Dreaming in Choreography

If you know me from my post-high school days, there is something you may not know about me. I LOVE to dance. You may have heard me mention dance parties in my car, or my apartment or... the grocery store but my love for dance is much more than that. It's more than country, or Latin dancing or even hittin' up the club. It's one of the few things in the world that really makes me feel alive. 

My family began to get dragged to my performances beginning when I was only 3. It started with clogging and expanded into several different genres as the years grew on. Dad used to say it made him tired just watching me but I'll forever be grateful to my parents for giving me the opportunities to dance and their continuing support.We didn't have a lot, monetarily, growing up so I remember when my dad said we didn't have the money for me to take dance lessons and private violin lessons and invited me to choose, there was no contest. 

Dancing with the dance company in Jr. High and High School only fueled my passion and although I definitely wasn't the prettiest or most popular girl in school nor even close to the "best" dancer, when I danced it was like nothing else in the world mattered. Even through hours of rehearsal and feet that were battered and blistered I felt like nothing could touch me, like I was in a different sphere. That world only grew when I was introduced to the subconscious world of dance; choreography. While some kids were daydreaming about what they'd do after class, or that weekend, I was dreaming in choreography.

I began choreographing dances for shows in Jr. High and High School and discovered that choreography was the way for me to dance 24-7. Even when my feet weren't even touching the floor, I could still leap and turn through space.  I remember choreographing a solo for a dance final and had a friend of mine tell me it was so moving that it made them emotional. That's the magic about dance, it can invoke feelings in you you didn't even know you could feel. If you feel it as a dancer, it's not difficult to portray that to an audience. For me, dancing is the ultimate form of expression. It's the most beautiful art form there is, maybe that's why it makes me feel so alive. 

If I were stuck on a desert island and could only take 3 things, one of those things would be a stereo. I would be content to be shut in a room with nothing but a stereo trying to dance out the visions trapped in my mind. At my desk at work, or anywhere where I hear music, I see choreography, I feel choreography. Sometimes, I get so lost to the point where I am extremely distracted, that is when I have to close my eyes and let the choreography dance through my mind. I picture the different steps, how it flows, the scene and everything down to the number of dancers and what they would be wearing.  Sometimes I just turn on some music, lie in the middle of my floor and dream about choreography. For me, it's the ultimate therapy.

Post high school, I was strongly discouraged from continuing in the course of dance. I was told it was impractical, I was starting "too late" to think about any career in dance, and in particular that I didn't have the body-type for dancing. While some of these things are the hard truth, my biggest mistake was that I listened to these people to the point where I withdrew from dance declaring it to be an impossibility somehow. Despite everything I felt about myself and my talents, I let someone who didn't know me at all determine what I could and couldn't do. 

I continue to have a deep appreciation for dance and yes, I'm the girl that gets teary in every episode of So You Think You Can Dance because those dancers are incredible. Each dancer tells a different story through the eyes of their choreographers whose visions are painted on the stage transcending the limits of television reaching the audience farther than the stage. That is the beauty of dance.

Even though I "don't dance anymore", I still dream, and when I dream, I dream in choreography. These are dreams nobody can take away kept safe in my subconscious. In what time and space I can find, but most often in my dreams, I imagine routines that may never be seen but I do it because it makes me feel alive. Perhaps it is my subconscious's way of doing what my body no longer can, still allowing my spirit to soar. 

Whatever it is that allows me to dream so beautifully, I know the day I stop dreaming, will be the day I die. 

Home

I recently had to confront some rough emotions, for a few reasons, but mostly because of a dormant realization of what home is.

As much as Provo was not my favorite place to live, I still made it home. I lived in a little rust-colored house with a few other girls, most of whom became like family to me. Despite the things that went on outside the walls of our home, within the walls, we knew we were home. We had dance parties, many late night chats and all-nighters. This house holds deep within it's walls much of our laughter and many of our tears.

It was our house.

