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.