So You Think You Can…WHAT!?

I hate watching the television programs GLEE and SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE, yet when they are on, I somehow find myself in front of the tv.

Exactly where I need to be.

I love the energy of GLEE. It’s like watching a piece of musical theatre every week (Did you see the take-off of Madonna’s song, Vogue? Hilarious! Youtube it).

I love the sheer beauty of SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE. The way those young dancers move their bodies in partnership with each other and the music moves me to tears on a weekly basis.

I hate those stinkin’ shows, and I love them. I laugh, and I cry with each viewing because the fun and beauty fill me with joy while the ache they generate inside makes me sad (because I am not a part of it).

I ache for that little girl who gave up her joy of dancing and singing because she felt fat, ugly, and untalented, like she didn’t belong there, and, worse, that she never would.

I gave up on a little girl dream that I did not even realize I had.

Growing up, I felt the same way I did in my typically too small clothes…constricted. I wanted to see and experience more. When I was in the 6th grade, I discovered this thing called “college.” It immediately became my ticket out, and I worked very hard for the next six years to board that train to a bigger more exciting life.

I lived with blinders on. I was purposeful and charged up by higher education to be sure. It “turned me on” as we used to say in the day, but I denied huge parts of myself to stay on that train.

My son’s father is an extremely gifted musician and composer. Honest to God, he sits at his piano and He (God that is) comes out of his hands. I left that relationship after 25 years because I refused to continue to carry the burden of providing for the family. I admit; my own insecurities fueled most of my over-responsibility, but I also did it because I believed (and still do) in my son’s dad’s off-the-charts talents.

I eventually started to resent that he was unable to make any kind of living and pretty much refused to “find a real job.” I, on the other hand, would have thrown my dreams away in a New York minute (because I had had such good practice) in order to put my own dreams on the back burner and go clean toilets if necessary.

He refused to do that.

It pissed me off big time because he was not contributing his share to the relationship and our little family (which was partially his responsibility after all).

And it pissed me off that I so easily assumed more than my share.

It further pissed me was that he actually had the integrity, the intention, and the sheer stubbornness to pursue his calling no matter what.

But what really pissed me off the most was that I had to admit that I admired the sheer ferocity of his commitment.

And I didn’t have the kind of ferocity, or couldn’t find it, or was afraid to look for it.

We made an interesting pair.

I was obsessed with sacrificing my own desires and needs for acknowledgment as pretty and talented and deserving enough to belong in this song and dance troop called life. I did it through 3 Master’s degrees, multiple jobs (at the same time), and taking care of everyone and everything. I, and I alone, held the family afloat. Applause please.

And he was obsessed with sacrificing his marriage and his son in service to his single minded determination to silence his demons. He did it through creating amazingly beautiful, rich, and soul-resonating music. Applause please.

On the surface we both thought that we were “doing the right thing” for ourselves and our family. After all, we were both fully engaging our God given talents, skills, capacities, and qualities.

But the thing is, it wasn’t necessarily about what choices we made, it was about why we made those choices. It wasn’t about what we did, it was about where we were centered in ourselves when we decided to do it.

We were living out of fear and I am convinced that is the reason that we, individually and as a couple, crashed and burned. Our full out embracing of who we were came from an effort to keep our worst fears about ourselves at bay.

Neither of us made heart/soul decisions to release, without agenda or result, a beautiful contribution to the evolution of the world.

So what does this mean for me now? I am going to be 59 in two days and, once in a while, I admit, I fall into that cultural idea of being too old to pursue my dreams.

However, when I am centered in my heart of hearts I have the courage to share with you that my 8 year old and I are currently WOWING them on the Salsa dance floor… and singing lessons are not far behind.

So I think I can…WHAT!?

So I know I can…well, do just about anything that calls to my heart and soul…that’s WHAT.