For me and my comrades in arms

I had a very busy weekend.  It consisted of a birthday party that my daughter attended for one of her classmates, taking my son to his karate class, a blocking rehearsal for my daughters' end of the year dance show, and a dress rehearsal for the same show where I am helping backstage as a quick-changer for those little children who have only a minute or two to get back on stage with every costume detail in place and a happy smile on their face.

The one thing that struck me during this whirlwind of madness, was the camaraderie of the women standing around me.  The moms.

Some of these beautiful women I have known for many years, some for only a few days or months.  But we have a connection, a bond.  As we sit for long hours waiting for our children to be done, we learn about each others lives, our woes, and our fears.  We laugh at each others stories and pass the tissues when one of us just can't hold the emotion in any longer.  Sitting there, side by side, we somehow feel like we are a part of something bigger than ourselves...a community, and maybe, like a family.

I cherish these women, for helping me feel normal.  For watching after my kiddos.  For talking me through my doubts and insecurities.  For not putting me down if I don't have it all together.  For not competing with me like we are on some sort of race to the finish line.  And for just sitting next to me in silence when our children are in the spotlight. 

Yes, they have a few more curves than they did when they were in their twenties, more wrinkles and dark circles under their eyes, more scars...both literally and figuratively.  And I am sure that they wonder, like I do, how time has flown by, and what ever happened to that twenty-something year old woman??

Well I am here to say that that young woman has developed into a beautiful, courageous, smarter, sophisticated, warrior-like Goddess who has an army of comrades by her side.  We are fierce.  And we are ready to fight to the death if you hurt one of our babies.

Thank you, women.  You have helped in so many little ways over the years. 

So lift up that glass of sangria, or bottle of cold beer, or whippy frappucino that you so well deserve and toast to the end of another successful day, where no one killed each other, everyone got fed, they all got bathed, and the bills that were most important got paid.  I salute you.  From my heart to yours, you deserve the moon and the stars and everything in between.  I am here for you, my friends.

Here is a snapshot of my eldest daughter Gwen's baby book...

back when I was twenty-eight and thought that I pretty much had things figured out.  

Oh, how silly I was...I could not even understand the depths of emotions that were soon to unfold.  The bottom photo is of me and my Mom.  

I had developed pre-eclampsia at that time, hence the puffy face.

The reasons why...

The question often becomes "why?"

On a small scale, that could be my son asking me why he has to wash his hair.  Or on a big scale that could be about the meaning of life, "why am I here?"

I think that is the question that keeps us stuck sometimes.  We want to know why, and there sometimes is no good answer. 

Sometimes, you just have to trust in the unknown.

Throughout the past few years, I haven't understood the reasons for things; why situations happened, or why there is so much animosity in the world.  But ultimately I have had to just trust in my own instincts.  In a way, it is trusting in what you know to be real in a world that is made up of internet/media make-believe that can help you survive.

A very dear friend of mine who is a beautiful visual artist walked away from the art world many years ago.  We were both about 27 years old at the time.  I couldn't understand why someone who was so obviously talented and had so much to offer the world through her artwork could do such a thing.  When I asked her why, she responded, "I can't stand the artist mentality anymore."  At the time her response appalled me, as being a dance artist I couldn't think of anything that I loved more than dance and the world that dance created for me, I never could see myself walking away.  Besides the fact that we were only 27 years old and I felt that she had so many more years ahead of her to create and explore.

Somehow, that is where I find myself today.  I desperately don't want to be jaded.  I don't want to be a negative energy.  I don't want to bring people down.  But that is the question I keep asking myself, "Why?"  What is the point really?  And I don't know the answer right now...

So, I am trying to trust...

I am trying to feel my way through this.  I am starting by focusing on the things I know to be true.

I know that my husband loves me.
I know that my children love me.
I know that I love to feel my body dancing and exploring movement.
I know that I love to watch my children dance.
I know that I love to choreograph.
I know that I love to watch beautiful, artistic, and powerful dance.
I know that I love to help others learn about themselves through dance.

Other than that, I don't know much else to be true or valid at this point...

and I am learning to trust that it is okay to feel this way.  I am hoping that I will discover new adventures where I will make beautiful memories through dance, theatre, and life.  Beyond that I am open to whatever possibilities arise.  It feels good to be hopeful.  And I am trying to be open and not afraid.  I am trying desperately to hold to these truths when I feel animosity around me.  It all will take time...and some day I may understand my purpose.

I wanted to mention, that I very recently found out that a colleague of mine lost her battle with depression.  My sincere thoughts and prayers go out to her family and friends as they move forward through this difficult time.  I unfortunately did not have the opportunity to know her very well, but she seemed to be a kind and gentle soul whom never did any harm to anyone.  I hope that her soul is at peace.  I wish that we had more time to know each other better.  But I do see how her beautiful artwork of costuming and design affected people, inspired people, and how they loved working with her.  I have to believe that was the purpose of her life...the "why"...

I only hope that she may have known it. 

This is a painting that my dear friend gave to me before she stopped painting.

The picture is a little unclear and doesn't do it justice at all.

I hope someday she will create more beautiful art again...

if anything, just for the joy of it.

At the end of the day...

There comes a time in a woman's life where she has to choose between what is easy and what is necessary...

One of the things that I have come to understand about life is that it is never simple.  People will hurt you.  You will be treated less than you deserve.  You will have someone cheat on you.  You will have someone break your heart.  You will be lied to.  You will be abused.  You will be gossiped about.  You will be stolen from.  You will be accused unjustly.  You will be left.  You will be ostracized.  You will be misunderstood.

