Surprise

"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." ~ Joseph Campbell

Gorgeous Sabrina,

It was so much sweeter than I imagined it could have possibly been to dance with your troupe today; the most generous holiday gift I could ever dream of. Every ounce of fear turned into perfect clarity that let me remember every nuance of your exquisite choreographies. It felt like everything I've struggled to learn along the way was laid out before me, a perfect feast of accomplishment, total bliss reflected in your loving eyes. I will never understand how I got to be so lucky as to know you. You truly are my inspiration, beautiful dancer.

I love you,

Bonnie

I wish you bliss

At the end of my yoga for dancers class this morning, I was lovingly adjusted into corpse pose for shavasana with a brief foot rub that drew all of the tension completely out of my ever-aching dancer feet. There was so much love in that touch that I had a happy flutter in my step all day. I wish you a surprise of loving kindness just like that.

After class, I sat in my friend’s car chatting for a few minutes before I had to be at the Center. She saw the crazy yellow nozzle on the industrial size spray bottle of water I had in my bag. She asked if I was going to clean some windows after yoga, and I told her that it was to wet down my hair to tame it a little between yoga and volunteering. She grabbed it and told me that there were little pretty squirt bottles for that at beauty supply stores. I am much more interested in function, though, and this one works surprisingly well. She squirted it out the open window and was impressed with the amount of mist that came out. Then, of course, she turned and squirted it into my face. I grabbed it and squirted it into her ear, in a flurry of giggles. I wish you childlike laughter just like that.

At my volunteer gig today, I felt so appreciated. The precious boys at the front desk called me over to give me a key chain they had set aside for me that says “I ♥ girls”. The purple spiral pendant just fell off of my beautiful handmade key chain last month, so this treasure was particularly sweet. Then they offered me a giant tray of holiday cookies, and I found the perfect coconut one to make me purr with pleasure back at my desk. I wish you deliciousness just like that.

Both of my dance classes tonight were sweaty and challenging with flowing gooey choreography that really pushes me past those old ideas about being clumsy and oafish. In the advanced class, Sabrina called out for us to get into tribal formation and take turns leading LaRa’s yummy combo. I was in the lead position at the front left corner of the room, but something big was missing. There was no flash of panic, no blurring of memory, no muscular meltdown, no total brain stutter leaving me clueless, no loud voice in my head screaming that I am not good enough to do this. My body just did its quiet little posture check, pulling up tall out of my waist, bending my knees, tucking my pelvis, pulling my shoulders back and down, lengthening my neck, and then I was ready. I asked for help with finding the count in the music so I could start in the right place, and then led the combo. I don’t know how else to describe in words just how far I have come from cowering in the back of the room, agonizing that someone might actually see me. I wish you a sense of peace that can only come from walking boldly through the middle of your yuckiest fears.

At home, my wife asked me to taste the giant pan of baklava she had just finished baking. The filling is an ecstasy of macadamia nuts, pecans, and pistachios, the syrup is a fantasy of wildflower honey reduction infused with orange and lemon, and the pastry is a happy dream of flaky buttery goodness. Almost as happy is the reason she made it: our dear friend’s parents who are so infamous for their good cooking have finally invited us over for dinner. I wish you welcome indulgences just like that.

At long last, I drew a bath so hot that it took me ten minutes to get into, and parboiled my whole body a deep red. (Not quite hot enough to burn me, but hot enough that I kept picturing Bugs Bunny gingerly getting into the cooking pot and grabbing a carrot being sliced into the rabbit stew.) I eased into gentle stretches until every single ache loosened, opened, and finally let go. I sank back and laughed at the brilliant color of my soft red toes peeking out of the bubbles, tipped with toenails polished with Pike’s Peek-a-boo Purple, and wondered if I could relax my tired body enough to actually fall asleep in the tub. I wish you perfect yielding softness just like that.

Deliberately

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

~ Henry David Thoreau

My heart is so rich with the treasure of this moment: waiting for LaRa to throw a wadded up napkin into my face across the dinner table, she fakes left, she fakes right, she fakes high, she fakes low, and then Steven finally smacks her in the face with a surprise paper wad from the side. I laughed so loud as her face contracted out of that devilish grin into an O of shock, that the entire restaurant turned to glare at us. Sabrina and Roberto wrenched from their intense dialogue to witness a maelstrom of paper wads and childish laughter. Their eyes tried to pin us back into some semblance of good behavior, but we were so far past the point of manners that we couldn't even stifle the giggles.

