What I really discovered at the brief discussions with classmates last weekend (I avoided the cocktail-dressed standing around event, for the shorts-n-beer standing around event), is that although it seems everyone just wanted to get as far away from Hometown as much as I did, I did not make it. I don't know why this shocks me, but it does.
Yes, I know that comparing yourself to others is the definition of hell. But it is also the point of "class reunion", yes?
It really shouldn't be a shock. I was right there while it happened. And I'm going to generously estimate that 50% of those events where choices I actually made (as opposed to letting things abide), but it still ended up in the exact opposite of my desired result. I have always lived within 5 miles of the house I grew up in. I work across the street from the hospital where I was born. I went to the state university in town, twice.
Yet, I don't feel duped or unhappy. I love knowing all the houses in the neighborhood, and having the back story on so many stories. I feel like I belong here.
And it's not like everyone got away, either. There are quite a few that stayed in Hometown. One man, who described his desperation to get away after high school, basically moved to the mid-state equivalent of our Hometown and created a life he could have just as easily lived in our Hometown. I understand. I know how this could happen.
I just always pictured myself in a major city. But then I took none of the steps to get me there and now I would give up none of my prizes to do it in the present. It's time to let the dream die. Isn't it?
The Universe has a tractor and it's coming to tow us all away. But wait, we're already on board! We don't even have to do anything. The Universe is us!
(Do Dah Parade this year. I think this was the Nature Center's float.)
So, I thought I had this brilliant new idea. I would list out all the options for a problem, and then make a column for Truth and Love. I could then rank the options and pick the best option.
For example, Should I go to the Class Reunion?
Option 1: Do not go.
Truth: Sure!
Love: No. What if there's someone you want to see there?
Option 2: Go, but keep your guard up. Those bitches will cut ya!
Truth: No, probably not. They're 42 years old now, and presumably slightly more mature.
Love: No.
Option 3: Go, and keep your expectations realistic.
Truth: Yes!
Love: Yes!
Awesome, right? And even though my original point was going to be that had I just read a few more Buddha quotes on Pinterest I would have already known this, there IS something very powerful about writing it out. I honestly didn't know that it would be okay until I grasped for a lame example and wrote it out. It's going to be okay. The Universe is here. The Universe is us.
Ruin Your Life as You Know It: Well, let's hope so. I want to try it anyway. Because there's no rebirth without death, right? No assumptions without words. No cake without ice cream. Well, I guess there's cake without ice cream, but not without frosting? Or not a great cake, anyway.
Just Piss Everyone Off: Entirely possible. I used to believe this was the worst thing that could happen. Because then people might not like me, and that would have killed me. Having been slapped, and fired, and all of the other seemingly stupid things that have happened to me in the last 5 years may have prepared me for the possibility. There's only one way to find out!
Not Necessarily Be a Means to an End: Or, The Truth may not be the Truth. I think this is what irritated me for so long. Because somehow I thought The Truth was not down with social niceties, and I love social niceties. It's so nice to see you, etc. etc. Flirting, for the love of God. I still believe these things make life fun and the world spin.
But I eventually figured out the opposite of the Truth was not Bad or even Lies but Denial. And Denial is not doing me any favors. I also eventually realized the Voice I was rambling about at New Year's or so is actually the Truth! It was seriously a breakthrough in the clouds. OH! I get it.
But do I get it? Let's see. I know this is all very conceptual. But here goes. Let's apply a concept and see what happens. Let's tell ourselves the truth.
When it was so hot, I moved very slowly. It made everything kind of dreamy, and I was dreaming of those who live in the hot temperatures all the time, and how it would be easier if my life were structured for heat. It's funny, right now I can't even remember why we were in such a panic. But you'd just be sitting there, warm, and realize I'm so sweaty and I can't cool down! And then you'd get that panic hot, the kind that I dream can kill you.
But it's over now, I keep telling myself. Is it? Now it is. Relax. Remember the lessons.
Lesson 1: It's okay to be hot. This is very obnoxious of me to state, because I generally have resources. I can go in the house (blinds were pulled, doors and windows closed until evening, because we don't have the luxury of central air). I can open the refrigerator and get a cool drink. I can drive somewhere in my car, maybe even drive to a place with air conditioning. Lots of resources.
Lesson 2: A hangover in extreme heat is quite awful. Lay off the sauce.
Lesson 3: You are afraid to be with yourself sometimes, and that's part of the heat panic. It's true. But I quit. I'm planning to make friends with myself. I can do things by myself, and I am good company. So far, I have gone to the bar by myself, and driven to the beach by myself. I need to assign myself some other tasks (like maybe start a home project by myself?) before I can call myself independent. If you think of any, please let me know. I'm quite serious.
Lesson 4: But the best part is still when the heat subsides and you're still standing.
I've just returned from Tribal Revolution with a new idol and attitude. I learned a lot. I loved a lot! I now mangle sentences and cliches just trying to relay how much I freaking loved it.
Lesson 1. I drove to Chicago (well, past Chicago) by myself for the first time since the early 00s. Now, we have the benefit of GPS, but I was proud of myself nonetheless. I do not want to get stuck in one place.
