Farewell 2024, Greetings 2025
Photo from our performance in Bengaluru on Dec 24, ‘24. I have no idea who took that photo, let me know if you do, and I’ll credit them
At the start of last year, I was not expecting much movement from a dance perspective. Honestly, I was just trying to survive. Somehow, getting the acknowledgement that my grief and mental health challenges were real made them that much more dense. I would finish days in a blur of busy-ness but frustrated that I hadn’t the time to practice.
I could not have imagined the opportunities that were to come. As I look back, our students performed nearly every month. We did a major dance-drama production. We wrapped up the year with a tour to India (5 performances in a 10-day time frame)! It is absolutely surreal what this past year manifested, and my socials absolutely do not do the hardwork and effort and outcomes of the year any justice (resolution for 2025, maybe?)
It’s especially sobering when I consider the circumstances through which we were working . Every time I dared utter the phrase “that’s it - I’m maxed out, tapped out, can’t handle any more,” the universe took that as a challenge.
I don’t think I have it in me to re-hash the peculiar ways in which the past year unfolded (unraveled?), but I do want to take the time to write down the lessons I learned. Mostly for me, but maybe you’ll appreciate it too.
Find your reason to say yes
Between family health circumstances and the weight of grief and work commitments and young children, when we were considering whether we would be able to stage Nandanar Charitam in Richmond, we had so many reasons to say no. I had so many reasons to say no. But we found our one reason to say yes - this was a growth opportunity for our students, and for me.
Even with traveling to India in December (when, if anything, the family health circumstances were even harder than they were in June), it was the same calculus. We found our reasons to say yes. And once a commitment is made, it’s a matter of listing out what needs to be true to make it happen and making one’s way down that checklist.
It’s that simple. But it’s not at all easy. But we did it anyway. And I’m so glad.
Anchor your days
There were bad days. A lot of them. And many times, it was a battle against my own mind. It usually came down to the basics:
First line: food, water, meds as applicable, sleep. ‘nuff said.
I did not sleep in October. I barely made it to November. Once I started sleeping, a lot of other challenges became surmountable.
Second line: journaling, music, danceJournaling brings me clarity. It stops my thoughts from swirling and helps me connect dots. Music is a salve; playlists and albums and rhythms and melodies to help externalize intense emotions and sync my breath with.
I sleep better when I dance; I feel better after dance class
It’s come to the point where when my brain is spewing alarms that something is Not Right, I’m mostly learning to go to my basics checklist rather than react to whatever it considers as The Problem at the moment. Mostly. Which takes me to…
Listen to your body
I get a lot less done in a day now than I used to be able to. But also, I wonder, was I able to do a lot more, or was I running on fumes all these years and not realizing it? Sometimes, circumstances push us beyond our limits, but that really should not become the baseline.
The greatest gift someone gave me this year was my manager telling me “please take time off.” I took three weeks. It was a gamble - I didn’t know if it would even be paid, but I knew if she was telling me to take time off, it was coming through at work that I was falling apart at my seams. The first week, I slept. The second week, I cried. The third week, I remembered what it felt like to have my brain functioning.
I don’t want to experience that level of burnout again. I don’t know that I’ve done a good job to set myself up against it, considering that I was kicking off a whirlwind trip to India two weeks later, spending my anniversary, Christmas, and New Years away from my family. I am trying to take things slow since coming home.
I don’t know what my body’s “proper” level of productivity is; it’s a bit of trial and error, and a lot of grace when I’m upset at how much is left undone. There’s also the absolutely palpable toll of having lived the greater of part of two years “on-call” for the next medical emergency. I have less bandwidth to do things because a part of me is always bracing myself for the next crisis. This is the reality of the phase of life I’m in right now.I am learning to be okay with that. I’m learning what my body has been trying to tell me for years. And I’m learning that it’s perfectly okay if I haven’t fully maximized my productivity on a given day. What’s more important than maximizing productivity is to…
Lean into your community
I think most, if not all, monthly posts on Instagram refer to my village. Wonderful, beautiful souls who have dropped a text or answered one of my “so, I was driving…” phone calls, people who sent encouragement or shared a shoulder to lean on. People who’ve offered a hug, or turned a deaf ear to a particular acerbic tone from me.
