  "What am I going to read this morning?" (most of the blog authors I read do not post on the weekends).

I turned to Facebook with little hope of finding anything new there either because I had read it late last night when I finally sat down to eat my supper around 11:00 p.m.

Then I found a quiz that intrigued me. "Which Disney Mom Are You Most Like?"

I was disheartened when the questions were too black and white. I'm a middle-of-the-road kind of girl. Having to choose black OR white, I had little hope this silly little quiz (I am deluded to believe these quizzes have true validity) would capture my essence. 

This was my result. Other than the last sentence, I think it captures the-mother-in-me pretty good:

A gracious mother with a calm exterior and a fierce spirit, you are most like Sarabi of "The Lion King!" You are no stranger to tragedy, and have rebuilt yourself from the ground up at least once in your life - making you all the stronger. By birth, you are tough, honest, and extremely protective - a fierce guardian of any loved ones, but mostly your own cubs. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" - and you would put yourself through hell and back for your family, and never ask a single thing in return... Which kind of makes you a saint - so show this to your children the next time they do something stupid!

I needed to reroute my thoughts this morning. I woke up feeling absolutely lost. And this Disney Mom comparison reminded me of who I am (not who I hope to be).

I sat down smack dab in the middle of my most favorite world last night. And I didn't belong there. Was it because I forgot to bring my 'glass slippers'? Was it because I was sitting three chairs away from my Happily Ever After? 

I felt like Cinderella after her step sisters destroyed the beautiful gown that Cinderella and her forest friends had created. I felt tattered and torn. And my Fairy Godmother did not cast a spell upon me which lasted until midnight. 

I went as I was, bad haircut and all.

I sat and I dreamed of the days I enjoyed basking in the energy, the fun and feeling like a part of a whole.

I miss my dancing days. But I just don't know if I can picture myself returning to them either.

It was as if my dream bubble popped last night. "You don't fit here any more" is what I felt. It was NOT my reality though. I sat among people I knew. I felt a kinship with those I had attended so many dance functions with. I was in a place where a lot of people knew my name...

Except I didn't feel like I was living up to the name I had 'created' within those dancing walls. I felt like a shadow of who I used to be. A shadow with bad hair, comfy shoes and an outfit which screamed DON'T LOOK AT ME!! 

If I could have vanished into thin air, I would have. 

I was so disappointed in myself. I created all of those feelings within my little brain all by myself. I did not have the assistance of anyone else. 

I exited quietly long before midnight. I didn't race down the stairs and loose a glass slipper. My comfy Doctor Scholl's shoes took me from "A" to "B". 

It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a fairy tale. It was real life. And I failed. 

I woke up this morning feeling lost and forlorn and extremely 'navy'.

Then I took that Facebook Quiz and it reminded me who I am. Who I have been. Who I will always be. 

My role of Sarabi is a part of my life story. The mother of 'lion cubs'. I am more than a mother. But being a mom has always grounded me and helped me make the best decisions when the chips were down. 

It may be time to reexamine what else I want to do with my life. But as I head off tomorrow, to spend the next three days nestled in among my family and my First Born Son, I will be reminded of the other starring roles I have in my life. Daughter and Sister. 

I think I just need to be with my family right now. Maybe the dancing dreams will return one day. Just not today ...

Slow Dancing (for now)

Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night ... ("I've Got a Feeling") was the song playing on the radio this morning when I was finally ready to accept my fate and greet the day ahead.

This was the 'theme song' they played at a dance competition I attended five short years ago. Every time some big award was given out, they would play the chorus of this song:

"I gotta feeling (oooooo hoooo) that tonight's gonna be a good night 

That tonight's gonna be a good night 

That tonight's gonna be a good good night"

The Black Eyed Peas

My heart started to beat to the tempo of this song. I sat back and marvelled at those receiving awards and thought of how the memory of the evening would replay each and every time they heard that chorus. 

It was akin to the emotion I used to feel watching beauty pageants in my youth. I could put myself in their shoes and feel the tide of emotion sweep over me. 

For years (and years) every single time I heard that theme song, I was transported back in time. Back to that competition. Back to the euphoria. Back to the moments of excitement I felt during that Cinderella-at-the-ball weekend.

The song brought back a feeling of happiness, dreams-come-true and pure and utter joy.

I laid in bed this morning and heard that very same song.

I tried to muster the joy I felt when that song first walked into my life. It was as if I was watching the highlight reel of someone else's life. 

I was a different person back then.

I have changed and evolved and grown. I like a lot of the changes. I miss the passion I felt during those glory days though.

