How old are you now?

I had another blog lined up to share, but a dear friend asked me to post something regarding a conversation we had surrounding age and old thinking habits.  So, this is for Kathy and for anyone else who has ever found themselves acting like a juvenile when they are 30 (or 40, or 50, or 70!).

I'm 33 going on 34.  But this past weekend I found myself feeling 14!  And, not in a good way.  If I took an objective snap shot of myself at 14, things would look pretty good. I was tall, slender, talented, smart, accomplished, well spoken. . .  and horribly insecure.  I just wanted to feel pretty. I just wanted to feel smart. I wanted people to gush over how wonderful I was.  (Man, this is embarrassing to admit).  I wanted to be the best, and I wanted to feel like the best.  I wanted to feel like enough.  But of course. . . I didn't.

So, on Sunday I hosted a preview of my dance company's newest show "Dance Adventures in Stripes and Dots" in order to get feedback from a small test audience and see how the show worked as a whole.  The evening went well.  People enjoyed the dancing. I was able to actually perform (last year I was injured, and I really haven't danced that hard for 2 years!). It was a success.  And, my 34 year old brain new that.  I knew that it was a huge deal that I was able to dance fully for the 55 minute show and not end up crippled in back pain!  This was great!

And, yet.  It wasn't enough.  

The 14 year old inside me was not satisfied.  I wanted people to gush over me! I wanted to feel amazing and beautiful! Instead I felt insecure.  I wanted overwhelming praise, and I wanted it now.

Knowing something in our head doesn't made it easier to know it in our heart. The only way I know to process through these moments of old thinking is to feel them fully, to feel them in a way that I didn't let myself feel them when I was younger.  And, then get to the root and dig it out.

In my case, I want people to praise me because I want proof that "I am good enough." I wanted people to tell me I amazed them so I could feel like I had met my goal and accomplished my dream.  But, of course the reality is that no matter how good I am, the 14 year old belief set won't let me believe it.  Somehow at that point in my life I had already convinced myself that only praise from others was going to convince me that I was good enough.  I don't know exactly how I arrived at that conclusion (that part doesn't really matter), but the reality of those feeling were there.   

And they will continue to live inside me until I change my 14 year old way of thinking and feeling.  Until I believe I am enough (pretty enough, talented enough, creative enough) I will continue to encounter the irrational thinking of the 14 year old girl.

So, I get to start on the path by first confessing here in public that this is going on.  It isn't pretty, and it isn't fun, but it is honest.  And, by sharing this truth it demystifies it for my nervous system and its grasp on me loosens just a touch.   This is where my 34 brain gets to help me out. My 34 year old self gets to watch with love and compassion as my 14 year old comes barreling into the picture unannounced.  I will observe myself, see the hurt, fear and grief that I experienced before (as irrational as it seems now) and let it dissolve.  The grip will loosen a little with each moment, with each encounter, and, once I own that I am good enough, it will disappear all together.

But, I can't rush the process. I can't intellectualize my way out of it. I can't stuff it back into the closet or sweep it under the rug and expect change.  I get to own my story (as embarrassing as it is at times), and heal.

Beth

Boom! . . . Flat on my back. . .

Well, in my last blog, I was my own personal champion for diving into the creative experience. And, I took the leap. . . and ended flat on my back. Literally.

Just as I was getting excited, ready to do the work!

I spent 3 days in bed with a horrible SI (Low back) injury, that kept me completely immobilized and out of work. Three whole days! I have never (ever in my 10 years of teaching) had to take 3 consecutive days off of work because of illness or injury.  It was a first, and it was hard for me to swallow.

The first day, I was ok. I thought to myself "This is what it feels like to take care of myself. I can totally do this."  The second day I said, "Well one more day won't be too bad, different classes will be missed. And, I just have to." Day three:  "What is wrong with me? Three days?  Oh no! What is everyone going to think?"

In many ways that sense of guilt hurt far more than the level 10 pain in my back.   I worried that people were going to think all sorts of ugly negative things about me.  I tortured myself about it for the entire time I was laying on my back, too injured to even hold up a book.  I was certain that people were going to think that I wasn't trying hard enough to heal.  That I wasn't being responsible and "pushing through" as truly motivated and reliable people do. 

But, this was of course all in my head. The reality was I couldn't stand up or sit without intense pain.  The reality was that no matter what anyone was thinking, I was physically unable to teach for three days.  But, I couldn't let go of it.  I was convinced of my doom and gloom as a professional dance instructor. 

