On Saturday morning, I received a call, requesting that I be a pallbearer at the funeral.  I can see myself in my bedroom, kneeling in front of my closet, looking for something.  I don’t remember what I was looking for – I may not have even known at the time.  Knowing myself, I was probably doing anything I could to distract myself from what I was feeling.  I learned at a very young age that emotions were bad.  But I had not lost someone close to me before that.  I was feeling intense emotions, and there was a part of me that somehow knew that those emotions were normal.  Unfortunately, that part of me was not strong enough, and it got locked away on that day

As I was looking in my closet, my mom came to my door.  She asked me something – I think it was along the lines of, ‘Are you ok?’.  Whatever she asked, I couldn’t answer.  My emotions were too strong, and I just started crying.  Looking back, I know that my mom didn’t know what to say or do, but I have never gotten the visual of that day out of my head.  When I started crying, my mom said, ‘I’m sorry.’  Then she turned and walked away.  What I needed in that moment was for someone to hug me, but what I got was the solidified message that emotions were not ok.  I locked that part of me away in a box that day.  Every time I would start to, or even thought there was a possibility of, feeling emotion, I would see my mom walking away.  I would not allow that to happen again.  I learned on that day, if I wanted to be accepted, I could not show emotion.  I became very good at disconnecting myself from any emotion.

Last week, I realized Jesus had been holding onto that box since that day; just waiting for me to be ready to open it again.  It’s been almost 20 years, and I have learned so much about myself and about truth, but I still had intense fear about opening that box.  All I could see was the only end result I knew – someone walking away.  I wasn’t sure I could go there.  But with a little help from my friends, I was able to open the box.  I reconnected with a large piece of myself that night, but the thought of destroying the box has been almost as difficult as opening it. There is a large part of me that wants to keep the box.

That moment I locked away my emotions – that moment my mom walked away – what I needed most was just a hug.  Over the last few years, a big part of my journey has been about connecting with my emotions.  One of my biggest struggles – other than just being so used to disconnecting – is that I don’t want to connect alone.  When I’ve come close to connecting, I’ve found that I hit a wall because I am alone.  I can’t completely process through most things because I don’t have a lot of options when I need to talk about something, and there isn’t anyone there to just hug me.  It makes connecting with my emotions very isolating.  If I destroy the box, how do I deal with all of what that connects me with by myself?  Because that is part of why they got locked up in the first place – there was no one there to help me through them.  I’ve been realizing why it’s been easier for me to believe the lies.  If the lies aren’t there, I have to connect with the emotions, and that can be really sucky.  But it’s worse because I feel like I have to go there alone.  At least if I have the box, I can put some things in there until I’m ready to handle them.  If I destroy the box, I’m afraid that I won’t be able to handle everything on my own, and I won’t have anywhere to put anything.

I fully realize that fear plays a part in that, as well as the lies that I am still holding onto.  But another part is the reality of my situation.  At the end of the day, I go home alone.  When I need to talk through something or need the human connection, I most often have to place those things on the back burner and hope that I will eventually have the opportunity to fully process through them.  So, for now, I try to sit with those emotions – and then trust that if I destroy the box, I will be ok.  Because I know that the box represents boundaries, and if I let go of the box, I will have the world.  Wish it were as easy a choice as it sounds…

A few months ago, I wrote about needing to remember (Dancing Out Of The Box).  Throughout my journey, I have discovered that there were parts of me that were trapped in a box.  It was a box created for safety, but it had turned into a prison.  I realized that I needed to find those parts of myself and destroy the box.  Over the last month, I’ve been able to rescue a big part of myself from that box.  I don’t really remember when that box was built, but I’m starting to ‘remember’ myself.  I have never felt more like my true self – have never felt more alive – than I do right now.  I am starting to not only see and accept who God created me to be, but I’m finding that I can look in the mirror and like what I see for the first time in my life.