I am grateful my life isn't one big Dance Competition.

It took a lot of energy to primp and prepare for those two days of glitz. Fake tan, eyelash extensions, gel finger and toenails, crazy hair color, new hair style, costumes, evening wear, make-up and jewelry. It was fun while it lasted but it took a lot of energy to maintain the aura of 'a dancer'.

Oh, my dancing days.

It was a good run. It was a very good run! I loved every moment of it. Until I didn't.

What has changed? In a nutshell? Me.

I care more about what I look like on the 'inside' than on the 'outside'. 

I have more fun dancing like no one is watching, than worrying about the intricacies of technique and perfection because everyone is watching.

The sad part is - I don't dance anymore. No where. 

I don't dance in the kitchen like I used to. I don't go to dances. I miss the social interaction and the movement to music while surrounded with a group of people who share that passion.

It is less about the dance and more about the passion. 

I miss that girl. But I'm glad I once knew and embodied her. 

The day will come when the lyrics "Tonight's gonna be a good night..." will make my heart sing again.

Just not this morning. Just not today.

Life's ebbs and flows. I am not going to fight it. I'm just feeling what I'm feeling for as long as I need to feel it. I have the feeling if I fight it, it is going to come back and overwhelm me.

I don't feel like dancing right now. But I will. I know I will. I loved it too much not to fall back in love with it again.

In the interim, I'm just slow-dancing through the days.

Written Feb 15, 2010:

Coming Home

All good things must come to an end. So it is, with the Great Dance Adventure of 2010.

What lies on the horizon? Who knows. If someone would have told me I would have had this opportunity a year ago, I wouldn't have believed them. That fact alone makes me believe that absolutely anything is possible.

Life isn't full of grand adventures ... it is defined by how we walk through our daily routines.

The gift, is to find adventure in everything you do. Make each day the best day of your life-so-far. Every single morning, we awake to endless possibilities. Sure, they aren't all fun and games ... but even a bad day is a day to be conquered. Like climbing a mountain. You can only appreciate the view as you near the top. The view is fleeting ... the struggle is what builds your character and lasts forever.

Yes, this Dance Event has come and gone. The moment was fleeting, in the whole scheme of things. What will I remember? The challenge, the struggles, the fun, the adventure, the novelty, the people ...

Throughout this voyage, I have heard so much from so many. Encouragement, advise, support and friendship. When all of the memories fade, as memories do ... I will hold onto the words, the friends and the people who have made this such a Memorable Time in My Life.

I'm headed home as I write this ... back to earth and back to the reality that is my life. It's a good life - a life that I'm thrilled is awaiting my return. What if I didn't have that? An everyday-life that I savor, surrounded with people that inspire and fuel me. There is no Grand Adventure in the world, that could make up for not having what I've had all along.

I have a most wonderful life. I have fulfilled a most amazing dream. I am ready to put my feet back on the ground and go forward from here.

As always ... it feels good to be coming home.

Dance Like Cyndi Lauper

I had the privilege of getting to see Cyndi Lauper as an added bonus to Cher's concert the other night.

I am not as familiar with Cyndi, as I am with Cher but she definitely has a list of tunes that are part of my music history and I could feel the tug of old memories surfacing right along with her act.

Cyndi is not as flamboyant as Cher. In fact, from where we sat, we could barely see her during her first song, where she wore a black hooded cloak, where only the fringes of her brilliant, long red hair peeked out.

Thankfully, she put her hood down and (for those of us who were sitting facing her back) we finally could see her. Her costume changes involved removing one cloak and putting on another over-the-top accessory as she sang and eventually she changed that into a rather cool looking jacket. She wore (what looked like) sparkly jeans and combat boots.

Then as she moved into the songs that made her want to dance, she danced.

Not the choreographed, fine tuned and well rehearsed dancing that resembles a Dancing With the Stars ensemble. She simply danced.

You could feel the music seep into her soul and come out in her movement. At times, she simply spun in a circle. At other times, every ounce of her body was moving to the beat of the music.

I looked at her and I was immediately taken back to my High School Reunion when the music seeped inside of my bones and took over. I danced like no one was watching. The music recreated me from the inside, out. I felt more of the music and less of the ugly. The music gave me courage. The courageous me started to emerge. The part of me that has always been there broke out of the paralysis that had overtaken the fifteen year old me. And I danced.

I watched Cyndi Lauper and related to what she was feeling in that moment. Just the music ... her and the music were one.