I am blessed and thrilled to feel so playful that I can shamelessly offend an entire restaurant full of people and then walk back in the next night for more tom kah kai, to get a sweet pat on the back and warm greeting from the owner. It feels like a fading dream that I ever could have been so desperate to be unnoticed that I was perfectly quiet, paralyzed, behaved, invisible. How could I have spent thirty-three years frozen in terror like that? I barely recognize that woman, she is so far away now. Today I am coming fully awake, owning my space, and living out loud. I am showered with abundance and bliss in a thousand forms. I am wealthy beyond measure.

Out of the closet

Everyone seems to have such profound loathing of fat in our culture that no one really talks about the losses that come from shedding weight. When your body changes enough, all of your clothes become strangers. This week I am finally letting go of my old wardrobe, clearing space for my new energy and grieving quietly for the life I have left behind and the person I used to be.

Every piece has a story, from the fierce determination of the bargain hunt to the cool clarity of my role as the character in that costume. It was such a struggle to find anything flattering in the women’s department, especially the flowing fabrics I have such a fondness for. I shopped smarter and harder than most people could imagine, in spite of my dread of those harsh changing room lights, of the hovering sales clerks, the toxic clouds of perfume, the nauseating muzak, the ugly clothes in every store, and the depressing way women’s sizes never seem to be shaped for actual human beings.

My blue silk suit with the dry cleaning tags still pinned on, my olive suit in flowing rayon, my plum suit with the smart lapels, that fabulous black suit that was such a bargain because it was missing a button: all are size 22 and beyond alteration now that I am wearing a size 12. (You might think that sounds ideal, but how would you really feel if someone took your clothes away?)

Years have passed since I was an executive assistant, since these silky sheaths made up my daily uniform. I was so desperately poor when I put this wardrobe together. These clothes magically cloaked me in an air of powerful confidence. I was hyperfunctioning and indispensable, a chain-smoking bundle of nervous wreck, perched atop a thousand tiny details so the executives I nurtured could focus on the bigger picture. Now I am on an amorphous path shaped by the energy of my creative dreams. There are no little corporate objectives highlighted with bullet points in my life today. Instead, I am pushing myself courageously forward towards my bliss one dance step at a time.

The ache of letting go is the same flavor as that hungry deprivation that shaped my beginnings. I open my heart to that fear of going without, and ask for compassion for all the ways those feelings fit my once upon a time. Sitting here in this discomfort, letting myself soften to it and open, this messy sniffling redness is what healing looks like.

And now it is finally time to bid adieu, to fold each of these shopping triumphs into grocery sacks to donate to the YWCA shelter, where someone might actually turn an interview suit into a new chance at life: with independence, sanctuary, and a decent steady income. May every outfit become a miracle that brings fierce confidence and genuine relief.

Flying

"We are, each of us angels with only one wing; and we can only fly by embracing one another." ~ Luciano de Crescenzo

Is there anything as nourishing to the wilted spirit as a long conversation with a succulent friend? My heart is so marinated in the juiciness of that precious intimacy. All of the parts of me that had withered and browned in despair last month feel much more plump and pliable tonight.

It is such a simple pleasure to feel compassion for her suffering, to celebrate her victories, and to be gentle with her vulnerabilities. This gives me the hope that one day I will feel all of these things for myself with such natural ease. It gives me hope in everything.

I wish that everyone could spend four hours talking with their best friend this week, petting a happy kitty purring in their lap, splitting a Satsuma tangerine with each other, opening up that risky dark place in your soul and walking reverently through it together with little flashlights to find that there was just a dusty cobweb and some crunchy leaves, but nothing quite so icky after all.

May someone run their fingers through your hair with perfect love, tell you that they are proud of all your efforts, and reveal to you that your craziest thoughts and fears look perfectly normal to everyone around you from where they stand. May you have certainty that you are cherished. May you be given everything you need for healing. May you be so overwhelmed with gratitude that your heart cracks open a little. May you find yourself so inspired and uplifted that you discover you can fly.

