Everyone Has A Story

My birthday is coming. And I look back over the last year and I see how far I've come and pray that I still have more time ahead to do more.

After being spiritually disconnected, mentally drained and emotionally checked out for more years than I care to count, last year was a coming to the alter type of year. Step up, kneel down, drop your burden here. And I did. I dropped the weight of my world...all my broken dreams and unfulfilled promises fell like scattered ashes and blew away like smoke. I felt empty and alone all the time. And I knew I stood at a major crossroad. I either keep going blindly or I choose my path.

I chose my path. I stepped into my life with a decision to be happy. There wasn't a master plan or detailed listing of what that entailed. My happy didn't have a To Do List attached. My happy is more complicated than that. My happy involves creation and connection. It's funny when you make that kind of decision, all kinds of things happen. Moments of clarity. Moments of insanity. Obstacles. Challenges. People that want to take your joy because they want it for themselves. But when happiness is part of your soul, it can never be stolen.

So as I look back over this past year, I count my blessings. I count my happiness. I count the moments of peace, love and laughter. I learn my lessons and make my mistakes with humility. I remember where I've been, because those that don't remember their past are doomed to repeat them.

I remember LA with Audrey, Mexico with Anne Marie, San Diego with Erin, Rosemont with Adriana,  Christine, Joe and Boris, downtown Chicago with Val, Lisbon with Marcelo, Claudia and Ricardo, Marrakech with Adriana, Patrick, Mike, Christine and Youssef, the beginning of Butterfly Slippers, the invitation to be a Board member of Joel Hall Dance Company, and New York with Tiffany and Rudi. I remember spending time with my nephews that are growing so fast while I stay so young :). I remember margaritas with Heather and Anne Marie. I remember having my heart broken. I remember the hard part of moving on.

Tonight when I felt hesitant about going to Jazz class, I remembered how good I feel when I'm dancing. David warmed us up, worked us down and walked us out. As I prepared to leave, I watched the class inside the fishbowl. Will Gill was instructing the group on the finer points of the movements, but not only that, relaying the importance of the starts and stops, go's and flows of the piece.

"Everyone has a story. You can't put lipstick on a soul." Will said. No, Will, you can't. It is what it is. It will be what it will be. And this is just part of my story. God willing there will be more.

Intermediate Jazz and Ballet Fierce Or Why I need to start drinking again

I was undecided about even posting this...but what the hell, right?

So I went to Mr. Hall's Intermediate Jazz 2 class on Saturday. I wasn't so afraid of being tossed out as I was about being left in the dust. I also have a slightly freakish aversion to being in the fish bowl studio. Call it outside of my comfort zone.

Thanks to the Princess, who put me out there on my facebook page....daring me to come to Intermediate Jazz 2...I walked up to the plate with my bat and struck out.....big time.

While talking to the Princess and generally avoiding looking other first company, second company and student company gazes in the eye, I opted to control my breathing and try to act normalish when I just KNOW I'm outta my league. Mr. Hall walks into class claiming to have made snow angels on the way over. Despite the room full of laughter, my stomach tightens and my breathing increases.....and then we sit on the floor and start the longest ab and leg stretching I've ever experienced in my life.

Now I've tried pilates before....this was harder....no...seriously....this shit was HARDER. And then to add the fact the Mr. Hall was on the floor with us while I'm about in tears...and trembling like a leaf on a branch....and he is breezing through it. Crunches, side reaches, rolls up with legs down, up, in a v, one in the air....

Side Bar: I'm too fat for this.
Menty: Just outta shape...
Side Bar: Round is A SHAPE!!!
Menty: Yup...I got nothing.

After the crunches make me consider disappearing into the bathroom for an undetermined amount of time, we start the leg stretches....at one point Mr. Hall tells us to roll over the leg that is closest to our ear onto our backs.....

Side Bar: And what would he like me to do? My leg isn't anywhere NEAR MY EAR!!
Menty: We are going over our butt....
Side Bar: Like there was EVER ANY OTHER OPTION...

After another 40 minutes of this, we make it to our feet and thank goodness, we do isolated undulations and hips because I pretty much though I would fall out.

Since I was already sweaty and mostly devastated, I stayed for ballet. Something I know a little more about....I was with Mr. Hall until we did the 'Fives'.....Now since we've already determined I'm an ADVANCED COUNTER....I still found myself stymied by doing this rhythm with a frappe....as was the rest of the class except maybe the person that demo'ed it and.....well.....Mr. Hall.

After surviving both classes, I pretty much refused to go anywhere near Jazz 2 ever again.....
And then I went to Ballet 1/2 on Monday and Mr. Hall hugged me and told me he was so happy to see me in class and was proud of how well I stuck it out....

Insert deep sigh....I may have to go back to Jazz 2....but I'm going to Beginning Jazz first....because I hurt for 4 DAYS after Jazz 2.

I need to go back to drinking....thanks MDB and Princess for 'ritas on Saturday!

"You are an Advanced Counter" Or Why You Should Go to Hip Hop

I walk into Joel Hall on Monday night in time for my Ballet Beat down with MDB at my usual time. 

All the students that are not in class are pressed to the glass window of the fish bowl to see what new creation is in process for the company. 