At the end of her set, someone from the audience yelled out, "Happy Birthday, Cyndi!!" and she told us that she was turning 61 years old the next day.

Sixty one years old and she is still dancing like an energetic teen.

I want to be Cyndi Lauper when I grow up!

Dancing My Way Back Into Living

Last night, I attended a group dance class. I was the 'new girl' in the class. Everyone else was familiar with each other and I was the one that didn't belong.

I was the quiet one in the corner (actually, I was standing against a wall) ... but I was not ignored.

Suddenly I was reminded that this is what was so magical to me, about the dance studio.

I started dancing about sixteen years ago. I was immediately invited to join the group classes.

It was daunting to me at the time. I saw the interactions of the group around me and I longed to belong. I stood quietly on the sidelines and I was invited to become part of the whole.

People were wonderful to me. And to each other. As weeks progressed into months and the months into years, I felt a sense of belonging.

As time went on, I was no longer the quiet one. I was one who approached the new person.

A person does not tend to forget how it feels to be on the outside, looking in. Life has a way of presenting itself in a fashion where you can give back, what you have once received. It felt good to be invited into the dance community within this studio. It felt even better to be on the giving end of that cycle.

I fell out of the dance world in a quiet, unremarkable way. I gradually stopped going to group classes. Eventually I even dropped out of my private lessons. But I will never forget the magic that I found within those studio walls.

When I was asked to join this particular group class last night, I did not have a moment of hesitation. "Of course, I could come!"

The only moment of stress arrived when I realized that I had to dress for the occasion and my wardrobe feels slightly lacking these days. And I was having a bit of a bad hair day.

I did the best, with what I had and I walked up the stairs to the studio. I had not even walked through the studio doors, when I struck up a conversation with the stranger-who-would-be-my-dance-partner for the evening. And I forgot everything else in the world.

I walked through the doors and found my way through the evening. It was easy. And it was good. It was only upon reflection, that I saw the cycle that started to repeat...

Suddenly, I was on the receiving end again. I felt safe. I felt good. I was back in a world that has brought me nothing but joy.

The good news? Is that I have been invited to go back. And I will. It felt good to hop back into that community of comfort and joy.

The magical allure of dancing has once again brought me back to a place I enjoy. Maybe I need to dance my way back into living ...

To Dance or Not to Dance

I was out and about running errands last night and I found my way over to a friend's house to drop off a book.

It was a completely out-of-the-ordinary task that put me in a place that I have been only twice before. And while I was there, she received a phone call from someone who had just called my home and left a message for me. He then proceeded to call my friend and found both of us at the same place, at the same time when he wanted to speak with each of us. 

To offer full disclosure on the above mentioned coincidence, all three of us are connected by the dance studio. So it is not a completely random set of events. But still. One person calls two others offering a random act of kindness and finds both parties at the other end of the phone line. Pretty serendipitous, would you not say?

The offer is one of 'Technique Dance Classes'. Ten lessons in ten weeks (I missed the first one last night because I was running out and about). What to do? What to do?

The fact that this gift has been bestowed upon me should have me kissing the ground and praising the Gods and being ever-so-grateful.

The reality is that I am not too hung up on the intricacies of of dancing. I simply want to dance. Dance like no one is watching. Moving to the music and swaying to the beat and just following my own heartbeat. I don't really care about the technique aspect.

The other fact is that my feet ache when I think of one solid hour of technique class in my dance shoes. Granted, I have some jazz dance shoes that I could wear for the occasion but my feet still hurt when I think of dancing and learning. Dancing and having fun is a whole different matter. It is pain with a purpose. 

The saddest part of all is the fact that I do not want to pry myself out of the house once a week. I love my quiet after-daycare-hours at home. I live for them. I sleep through them.

And this last fact is the one that makes me think that I really need to do this. I need to pry myself away from solitude, sleep and 'easy'. I need to start to surround myself with people, activity and challenge. I may prefer to be in a Zumba class but maybe this is a good place to start. Within an environment that brings out my inner happy and around people that I enjoy doing something that I do love to do. 

To dance or not to dance? That is the question. The answer would be so easy if it was 'just' dancing. I am still pondering that question as my daycare day must begin ...

I'm in Love ... (a little about the Favorite Men in my life)

I turned on my most favorite music first thing yesterday morning and it set the tone for the day. I highly recommend clicking on this link and pressing 'play' - Jeffery Straker is my second newest Favorite Man (after my New Hairstylist, of course).

My Daycare Family was not quite as enamored with my choice of music (we are a little bit hooked on Patty Shukla at the moment) but it made me happy and I don't think that they had a problem with a Happy Me.