But, by the end of that third day of rest, I was finally able to stand without muscle spasm.  On day four I gingerly went to teach, and everyone smiled, glad to see me, asked how I was feeling, expressed just how worried they were for me. One student even gave me a little Mexican incantation to help me heal.  People weren't upset with me for being injured, they were compassionate. Far more compassionate than I was to myself. 

A week later from the initial grab of injury. I am still healing, my pain has moved from a level 10 at the peaks to more of a constant 4.  It still requires me to lay down and rest my back for long periods of the day, allowing the muscles to undo and the joint to heal.  But now, I don't feel guilty taking that time to rest and heal.  I am comforted by the reminder that people have shown me compassion and support. It is my job to honor them by showing the same gentle nurturing to myself.  It doesn't have to be selfish; it doesn't have to be hurried.  As Soto Zen Buddhist Susuki Roshi said, it is just "Things as it is." 

And, I am worthy of healing just as I am. 

So are you. 


(PS The incorrect subject verb agreement in Susuki Roshi's quote is intentional. As a Budhhist he saw the multiplicity of the world as just aspects of everything as one. No duality. Hence we see plural, but the nature is singular. . . Pretty cool stuff).

Last Birthday in my Year to Live

Yes! I am 33!

And, I am still working through my Year to Live reflective practice loosely based on Stephen Levine's book.  

I am roughly on day 186.  Officially at the half way point week. And, it just so happens it is also my birthday.  Yikes.  That is a lot to take in.  

So, I asked myself what I want to do for my "last" birthday, and I decided I want to make a dance for myself.  A solo made for me right here and now, reflective of this time and place in my life. And, this time and place is not perfect as far as a dancer is concerned.

I have been working with a back injury for that past year.  I have had a history of back issues as I have blogged about in the past (see About the Back and How to Heal), but this one has been the same injury (on and off again-- but mostly on) for the past year.  Only recently, when I began a new mind body practice called CFR, have I started addressing the nature of my injury and the consequences of my habitual patterns.  It has been an eye opening journey.  

The cyclical history of my injury is such that I haven't created a dance for myself in a long time.  I create pieces for others, and I have created dances in which I also perform as part of the ensemble (often in a limited way), but I haven't created something just for myself in over a year.  And, primarily because of my back injury.  Every time I made an effort to create something or to "get back into shape," I would reinjure myself. This was the cycle.  So, I basically stopped making dances for me.  

This year to live has reminded me that I should not wait for "complete healing" or "getting back into fighting shape"  or "until I am able to recapture my lost technique."  I can't wait.  

The challenge is accepting the fact that this solo won't look like my former solos. It can't because my former solos in fact what lead me to injury (not them exactly but the former choices surrounding their creation).  Also, I won't look like I did in my former solos.  I have a different shape than I did before this sequence of injuries.  Those are the facts.  

The movement can't be the same. I am not the same.  Whatever ever types of movement and choreographic sequences I made before are basically out of the question now.  I can't wow people with my extension or leaps. I won't be able to roll and get up with speed or force.  I have to make different choices. I have to make the effort to break the injurious habits and form new patterns in my way of moving, in my way of working and most importantly in my way of thinking. 

I need to make a dance that will serve me now.  One I can perform now.  And, I have to trust that I can enjoy a dance created under these circumstances.  And, it can be worthy of being performed for an audience.  It is strangely scary. Like I am choreographing for the first time.  

But, this needs to be my birthday gift to myself.  Because in my Year to Live this is my last birthday, and it can't wait.  

Dancing on,
Beth

Does physical pain dictate your life? - Notes on CFR Therapy

My chronic back injury (on and off for my adult life) has played a huge role in my quality of life and the shaping of my choices.  At 32 years old, going on 33, I am sooooo ready to allow my back to NOT be a deciding factor in the way I shape my life.

As a dance instructor, choreographer, dancer, the injuries in their many forms have been hard psychologically as well as physically.  How do I do what I do when I can't move?  Of course, we all live with things.  Some people have addictions, some people fight their weight, some fight anxiety or depression, some are faced with learning disabilities or family obligations.  The point is we all have "stuff" to deal with, and mine has most recently been my back pain.