As I watch some of my favorites, MDB, Lil Red, Dreads and other dance wonders perform physical origami, I shake my head and wipe my nose print off the glass.

I step back to the sign in desk and sign in. I turn to Not David 4.0 and explain that I have mislabeled him. He is, in fact, 'a' David - but not 'the' David....so he is now David 2.0. He laughs (probably thinking WHO is this crazy lady?) and says "Well when David and I both work behind the desk we call ourselves Double D." 

Side Bar: Is he looking at my breast?

Menty: Did he just call me fat?!?!

Class is full and we start our barre combinations right way. MDB, of course, must fuss. Class is not class if MDB isn't poking body parts, pushing limbs, holding legs, correcting posture, pointers and positions. I am afraid I will come in and she will have a crop in her hand. 

Our combinations have gotten more complicated....our Starbucks menu of cuisine has expanded. And instead of that nervous pit of stomach feeling, I have a newfound confidence that if I screw this up....I will be ok. I can only do my best......so when we have frappes with an added eleve or rond de jambes with alternating fondues....I don't freak out. I just settle in and do it. 

And then my friend, Leize of Rahkshanda asked me to do Hip Hop which is after Ballet I/II. I'm tried and sweaty, but I pulled on my gym shoes and stayed. Now I'm BIG on counting - not because I can't find the rhythm but because I like to know what's happening WHEN. I do fine with musicality, but not if I don't know the song. 

So Mr. Afro is teaching us and I'm counting. And he won't give us the counts....and I ask for the counts so the things that I'm screwing up because I DON"T KNOW the counts....would be helpful. He says it doesn't matter.....

Side Bar: He didn't just say that...

Menty: That's what I heard....

Side Bar: He didn't mean it....

Menty: Ummm....no, I think he did.....

I count in my head anyway....and he is encouraging us as we move further along in this combination without counts, guidance and confidence....oh sure, we're moving....we are just fucking it up.....and then he picks faster music....so we are fucking it up DOUBLE TIME!!! 

I asked again for counts....Mr. Afro says "You are an advanced counter." 

Side Bar: What'd he just call me?

Menty: I think he means retarded...

Side Bar: I think everyone can count to 8....

Menty: Apparently not...we're advanced...

Mr. Afro says we look professional...and we are all hitting the marks....

Side Bar: We are all fucking up at the same parts so we ALL LOOK FUCKED UP

Menty: That is my interpretation as well...

Side Bar: Please blow more smoke....we are all ears....and advanced counters...

Class ends with Mr. Afro telling me to just let all that counting stuff go and it will be easier if I come back to class. I stop short of asking him if he's talked to MDB about how sale techniques :)

Faith: Belief that is not based on proof

Faith is a belief that is not based on proof per the dictionary online. 

I don't really have a lot of faith. I have a lot of fear. I find that the more I flex my courage muscle, the more I speak up anyway, the more I just put it out in the universe, the things that I feared most don't come forth. I throw them into the light, ready to run for cover and find that there is nothing there. The police don't beat me with the ugly stick, or hit me over the head for missing that step, no one points and laughs (out loud anyway), no one throws me out of the room, no one questions my right to be there and no one gives me a 'you look like a stupid idiot' ticket....though I do get those looks sometimes...but whatever...sticks, stones...kiss...my...ass...

But for whatever reason, MDB has faith in me. That, or she really likes laughing at me.....which isn't so bad because I like laughing at myself too. Sometimes, it's even on purpose! 

MDB has mentioned on several occasions that she would like me to audition for Joel Hall Second Company. There was an audition this past weekend. I have seen the dancers in Joel Hall First Company.....they are the real deal holy field. Even the dancers in the second company.....

Let me mention now that I have not been to a dance class in almost 5 weeks and had not danced for more than 20 consecutive minutes while in San Diego for work. 

I didn't go. I didn't think that I could do it. And then I go to teach tonight and find out someone else that came for the free day had enough gumption to audition without any training. And I think to myself "Oh ye of little faith....you auditioned for the Lyric Opera for Salome in 2006. You didn't think you would last the first round and you were one of the three finalist. You didn't think you could stand up to your boss at work and you did and it's better now. You didn't think you would buy a condo and you did. You didn't think you could go to ballet class and you did. You didn't think you'd ever do a triple pirouette, figure out the difference between a glissade, assemblage and sissone and you did (Thanks Nancy and Youtube). You didn't think you could write and you write a blog and articles for a magazine. You didn't think you could lose weight and you did. How many times will you lie to yourself because you are afraid of the voices in your head or the opinions of others? How many times will you allow yourself to be sidelined from your happiness because you are too afraid to try? What else would you do....if you just had a little more faith?" 

Maybe MDB has more than faith. Maybe she sees something in me in class that I don't see while trying to figure out my footwork, arms, and facing. Maybe while I am looking at ethereal she is looking at my potential. 

When I walked into Joel Hall on Monday evening for Ballet I-II, I said hello to at least 10 different people that knew me (at least as "that black chick that takes ballet class") and several said that they missed me yesterday at the auditions. It made me smile. I was missed. People noticed that I wasn't where they thought I should be. 

Here's to a little more faith :) and a little less fear