'Birchbark Canoe' is a dreamy waltz and the song seeped deep into my soul and my heart started beating to the beat of the music. I picked up my little one-year-old (who am I kidding? I was probably holding him anyway) and we danced...

We danced around the toys in the living room. We danced up and down the hallway. We pivoted and swirled. I taught him 'dance position' and we rose and fell to the heartbeat of the music that enveloped my soul. It was heavenly ...

The other kids noticed what was going on and my girls started moving and swaying to the music along with us. I noticed my little two-year-old mimicking the 'rise and fall' (that apparently I did without thinking) of the waltz.

Music changes the mood within a room. When it seeps into the soul of who you are, music has the ability to transform you. I was very much in need of a transformation. Thank you, Jeffery Straker!

I picked up the phone before I had a chance to talk myself out of it (or simply forget) and I booked myself a dance lesson. As luck would have it, there was an opening last night. Perfect! Hot on the tail of a new hair style and at the end of a Daycare Day that did not have me pulling said hair out of my head.

Immediately after making that call, I went to Jeffrey's website and bought/downloaded his newest CD and Christmas single. Ahhh!! If I wasn't in heaven before, I was reaching new heights. I burnt a CD and would bring a little piece of heaven with me as I drove to my lesson (and perhaps bring it into the studio with me so we could dance to the soundtrack that was the backdrop to my day).

Best laid plans sometimes go awry. Especially when tending to about nine other things at the same time. The burning process did not happen and I had nothing but a virgin CD to accompany me on my way to my lesson.

Have no fear, the dance studio's owner has also discovered this amazing talent so we could still dance to the beat of Jeffery Straker. But really ... with the amazing talent, personality and charisma of my Dance Instructor, we could probably dance to 'The Wheels on the Bus' (my exposure to music is highly affected by my one to four year old crowd) and have just as much fun. Yes. Another Favorite Man in my life ...

It has felt a small bit wonderful to pull my thoughts out of the challenges of my Daycare Day  and tend to that-which-fuels-my soul.

A Hair Stylist that made me laugh like I have not laughed in a very long time ... led to a haircut that (I believe) I can live with. A day with Jeffery Straker filled my heart and soul ... led to an evening of dance and movement with my Dance Instructor that filled up the remaining nooks and crannies.

"There is an Indian Belief that everyone is in a house of four rooms: A physical, a mental, an emotional and a spiritual. Most of us tend to live in one room most of the time, but unless we go into every room everyday, even if only to keep it aired, we are not complete."

~ Rumer Godden

I spent time in each of my four rooms within the past 24 hour period and I feel fulfilled, happy and content. I wish you a day of good housekeeping. Turn on some music that makes you 'feel'. Sing, dance and go where the music takes you. I think you will be glad that you did. 

Here is a suggestion from my little bag of tricks. It is a rerun of an earlier recommendation but it is a music video that brings me a little bit of happy into the Christmas season:

P.S. Side note to the other 'three favorite' men in my life (ahem ... My Three Sons). Nothing personal. But just for today, you have been upstaged. Perhaps each of you could change your career aspirations to include Hair Stylist; Singer/songwriter/piano player; and Dance Instructor, and this blog could be about you!

I Am the One Who is Going to Change That!

A sound bite from a conversation that I had with a relative last weekend:

Her: "So are you still dancing?"
Me: "I have one more lesson left ..." (inaudible sigh)
Her: (perplexed expression)... "You are still taking lessons? Haven't you learned enough? ... Are you going for 'Dancing With the Stars' or what?"
Me: "Dance lessons are the only way I get to dance ... I don't have a dance partner, so I have to pay someone to dance with me."
Her: "Well! We are just going to have to change that!!"

That conversation sparked something within me. I'm done. I'm finished taking lessons. I'm over the concept of paying someone to dance with me.

As I made my way towards the exit of the dance studio after my lesson last night, I had conversations with my instructor as well as the owner of the studio. When they asked/assumed that I would be finding my way back one more time, I said "This time feels different ...".

"Why? What is different?"

What is different? My knee-jerk response is the truth. I have a life now.

When I started dancing, I didn't have a social life. At all. A big night out on the town for me, consisted of going to a dentist appointment. Because it was the only time that I got to leave the house without a child in tow. Now that My Youngest is fifteen years old, my out-of-the-house adventures are childless pretty much 100% of the time (especially since my fifteen year old feels like anything but 'a child' any more).

