Reflections
Photo by Stephen Salpukas from Nruthyarchana, presented two weeks ago. The show’s still up on YouTube if you missed it.
This year has been a roller coaster personally, professionally, and artistically.
It seems especially apt to pour my swirling thoughts on paper today - on my half birthday, as I consider where I am in life and what it means to be 32-and-a-half, a white collar worker, wife of ten years (well, nine years and 352 days), mother of 2, dancer, etc. etc. etc..
Oh the numbers, the titles, the milestones. I’ve been thinking about those a lot this past year.
Unintentionally, but steadily, I marched through all the expected milestones with regimented discipline. High school grad at 18 (okay, I turned 18 like a two weeks after), fiancee, college graduate, an employee, and wife at 22 (that was a big year), mother and homeowner at 26, MA graduation and mother of 2 at 30 - a steady 4 year pulse of Checking Off The Boxes.
From a dance perspective, though, for many years, my own fears and self-censorship meant I didn’t give myself the grace and space it takes to grow and nurture art. But I’ve been working to right that, saying yes to opportunity, speaking up and sharing my voice, trusting my embodied knowledge and the validity of the knowledge entrusted upon me by my teachers.
At the same time, there was a steady rise in my professional trajectory - a reflection of my growth in responsibilities, I was told, and I unquestioningly accepted. This year has been the year to wander off The Right Path and instead, start figuring out My Right Path.
It looked like selling that beautiful home that I swore up and down that I’d live in until I died (where my children took their first steps, where we’d planted our fig tree and a vegetable garden, where I’d spent countless hours on my MA courses and COVID-confined virtual classes and performances, where I celebrated and mourned and savored quiet moments…).
It looked like reckoning with how imbalanced my life had become straddling my career, my dance, and my family life and walking away from The Job (the title, the mini-empire) to instead take children to the parks, nurse my weary self, and choose a new position at a place where my reputation wasn’t already established, where the title wasn’t as shiny or heavy, where I have to start anew.
Why?
For my children and my husband. For my sanity. For my dance. For me, my pride, my legacy, for what I Should Be Doing, who I Want To Be, for why I wake up in the morning and stay up late into the night. Who knows. Maybe this will all make more sense with the clarity of time.
And what does it mean for what comes next?
That’s not a question I want to answer by the numbers, I know that much.
I’m trying to be much more intentional in the next phase of my life in terms of my goals and how I spend my time. I’ve spent the last decade largely reacting to the wind, and still trying to cling onto some semblance of control by trading in sleep for personal projects. I don’t know that I can sustain that much longer, not without irreparable harm to my own health and relationships.
This week, I’m tracking time in 15 minute increments to understand, truly understand, what I do with my life. And how well that aligns with my life. (Well, at least I’ve made it most of the way through day 1.)
You see, I’ve been on a decade long journey to improve myself. Every year, around this time, I create a vision for how I’ll have my life in order by the same time next year and imagine this smarter, savvier me (who’s finally mastered the art of flawless kajal) and… it doesn’t happen. I haven’t magically become a yogi or a gym rat. The love handles and wrinkled thighs remain loyally. I haven’t unlocked the secret code to disable procrastination. (I’m currently typing this with my back turned from a mountain of laundry that may have as many clothes as my closet.) I feel like the same plainly dressed, disorganized high school girl with frizzy hair who exasperated my parents and teachers alike.
Yet, that’s not fair to the accomplishments I have completed (and I don’t mean The Checklist). I’m proud of my strengthening identity as a dancer, of the fact that I’ve kept writing here since 2018, of the podcast episodes I’ve put out in the world, of the conversations I’ve shared with my friends and loved ones. I’m proud of my relationship and the way we’ve grown together and supported one another for the entirety of our adult lives. And, I’m proud of the ways I’ve grown in my day job, the clarity in decision making and navigating grey spaces (titles be damned).
But I think, I’m most proud of the way I’m learning to be softer and kinder to myself, of muting the self-critical, cynical, bitter voice (that has undercut my achievements, amplified my fears and supposed failings, and warned me away from my dreams).
In the grand scheme of things, I don’t know what the future holds. But I know what I want for the next year.
I want to play with my kids more.
I want to be more vulnerable and honest and open about my work in dance and put it out there, for better or for worse.
I want to reset my current housing situation (don’t ask… )
I want to ignore The Right Path and wholly trust and invest in My Right Path, wherever it leads.
And I want to very, very strongly consider potentially maybe reducing the number of times I patronize the neighborhood Taco Bell. Maybe. But don’t hold me to that one.
I hope to be sharing more concrete works with you in the coming weeks and months. (I do want to properly reflect on Nruthyarchana). But first, a few days with my family and loved ones as we enjoy too many sweets, Christmas music, and welcome the new year.
However you choose to celebrate the passage of time, may you have a joyous trip around the sun ahead of you, and thank you for joining me on mine.
