Friday, August 22, 2008


It's been a long few days here at Dance New England, very busy, a fair bit of drama, and lots of hugs. One of the things that I enjoy the most besides actually dancing is watching the people here move. Tonight, just a bit ago a passel of our young adults, most who have been mostly raised coming to camp, came to the dance. This is a new thing.

The teens and those "raised" in DNE often skip our dance or come further into the event when the pull of the rest of world has stopped calling us adults weird or they realize this is not a place they have pull away from everyone five or more years older than them drops away. It's the first full day here and here they were. Dancing, laughing in a rough circle. Working up a sweat as Rob, who just the other day stated he has been coming since he was kicking in the womb (true!), whipped off his shirt. How cool - dancing that hard, the ease of removal no big deal. The music changed from a techno kind of piece into a number from the Nutcracker and what happened is what often occurs when such a piece is thrown in - as if it was choreographed people elegantly drifted in to a ring that circumnavigated the room. The young adults joined, everyone became part of a whole, the music lifting everyone into one mind but many bodies playing with the notes differently but still unified in a directional flow.

Whoops and applause followed. As the music turned bluesy, a rich and thick rendition of the classic Summertime by Gershwin. It was beautiful but I had to write this image before it was gone, not erased but overlaid with the next hundred beautiful moments that could happen before I might write again. I started another entry two days that still has not seen the light of blog. It is after 2am and bed would make sense, but a stop at the dining hall might beckon, or perhaps not.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Little things can make all the difference

Catching up on Twitter this morning (I started this post days ago!)and found this was written on Sunday , (so glad I didn't miss this - made my sleepy rainy morning):

Sarah Sloane fortryll I swear @dharmawrites is one of the coolest people ever. Too bad Dayton OH is so far from DC!

Sunday, August 10, 2008

The other shoe does drop

Recently I had hoped Apollo the Magnificent counted as the third in the deaths that touched my life. TGF said she thought a feline didn't count, though I hoped it would. Over a week ago my best friend (human companion of Apollo) lost his father, after a long illness. I have met Greg's parents a number of times over our 20+ years of friendship. We have had many a long conversation about our relationships with our parents - the joys and challenges. His dad was not young, having just recently celebrated his 88th birthday, but still losing a parent is losing a person who has always been there.

Another friend and I were talking about setting boundaries with our parents and she said that doing so would wipe out the hope of something different. I suggested that it could also be viewed as opening a new door in the relationship. Many years ago I set very specific boundaries with my father and in turn, I now realize, it completely shifted our relationship. As I distanced myself and laid sharp, short boundaries in terms of time together, in some ways I got the father I had wanted as a child - one who spoke of missing me, of being proud of me, he became more expressive of his feeling towards me.

For a long time I muttered that it too little too late. That is still true in many ways. However I am learning to be grateful for the small pieces of the dream father that he is able to give me. I still yearn for that close relationship some of my friends have and I suspect I will always. We never stop wanting on some level the magical parent that we never will have. But once they die, we have less. We have a closure whether we want it or not, they can no longer change, once gone there is no way anyone but ourselves can fill that space that begs more still more. Only we can do the work that accepts, not loves, but accepts what we have in our parents.

Several years ago my father was in the hospital and the doctors where having a hard time stabilizing him. In the shower before a harried drive from Massachusetts to New York I sobbed; not because I was afraid of losing him but because I had no idea how I felt. Many years before I practically prayed for his death so I would not have to deal with him, in youthful foolish thinking that if he was gone my work would be done. Standing under the spray I realized that if he died, it would not mean that he would not continue to shape who was was, it would not mean all my issues with him would die as well. I realized over the course of the next few days that I had more control in how I handled the wounds, not him. I learned I would mourn him, I might even miss him but I would rally just fine and I would keep working on making peace for me.

Well that's what I say now. When it happens I may laugh remembering this post and my hubris about what I can handle. In truth we don't know how we will handle the loss of a parent. We can ponder, imagine, and hope; but there is no surety in these theoretical ponderings.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

In which our heroine indulged in a fantasy

Now, now, get your minds out of the gutter. Well this time anyway {grin}.
I went to get my hair cut, going back to this lovely Aveda salon (a big treat) for a trim and brow job (again, read carefully without your mind in the red light district, for now).

I had debated forgoing this extravagant foray but my bangs grow so damn fast and I'm heading out of town and, well as Glamour Girl says - I'm vain and shallow. Most of these folks I only see once a year, if I'm lucky, so I want to try to look decent.

This is a new salon in a complex that is only partially built, mostly empty, that bills itself as a live/work complex in the relative countryside of Clayton. Near the salon is a large cafe that was empty both times so I have no idea how it stays in business.

Anyway, last time I sauntered over and bought a flavored latte to go, something I don't usually get. Today I strolled over, deciding to sit a bit and flip through a magazine while I sipped my vanilla nut latte and nibbled a chocolate chip cookie.

So how is this event, getting a haircut a fantasy? When I go there, I imagine that I am a lady of leisure, getting just a little primped because it's my standard appointment, versus the one where I the full service: a massage, a facial and who knows what else. Oh, maybe getting my gray hair colored! In my fantasy it's just the first stop of a day that includes drifting hither and yon, shopping, browsing, meeting friend for lunch before heading home to browse expensive catalogs, check my email which is bursting with witty notes and invitations to wonderful parties.

In reality my splurge with tip came to less than just the haircut would cost me in Berkeley. In truth I came home to walk the dog; finish ripping up carpeting, tact strips, and staples off my hall stairs- working up quite the sweat; doing my push-up program (more on that later); tending to animals, ignoring laundry and working on Dance New England. Glamour my ass.

See? Total fantasy.

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

It's been forever

I swear I haven't forgotten about this space I just have been busy, distracted, and tired. So here are some tidbits.

Remember I was bemoaning my friendship status in California? Well Jennie and Liz threw me (and Glamour Girl who was in town for an interview) a potluck. Did I mention that? I should have and I'm too cranked to go back and see if I did already.

There was a huge yarn stash sale up in Englewood and I got an awesome haul of haul for practically nothing. Enough for three adult sweaters, a ton of accessories, and a shawl. Plus I have been doing some knitting and hope to knock out a bunch of stuff in the next few weeks. Pictures of things later.

I have been continuing to work out sporadically which is a good thing (more on that later, another post probably). However my arm is still messed up from when Wyatt pulled me down back in April. Not fun!

Still reading more than I have in years, still not enough for my ideals (same with knitting and a million other things) but progressing nonetheless. More on this later too hopefully.

I leave for the east coast for Dance New England in less than two weeks and my to do list is enormous.

The big news is we adopted a new kitten, or rather he claimed us. We were walking Wyatt on the Green almost three weeks ago and heard this pitiful crying. Stopped and bounding across the street comes this little guy who runs up to Wyatt and rubs his face. Yeah, we are suckers. His name is Casey.

He adores Wyatt and Marcelle almost lo
oks like she could be his mama. Atticus also plays with him.

So that's the super quick and brief update. There's been a ton in my head and I have been a very bad blogger but I hope to change that soon.