Lesson of the day

Today's lesson in Assembly, was the value of saying 'Thank you'.

Whatever it was, whether it was finishing off the chores on time, helping unload the shopping, working well as a team, saying thank you had a positive effect on the recipient(s).

I could see some of the children sitting that little bit taller today, full of pride, being that much better behaved and beaming from ear to ear.

It was a children's version of a motivational seminar.

More please!

Moment of transition

I walked into the theatre, wondering what I would find.  This was the very edge of the London fringe, the Pleasance Theatre, a small but very interesting venue.  "Return to Silence" is a multi-award winning 'fire-cracker' of a devised performance piece weaving dance, live video and piano score.  To summarise, when neurologist Dr.Jill Bolte Taylor wakes up one morning and realises she is suffering from a stroke, she is given the extraordinary opportunity to study her own brain from the inside.   As she revisits old case studies her perception of the world changes irreversibly.  As an interactive piece of theatre, the audience are wheeled around the auditorium, they are given glimpses of the mystery and beauty of the human brain.  

As we were waiting for the performance to start, I noticed that there were two people writing on the back of the wagon or truck that my seat was on.  I was curious about what they were doing but assumed that I would find out in good time.

What I was unprepared for was the emotion that this piece would draw out of me.  The main character discusses and explains how it appears from the inside when having a stroke.  She asks whether this is her 'moment of transition' and she realises that she is no longer in control of the choreography of her life. 
We are given abridged versions of the definitions of various neurological medical conditions, such as Parkinsons and Periodic Limb Movement Disorder, to name but a couple.  A few years ago, I experienced the process of Parkinsons when a dear family friend went through, eventually dying about 18 months ago.  But more recently, I listened to DC talk about his mother and her many strokes.  Watching Return to Silence has given me some small insight into what she might be experiencing.  A clever use of the human voice made for some amazing sound effects, while the use of movement, along with the piano made for an emotionally charged hour, leaving me with tears stinging my eyes.

It was absolutely brilliant and left me meandering through my many residual thoughts.
This was the very final performance - wow!

Bliss

It's that moment when you're so absorbed by what you're doing that you lose yourself in the 'zone'.  Time evaporates, escaping with a sweep of an arm or a flick of a wrist.

And so it was that I found myself watching episode 4 of Grey's Anatomy Season 7, a perennial favourite of mine, in which a young man has cancer in his lower leg.

His only obvious option was to have his leg amputated.

To him, this was not an option.

Karev had no idea what this would mean to the boy, until he watched him dance.  He improvised contemporary ballet, with such joy and sadness, his body conveyed hope.  His face showed his emotion and the bliss showed through.  There was optimism.

After a certain amount of research, an alternative possibility was found.  Remove the bone, put it through chemo and replace it back into the leg.

When he asked Karev what he would do, Karev said that if it were his arm and he were faced with not being able to operate again, then yes, he would have the surgery.
I can remember the feeling of anguish and pain when I broke my L2, the muscle spasms made it impossible for me to lie down or relax.  It felt as if my back would never be the same again and I did wonder if I would have the luxury of dancing or if that was it.  Thankfully with time, I was able to heal to some degree but not fully regain all my flexibility or strength.

For me, it is so easy to lose myself when dancing.  Sometimes it is purely spontaneous.  Music isn't necessarily needed or required.  The motion comes from within.  It is the emotion that erupts through my limbs.  It ripples down my spine, causing me to pas de chat or pirouette, to fall to the ground in a pleading.  It is that feeling of muscle play, of suspension in the air, holding on until the last minute.  It is the expression that gets released, happiness or sadness.

But all this is nothing without an able body.  The mere thought of not being able to move, is abhorrent to me.  To be incapacitated is not an option.

I am grateful daily for the ability to move and be moved, whether professionally or not, this is my utopia, my Shrangri-La, an Elysian Field for my mind, giving me a sense of bliss and an innate sense of freedom.

A lyrical pose

This photo amazes me, looks like the tree is dancing!

Personal choice

The choosing of a direction is a personal choice.

Having the ability to follow two parallel paths that converge periodically.

Maneuvering and manipulating time to create necessary space.

Essentially, life becomes a juggling act.

Over time it ultimately becomes routine.

Thus allowing it to flow with ease.

pas de temps

Sadly, there simply aren't enough hours in the day to give in to it.

And so it happened

The thing that I had most wished for happened.

It has been 3 months since we last saw each other and tonight DC walked into the dance hall and stood there. It took me a minute to realise that he was actually here or rather there.

We talked, admitting that we were both finding it hard to not to touch.

Both his sister and mother are not doing well.

His time is not his own.

After a while, we walked upstairs.

He couldn't stay as he had to drive back up north, again.

To say that it was hard to let go is an understatement.

We both found it hard to separate.

I know that I sounded emotional and he could hear it when I spoke.

And his kiss confused me more than I can say.

I have no idea when I'm going to see him next.

Tonight threw me, my balance went, again.

And I know that once again, it will only be a matter of time before my balance returns.

But for now, as Simply Red once sang, "I'm holding back the tears...."

4 days in

It's the January 4th.  A new year.  2011.

Am I stating the obvious?

Well it may seem obvious, but it all seems a bit surreal to me.

Time is moving at a rapid rate and what was new to me a few months ago, is not longer so new.

I've almost finished with my first semester of university and yes, I am still enjoying it.

The work load is much less than I expected, but then there are no work placements until next year, so we do have some free time.  This first year is to ease all us new students in gently, so that we don't go into shock straight away.

I have 3 pieces of work due in next week.  One for Wednesday and two for Thursday.  I have so far managed to do two of them, but still have a major one to do - the longest.  I spent most of yesterday hunched over my laptop, sitting at my desk typing and reading.  Researching facts and references to back up what I had written - fun!

Actually it is really interesting.  It's amazing what following a lead can lead to. 
So I shall have another couple of hours this afternoon to do some more work.  My amazing friend is finally here.  She and her boys moved into a place around the corner from me and my child is loving it.  She is taking all the children for a romp in the woods this afternoon.
Getting back to the beginning of this post, it is a new year and hopefully a time for new things.
New beginnings in so many ways.