When I started dancing, I was a bit of a recluse. I didn't have a lot of friendships that took me out of the confines of my safety zones. The friendships that I had, welcomed my children as readily as they accepted me. My dependent children were welcome wherever I went, so this takes me back to the excitement that I felt when I got to go see my dentist. Alone!

When I started dancing, I hadn't fully discovered family outside of my siblings and my mom. Big family gatherings? I panicked at the mere thought of them because I thought, "Who do I know? Does anyone even really know who I am?" It turns out I know most everyone ... and everyone knows me too. I have immersed myself in family and I have found acceptance, encouragement and friendship within.

I have been invited to join this adventure called life. I have more friendships than I feel that I can adequately 'nourish'. My time feels far too committed. I thrive on solitude and quiet ... and my world has become too noisy. I simply don't have the energy to dance any more ...

I walked into that dance studio almost sixteen years ago. My world was crashing down around me and I walked into this utopia called 'Dance Dynamics'. And I danced. I found joy, acceptance and friendship. I was enveloped in a safe world where everyone was there for the same reason I was. To dance.

I was broken. Then I started to heal. My wings got stronger and I tried to fly ...

I fell out of the nest a few times but was always welcome to come back and learn to fly again. Always. My self esteem took a few harsh blows in the world outside of the dance studio, but within those doors I was safe. I was protected. And I learned to fly. Again ...

Well? I feel confident to fly on my own now. It was worth every penny and every moment that it took to get from 'there' to 'here'. Sixteen years. And I am flying solo.

I may not be soaring with the eagles, but I'm frolicking with the robins and having fun within the world that I have created.

I may not be dancing with the stars but I do hope that one day ... one day ... that someone will ask me to dance again. Not because it is their job. Not because we are within the confines of a safe-place where all that we do is dance. Not out of pity. I want to be asked to dance again simply because someone wants to dance. With me. I am ready.

Thank you 'Dance Dynamics'. You gave me that gift. I can dance. Now I am ready to try it out in the real world ...

My (delayed) response to my cousin that sparked this internal conversation?
Me: "No ... I am the one who is going to have to change that!"

What I Have Learned From Dancing

I had a dance lesson last night. It was the second last lesson of a group of lessons that I have bought and paid for. I have one dance lesson left ...

I am afraid that this may be the end. I have stopped and restarted my ballroom dance lessons several times over the past sixteen years. But this time feels different. I don't know if I'll be back.

I was so relieved to step out onto the dance floor and rekindle my love affair with dancing last night! My body knew what it was doing and my brain just relaxed and went with the flow of the music and the lead of my dance instructor. We laughed. I learned a little. But mostly? We laughed. This ... is what hooked me in the first place. The fun factor!

The reality is that dance lessons are expensive. Ballroom dancing is a sport and you can go far with what you learn. If that is what you want to do. I competed. Once. Competition is not for me. But I am glad that I tried. It was worth every moment and penny spent on taking part in that dance competition. But I just want to have fun. Private dance lessons are a pretty expensive way to bring a half hour of joyfulness into my week.

For the past few years, I have wandered in and out of the dance studio. I changed career directions a few times and my finances have been turned inside out and backwards. I still found myself returning to the dance studio. But since I bought that last set of lessons, part of my passion has died. I'm not sure why. I think it has something to do with wanting to build a fence (i.e. tend to the upkeep and maintenance of home ownership) and refortifying my contentment within my own life and home.

I was so glad to find that piece of happiness on the dance floor last night. It was good to be reminded of all that has kept me going back for more (dancing) since 1997. Sixteen years.

I've learned a lot over the course of those sixteen years. Here are just a few of the lessons I have learned from dancing:

