Sunday, October 18, 2009

Patience

I've taken a break from the book project, and I'm not entirely sure if it was a conscious decision. In the midst of leaving my office job and pursing my hoop dance business full-time, I got side tracked. Not to mention, the last time I wrote, the content was pretty emotional. Diving into my journals can be an emotionally draining experience. I'm balancing those times out with inspirational books, movement meditation and other healing practices. The books are very helpful... Some of my favorites include: Peaks and Valleys, A Short Guide to a Happy Life, Where Did the Gift Go?, and The Mastry of Love. There are more that are escaping me right now. These books tend to leave me with positive thoughts that remind me to approach each day with gratitude. But, at the same time, I've been feeling a little guilty about my break from writing. A few months ago, I was on a roll... writing every evening, feeling very inspired. Now, it's quiet time. Time to listen and absorb the thoughts and feelings within.

I returned from Citrus County this morning. I visited my home town to host hoop dance workshops over the weekend. I was pleasantly surprised that the workshops were a big hit. I didn't know if people would show, and if they did, would they connect with it? The answer is yes to both, and it felt good.

Afterwards, I met up with my good friend, Jeff. I've been craving face time with Jeff, to tell him about the book project that I'm working on. I didn't want to talk about it over the phone. I wanted to tell him, in person, about my plans for the book. Growing up, Jeff was one of Brad's best friends. Over the years, he became one of my best friends too. His mom was my tennis coach and guidance counselor in high school. I was also great friends with his sister, and our families were connected as well. We all played tennis, and we spent countless hours hanging out after school and on the weekends. Following high school and college, we remained close. Jeff and I leaned on each other after Brad's death - and it was important for me to share with him about the book.

So, on Friday evening, Jeff and I talked. I explained that I've kept journals my whole life, and I have everything documented... all of the grief and emotions that followed Brad's death. Jeff is an amazingly supportive friend, and I'm grateful that I had the chance to speak with him about it. I ended up staying at the house that night since I had a couple drinks and didn't want to drive. The next morning, I woke up at 6 a.m., with the thought that I had to rush back to St. Pete in order to teach class. But as I cranked up the car, I realized that it was Saturday, not Sunday. I don't teach on Saturdays, so I no longer needed to rush. The sun wasn't up yet and as I approached the boat ramp (where Brad took his life), I decided to stop. I hadn't been there in a long time, and I felt compelled to visit his cross and absorb the energy of the lake. We grew up on that lake and spent so many days on the water... swimming, wakeboarding, boating, and playing. I thought about the lake being the last vision Brad had before he died. And as I pulled my car up, I grabbed my Ipod and went to plug it in. But, I quickly decided I wasn't in the mood for my own music, so I switched on the radio instead. At that exact moment, the beginning of Patience by Guns n' Roses came on. It sent a chill through my body. This was Brad's favorite song, and it's what we played at his funeral. I've listened to this song thousands of times but at that moment, the message resonated in a different way...

Shed a tear 'cause I'm missing you. I'm still alright to smile...
There is no doubt you're in my heart now.

Said woman take it slow. It'll work itself out fine. All we need is just a little patience.

Take the time... 'Cause the lights are shining bright.

All we need is just a little patience.

As I sat there, listening to the words, I felt like Brad was speaking directly to me - about the book that I'm writing in his name. I felt his presence.

Before this moment, I was feeling anxious and guilty because I had taken a break from writing. I had been on a roll at one point and then I stopped. I was disappointed in myself because of it... until this moment, at the boat ramp.

It was a confirmation that I'm on no one's time frame. If it takes me years to write, that's OK. Brad deserves only my best work, so when inspiration strikes and the moment is right to write again, then I will. I think my quiet time is also part of the process. I'm reading, absorbing, remembering and thinking... I'm realizing that writing a book doesn't necessarily mean you're actually writing it the entire time. I want it to naturally evolve into a piece of work that does the story justice... it doesn't matter how long it takes. I will have patience.

Monday, October 5, 2009

The Girls From Brookwood

When inspiration strikes, honor it.

