“Having left the tree from where he hung, the Fool moves carefully through a fallow field, head still clearing from visions. The air is cold and wintry, the trees bare. Before him, he sees, rising with the sun, a skeleton in black armor mounted on a white horse. He recognizes it as Death. As it stops before him, he humbly asks, “Have I died?” He feels, in fact, rather empty and desolate. And the Skeleton answers, “Yes, in a way. You sacrificed your old world, your old self. Both are gone, dead.” The Fool reflects on that, “How sad.” Death acknowledges this with a nod. “Yes, but it is the only way to be reborn. A new Sun is rising, and it is, for you, a time of great transformation.” As Death rides away, the Fool can feel the truth in those words. He, too, feels like a skeleton, all that he was stripped away. This, he understands, is how all great transformations start, by stripping things to the bone, and building fresh upon the bare foundations.”
These past few months have been really hard.
I’ve felt so purposeless. I feel like I’m just barely scraping by. I have little motivation to dance, I’ve been listless and lazy. I feel like this picture: My head is barely above water, and below the surface is a very deep, dark place that I would prefer not to go.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or “woe is me.” My life is really great — good people, lots of opportunities. I know this. But when I don’t have purpose, drive, motivation… I can very quickly go to a bad mental place that’s hard to get out of. When you’re in that bad place, all the logic, reason, and the “c’mon, my life’s not that bad”s in the world can’t pull you out.
Dancer’s block. Life block. What does one do when real life gets in the way of your dreams? I’ve been asking myself for months: What is this funk and how I can get myself out of this? Where next?
This will be the first time I am making a move completely for myself. This is the first time since I was 18 that I am single and making a big life change on my own.
It scares the crap outta me.
Things I do know:
1) As John Hartford said, “But when ya gotta go, ya gotta go/There’s always somebody don’tcha know/A-hangin’ round a-sayin’ “Well I told you so”/Back in the Goodle Days.”
I gotta go. It’s time to move on. I’ve been grieving the end of a period of my life that has been over for awhile now. Romanticizing it, trying to make it something else, stressing about a new place is not going to change the fact that… it’s over. Relationships have changed or ended, my focus on dance has shifted, and the place that I once loved unconditionally has become a harbor of hard lessons learned. I see the ghosts of my former life everywhere in this town.
…I’m not sure if I fully felt that loss until right now.
2) I need to dance.
Dance has always been more than a hobby. It’s been a grounding force. It’s been mine, and no one elses. It’s been my therapy, my self-medication; I’ve learned to love myself through dance, respect myself. I’m a Cancer — I’m one moody girl. My highs are exhilarating, and my lows are crippling.
I need to dance. It’s not a choice, it’s become a part of how I process this world. Dancing at Nichelle Lawrence’s benefit this weekend really drove home that nothing on this planet makes more sense or fulfills me like dance, and that I need it. I must prioritize it.
3) I have family everywhere. I have been overwhelmed by the generosity and love of those in my community. I have been floored by the fact that there are so many people that have been helping me through this. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without them. Your support means more than I could possibly express. Thank you Nichelle, Rev, Steve, Sharon, Sierra, Katie, Natalie, Seth, Lola + Kyla, and the countless others that have taken the time to even just offer some encouraging words. I love you all.
I remember calling my mom recently after overdrawing my bank account. I was crying and panicking, telling her I had no idea what I was doing in my life, that I had no money, that everything in my life felt like it was going to shit (pardon my French). She told me, “You know… this is just a sacrifice you’ve chosen to make by pursuing the life you want.”
Strangely, that put it in perspective. It’s just money. These past few months have just a small speed bump that is, in the grand scheme of things, not nearly as stressful as I’m making it. I have people that care, I have dance, I have love.
I know it’s worth it. I know I’ll figure it out.
Fate favors the risky.