• I have learned to follow. Not only to follow … but to relax and trust the person who is leading. Oh, to be in an environment where blind trust is encouraged and required? It is a good lesson in life, to learn to trust and follow the direction of another human being.
• I have learned to relax and stop thinking so much. Over-thinking confuses the body’s ability to just go with the flow of things. Life? Dancing? It is all best lived by not thinking so hard!
• I have learned there are no such things as mistakes. “Different perhaps … but not a mistake”, is a quote from my dance instructor. As it is in life-outside-the-dance-studio. Lessons are learned each and every time we do something ‘differently’ than we first intended. Different may lead to better than you originally anticipated. Just don’t be afraid to try!
• I have learned that there is no such thing as perfect. Perfection is an illusion. It isn’t real. To attain to be perfect is to limit yourself to only that which you think that you can do well. Forget about being perfect. Just be the best you can be and the possibilities are endless.
• I have learned to go where the music takes me. There is nothing better than when the beat of a song gets under your skin and you can’t help but move to it. Dancing or just plain living life … follow the beat of the music in your soul. It will take you places beyond your wildest dreams.
• I have learned that my muscles have memory! Repetition teaches your body what it needs to do so that before long, you can work on autopilot. Sometimes this is a good thing. Other times? Consider your options. Just because it is something you have always done, doesn’t mean that there aren’t better alternatives.
• I have learned that learning has no end. The learning ends only when you put a stop to it. How (and whether) you continue to learn is a personal choice. There are endless ways to build on the basics. What it all boils down to is: Practice! Practice! Practice!! Practice what you want to learn and you may be amazed at what you can achieve.
• I have learned that dance is an art form. You start with a basic step. You add a pattern. You add some technique. Then you add our own special flavor and personality and it becomes your own unique art form. Season your life with that which turns the mundane into a piece of work!
• I have learned to take the lead sometimes. Yes, it is uncomfortable and unfamiliar. But it can be done. Taking control of your own destiny – whether it is on the dance floor or in real life is empowering (and teaches great respect for those who do it with such ease).

Knowing when to lead and when to follow. It is a delicate balance sometimes. In my independent life, I must take the lead far more than I wish was necessary. Perhaps that is part of the allure of dancing. To just take a step back and trust in someone else's lead. It is a beautiful place to be. Sometimes.

Perhaps I am not finished with dancing just quite yet.

Inhale the Day ... Then Dance the Night Away

I am concentrating on 'inhaling the day' today.

I have a dance lesson at the day's end so I have a treasure at the end of today's rainbow. I wish that my passion and excitement for my lesson equalled (even half) of what I used to feel.

The dance studio has been my 'Cheers' for many, many years. A place where 'everybody knows my name. A place where I walk in, forget the life that I lead outside of those doors and co mingle with a group of people who are there for the love of dance.

Oh, how much fun it was! Laughter came easily (it still does). The music played and we learned new steps, techniques and patterns and our bodies moved to the tempo of the music (we still do).

What has changed?

The male to female ratio is one that can never be predicted. There have been times where there are more men than women. Other times there is a partner of the opposite sex for everyone. It is the overwhelming number of times where the females outnumbered the males by far, that resonate within me. I don't mind learning the lead. In fact I appreciate the lessons learned in understanding the challenges that the 'lead' is contending with. But honestly? I would rather follow. It is my nature. I love that the sport of dancing has naturally put me in a position I am comfortable with. Following another person's lead.

Then there is the lack of goal-setting. I can't begin to imagine how frustrating this must be as an instructor. How do you plan a lesson when there is no real end goal in sight? We used to have dance showcases every year. Interest has dwindled and (I believe) they lost money when they held the last showcase. Even if they did put on another showcase, I am not in a financial position to participate...

I competed in one dance competition. There was no shortage of goals there! It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I savored every moment of the preparation, the trip, the actual competition and the camaraderie among the group from our studio that attended. But I do not have a competitive nature. My competitions are internal. I am my own harshest judge. I don't need medallions or ratings to know where I stand. There is always room for improvement but my biggest measure of success is in how much fun that I have had.

My private lessons are always fun-filled. My instructor intuitively steers his lessons towards the nature of his students. Some of us are there for the fun-factor. Sometimes there is a dose of 'therapy' that is worked into that half hour lesson. I feel safe, capable of learning, free to make mistakes and laugh along the way.

Dancing has enhanced my self esteem a thousandfold. I have enjoyed so many years within those studio walls. I walk in and check my troubles at the door. It is never a conscious decision. It simply happens. I have become the princess at the ball time and time again. Participating in showcases gives a girl an excuse to primp, accessorize and wear a ball gown. It has been a young girl's fantasy come true. Time and time again.

I hope that this is not the end of dancing for me. I see another dance hiatus around the next corner but I hope that is not the end of an era. I want to find my passion again. I lost it these past few years. I haven't been able to find it on the dance floor. I am finding it elsewhere.

I am (perhaps) spread too thin in some areas of my life. I'm working to regain the balance that spells contentment. It is coming. I feel it. I am breathing in the world and I am feeling revived. My oxygen levels must have been lower than I realized because it is taking longer than I thought it would, to regain my equilibrium again.

I am going to breathe in the day today. So that when I walk into the dance studio tonight, I will not only leave my troubles at the door ... perhaps I will bring in a breath of fresh air with me.