I recently went back to our house. I'll admit, I was a little nervous to visit the place where I had grown so much, the place that held so many memories. I walked through the front door only to realize the place in my heart that always overwhelmed me with the feeling of home, was empty. I wanted to cry. The empty space only grew as I walked from room to room afraid to admit to myself this was no longer my home. It didn't look like home anymore, and it definitely didn't feel like home. I didn't realize I would be so consumed by this feeling, and as much as I wanted it back, it was already gone.

As I spoke with the only "original roommate" who remains in the house, I realized what had caused the void I felt. Although she still lived there everyone else was gone. I realized the house could have changed the paint color, the siding or the furniture, but as long as we were all still there, it would've still been home because it's not what makes up a house, but WHO lives there that really makes it home.

I think this is a lesson everyone must learn for themselves. For some, it may take only a short time, for others it might take years. Legend has it that when I was very small (and adorable) my mom took my brother and I to New Zealand. The original plan was to stay there and visit Grandma for a couple months. Dad couldn't come because that would've been a lot of work to miss. It didn't take too long for my mom to realize, although her family was all in New Zealand, she had married my father and made a life with him. That's when my mom knew home was really where he was. Although I had heard this story before, it took walking through the doors of my little rust-colored house again to realize the concept of home for myself.

It's still hard to think about it, but the tears on my keyboard are only because of the memories that house holds which will forever remain in our hearts. Here are just a few memories and facts:

• All those who are currently (or will be soon) married, fell in love while living in our house!
• Speaking of love, I bet there are still specks of chocolate pudding somewhere in our kitchen which was part of Su-Z and Taylor's love story!
• That epic Halloween party and other awesome dance parties
  
• Christmas tree shopping
  
• S'mores in the wood burning stove
• The garden Janae and I planted
• That one time we ninja-attacked Nelson
  
• Harry Potter midnight showing
• The naming of "The Bumblebee House"
• The time we kidnapped Ginnie from the library at midnight.
• The Elmo piñata
• Our reenactment of the Nativity
• THE LIST COULD GO ON!

Ginnie made a video to thank people for being part of her "good life" and it still makes me tear up. (I hope she doesn't mind me sharing) I'm not so great with media, but I do alright with words so to all of you out there who have been part of my life THANK YOU. You mean more to me than you may know. I am happy to know I have little pieces of my heart scattered all over the world because you have all taken a piece of me with you. Thank you for helping me learn the true meaning of home and until I can find myself a permanent home, I am grateful I have a place I can call home wherever you are. Thanks for loving me and for letting me into your HOME. (and thanks for reading!)

A Wet Game of Fetch: The Beginning of my Phone Issues

I have previously written about my on-and-off again relationship with technology. Well, here is another one to add to the archive, only, this time... it wasn't technology's fault. 

The following events are true and suitable for people of all ages who might need a good laugh or a place to put their pity. Names have not been changed.

Once upon a time, I was dog-sitting for my brother and SIL while they were enjoying some California sun. Their dog, Oakley is one of the most adorable dogs you will ever see...

See? I wasn't kidding. (She's actually quite a bit bigger and stronger now.) 

Anyway, there is this great dog park she loves to go to in Millcreek. I highly recommend it, it's kind of like heaven, for dogs. Oakley loves being able to run off-leash to fetch her ball and at the end of the trail, there is a big pond she loves to swim in. Naturally, any good auntie would take her to one of her favorite places, so off we went. 

After all the excitement of the ride, we had arrived. As usual, Oakley took me for walk, pulling me toward the off-leash area and then finally, she was free! I threw her ball and she darted after it. She trotted back to me with her ball safely clenched in her mouth until she returned, placing that ball at my feet. However, Oakley was in a sporting mood and quickly snatched the ball again before I could pick it up-- such a tease. Then off she ran again. This continued after each time I had somehow regained control of the ball. Normally, this is nothing more than a little obnoxious, but this particular day, things were different. 