I had been going to a chiropractor whom I really like and who has been very helpful in relieving my acute symptoms (immediate horrible pain).  But, I wanted to explore something else.  What if the pain never returned? What if my "back issues" became a non-thing?  

Enter CFR. . .

I was referred by my chiropractor to a physical therapist who practices a technique called Cortical Field Re-education or CFR.  It is a method of very, very simple movement explorations as a means of waking up the entire body to its movement potential.  It focuses on the point of initiation and then the sequential paths to an action.  In my case my entire mid and upper torso was frozen and shut down.  My brain had shut off its awareness and sensation of the entire area in order to protect it at some point.  Thus, my low back has been working overtime to compensate. Poor lower back! You were just trying to help me out!

After the first session I had, I felt completely disoriented and had a lot of discomfort and some pain in my low back, but I also noticed my mid back for the first time in years.  I could feel the slightest twisting as I walked.  My brain was waking up to my body.

I went into my second session in acute pain.  I made the personal commitment that I would not trigger my symptoms for the duration of the 1 1/2 hour lesson.  I moved VERY slowly and very small.  But, at the end of the session, I was symptom free.  Meaning I could walk, sit and lie down without symptoms-- if I was careful and didn't follow old patterns of overuse. This is when CFR hooked me.

The third session was a continued exploration of what I could do and how I could move without pain.  I found it so interesting and rewarding to move my body with the single goal of being pain free.  I am so trained from dance to "do the movement right" that I felt great relief in being able to move without performance expectations.

My most recent CFR experience was just on Saturday.  It was a day-long intensive (8 hours). We worked through incredible twists, and shoulder openings and circles of the ribcage and pelvis.  My midback was howling by the end.  It was like I woke a monster that had been locked up for ages.  The pain is not terrible, but the soreness is real and surprisingly deep, not the type you get from doing too many reps at the gym.  It feels like I have wrung out the deepest and most subtle muscles possible.  And, my low back is doing quite well.  So. . .

I'm sticking with it.  Because, I want to know what it is like to make my life decisions without the chatter of my back telling me what I can and can't do. 

If you are interested in more of the scientific and nitty gritty info on CFR you can go to this general website.  But I prefer my practitioner's website which I found very informative and easy to follow. 

Denying the LIfe That Is - 287 Days Left

Of course, I remember the past 2 weeks. I actually did a lot! It involved Thanksgiving turkey, rehearsals, getting a cold, rainy days, and grading papers among other things.

But, this is my year to live! And, yesterday I had to come to terms with that fact that while I was living I had forgotten to rip off two weeks worth of days from my Year to Live Calendar!  2 weeks! Fourteen days! Gone. 

I could have ripped them off all together and been done with it. I mean, I had been busy. I thought to myself:  It was the holidays, I got sick, I was distracted, my back was injured.  . .

True, but that is not the point.  I didn't rip them off all at once in a stack.

I ripped them off one by one. Counting out 14 days of missed life. 

But, I was living! Wasn't I??

Well, yes and no. I realized that while I was busy "living" and enduring colds, tough dental work appointments and an injury to my low back, I had forgotten to take note of each passing day, and I had let 2 weeks go by in a blink! I had been so good about ripping the pages off daily.  I needed to figure out what had changed.  Was I just because I was busier and more challenged? 

No.  

I realized that these past two weeks, starting with a re-aggravated lower back, I was denying the life that is.  My life.

I was closing myself off (and losing days of my life) because I didn't like that I was "living" a life of pain.  Better to ignore the whole thing, right?

No.

There will always be issues, there will always be pain. I was in denial of my current state of living and in so doing I was denying my life as a whole.  Yet, as much as I know pain is a part of human life, going through days in pain is not easy.  Intellectual understanding of pain doesn't make the pain go away.  And, no amount of wishing it would heal faster will make it heal faster. 

But seeing the white pages of the calendar dropping in the trash one by one was a wake up call that time will still pass whether I acknowledge it or not.  So, if I am going to enjoy this "Year to Live" I need to wake up and not let an injury or a cold wipe away my days.  

I see now that, somewhere in my brain I thought that not taking off the calendar sheets on these pain filled days would somehow magically make the world stop spinning and the days stop passing.  But, that is not how time works.  Back pain or no, today is the only thing that matters.  I have to make the most of it (whatever that means to me today). So tonight when I rip off the date and watch number 287 float into the trash bin, I can feel good about my efforts to experience it all.