Fondues and Ballet Shoes

 

circa 1977

 

At the beginning of the year I chose a word – a word that would set my intention for 2015. The word is adventure. For those of you who know me, most of my adventure comes in the form of trying out a new art supply or reading a new book. Exciting, right? Although I do enjoy both of those immensely, I wanted this year to include new adventures.

My first adventure was last night. It involved a small room, a bar, several young women in tights and loud music. Before you let your imagination run wild, I must confess that it was not some seedy club, but a dance studio and I was showing up willingly (what the what???) for an adult ballet class.

Anyone who knows me is probably thinking that I’ve gone mental. Michelle, the girl who tripped up the stairs Freshman year earning myself the nickname “Clumbo”? Michelle the girl who ran into a very large, very visible pole while looking at a puppy walking by? Michelle, the girl who quit dance at the age of 11 after only two weeks because of her lack of coordination, and inability to shuffle tap (or do anything else with) her left foot? Yep, that Michelle. That’s the one folks. Welcome to middle age and my new this-life’s-too-short-to-give-a-shit-how-foolish-I-look attitude!

So back to the class last night. The minute I walked in, I wanted to walk out. The front room was small and filled with moms of ballerinas and a couple of other ladies who were putting on their ballet shoes. I pressed my back up against the front window, trying to blend in – with the window, not the people. My heart was pounding to the beat of the music blaring from the studio down the hall. I knew no one. My friend who got me into this mess adventure, had an emergency health situation and wasn’t able to make it. I promised her I would go. So, despite my better judgment, I stayed.

I stayed and I danced. Well, I mean I tried. I was completely put-off by the mirrors lining the walls. Not only was I stumbling dancing, but I was forced to watch myself stumble dance. Not pretty. In fact, I had a hard time concentrating because I was too busy criticizing myself.

The instructor was very nice, but was all about total immersion. All of the women in the room had prior ballet experience, but me (aside from my two weeks of right-footed dancing when I was 11). So here I was attempting desperately to discern the difference between a fondue and a tendue and still “do” the step without falling behind. Oh boy. Every time the instructor said “fondue” I wanted to ask, “Where’s the cheese?!” Somehow I think my humor might have been missed.

But you know what? Despite being completely out of my comfort zone, I showed up, stayed and plied (I know there is an accent mark there but I can’t find out how to do it) with the rest of them. And I left there feeling proud of myself. If I bailed out on my first adventure in 2015 that would have set the stage for the rest of the year and I won’t stand for that. So, today I ordered a pair of black ballet shoes (vegan) and am actually, sort of, maybe a little bit, looking forward to next Monday when I will know that a fondue is called a fondue because like the food version, the step resembles a melting of sorts. Yep, I looked it up today!

So, I’m here to encourage you to step outside of your comfort zones, and find out what you are really capable of. It’s a small world and you are huge so stride it like a colossus bee-yatch!

The World is Too Much With Me

Even the smallest voices deserve to be heard.

A favorite poem of mine by William Wordsworth begins with this line:

The world is too much with us

And lately I feel that more than ever. For all the good that is in this world, and there is plenty, it seems to me, at least today, that there is much more that is bad. I know in my heart that this is not true, but it’s my heart that is clouding that perspective at the moment. As an empath it’s the extreme emotions that dictate my mood. Today the emotion was despair – despair in the human race.

I went to PetSmart today without realizing that it was pet adoption day. Generally I try to avoid those days because I am unable to adopt all of the pets that are there. And believe me, if I could, I would without hesitation. As is my custom, if I see a dog then I have to pet said dog. Today the Golden Retriever adoption foster families were there with three beautiful dogs. I situated myself on the floor and began to pet Bella. Bella was abandoned in an apartment in the middle of the night when her family moved out. Next was Rosie who was surrendered three days before Christmas because her family no longer wanted her – she is nine years old. Finally, there was Hunter, named so because he was found by a group of hunters in the woods where he had been dumped. He has a birth defect and his nose is malformed and it is believed that is why he was abandoned. All three dogs held these stories in their eyes – abandonment, and sadness. But they were also so full of love and ready to be accepted.

I fought back tears as I imagined the pain and fear that each one had felt at being left by the people they loved. No matter how hard I try, I cannot comprehend what kind of person could do this. There is some human component lacking in one who could treat any living being with such disrespect and lack of compassion. I left heart heavy, but hopeful because of the earth angels who are caring for them now.

Then I came home and read a post on Facebook about a father in Florida who killed his  five year old daughter by throwing her off a bridge. How is this possible? What is happening in the world?

I am so saddened by our world today. This has to stop. This has to change. We are better than this. I don’t even know how to finish this post. But I had to get this out of me.

Please, please be kind to one another – especially those whose voices might be too small to be heard.

Peace.

Leaps and Bounds

This photo was taken this past summer. It’s a very candid, heartbreaking shot of my oldest who suffers from severe OCD. When I look at this picture I feel shattered inside because there was nothing I could do to take away his pain. All I could do was be there. It was his war and it was all happening on a battlefield I couldn’t see.

That was then. This is now. See that thing on his face? It’s a small one, but it’s huge to me – a smile. You have no idea how this makes me feel. In the past week, Jake has come so far. He has proven that he is capable of being his own warrior and hero. What you can’t see is that there are no gloves on his hands! None! He’s gone from wearing gloves to eat, drive, and handle pretty much anything to wearing none at all! Not too long ago, I was making trips to Rite Aid several times a week to buy hundreds of gloves. No exaggeration. This is what one of our garbage cans used to look like after only one day.

So what changed? Jake found hope. He found hope in friends who like him for who he is, a family who encourages him and constantly reminds him of his strength, and a part of  him that finally found it’s voice and screamed, “YOU ARE WORTH THE FIGHT!!!!”

To say I am proud of him would be the biggest understatement ever. I have watched Jake struggle with Tourette’s and OCD since he was diagnosed at the age of six. And as many times as I have watched him struggle, I have watched him an equal amount of times triumph over these challenges. I am aware that he will probably deal with this for the rest of his life on some level. But I am comforted by his resilience. He is one of the strongest people I have ever known, and I am blessed that he chose me to share this journey with him.

We may be clothed in human materials, but our core, our spirit is made of something far greater than anything of this earth. Sadly, this is something that so many of us fail to remember. Not me, not anymore, because every time I look at Jake I am reminded that we are made of stars.