In the last year, I have found myself becoming more and more comfortable in my own skin.  I’ve learned so much about myself, and about how fear has controlled my life.  I have been able to let go of so many of the lies that I’ve believed for so long.  I have discovered (or rather, uncovered) strength and beauty in the last place I ever thought I would – inside me.  My own perception of myself – and the perception I always believed everyone else had of me – has drastically changed.  In some ways, it has been a very quick, recent change; but it has also been a lifelong journey.  There is so much that has happened in the last month, and a part of me wishes that it had happened sooner.  But I also know that I would never have been ready for it until now.  Each of my experiences to this point – both good and bad – have been needed for me to be me.  Throughout the last five years or so, I’ve felt like I’ve been in a pit that I just couldn’t get out of.  A friend recently used that picture in a way that perfectly describes where I’m at right now.  She said, ‘It kind of puts all of that dark time into perspective…it forced you to keep stepping up every time a shovel full of dirt got thrown down on you.’  It’s such a perfect analogy.  Each time I felt like more dirt was being thrown in the pit, I kept feeling like the purpose was to bury me.  But I used each shovel full of dirt to step up a little closer to the top of the pit.  Eventually, I had stepped up far enough that I could step out of the pit.  I finally feel like I’m out of that pit, and it’s a great place to be.

Of course, I’m still not quite where I want to be.  Though I’ve connected with lost parts of myself, there is still a big part of me that is in the box.  Growing up, I was taught that emotions were bad.  Showing any sort of emotion was a sign of weakness.  I learned at a very young age to bury my emotions.  They have been locked in that box for a very long time.  It’s gotten harder in the last few years to truly disconnect from my emotions, but I am still very much in control.  I know that I need to give up that control and allow the emotions out of the box.  Negative emotions are really what I wanted to avoid for a long time.  I didn’t want to feel pain.  But I’ve realized that the positive emotions got buried as well.  I block out pleasure, joy, and love just as much as the pain and sorrow.  In order to truly connect with the positive, I also have to connect with the negative.  I have to take the good with the bad.  It all makes perfect sense to me, but I’m finding it difficult to go there – to allow myself to be vulnerable instead of always having to be in control.

But like the other parts of me that I’ve found recently, I have to remember.  Remember those emotions – good and bad – that I have locked in that box.  Emotions are a part of all of us.  Without that part of me, I cannot see the whole picture of who I am – who God created me to be.  He wants me to see who He sees.  I have to remember how it feels to open that box and reconnect with a part of me.  I have to remember how to open the box…

At first I was afraid;  I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side
But now I’ve spent so many nights thinking how you’ve done me wrong
And I am strong;  I’m learning how to carry on
And now you’re scared;  You’ve lost your place
I just walked away and you’re here to pull me back into that space
I should have walked so long ago;  I should have cut your ties to me
If I had known for just one second, how great life could truly be

So, Fear, go – Walk out the door
Just turn around now, cuz you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to bind me with a lie
You thought I’d crumble;  You hoped I’d lay down and die
Oh, no, not I;  I will survive
Oh, as long as I know I am free, I know that I will thrive
I’ve got all my life to live
I’ve got all my love to give
And I’ll survive;  I will survive

It took all the strength I had not to fall apart
Kept trying hard to find the pieces of my broken heart
And I spent oh so many nights just feeling sorry for myself
I used to cry, but now I hold my head up high
And you see me; somebody new
I’m not that chained up little person still enslaved to you
And so you keep on telling lies and just expect me to believe
Now I’m learning how to stand up for the truth which sets me free

So, Fear, go – Walk out the door
Just turn around now, cuz you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to bind me with a lie
You thought I’d crumble;  You hoped I’d lay down and die
Oh, no, not I;  I will survive
Oh, as long as I know I am free, I know that I will thrive
I’ve got all my life to live
I’ve got all my love to give
And I’ll survive;  I will survive

It has been an amazing month.  For years now, I have been on a journey of self discovery.  In the last month, I have finally connected to parts of myself that have been lost for a very long time.  I have discovered so much of who I am – the song of my soul.