Thankful

“If we take the time, no matter how crazy and troubled we feel, we can find something to be thankful for.” ~ Terry Lynn Taylor

~ Amazing kundalini yoga class with Roberto that always cracks my heart open
~ Going out for coffee and tea afterwards with my favorite dancers helps put it together again
~ Wonderful wall yoga class with Kirsten
~ Being adjusted lovingly in shavasana
~ Finding a lucky penny by my truck
~ Bunches of white bougainvillea hanging down over my parking space
~ Green apple sugarless gum
~ Hundreds of tiny leaves on my hood and windshield, blowing away like confetti
~ Getting caught up on all those orders waiting for me at Melodia’s by printing labels all Sunday afternoon
~ Writing thank you notes
~ Spinach salad with candied pecans, Gorgonzola cheese, and yummy basil dressing
~ New dance classes to help me move more just when I want to stay in bed and give up
~ A friend who wants to make me a dance bra just because she loves me
~ A day planner packed with amazing classes and events
~ New health insurance
~ Free prizes waiting for me to pick them up
~ An abundance of loot to give away: exercise bike, books, comics, movies
~ My favorite essential oil, Dragons Blood, is on the way with a kilogram of Nag Champa incense
~ Laser hair removal
~ Having a cell phone

Worlds better than moping in despair

I dragged myself to my weekly volunteer gig in spite of my irritation and doom, and then found out that they want to feature me in the Center's newsletter and the Gay and Lesbian Times as one of their most dedicated volunteers. Living my values makes others see me as valuable.

I went to a Halloween party this weekend even though I was disappointed by my costume, and collected love and hugs, feasted on snacks, and watched Betelgeuse with old friends. The people who have known me the longest see me as courageously transformed.

I made a new commitment to my creative dream of belly dancing, just as I am feeling more discouraged about it than I ever have. Stretching and sweating and pushing myself in my home practice, I found a new level of respect for my determination. I am beginning to see my creative energy as less of an indulgence and more of an absolute necessity that makes the world a better place.

Just as dance practices are being cut off for now, I have discovered that the dancers around me are as hungry for the staging of impromptu dance practices as I am. Even when I am floundering, I am surrounded by souls who know exactly how to keep my passions ignited with their own.

I went over to my friend’s house even though I felt crabby and sad and ugly. She waited until I was distracted, then she snuck up on me, grinning, made me pick one of her hands from behind her back, then flourished a gorgeous beaded medallion surrounded by peacock feather eyes embellished with sequins, and pinned it into my hair. My most beautiful and deserving friends see me beautiful and deserving.

Even though I was embarrassed about being too crazy and depressed to make it to my regular dance class, I went out to eat at Asian Bistro with my favorite students afterwards so I could get love and hugs and soup and laughter from my precious friends and bestow birthday blessings, too. My most inspiring and nourishing friends see me as inspiring and nourishing.

May we all find relief from suffering, and the courage to move towards our bliss. Brightest Sabbat blessings to you on this Pagan new year.

Car exhaust

This is me nineteen and a half years ago, tweaking out of my mind on crystal methamphetamine, exhausted after detailing my girlfriend Chrissy's VW bug for hours. This was actually one of the finest memories I have of my career in drug use. I was really happy here, and I think that shows. Things got much worse than this the less and less I slept. I went for weeks at a time without rest, insisting that sleep was for wimps and I could catch up when I was dead. My life and behavior became so degraded that I hit a total spiritual bankruptcy. I can't even imagine how many nights I tore apart my room looking for things that weren't really there or frozen in stark terror about some illusion I had conjured.

I was such a whacked out dope fiend, I would screw anyone over in any and every way possible to get more money for more of that chunky peanut butter crank. I don't know anyone now who would put up with that kind of disrespect from me. By the time I was stuck in rehab, I was so crazy that I thought I was being locked up in a Nazi facility that wanted to do creepy tests on me. It took three days for them to coax me into a strip search just so I could finally have a hospital bed. (I don't generally believe strangers who tell me everything will be fine if I just take off my clothes and cooperate; I've got a lot more feisty in me than that.)

Yesterday, I made it to my nineteenth anniversary of consecutive clean time off of drugs and alcohol. I have been working my ass off this whole time progressing on my healing journey. It has taken me to a place of abundance and gratitude I never would have believed possible then. The ways I share love in my life today are so completely different. I am not screwing anyone over to get what I need. I am finally becoming the kind of person who has always inspired me. And I have done it one tiny, risky, painful, shaky, weepy, terrifying, wonderful, miraculous micromovement at a time. I am so profoundly blessed to have my heart opening and unfolding this way as my feet find delicious foot holds for dance steps down this amazing path.

