Namaskaram.

I love dance. I love words. I'm trying to figure out my way through life better utilizing both. Join me on my journey here!  

Spread joy.

Spread joy.

It’s been a trying few days (weeks… months…) in many different ways. This week hit me especially hard, for several different reasons. I’ve been pushing to remain positive, mainly by being productive. Dance has been a place of solace, when I’m able to steal a few moments for it. This is the first Navaratri in several years where I’m not in daily rehearsals or attending programs, and I didn’t realize how much of a joy that was.

I lapsed in posting daily clips of dance for Navaratri, mostly because I’ve been stuck on a single verse: “Jaalamelanamma? chaala ninnu nammitimi. Leelalella joopemaa paali daiva neevegaa.” I’ve been dancing for myself, though, because how else am I going to keep sane?

Last night, I heard the news that a friend passed away. I didn’t know him that well, but he was someone who could light up every room he walked into, and he made everyone feel precious and loved, whether they were close friends or acquaintances whose paths crossed from time to time (like I was). He loved to dance. He was the embodiment of joy. He was 31.

I know his family and friends are hurting right now. I’m hurting, and I keep thinking - you never know when you’re meeting someone for the last time. Thanks to John, while I have never been good about taking photos, I do have a photo of the last time we hung out. It was around the holidays last year. A few of us met up for dinner, and ended up at my place for board games. With the familiarity he always brings, he asked for a tour of our home, and oohed and aahed at my dance studio. We talked a bit about dance, talked a bunch about board games. (His whole-hearted endorsement was the reason Bertel went out the next day and purchased Wingspan, which has been a source of enjoyment for us in the months since.) John insisted on a selfie of our group before we all dispersed.

I had already resigned myself to the fact that the holidays this year aren’t going to be the same, and that I won’t be seeing the faces I do see every year. But I wasn’t expecting this.

What I want to do is hide in bed all day and hold my family close. But I think I’ll try and muster the energy to dance. And I think I’ll try and bring joy and positivity into interactions I have with people, because you never know when you’re saying goodbye.

Rest easy, John Crowley. I hope you’re dancing on the other side.

Update 12/5 - John’s Celebration of Life was held today. He died of heart complications this October that were a result of a COVID-19 infection he had last December, back when none of us knew anything about it. He was 31, he went hiking and taught dance/ fitness classes just in the last week of his life. He touched so many lives and brought hundreds of people so much joy. I wish he’d been given decades more life to continue to do the same.

This virus is insidious. Please take public health guidelines seriously. Social distance. Wear a mask if you absolutely have to go out - but honestly, if you’re in a position where you don’t need to, don’t. We are in a time when technology can erase distance with an internet connection - use it. It’s better to be safe and see your loved ones in person once we’re on the other side of this nightmare, than to meet for a virtual memorial.

On a more positive note, this is was one of the many joyous videos that were shared today of John dancing.

A Remembrance

A Remembrance

Lessons learned from a summer of conversations

Lessons learned from a summer of conversations