In connecting with those pieces of myself, I have found that I have much less need for fear and anxiety.  I haven’t completely parted ways with them, but I am finding that my instinctual reaction to them is changing.  For as long as I can remember, I have allowed fear and anxiety to dictate my actions and responses.  On many occasions, they have stopped me from pursuing what I want and need.  But, not any more.

When fear and anxiety have shown up lately, I have found myself taking a deep breath, and saying, “No, I enjoy this, and I know I’m capable.”  I have experienced so many new things this past month.  ‘Enjoying the journey’ is looking pretty good right now.

I have also let go of my need to live up to other people’s expectations.  I have discovered that the cost of living in that space is just too high.  I want to experience the value of living my life to the fullest – to follow my heart.  I have realized that God wants that for my life, and I have been the only person stopping me from experiencing that.  It is my life.  It is my choice.

I choose freedom.  I choose wholeness.  I choose to listen to the song of my soul.  It is a beautiful sound.

Over the last couple of years, a big part of my journey has been about letting go of the need to always see the ‘big picture’ and learning to enjoy the journey.  I realized today that my focus in certain areas of my life has been on the big picture.  On Monday, God brought up an unexpected topic that I needed to deal with.  My initial response was, “That’s what you want to talk about?!?  You could have given me a heads up so I could prepare…”.  His response was, “I’ve been trying for a while now…”.  Let’s just say that I didn’t really have a response for that.

Through a very rough morning of processing, I realized a few things.  First, I am the only person stopping me from doing what I want to do.  Growing up, I was taught a lot of things, and a lot of things were expected of me that prevented me from being who I really am and pursuing what I wanted.  But, now…I have a solid family presence, and some great support.  There is no one placing unreasonable expectations on me (except for maybe, me…).  Actually, I have people in my life who are helping me realize who I really am – whether they know it or not.  If I am not where I want to be, it is only because I am stopping myself.

The second thing is that I have things that I desire in my heart, and God has been asking me why I’m waiting to pursue them.  He let me hide behind my fears for a little while, but then challenged me this morning to be honest with myself.  Not only am I allowing fear to dictate my choices, but I am choosing to not go through open doors because I don’t see how they will get me to where I want to go.  That was a big part of what I learned when I left my job last year – to take action, even when it doesn’t make sense.  I’ve apparently, temporarily, forgotten that lesson.

God has been showing me open doors in certain areas of my life for a while now.  I’ve been saying, “But I want ‘this’.  How is going through that door going to help?”  Today, He said, “Go through the door and find out.  Maybe it takes you a step closer to where you want to be.  Maybe it shows you something you didn’t know you wanted or needed.  Or, maybe, it will be something enjoyable.  Not everything has to have a purpose or take you closer to your destination.  Enjoy the journey.”

So…I am consciously choosing to go through the doors that are currently open.  At least one of them is a door that I have been wanting to go through for a while now.  I just wouldn’t allow myself because I didn’t think I should want to go through that door.  But the door is wide open, and God is asking why I’m choosing not to go through it.  It has taken some wrestling to get past some of my initial fears, but I am choosing to go through the door.  I have no expectations.  I am going to enjoy the journey.

What do you want?

What’s stopping you?

I’ve spent my life trying to live up to everyone’s expectations.  If you asked me, ‘What do you want (to do)?’, my response would be something along the lines of, ‘Whatever you want (to do).’  I was sometimes called a ‘people pleaser’, but that never felt like it truly fit.  I’m starting to realize that doing and being what everyone else expected was completely based in fear.  I’ve been afraid that who I truly am is not good enough.  I thought that who everyone else expected me to be had to be better than who I really was.  I’ve thought that for a very long time – as long as I can remember.  Now, I’m 36, and I’m trying to strip away all of those expectations so I can see who I really am.  That’s the first answer to the first question – I want to be myself.  The answer to the second question – Fear.  There is still fear that who I really am is not good enough.