I turn to see how far I have come, and find that the view from here is truly breathtaking.

Flying solo

“To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.” ~ Emily Dickinson

How far back in time should I go to show you just how perfectly everything came together for my first solo belly dance performance last night? Maybe a week will be enough.

Last weekend, after encouraging pep talks with Sabrina, Sarah, Sooz, Raine, Melodia, and LaRa of Atash Maya, I had a chance to dance with the delicious lovelies at Gypsy Night. I feel so incredibly lucky every single time I move together with those extraordinarily talented and beautiful dancers. Much to the surprise of my internal critic, it doesn’t matter to anyone that I am not nearly as advanced in skill as they are. They want me to dance with them because they share my passionate love for tribal belly dancing and because they are such precious friends. When I babbled about my ineptitude, Laura pointed out to me that almost every dancer made little mistakes that night and just kept on going. Then she reminded me about how hard it was to present my paper at the Children’s Literature Association conference and how courageous it was for me to do that anyway. That is when I realized that I didn’t have to be trapped in fear like I was back then, and could just move towards all of the love that was waiting to carry me through.

Steven Eggers called on Monday night to tell me he knew I was scared about my performance and was coming over to help me with choreography. He’s not just a great friend, but also one of the brightest stars in tribal fusion belly dance today, and certainly a talented enough young teacher to break anything down into digestible morsels. I really respect his vision and his opinions, and felt deeply moved that he would walk me through the part of this journey that was so vague and unformed in my head.

We started with Laura asking what my favorite thing to dance was. I was so surprised by that question. I thought I had to come up with something original that would be profound and solemn enough to function as a sacred dance. I didn’t know that I could just pick my favorite combination. So I showed them a combo from my very first belly dance workshop, Susie Hall’s elegant Tribal Dev. When I got to the turn that always stumps me a little, Steven told me to cut it out of the performance. He assured me that it looked good to stop it right there in the middle and go on to calling the next quarter of the circle I was casting. It was so easy once I had permission to do what I loved best and only what I felt most comfortable with.

I volunteer every Tuesday to help bring the world a little closer to my dream. I also made time that afternoon to follow up on the lead Cassie gave me after her beautiful Temple Weavers sacred dance performance. I went to Meleah’s house to buy some liquid glitter liner so I could stop trying to paint glitter onto my face with spirit gum. It held up through my beginning and advanced tribal fusion belly dance classes that night. You can find it here www.meleah.com/glitter5.htm . Sabrina and Melodia even made time to practice with me after our classes that night, and my heart knew such sweet bliss that I was sure it couldn't get any better.

On Wednesday, Melodia asked me what I would be wearing for my dance. I told her that I was thrilled to be wearing my dream version of her glorious design, dark purple velvet Melodia pants. I hadn’t really thought past that part, since I didn’t have much more to work with. While I filled orders and did an inventory in her workshop, she pulled out costume pieces for me to try on. I was stunned as always at the generosity of my favorite fashion goddess. We decided on a purple fringe belt and coin bra she had created for her tour with the Bellydance Superstars, layered over a gorgeous belt designed by Elijah. At that point, I certainly thought that wearing an actual Bellydance Superstars costume would be the most outrageously unlikely blessing the universe had in store for me.

I luxuriated in a day of beauty on Thursday with Sabrina and Sooz. Sabrina illuminated my hair with violet mahogany while I extended the strap on the gorgeous coin bra Melodia loaned me. What a delight to spend the afternoon diving into topics like inspiration, intention, courage, healing, and love. I modeled my costume for them and got the feedback I needed about lowering my waistband and belts even if it revealed more of my belly. I didn’t know that showing the shape of my torso was more important than hiding that weird loose flap of belly that hangs down since I’ve lost so much weight. From there we went to practice, where I got more encouragement from the whole troupe and reviewed the Temple Dev combo with Sooz herself. Class was such bliss that night, and then I lucked into a creatively inspiring heart to heart with Sarah over tom kah gai.

Friday the thirteenth was the luckiest day of all. Atash Maya met up at the Kava Lounge to fawn over the royalty of tribal fusion belly dance, Rachel Brice and Mardi Love, at their performance set up by the lovely Heather Stants of Urban Tribal. I had been fantasizing about a purple fringe dance belt made by Mardi Love, but knew that they are rare and very hard to get. While I adored the dancers backstage, I found out that Mardi had actually made one just for me in a beautiful plum. When I tied that gorgeous creation onto my hips, I magically flew past that last giant barrier with impostor and clumsy and shame written on it and finally felt a perfect certainty that I was really and truly a belly dancer. They demanded a newly fringe-belted preview of my upcoming solo, and I danced it while I laughed out loud about how precious and bizarre it was to be performing my first solo piece for the Indigo. Then we all went out for sushi and giggled ourselves silly in a rare celebratory bout of Atash feistiness.