Idol 1: Rachel Brice Serpentine Scales was my first workshop. First of all, she's adorable and an amazing dancer. Is it fair that she's also hilarious and smart? No, but that's how the world works, sisters, so get up offa that wall. There were a lot of amazing concepts to absorb, from the 90 / 90 principle (practice something 90x a day for 90 days and it's yours forever) and the whole idea of playing your dancing "scales" on a regular basis, to her cool and unusual footwork and drills. Plus, yoga. I miss good yoga instruction. We even took a picture with her afterward! That's my sometimes dance collaborator and hotel roommate Michelle on the right. I am wearing my new beloved Girl Walk // All Day inspired scarf.
Next: Elizabeth Strong. She was teaching Upper Egyptian Fusion, which included geography, history, culture, and duh, dancing. I knew a lot of the dance moves from studying with Joette, but I am ashamed to say I did not know as much of the culture / history / geography as I should. Revelation 1: it would be good to be a well-informed and articulate speaker, as well as dancer.
New Idol: Donna Mejia. Her class was called Le Funk Araby, which I was attracted to for the promise of new playlists. But there was so much more! It was kind of a hip hop / pop and lock dance style, which means I am quite thankful there were no mirrors in the conference center to reflect my clueless-ness. For example, see this:
There's a long intro, skip to 2:15. I wore my wow face during her entire performance. She stopped time and held it at 5:40. And then sped it up at 7:15. How can a human do this? She can't. She's a goddess.
So, 3 classes in one day was a lot of dancing.... The next day I only had 2 classes.
Idolatress Extraordinaire: Tempest. I've taken a workshop with her before. Heck, I may have already heard some of this before. But it's an excellent reminder. Revelation 2: We are dancing to tell a story. It's not about looking sexy. (Also, Revelation 3: very sage belly advice - that avoiding performance until your belly looks the way you think it should is really just avoiding performance.) We did an exercise where we improvised to music and then told the group what we were imagining. I was kind of annoyed that my brain went into Hollywood pitch mode, "Goddess surveys the destruction of war in Sarajevo, meets cute boy. Scene!" whereas others had more details, or at least said them out loud. But I realized that I had used a similar approach (at least in my own head) when I was choreographing with Julee and Michelle for our trio at the Greek Fest, and that made me feel better.
Then, the athletic workout of Asharah! Seriously, two hours of shimmying on releve'. Ouch. But awesome ouch. I thought I had lost my shimmy, thanks to running and the IT band. But no, you can use your glutes. Thank goodness, as I reputedly have lots of glutes.
There were two shows. Friday night we saw our local tribal school dance (Boheme), which was cool, and Saturday was the big gala craziness where Donna Mejia removed my brains and scrambled them, Tempest charmed them, and then Rachel Brice messed with the time-space continuum again and everyone was really awesome actually until Unmata killed me with this (again, from Tribal Fest, so different stage and audience, same performance). It's long and loud.
I know there's a lot of links here. But I want to share! It's an awesome world out there.
Lesson 2: Keep in touch. I had meals with some new friends, and some old friends, and it felt natural. No need to stress. Give love, get love, platitudes can be right.
I am sure the next 51 weekends will not compare, so I want to remember these things. I want to practice them. Happy half-year and summer.
So, our friend Kelly (she is your friend, too) found kittens in her garage. Adorable kittens with names. Another friend insisted that they must be killed before they reproduce and create a feral kitten colony in Kelly's garage.
And this is where is I leave the MUST! / have to / everyone-knows ____ religion of high-achievement and being the best you can be. Really? Killed?
Because sometimes the best you can be is = meh. (Not that there is any evidence of that above!!!)
Confession: I'm not always following my spirit guide. I'm not even using my "whole ass" (as opposed to my "half-ass"?). I'm doing the best I can with tools that were available at the time. I am not impressed with this effort either, but sometimes I am surprised by how much more that is than what is frequently "brought to the table".
I guess I'm apologizing. I should have written a book by now. I should have cured some diseases (or at least successfully fought off CANCER FOREVER!!!!). I should have been traveling the whole time and being an enviable elegant classy lady. I should be making a million dollars a year, living with my SOUL MATE! and flying a helicopter or something.
But, I love kittens. Kittens deserve a chance. I understand that feral cats have miserable lives, will overtake the neighborhood, pee on everything. Fluffy tabby kittens. Feral mangy black cats. Is there nothing in between?
So there. I said it. I am not always on. I am not even trying. I just want to be on when it's important, which is nearly a random occurrence. So you try to be the best you can on a regular basis, but you can't always be awesome. And that's okay. You go, kittens. I'm on my way, too.
Venus in Transit. Where did you go? What will you bring us? Such greedy, selfish children. But hey, that's what you get. I hope you bring us love. (I have enough snow globes for now. )
I will try to bring you love, too. Open your heart, I'll make you love me. It's not that hard, if you just turn the key.
For some stupid reason (two beers) I was just trying to explain to co-workers why the term "soul-mate" gets under my skin. It's a lot of pressure, is most of it. SOUL MATE. Seriously? My soul is a serious thing. It's heavy, and soaking wet. You can't lift it. I can barely stand to carry it around myself. And if I have met my mate, he's kind of mad at me right now for not dropping everything.
So I'll just keep searching. Because love is everywhere, and that's okay. But you gotta keep your heart open. Because there's a little boy waiting for you finish your shift at the peep show. And then you can skip off into the dusk, away from that old man yelling Italian after you. This is a metaphor for ______________.