In so many areas of my life, I’m being asked, ‘What do you want?’  It is my first instinct to do what will make things easier for everyone else.  I tend to ask, ‘What do other people want/need?’  I tend to put myself last.  Sometimes, that’s a good quality, but sometimes the motivation behind it makes it a weakness.  I often put myself last because I don’t believe that I deserve what I want.

There are two main areas in which these questions and fears are showing themselves in pronounced ways.  One is work, and the other is relationships.  I won’t go into to detail, but I have a very strong desire in both areas, and fear is playing a big role in how I am responding to those desires.

I don’t believe I deserve what I want.  I am afraid to believe otherwise.  I’m afraid to hope.  I’m afraid to trust – myself or anyone else.  I’m afraid of being hurt.

I wonder what it would be like to not be driven by fear.  I actually fear what that might look like.  I am captivated by and, at times, addicted to fear.

I think that might be what ‘jumping in’ is about.  I don’t think that fear will just disappear, but I think the more that I ‘jump in’, the less fear will control me.  So I want to look for opportunities to ‘jump in’.  And maybe that starts with defining and expressing what I want and taking steps toward those things, realizing that it may not look like I expect.  And accepting that I don’t have to take on the expectations and judgments of others.

I’m sitting at the Seahorse exhibit at the aquarium.  I walked around the aquarium this morning, taking everything in.  After seeing each exhibit, I left to have lunch and walk around Cannery Row.  Now I’m back at the aquarium and completely drawn to the seahorses.  I’m sure people think I’m strange as I sit and write in front of the little screen that’s playing a short little vignette of the seahorse mating dance.  But I’m used to that assessment – and usually agree.  I suppose I could say that this was one of the few places I could sit comfortably for long enough to write (wooden benches are not the best choice for my back), but I know that something else has brought me back to this spot.

Each display in this section talks about the dance of the seahorse.  As a dancer, it is very cool to just watch the graceful movements of the seahorse.  It is calming, comfortable, recognizable, relational – all conducive to creativity and processing.  When I process through things, it can bring together the two sides of myself that, at times, can (and have) seem polar opposites – the creative and the analytical sides of me.  I have only recently learned that the two can coexist, and am even more recently learning how to utilize both sides.  I came back here to write because writing allows me to creatively analyze what’s going on in my head.

What do I need to remember?  What do I need to understand, to know?  What do I need to let go of so I can fully trust – myself, God, and others?

Dance has always been a huge part of my life – of who I am.  There has always been a part of me that only shows up when I dance – a vulnerability, a freedom, a knowledge/belief in who I am and that I’m ok.  As I watch the seahorses dance, I know that I need to allow that part of me to show up more often – to not hide that part away.  This trip has not been exactly what I expected, but I’m getting used to that.  Instead of trying to stick to what I wanted or thought this trip would be, I’m going to go wherever I feel led and explore – myself and the world around me.

What would it look like to be free more than just when I am dancing?  What would it look like to do what I want and/or need without taking on the expectations and judgments of others?  It’s amazing how many areas of my life those questions pertain to.  So as I watch the seahorses dance, I contemplate how I can ‘dance’ in my everyday life.

Life has been crazy in the last few months.  Work was really busy, and little things would come up in the evenings and weekends.  It was all good, and I’ve enjoyed where I’ve been and what I’ve been learning, but I’ve found myself in survival mode.  I haven’t been taking much time to recharge and tend to my introverted side – or process through what has been coming up in my head.  So, I’m sitting on a bench next to the beach in Monterey – technically Seaside – about a block and a half from my hotel thinking, “What better place could there be to think about one of the bigger thoughts running through my head?  The fresh air, the awesome view, the perfect weather, the…water.”  Yes, the water.  As I look back over the last few months, I realize that in what felt like survival mode, I never pulled myself out of the water – and I haven’t drown.  I can’t say that I learned to float – relaxing is still a concept outside the boundaries of my conscious mind – but I haven’t drown, and I let myself stay in the water.  That is a huge win for me.  Of course, as I sit and think about that victory, I simultaneously think about the next lesson.  Are you ready to jump in?  If you read In Over My Head, you know how I feel about ‘jumping in’.  I have some ideas of what ‘jumping in’ might look like – where that might come into play in my life in the near future.  But as I look out at the water, I know that figuring out how, when, where, or why I’ll be jumping in is not what’s important right now.  I’m being asked, first, to remember, and then to prepare – which mostly means trust.