I assumed I would waste all of Saturday in a frantic tailspin, anxious and nauseated and stuck in bed depressed with worry, but I woke up completely in love with my creative dream instead. Sabrina called to invite me to start the day with our regular kundalini yoga class led by Roberto. We focused on the third chakra, on making possibilities into reality with our will. When we started to catch giggle fits from each other, our wonderful yogi encouraged us to laugh. Uplifted and strong, I came back to my dance teacher for the nourishment my spirit needed. Sabrina blessed me with a whole afternoon of loving kindness, preparing me for my debut by adding sparkly black strips and delicious eggplant purple yarn fringe to my new belt and tying matching eggplant yarn falls for my hair. In her belly dance sanctuary, she introduced me to her beautiful snakes, revealed the births of a hundred creative costuming projects, and finally picked out bindis for me to wear. I felt so loved and happy and grounded in her beautiful nest, and realized as I left with an armful of purple yarn that I was ready to take this leap.

Steven came over after work with purple dahlias he had taped and wired for me to wear in my hair. It was like getting a corsage on prom night - but completely unexpected - and broke my heart open with joy. He came back over a few hours later to apply my eye makeup for me since I had asked him about shading more successfully with black. We decided I should skip the beautiful Bellydance Superstars belt and just wear my new Mardi belt, and that Steven should wear that delicious Elijah belt. I tried to make everyone laugh by putting on all of my bracelets so they would tell me there were too many, but they told me it looked perfect. (How did I forget that there’s no such thing as too many bracelets in tribal belly dance?) When it was finally time to walk out the door and go to the venue, I had my very first moment of panic of the day. It was a big wave that crested and hit me square in the chest, so I braced myself and walked right into it. When fear came to visit, I didn't offer him his usual pride of place, but feigned disinterest until he left.

At the Egyptian Tea Room, I was thrilled to see my friends in and out of the belly dance community there to support me. I set up my altar and purified and blessed the space with incense and salt water. Heather Stants was there with the delicious dancers of Urban Tribal accompanied by the wonderful bliss of Miss Rachel Brice herself. In the back room, one of the performers led me through a grounding meditation to connect me with my body, the Goddess, the earth, and the intention of the evening. When I heard that Sabrina and Raine had arrived, I knew I was ready. Genevieve introduced the performance by describing the purpose of the evening of experimental dance. I was so fascinated with what she was saying that I hadn’t noticed I was in the outside doorway instead of the inside doorway, where I had visualized and practiced my entrance from all along. I couldn’t really walk through the performance space to the other entrance point, so I was a little thrown off when the drummers started the slow chiftatelli. Sabrina said something that brought me right back into the laughter of that morning, and the shameless sound of it was the perfect prayer to begin my sacred dance.

I moved into the room in a slow taqsim with my hands in prayer mudra at my heart, trying not to giggle. I closed my eyes and drew in breath, faced north and began to invoke the powers of earth. There was none of the familiar terror of being seen, there was no room for it when I was completely centered in my power. I was so happy to be lifting up this beautiful prayer in samsaya mudra to Goddess; I felt such perfect bliss calling in all of that energy in alapadma mudra. I turned to the east to invoke air and my shoes brought me back down a bit. I hadn’t expected to need them, and the turns were a little wobbly since I hadn’t practiced in them. But even the wobbly bits made me smile; moving from earth to air can be a fairly turbulent experience. I was so happy to have this perfectly human moment to remind me that life is messy. I repeated the dance for fire in the south and water in the west. The circle was cast, the drummers had reached a delicious crescendo, and I really still wanted to dance. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that I might want to stay and keep moving, so I didn’t have a plan. I found that blank that happens so often when it is my turn to lead, the wall that shoots up in front of my entire dance glossary so that I cannot see even a glimpse of what to do. So I taqsimed off in the direction I had entered, and it was beautiful.

There was nothing solitary about my solo, I was carried in on the hearts of everyone who loved me through, all the way up to the part where I spread my fledging wings and soared.