And trying to make them graceful. In classical piano it was called phrasing, and I excelled at it. It was where I could put all my excess enthusiasm and emotion without being labelled "crazy" by linear society. No, I was an artiste who could make the piano weep, as Mom always proudly shouted from the kitchen.
As you know from my resistance to the passing of my cat Calliope, life transitions knot my stomach into little clenched baby fists, stabbing at my innards. Not so fun.
Mom is in the middle of one right now, spiritually deciding should she stay or should she go. As hard as Nurse Sis and I have fought to keep her on the planet, maybe she's done here. It's up to her, and I fully acknowledge the last two months (at least) have not been the lifestyle she was sticking around to enjoy and participate in.
If there's one thing I learned about Calliope, it's that I clung on too long. I'm not going to make that mistake with Mom. I'm here to support her either way. Even if she stays, it will be a transition for her from who she was just six months ago, to accepting a much different lifestyle and body to inhabit.
At S Factor this week I had what they call a "Breakthrough Dance." Because of summer vacations it was a teensy tiny class, and everyone had to leave at the end before I danced. So my amazing teacher Kathleen stayed to let me dance first pole/lap dance for her. I chose this extremely soulful, sad, lyrical remake of "Wild Horses" by Charlotte Martin. Go download it from
iTunes; it's shattering. Anyway, for the first time I was able to dance alone without pacing myself to the other students...and everything clicked. More specifically, the transitions between each section of the routine felt like pulling warm taffy.
And I don't think I've ever walked into the pole tricks better. To misquote Oprah, I WAS GONE. I haven't felt that comfortable and carefree in my body since I was a teenager in ballet. It was so spiritual. Kathleen was so supportive and excited. I think that she was most impressed by how sloooow I was...I doubled a three minute routine, and wasn't even winded at the end (the next song came on and she growled "Keep going!"). She said I danced like a fourth level student, and that it was so unbelievably sexy. Which is bizarre to hear, but cool. Learning to accept the applause and the "You're gorgeous"es from other women in this revolution of ours. Learning to become addicted to the female support and Woman's Code of Honor.
I kept telling myself I wasn't going to buy my own pole until I dropped fifteen pounds...Eff that. I think I just earned my pole.
But I shouldn't get too cocky yet. Next week we learn the pole climb. Week after that...UPSIDE DOWN. I'm shaking in my feminist Cinderella stilletos.
From Sheila this week: "We teach women to move into their bodies and their curve and away from the linear. We teach women to have no more apology in their body. We teach women to celebrate and find the joyful in their movement."
Jesus, the radio station is actually playing New Kids on the Block. Talk about a BAD transition. It's sooooo bad, my ears are burning. For better music, check out my iTunes playlist S Factor Slow: id=437606