One thing I should point out is that besides the pond at the end of the trail, there is also a creek running along the trail...

We had probably walked a little less than 3/4 of the way to the pond when I threw Oakley's ball and she ran after it. She continued her aforementioned behavior and ran to the edge of the trailside and set her ball down. The ball rolled slightly and fell down the short hill like PLINKO on The Price is Right bouncing right into the creek. Oakley isn't afraid of water, so I told her, in my mom voice "Well why are you looking at me? Go get your ball!" It wasn't long before I could see her pacing accompanied by the sound of her whine, so climbed down the rocks to investigate. As I approached Oakley I looked into the creek and saw her ball had become stuck in a little dam. I also realized the water in that spot looked too deep, and the current too strong and I didn't want Oakley to get in just to retrieve a ball. The nanny in me thought "Oh well. Your fault that you didn't bring the ball to me, and now it's gone. Lost forever and now you'll have to just do without." Then I looked at that adorable face and quickly caved. 

Foolishly, I looked at the ball and thought although it was more than an arms-length from me, I could reach it with the ball thrower (because sometimes I think I'm Wonder Woman). I reached for the ball and, to my amazement I had it! However, as the saying goes, pride cometh before the fall. As I tried to shift my weight back to land on the shore the log I stood on broke free from its resting place (not so great for the self-esteem) and before I knew it I was completely submerged. 

The current was strong and it reminded me of the time I had almost drowned at a ward campout as a child when Kim Bradshaw had to save me (I always seem to need rescuing). I knew I was bigger and stronger now and tried all I could to get out, but when I took a step toward the shore I lost my flip-flop. I reached down to feel if it was stuck in the mud and then I realized, the flip flop was gone and my phone was in the back pocket of my jeans! Poor Oakley was pacing and whining and I was just trying to escape. 

I emerged from the creek completely soaked and knowing this was 100% my fault for being so foolish. I would pay for my foolishness on the walk back to the parking lot. There was no doubt from looking at me that I was drenched. I tried not to meet anyone's eyes as I made that walk of shame, wet and missing a shoe, all the way out of the dog park. It was painful, because my pride was bruised and the pointy rocks of the trail were digging into the bottom of my foot. Nobody said a word to me, they just stared. I figured it would be very easy for them to deduce what had happened. There was really no explanation needed. 

The drive home was quiet. 

This was the beginning of my phone issues. I have had various other issues with my replacement phones so if you have been trying to contact me, and you feel slighted because I haven't gotten back to you, please chalk it up to phone issues. 

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I totally did get the ball. How's that for a game of fetch!

This is the year I'm going to...

It has almost been a year since I made the move to Salt Lake City. I was excited to be a college grad a working professional and a contributor to society. I was so excited for my new beginning and very optimistic for the future. With each new beginning I often find myself saying "This is my year. This is the year I'm going to                ." After finishing off my old journal I went on the search for a new one that could be representative of me. I found the perfect one and received the same journal (except in black) for my birthday from my second family and when I pulled it out I knew that the things written on my journal were the things I wanted for myself in this, my 30th year of life. 

It looks like a lot, but it's mostly just some things I can work on every day and a few things that will take a bit more work, but when I read it I thought "this is what I want for myself." Between my head and my heart, there is a lot going on that I either don't feel safe sharing, or can't quite articulate but since the major request of things people want to know about me is what is going in my life right now through expressing a little bit about my goals. This year I'm going to:

Live [my] dream- Right now, my life long dream is to make a difference. The last time I donated blood they told me I was making a difference with a sticker. Honestly it made me think that beyond donating blood, I really can make a difference. Usually I hope I am making a difference in the small ways I try to show people I care. Everyone deserves to feel loved and to know they matter, that their ideas are not stupid and that they are of infinite worth and as cliche as it might sound, I think if people really understood that, it would make the world a better place.