I don’t feel comfortable taking up space - one of the earliest lessons I took away from the Confucian Singaporean education system was to make myself as small and unobtrusive as possible, and that has meant doom spirals after I’ve vented with a loved one about how I’m making things worst for them by sharing my troubles.
But on the other hand, life has felt that big and overwhelming, and therapy cannot be the only support system. Chosen family, mentors, tiny humans with big hearts, the occasional stranger with an encouraging word - they make such an immense difference. There’s so much love and light to tap into, if we just
Trust the universe
On one of my darkest days in 2023, Amma said vehemently to me, you have to believe that there is good in this universe. In that moment, I couldn’t see past my own hurt and grief, but the truth in those words has come up again and again, in September 2023 and in the months since.
I believe in serendipity. I believe that if the universe pulls you in a certain direction, it will unveil a path. Over the summer, I was asked if we would dance at the Kuchipudi Swarnotsavalu. I said yes, with absolutely no clue how it would come to be. On December 27th - my grandfather’s birthday - five of us presented his composition on Siddhendra Yogi in Kuchipudi village as part of the Swarnotsavalu. We could not have imagined this in 2003 when Tatayya first composed that song at Amma’s request. The day in 2021 when we were recording the audio for this song’s track, I certainly was not expecting that one day it would be ringing through Kuchipudi village. Yet, that’s exactly what happened. Ammavari anugraham.
Usually, I have the broad strokes figured out for the year ahead by this point, but right now, when it comes to 2025, there are things I hope come to fruition, and there’s a couple of dates penciled in, but it’s largely a blank canvas. I’m trusting the universe. I’m leaning into my community. I’m listening to my body. I’m anchoring my days with the things that replenish me. And, most importantly, for any opportunity that comes my way, I’m seeing what my reason is to say yes. I want to build on those things from the past year, as well.
In 2023, I read a book that was deeply revelatory - The Perfectionist’s Guide to Losing Control by Katherine Morgan Schafler. At a high level, it lays out different archetypes for perfectionists, and the way perfectionism can manifest in healthy and not-so-healthy ways. I’m incredibly demanding of myself, and of those around me. Inherently, that isn’t a bad thing, but I want to make sure I’m practicing perfectionism in healthy ways.
I’m going by memory right now, but crux is, perfection directed by fear is crippling, whereas perfectionism directed by curiosity is unleashing. Fear-based perfectionism focuses on controlling outcomes whereas the alternative allows for vulnerability and possibility. More importantly, my mind is a much more pleasant place to be when I’m leading from a place of curiosity than fear. When I’m leading from a place of fear, I deliver the same message more harshly. When I’m leading from a place of curiosity, my soft skills function better. Same (or better) outcomes, with a side of warm fuzzies.
It’s been a slow journey to better identify and redirect my more anxious tendencies and it’s been largely reactive this past year, realizing in retrospect as I rehash stressful encounters. For 2025, I want to practice grace. That means,
Give myself grace: Know I’m doing my best, and sometimes that falls short, and we’ll work through it
Allow others grace: Know that just because there’s a gap doesn’t mean they don’t care, and we’ll work through it
Assume others are allowing me grace: I have to assume that people are kind to let myself be vulnerable; I have to assume they’ve been in my shoes as well, and that they were allowed to work through things, so they’ll give me the same grace
It doesn’t mean relinquishing the pursuit of perfection. We’re performing artists. It’s necessary. Instead, it means breathing and pausing, and learning how to navigate situations with a kinder script. I know it’s not something that’ll come easy for me, but I hope you’ll hold me accountable if I slip - gently.
A few mantras that continue to buoy me:
Strong back, soft front, wild heart - Brené Brown
We can do hard things - Glennon Doyle
Hold your own, know your name, and go your own way and everything will be fine. - “Details in the Fabric,” Jason Mraz
Love and light 💙