"Great dancers are not great because of their technique; they are great because of their passion." 

~ Martha Graham

Rolling Along With Life

Life got a little too serious around here this past while. My head has been full of reflective thoughts and there are more where that came from. But I need to back off for a day and just write ...

My daycare week has been the best! There is no school for the kids this week, which meant I had a 5 year old boy and his 8 year old sister here during the school break. Add two 1-1/2 year old girls; one, 2-1/2 year old boy and you've got a winning combination. There is fun and laughter and activity. But best of all?? There is dancing! I knew something good was happening when this young girl started singing and dancing to some of the songs we really enjoy around here. She has really heightened our dance craze at daycare. It is fun to add music, singing and dancing to a day. Try it sometime. I think you'll like it!!

I found shoes!! Not only shoes that I can dance in ... but shoes that I can wear around the house and they are more comfortable than my bare feet! Yes! More comfortable!! Because I can't wear my orthotics when I don't have shoes on. They are jazz shoes. They are one size bigger than I normally buy; wide in size and they are made out of a pliable leather that is heavenly. And I will be able to dance in them!! Yee haw! Not only that, but if you have tender toes, you should go to store that specializes in all types dancing shoes. The girl that helped me out was full of ideas and suggestions for my bunion and corn, because they run into this all of the time with people who wear ballet 'pointe' shoes. I came home with some 'spacers' which will ease the tenderness where my corns were shaved off last week. My feet are jumping with joy - they feel so good!

Two evenings in a row, all of my daycare kids were picked up before 5:00!! This was a gift that was worth more than money. My glasses broke first thing yesterday morning. I called the place I purchased them to find out the hours, only to find out they closed at 5:30. So ... I was going to have to wait until Saturday to take my glasses in. But thanks to my early pick-ups, I made it there not only before they closed ... but just two days before my one year warranty on my glasses was up. One would hope that they would have waived the rules, if I had made it one day late ... but I will not have to wonder. Because I made it two days before the guarantee expired. My frames will be replaced at no cost and I am very, very pleased about that.

I cancelled the next few weeks of dance lessons, to give my feet a rest. Plus I thought that I would need to wait two to three weeks for my dance shoes to arrive. As it turns out, they had a different color in stock and (because my work day ended so early) I could have made it to class. But I had already cancelled it, so I simply enjoyed the night off. And it felt heavenly. The long weekend was a busy one. I was utterly exhausted on Monday. All I remember about Tuesday night is waking up at 6 p.m. to phone Mom because I knew the rest of the week was accounted for. Wednesday and Friday are committed to flyers. So I honestly feel like I'm playing hooky tonight. It is a 'forbidden' night off. And it feels fantastic.

I may be crazy-busy this upcoming weekend but I just don't want to know about it. Not yet. I told my friend that I could clean her house Saturday mornings. It is very likely that I will have to work at my bookkeeping job this weekend. Then there are those blasted flyers. Oh ... when I get rich and famous, the first thing that is going to go is those flyers. Then again, delivering those flyers is the only exercise I get so I should not be so hasty in wanting them to vanish from my life. Then again, if I was rich and famous, I could hire a personal trainer and it would all work out in the wash.

The best news of all is that I am 'back'. I am rolling with life. The good, the bad and the ugly (my new shoes are sort of ugly). I'm coping. Life felt 'dark'. Very, very dark ... a while ago. I shed some light on the darkness and it quietly went away. No fuss, no muss, no fanfare. Just the way the darkness rolled in ... it rolled out again.

The sun is shining longer every day. Spring is on the horizon. I am busy. I am challenged. I am working. I am not only surviving ... I am starting to thrive once again. It's coming. I can feel it in the air.

There is so much more, that is much deeper than today's inane drivel of words. The world is full of sadness, illness, despair and darkness. I am grateful that my own world is full of light, dancing, comfy shoes and glasses that are smart enough to break before the warranty expires.

Who knows how close we come to those cut-off dates in life? It is nice to 'win' one, every now and again. We are ever conscious of the losses ... but do we really have any idea how many times we have 'won' and not even been aware??

Score One for Zumba

Well? The verdict is in. And ballroom dance shoes are out.

I went to visit my podiatrist last night to find out the answer to my recent foot problems. I knew the answers before I heard them. In fact, I spoon fed them to my foot-specialist.

My feet have been smiling ever since I got my orthotics. From the moment I first wore them, it was love at first sight. It was as if my feet had been waiting their entire life for the shoe inserts of their dreams.