Show Compassion- I have a tender heart (a blessing and a curse) so I feel like showing compassion comes a little easier to me than it might for others. I'm trying to be more forgiving of my shortcomings and the shortcomings of others. It's not always easy, but I'm working on being Christlike and hoping people can feel the love of God through me. 

Follow [my] heart- This is scary. My tenderheartedness makes me feel more vulnerable and thus, more guarded. However, I'm trying to trust that sometimes, listening to my heart is better than listening to my head. There are just some things in life that are illogical and these are often matters of the heart. 

Create [my] own happiness- I remember one night talking with some roommates during my time in Provo that one of them had expressed she felt like maybe she just wasn't meant to be happy. It was crazy because instantly I knew she was wrong. We all deserve to be happy. This isn't to say we should never be sad, but happiness really is the attainable thing. I'm working on creating my own happiness, mostly I find the next thing helps...

Enjoy the little things- Some of the little things I love that make the world better include but are not limited to the following: Singing in the shower. Waking up without an alarm. Sleeping in. RSL games. My niece and nephew. RAIN. Hugs. A good movie. Latin dancing. Solo apartment dance parties and car dance parties. Painting my nails. Walks (especially with good company). Going to the park. Going for a drive. Anything FAMILY.

Laugh out loud- I love laughing, unfortunately, I don't get to laugh out loud as much as I'd like. There is something about a good laugh that just makes my heart happy. If you can make me laugh, please, come on over!

Make a wish- I actually haven't made any wishes lately. I recently made an attempt to catch my 4th bouquet at a wedding recently, I'm not sure that would count as a wish though. I guess I'm going to have to go throw some coins in a fountain or something.

Be your best self- This is more of a process instead of an event. I am working on this by doing a lot of the aforementioned things but I also feel like my graduate program at the University of Utah is making me a better person but there are a lot of things I could do better. 

Cherish every moment- I need to be better at this, but I do try to stand back a little in different situations and just take it all in. It's those moments where I'm just in awe that this is my life. Even among weeks like the one I just survived, I still consider myself extremely lucky. 

Dream BIG- Right now I am working full-time and attending classes. This is just a small preview of how the fall is going to be when I'm working and doing school full-time so I guess the biggest dream I have is to avoid having to take out a loan unless absolutely necessary. It's definitely not going to be easy, but the less debt I have when I graduate, the better. One thing I have learned from grad school is that it's okay to dream big and it's also important to support other people in their dreams. 

Believe in miracles- I recently wrote a letter to a friend of mine currently serving a mission in Germany which expressed how much I am in awe of modern day miracles. Not even just the "big miracles" but the little miracles that happen every day in each one of us. I am definitely a believer of miracles, they help me remember how much the Lord loves me, and everyone else.

Embrace every possibility- I know that there are possibilities, but I don't always embrace every possibility. Most of this is because I can be stubborn. I would like to think the possibilities I create for myself are all awesome. It always stings a little to admit that a different possibility might be better for me, however, it's something I want to be more open to. 

Remember to breathe- When I was on my mission I found my first gray hair which I promptly made my companion pull out. It was that moment I made a mental note that I needed to remember to breathe. When you're me, it's really easy to stress yourself out so whenever I find myself upset for one reason or another I just stop and try to take some deep breaths. It really works!

Sing in the rain- Have I mentioned how much I love the rain? I've never sung in the rain, just played in it, so this is definitely something I should do this year.

Last of all, this is the year I'm going to...

Fall in love(???)- Does unrequited love count? This is the one my family would really like me to do. It's not that I wouldn't like to fall in love, but anyone who reads my blog knows how I really feel about this subject. I'm not looking for something mediocre. (My soapbox on this subject can be read here.) Besides that, dating has changed a lot since I was 16. I don't know how we managed to do it, but I think we've made dating harder and quite frankly, guys are getting lazy. Yes, I just said that. In their defense, it could just be the guys I'm meeting.

So with all that said, I guess I'd better get to work!