I can look back in my life and see times that I ‘jumped in’ – some small, some not so small.  But they all seemed ‘safe’ because I trusted that I was not jumping in alone.  I’m being asked to remember – to recognize – those times and allow that trust to permeate more of my life.  Those times of jumping in have come fairly spread out throughout my life.  The in between time has been filled with fear and anxiety.  My goal is more trust and less anxiety.  As I look back over the last year, I see how much progress I’ve made toward that goal.  From leaving my job, to going back to the same job, to having very little anxiety regarding my living situation when the people I rent from put the house up for sale.  I have recognized the absence of anxiety, who has had me in a stranglehold most of my life – a stranglehold that I’ve come to accept, expect, and even rely upon as stability and known.  Even something that seems so simple as my three and a half hour drive here is a step toward my goal.  Usually, a drive like that would cause me a huge amount of anxiety.  I don’t really like to drive, I have a fear of getting lost, and my back hurts when I drive longer than about 45 minutes (on a good day).  But I printed the directions, loaded up my car, and started driving yesterday.  Normally, with all the anxiety, I’d be trashed by the time I got to where I was going.  This drive, however, was different.  I had a couple of quick bouts with anxiety, but when I got to my room, I got settled and then took a nice walk.  I was totally relaxed and ready to go exploring.  If you don’t know me well, it’s very hard to explain what a big deal that was.  I finally feel like I might be winning the battle.  I think that’s a big part of why I needed to take this trip – to recognize how far I’ve come and trust that I have everything I need to continue to fight – and to win – this battle.  So I will remember in order to prepare for what may be coming…

If you know me at all, you will know that I love to dance.  I started taking lessons when I was three, and I started teaching when I was 16.  For a large portion of my life, it was my world.  On many days, it was literally the only reason I got out of bed.  Without dance, I’m sure I would not be here today.

Over the years, dance has changed for me.  I now have more reasons to get out of bed, but I still feel most alive when I dance.  I will admit that there were points in my life when dance was an idol for me.  I remember the moment that changed.  I was in Russia, and I was dancing during one of our day camps.  The song was Mercy Me’s ‘I Can Only Imagine’.  During the song, everyone else in the room disappeared, and for the first time, I was dancing with God.  After that, I realized that God had given me this gift, and all I wanted to do was share it – with Him and for Him.

I’ve realized recently that dance needs to change for me again.  Not the how, or the where, or what it means to me; but some of the why – some of the motivation behind my dancing.

I love the song ‘Hotel California’ by the Eagles.  There’s so much in that song that resonates with me – and I realize some of that may not make any sense to anyone else, but that’s okay.  There’s a line in the song that has been poking and prodding me recently.  ‘Some dance to remember.  Some dance to forget.’  I have always loved that line, but it’s hitting me a little differently right now.

Growing up, and even into my adult years, dance was the one place that I could escape.  I felt like I belonged there, and the rest of the world would just go away.  I connected with myself in a way I never could outside the dance world.  And even after dance changed for me, it was still the best way to connect with my true self – especially my emotions – and to connect with God.  I could forget about everything else and just be.  It was a wonderful feeling.  But I’m realizing that ‘forgetting’ was a big motivation for me to dance.  I truly danced to forget.  Forget the pain.  Forget the rejection.  Forget the anxiety.  At the time, it’s exactly what I needed.  I wouldn’t have survived any other way.  The problem is, in that process over so many years, I forgot me.