I wrote that sentence in a blog a while back, and I needed to remind myself today that it's OK to take breaks. I was in the middle of running around with a million things to get done, but I can't stop thinking about the incredible experience I had yesterday morning. I need to write about it, because the girls from Brookwood inspired me...

I was contacted about a month ago by a newly-formed organization called High Hopes in High Heels, asking me to do a hoop dance workshop at a place called Brookwood. Brookwood is a housing dorm dedicated to providing troubled adolescent girls with an alternative living environment and therapeutic program encompassing education, employability skills, independent living training and counseling that will prepare them for self-sufficiency and/or successful family reunification. In other words, these girls have been through a lot and Brookwood is helping to set them up for success in life.

Our workshop was scheduled to begin at 10 a.m. on Sunday. When Shellie and I got there, a few of the girls looked at us like we were crazy, as we carried about 40 brightly-colored hoola hoops into the cafeteria. I think others were curious, but the reception certainly was not warm. The majority of the young women who live at Brookwood are between the ages of 12 and 18. Apparently, they like to sleep in on Sunday mornings and aren't required to be downstairs until 11 a.m. But on this morning, the supervisors made rounds, waking up the girls who were still sleeping, to notify them of our workshop. I'm sure that the early morning wake up call didn't make us more popular among the group. About 20 girls showed up, many rolling their eyes or groaning, and most were still wearing their pajamas.

I knew that we had to make a good impression in order for them to take us seriously (or even express an interest in what we were doing). So, as the young ladies filed into the room, Shellie and I had the music pumping and were busting out all of our tricks. We freestyle hoop danced to high-energy music as the girls watched. Afterwards, I talked about the art of hoop dance and how the hoops we use are made for adults, which make them easier to use. I told them that they could learn all of the things that Shellie and I were doing, too.

When we invited the girls to participate, about half of them chose to sit out. But the ones who did give it a try were feeling good and accomplished as they danced with their hoops. They must have inspired the others... It was a beautiful thing watching the seated girls get up and join in.

As they danced, I asked them if they've ever had a bad day, felt ugly or sad. They all raised their hands. I told them when I feel that way, I start hooping and the rhythm makes me feel better. I explained that it's really hard to be pissed off when you're hoola hooping. We talked about how hoop dance automatically makes you smile and is a good way to feel good and let go of stress. I encouraged them to explore the space around them and be creative with their movements. Shellie and I then split the girls into two groups, and we taught them some tricks. I loved watching them giggle and smile, especially the ones who were most skeptical in the beginning. It was really interesting, though. It seemed as though some of them were afraid to smile and be happy. I remember one of the young ladies telling us that she never has fun, and she never laughs.

But as Shellie and I played, the girls loosened up. We wanted to provide them with a safe space and communicate a message that they are all beautiful and worthy of love. Each of the girls had stories. I can only imagine what they've been through. It's hard enough being an adolescent girl, much less one who has been abandoned or abused. We were there to provide support and encourage them to dance, move, play. Throughout the workshop, we told them they were beautiful and that they were blowing our minds with how quickly they were learning. We were just speaking from our hearts because everything we said was true.

As the workshop came to an end, we had a group hoop jam. The girls formed a circle. Those on the outside clapped and cheered for the girl in the middle. One by one, they rocked out with their hoops - while we all supported each person during their turn. Girls who were snapping at each other at the beginning of the class were now cheering for one another. When the hoop jam ended, they begged us to stay just a little longer. Some asked for hugs, and others actually had tears in their eyes when we said goodbye. One sweet young lady even wanted our autographs. The funny thing is, I felt like they were the celebrities. They brought us so much joy and melted our hearts.

We left a hoop behind for them to play with and gave them our contact information and asked them to stay in touch. I know that we'll be back soon. This is one of the many reasons why I love what I do. Movement meditation heals, and I'm grateful for experiences like these. There is beauty all around us. We just need to take the time to stop and notice it.

For confidentiality reasons, the faces of these beautiful girls have been blurred.