It is inevitable.  And it will probably be someone that you cared about who commits these offenses against you.  There will be nothing that you can do to stop them.  It is out of your control.  They may never admit that they have done anything wrong, and they certainly will never apologize.

However, you can choose to not be a victim.

A long time ago, I was the victim of abuse.

A dirty old man lured an innocent child into a dark room and did things that her innocent mind had never thought of.  His wife lay "sleeping" on a nearby couch.
The child felt violated.  She felt ashamed.  She felt like she never should have gone into that room.

I know now, that I was a child, and that there was nothing that I could have done to prevent what happened.  That the "man" was screwed up in the head.  And I actually was an innocent victim.
I walked into a room and didn't understand or comprehend what was about to happen.

For many years, I repressed my feelings about what happened.  Slowly and surely, when faced with moments of confrontation, I developed anxiety.  If you have ever had anxiety, you know that it is something that you cannot control.  Believe me, I would love to be able to stand up to someone in moments of confrontation without shaking or crying.  I try to be strong, but in reality I appear very weak.

Coming full circle.
The funny thing about the arts, is that they bring our emotions, our thoughts, and our darkest fears to the surface, sometimes without us knowing.  Who knew that trying to put my heart and soul into a collaborative project would make me feel so raw and exposed.  I naively walked into a dark room, and was confronted with many psychological demons.  I could not control the way people treated me...and yes there were moments where I was hurt, where I was treated less than I deserved, where I was cheated, where people broke my heart, where I was lied to, where I felt abused, where I was gossiped about, where I was stolen from, where I was accused unjustly, where I was left, where I was ostracized, and where I was misunderstood.  And for a brief moment...

I was the victim of my own tragedy....and I judged myself harshly for it.

But gloriously, after many eons of nights of soul searching, I will no longer be a victim.  I will no longer be a judge either, and I forgive myself for going into that room.  From here on out, I know that the rooms that I walk into may have people with good or bad intentions standing there.  But I am armed now as a Spiritual Warrior, safely shielded from any weapons that may be thrown at me.  For I have released all of the hurt and anger and fear, they do not control me now.  I am wrapped in a blanket of love.  Love for myself.

Nor will I be the villain in someone else's tragedy.   For I know now, that there may be other victims in that room with me, that I may not even know the depths of their pain.  I know that the choices that I make, the words that I use, and the environments that I help create can have profound affects on whomever is there beside me.  I choose to LOVE, and to FORGIVE, to HOPE, and to hopefully be a guiding light for others who may need me.  I will be guided by feelings of love and joy in the hopes of using my art to help others.  And hopefully we may all be healed.

At the end of the day, that is all that matters...that is all that is necessary...

  
 

Choosing your words

My middle child, my baby girl, has a mean girl bullying her at school.  You know the type, snarky remarks that are meant to prick at your self-esteem and make you feel small.  Every day there are comments about what my daughter wears or who she sits with. But the ones that hurt the most are the ones that Angie can't help...how she laughs, or the color of her hair.  As a parent, your first instinct is to go up to school and give that little twerp a piece of your mind.  My husband's idea is to teach Angie how to box...makes sense from the male perspective.  For now...I am letting things play out, trying to let Angie learn to defend herself in a more diplomatic way, through her words.

Thankfully that is the one thing that I don't worry about with Angie, she knows how to use her words.  She has always been quick-witted and first to verbally respond.  She is very sweet and nurturing, so she has lots of friends and appears to be quite popular among the other children.  Even so, it still hurts when someone picks at you, or points out things that they see as flaws. 

I know that with the media showing us violence in schools everyday and the anti-bullying campaign that has been installed in schools as a result, it is hard to just sit back and let things play out.  There is so much to worry about in today's society.  But somehow I instinctively know stepping in will teach Angie to be a victim, more than a warrior.  And I want her to be a warrior.  I want her to find her own power.  So for now, we talk about things.  I am glad that she tells me what is going on.  I ask her lots of questions.  I let her know that she is loved.  I make sure she knows that she can talk to her teacher about things, and that no one is allowed to lay hands on her and that she has a right to defend herself.  We talk a lot about the other girl and how she has special homework because her parents can't help her with the regular homework, and how the little girl struggles with school work.  We talk about how sometimes people make you feel small so that they feel big.  We talk about how tearing someone down is a sign that someone is very unhappy and doesn't like themselves.  We talk about words and the power that they hold, and how to protect ourselves from someone else's words.  I am glad that we can talk about it all...

Don Miguel Ruiz wrote in his book, The Four Agreements, "BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORD.  Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love."

You never know as a parent, if you are doing things right...but if I can teach my daughter this one lesson...I know she will realize her inner warrior.  That she will be able to look any bully in the eye and see how in pain they are, and that she has the power to shield herself from words used as weapons. That LOVE will always win. 

I was never good with words.  The words always got stuck, building anxiety.  Dance became my way of expression.  Over time and with experience I have gradually learned that I have an inner warrior and was able to find my words. These experiences were often because of bullies, but I hold no anger towards these individuals now.  Situations come into your life that give you lessons, and I am so grateful that the bullies in my life helped me realize my own self-worth, even though it was painful at the time.  I hope that they have found peace.  I hope that they have felt love.  I hope that they have realized their own self-worth so that they never bully again.  For we all have the potential of being the bully.  It is how we choose to use our words that determine our character.   My daughter is learning to choose LOVE.  And I know that has more power than any words that someone could say to her.