There’s a little girl who is trapped right now because dance was the only freedom she knew.  But because she was dancing to forget, she never got to fully experience life.  She never knew that she was really okay.  She wanted to forget all the bad stuff, but she forgot all the good stuff too.  Going through that crap made her stronger and taught her so much, but she doesn’t remember that part because she never got to leave the box she was trapped in.  She dances inside the box, but there’s not enough room to dance freely.  She’s scared to come out of the box, though, because she doesn’t want to feel all the crap again.  She tried so hard to forget, but it’s imperative that she remembers.  Only then can she fully experience the ‘good’.  When she forgot, I lost parts of myself.  I need her to remember.

So, now, I must dance to remember.  To remember truth.  To remember freedom.  To remember me.  I know that I will only find them through dance.  Only dance will help me remember what I need in order to heal the wounded little girl and help us truly dance.

1 – I’ve danced into a set wall during a performance
2 – I played Barney Rubble (complete 35 pound character costume) for a grand opening at our mall while I was in college
3 – I started teaching dance when I was 16
4 – My favorite color is Purple.  My second favorite color is Gray.
5 – My favorite sports teams are the Chicago Cubs, Chicago Bears, and Iowa Hawkeyes
6 – Other than corn, I prefer eating my vegetables raw
7 – I’ve seen Barry Manilow in concert – yes, I’m a fan
8 – The best pizza is Pete’s Hawaiian Luau
9 – I can’t draw
10 – My favorite holiday is Christmas
11 – I am a night owl
12 – When I lived in Russia, a five year old told me I was as dumb as a cat
13 – My mom was pregnant with me when she married my dad (and I only know that because it’s a simple math equation)
14 – My favorite vacations were the two cruises I went on
15 – I recently locked my keys in the car – the first time I’ve ever done that
16 – My favorite restaurant is Texas Roadhouse
17 – I walked to and from school everyday from the time I was in first grade until I was in high school
18 – I started wearing glasses when I was ten (needed them before that, but refused to get them)
19 – Some foods that people are surprised I like – mushrooms, calamari, escargot
20 – I’ve had three jobs in my life – dance teacher, nanny, and my current job at Blue Shield
21 – I am competitive
22 – I find it highly attractive if a guy is willing to dance (regardless of his abilities)
23 – I’ve choreographed 14 musicals, performed in 2, produced 1, and was a dance captain for another
24 – I graduated high school fifth in a class of 400 with a 3.97 GPA (and that was with skipping about a quarter of my senior year)
25 – I collect playing cards from the places I visit
26 – I love board and card games
27 – I played softball from second through eighth grades
28 – Best scents – lavender; fresh chocolate chip cookies; mint; a turkey in the oven
29 – I’ve ice skated once – spent more time on my rear than on my feet
30 – I am addicted to soda (Dr. Pepper, in particular)
31 – I have never, nor do I ever wish to ski
32 – My favorite book as a child was The Secret Garden
33 – I am one of the most extreme introverts you will ever meet
34 – I am almost always cold
35 – I love socks (and they have to match what I’m wearing)
36 – I broke my right arm when I was six – the only bone I’ve broken
37 – My favorite nuts are cashews
38 – I like to paint (walls)
39 – I’ve played Duck, Duck, Goose around a table in the middle of a restaurant
40 – I can’t sing
41 – I hate to run.  I love to walk.
42 – I never had braces, but I did wear a retainer for six months.  One of my top teeth was too far back
43 – The taste of coffee is disgusting to me
44 – I love Amazon and Ebay.  I do most of my gift shopping on one of those two sites.
45 – I don’t like walking barefoot – I need to have flip flops/shoes, socks or slippers on
46 – I love to read
47 – I’ve gone out to eat with friends as Snow White and the Seven Dwarves
48 – I love garage sales (mostly setting up and running them)
49 – I love Goofey
50 – Am still amazed that I voluntarily walked away from my job and was able to go back two months later