Loving my instrument

If I have learned anything in the past couple of years during my mid-life crisis and cathartic rebirth of my soul, learning to let go is one of them.  If you've been with me through this process then you've witnessed my various phases of grief and internal retrospective journey.  I have learned to let go of a lot of things by writing them here in this blog.  Letting them float out into the Nethers of cyberspace.  The release is therapeutic and hopefully has helped others in their own personal journeys.  So here I go, I'm going to release another...

I am fat.  No doubt about it.  I am 65 pounds heavier now than I was when I first got pregnant with my first child.  When I was pregnant with her, I developed Toxemia which is a fatal condition relating to toxins being held in the body that can affect both the child and the mother.  I gained 65 pounds while pregnant with her, even though she only weighed 5 pounds at birth.  Within one week of having her I lost 30 pounds of fluid that seemed to just pour out of me.  While breastfeeding and regaining my active dancer lifestyle I lost all but 10 pounds of the "baby" weight.  I felt like I could still have a place in both worlds; dancer and mother.

Then I tore my ACL.  It severely affected how I could move.  When trying to schedule surgery to repair the damaged ligament, I found out I was pregnant and had to put it on hold.  My second pregnancy went much smoother and I only gained 40 pounds.  But no matter what diet I was on, I could only lose 25 pounds; which now put me twenty five pounds over my original dancer weight.  I had the knee surgery thinking that now I would bounce back and be able to be the dancer again.  Sadly, no one can really explain how long it takes to recover from a ligament reconstruction until you experience it for yourself.  It took a full year until my knee felt normal again....and I had gained another 10 pounds.  Oh, and I forgot to mention that I had those two children by cesarean, so their went my core strength as well. I definitely felt like the war-wounded veteran.

I dieted and starved myself, hating my new body. You really don't understand the difference people make on how they treat "beautiful" people and how they treat other people until you become one of the others.  Dancers are the worst.  Dance friends that I had for years would give me that "deer in the headlights look" when they saw my new body, which appeared grotesque to them, "How could she let herself go like that".  My students to this day, give me that lifted eyebrow with their hands folded across their chest when they first meet me, with that "And who is she that thinks she can teach me how to dance?" expression...believe me, I read body language all day, I know exactly what they are thinking.  And for years, I've been silent, hurt, and angry about it.

Along came baby number three, and yes another cesarean.  My body is definitely mutilated and stretched out beyond repair now.  And four years later I haven't been able to shed any of the baby weight; even though I teach up to 15 hours of dance a week, and run around with children everywhere... the stress is high.  And still, I must get up in front of everyone and say "I'm a dancer".  But I'm letting it go, right?  It's floating out to the Nethers right now...

I've come to that point, where I really don't care anymore.  Diets don't work.  I eat healthier now than I ever ate while I was dancing 6 hours a day.  I exercise when I can.  I still dance the best that my body will allow, because I love dance.  And that is all that matters.  So here is to another new perspective on what I focus my energy on:  Enjoying the food I eat and not punishing myself for eating it, enjoying the exercise I get as fulfilling and refreshing, not punishment for being ugly, and stepping out into this world in love with this mutilated body that gave me three miracles who teach me about life every day.  For this is my body, it is my instrument as a dancer, and it sings a beautiful song.

Riding the pendulum

Being a dance teacher is something that has taken me many years of practice, and only started as something that I begrudgingly did to pay the bills while I was chasing the dragon of fame...."Fame" being the next gig that's suppose to get you closer to being rich.  And everyone knows that rich people have no problems, right?  Wahwah.  But it is such a self-esteem high when you've nailed that next gig...and you experience such lows when you don't.  And let's face it, the high you get from performing is intensely addicting.

As the top of the ladder to rich and famous became increasingly higher and out of reach, I soon discovered that teaching filled that low self-esteem void and gave me a sense of importance.  That my students were looking to me for guidance and that I somehow had knowledge that they didn't...wow.  Definitely a self-esteem booster... and somehow I was still performing, on a daily basis, for my students, keeping them entertained and maintaining their interest.   They were there for ME.  They were like my younger siblings who I could guide on the right path, making me the cool teacher.  I was hip and edgy.  Such a feeling of power that gives you, being popular. 


But along the way, my perception started to change...it became less about me...and more about them.  I truly fell in love with TEACHING.  Not only that, I began to understand the responsibility of teaching correctly...I wanted to give them the best knowledge possible.  To know the vocabulary and anatomy, to keep abreast of the latest trends.  To help them achieve their greatest potential both as a dancer and as a person.  My role changed from older sibling to Mother...nurturing them, boosting their egos, giving them everything that I had in order to send them out into the world.  The pendulum had swung to the opposite direction... I was there for them...

It's funny.  That pendulum...how it never stops in the middle.  It just keeps swinging back and forth, like a metronome...ticking away...tick, tock, like a clock.  Time is passing on...

And still there is that low self-esteem void that I'm trying to fill....

I think back to how I perceived my own teachers along the way...some of them were the cool, edgy older sibling type...I looked up to them and wanted to do anything they asked of me. The motherly/fatherly type...they had such wisdom and concern for my future...

But there were negatives as well...the older sibling types were often unorganized and dramatic/moody as hell, really.  The motherly/fatherly types often seemed out of touch or controlling, holding you back from spreading your wings...and somehow...that pendulum keeps swinging.

I'm afraid that I'm getting tired...because that void seems to be bigger now...and I wonder whether I am successful at teaching anything...oh the movement, the vocabulary is there, and we are all still going through the motions, pretending to dance in sync...but what is it that I'm really suppose to be teaching??  Why do I feel so disconnected and that every intention I have is misunderstood?  What is the next phase for me? 

I think about Martha Graham who devoted her whole life to dance.  She performed until she was 76 years old, and was working on choreography until the day she died at 96.  How did she do it?  How did she keep the enthusiasm and drive when she had to feel herself aging, becoming more and more out of touch? 

"No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others." 
~ Martha Graham

So I'm try to put one foot in front of the other and I'm trying to march forward...into the great unknown...still waiting to feel more alive...

Martha Graham by Yousuf Karsh (1948)