Thursday, July 28, 2011

Measuring self worth and finding connections

I have become quite accustomed to vegging out in front of a television lately - it dulls my mind and lets me escape from the chaos and crumbles that have enveloped me.   All the while, continuing to contribute to my depressive mood as studies have show television and computers will do.   However, whenever I see "So You Think You Can Dance" on television, something ignites inside me and I get emotional.  Cheesy perhaps but I think it is stirring a part of me that has been in hiding for a long time.  I may not be able to dance anymore but my heart really feels the music.  (You may be of the opinion that I can still dance if I want or choose to, I however, believe I am not willing at this time to allow myself that raw vulnerability just yet).  When I close my eyes I can see myself moving, much like a beautiful, flexible willow tree in a rainstorm.  Twisting, bending, reaching and flowing with the environment surrounding me.  I can still feel the pounding of my toes in my pointe shoes on the floor, hear the crackling of the resin on my shoes as I sweep across the wooden dance floor.   I can feel the rise and fall of my chest as I breathe in deeply to catch my breath and feel the warmth of my muscles working as I stretch across the floor.  I can hear the voice of my dance teacher as she counts out the tempo of the movement or corrects me and recall the scent of the dance studio.  My body remembers moves that my mind lost some time ago.  Every time I am brought to tears.  Perhaps my soul is sad because I stopped dancing.  Perhaps this is one of the few places that I truly felt like I was honest to myself, honestly Brie - loved and accepted just for me throughout my dreadful middle school and teen years.  Instead of trying so hard for acceptance much like I felt the need to do in middle and high school, I was okay, actually, I was more than okay at my dance studio.  I was accepted and liked and even perhaps looked up to.  I enjoyed my classes, the rehearsals and the recitals despite the nerves of dancing on stage.  I loved teaching the little ones ballet classes on Saturday morning when all of my "friends" from school were still warm in their beds. 

Even in college, when my skills had dramatically vanished, I still craved being in the studio - I took ballet, lyrical, jazz and hip hop while at college.  I subjected myself to feeling incredibly vulnerable at Western by taking a ballet class after several years of being out of the loop with a ton of well polished college students studying to be dancers.  I embarrassed myself constantly attempting to complete moves that I was no longer flexible enough for.  However, I went back every week without even a second thought. 

 I loved dancing.  It was me and nothing about it felt fake, forced, coerced or half-assed. 

Jade and I took Irish Step and swing dance lessons one summer while I was home from college- we had such a blast taking dance together.  We would practice all the time at home and laugh at our goofy attempts to do more difficult dance moves.  Perhaps dance is not only a physical release for me but also about the emotional connection to others.  My sister and I had a tumultuous relationship for the first 13 years of her life - I had issues and was constantly picking on her and being awful to her - I was jealous and with my level of immaturity that translated to being a huge jerk to her on almost all occasions.  When we finally began to get along, it was a wonderful experience to ENJOY something with her - to spend time getting know the kind and loving person she was and still is and laugh with her, not at her, because we were spending time together.  I think that was one of my favorite summer memories while I was in college.  Thinking about it now, I miss her terribly.  I think about her pretty much every day and am so angry at myself for how mean I was to her when we were younger.  I do not think I can forgive myself for being so awful.  I worry about her health and well being all the time.  I pray for her all the time and hope that God hears me asking to him to watch over and protect her on a daily basis.

 I wish we lived closer together. 

I feel certain we would sign up for another dance class together. 

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