There was no weaning in process necessary. I was conscious of the fact that there could be side effects as my feet got used to them. But there wasn't an inkling of anything but perfection. Right from the moment 'go'.

I used and abused my feet this past summer. I worked in a grocery store where I was moving and on my feet for the entirety of my shift. I chose not to take breaks. There were days when I was on my feet for eight to ten hours. Did my feet complain? Only when I took off my shoes and tried to walk barefoot in the house at the end of my workday. My feet missed their 'support system' - my orthotics.

I started delivering flyers in the fall. I walk approximately 1.5 hours, three days a week. I walk in all conditions. Various terrains. Cement all the way. Do my feet complain? Not until lately ...

I resumed ballroom dancing in January. One lesson in, my feet were not happy campers. Not even when I put them to rest and went to bed. The next day was not a lot better.

Second lesson? Swivels and a Tango class were pure torture. I endured the classes only because there was a severe shortage of women that night. My feet have not yet recovered ...

Did I give up? No way. I went to two more dance classes. I developed corns that made delivering flyers painful. Two hours of dancing in one week became something that (not only the remaining 22 hours of that day ... but) the six days that followed could not repair.

• My 'perscription' after last night's appointment? Wear my orthotics as much as possible. Not only outdoors, but inside. All day. Every day.
• Dance shoes with a heal that absolutely does not exceed 1.5"; preferably 1"

He shaved off my newly acquired corns & callouses, bandaged up my tender toe and sent me on my way. 

The good news? Two hours per week in ballroom dance shoes did not undo the benefits that my orthotics have reaped. He was more than a little pleased with the progress of my bunions and the 'angles' he was aiming to fix with my orthotics. But it is not enough to compensate for the excessive demands that my ballroom dance shoes place upon my tender, tender toes.

So now what? I have eight more dance classes bought and paid for. The only way to fully reap the benefits of those lessons is to find shoes that I can dance in. But do I go to the expense of trying to find the perfect dance shoe for me ... only to discover that I cannot afford the high cost of dancing?

Score "one" for Zumba. I have running shoes that work. I have tried and true evidence that my feet can withstand hours of wear and tear and endurance ... as long as they are safe in the confines of a running shoe that can accomodate my orthotics.

Four hours of dance lessons anyone??

Sore Feet, Happy Heart

Oh ... my achin' feet!

I haven't complained much (at all!) about my feet since my miracle foot doctor designed the most awesome orthotics for me last spring. I have felt as though I was walking on air. Well, perhaps that is a bit of an overstatement. But my feet have been more than a little bit happy since this wonderful invention specially designed for my tender tootsies.

Then I started dancing again.

I am not certain that the two are related, but foot pain while I was delivering flyers started very close to the time I resumed my dance lessons. Perhaps my orthotics reached their prime at the same time and need to be adjusted. But the way my feet feel this morning (after two hours in my dance shoes last night)? I am thinking that the dancing is a big part of the issue.

Dancing verses staying at home. Moving verses the hypnotic state I go into in front of the TV. Laughter and spending an evening with people verses the solitude that I so enjoy. Happy heart verses complacent one.

Orthotics for ballroom dance shoes. In my experience, pretty shoes and orthotics do not go together. In fact, I feel about 90 years old when I talk about 'my orthotics'. It just sounds like a word that belongs in an old-person's vocabulary. Spoiler alert! Who the heck do I think I am?? Just look in a mirror, girl! You aren't getting any younger! Plus, age has nothing to do with a person's need for orthotics. I probably should have had them decades ago.

I am one-third of the way through the dance lessons that I have bought and paid for. I have no idea if I will be able to afford to continue at the end of this batch of lessons.

I quit participating in Zumba classes because of my feet. Knowing now, what I didn't know then ... I should have found a way to fix my feet and keep active. Orthotics work in running shoes far better than in ballroom dance shoes. To anyone living outside of my body, the answer seems obvious ...

... but to me? It is the entire dance experience and social aspect in the safety and comfort of a dance studio that I have been going to (off and on) for fifteen years that has my head in the clouds and hoping to find a way to make dancing comfortable (as well as fun).

Practicality verses reality. I have running shoes that work. I have dance shoes that ... don't.

I wonder if they design orthotics to assist a person in walking outside of their comfort zone??

Then I Danced

I went dancing tonight. And it was good.

I laughed like I used to laugh. I walked through the door and left my crappy day outside. I forgot the minor frustrations of the day. Because I danced. And I laughed. And it was good. Oh, so good.

I danced. And it was good.

It has been a very, very long time since I have said those words. It felt good to be back ...