Lately, I've been getting confirmations that I am moving in the right direction in writing this book. Last night, for example, I turned on the TV. I haven't watched TV in months. In fact, I don't even have cable at my house. But I am currently enjoying some alone time while I house sit for a friend, and I was in the mood to see a movie.
I flipped on HBO just as a documentary was beginning called Boy Interrupted. It's about a boy named Evan Perry who committed suicide at age 15. His parents are film makers and they created this documentary to honor Evan's life; process the events leading up to his death; deal with the grief, and communicate a message that it's not only OK to talk about mental illness, it's vital. Here is a link to the documentary preview:
Boy Interrupted Trailer
In it, we also learn that Evan's uncle (father's younger brother) killed himself when he was 22 years old. I have to believe that depression, bi-polar disorder and being at risk for suicide is genetic/ hereditary. There are instances of suicide on both my mom and my dad's side of the family, and it was interesting to see that this connection had occurred with the Perrys as well.
This is the first time that I've come across a work about suicide that I felt a solid connection with. It was real, honest, intense and true. I wrote last night and I cried for the Perry family. I cried for my family too. I compared the similarities and the differences between Evan and Brad (and even myself at times). I think that more people need to see this documentary. Every parent should see it, as should every teenager. Anyone who's suffered from depression or bi-polar disorder should watch, and so should families who have dealt with such a tragedy.
Confirmation #2: I woke up this morning and I turned on the radio station to hear the DJs talking to a man who had called in about this story:
http://www.tampabay.com/news/health/medicine/article1005344.ece
It's about a 7-year-old boy in Foster Care who committed suicide. He was given psychiatric drugs without parental consent, and he killed himself by hanging from a shower hose at the facility.
The man who called the show was outraged because his daughter had also attempted suicide. He was trying to make a point about how terrible it is that children are administered psychiatric drugs without the parents' knowledge. This gentleman was also placing blame on the radio show, insinuating that this boy may still be alive had the station done something to increase awareness about mental illness in children. Apparently, the man had tried to contact the DJs on numerous occasions but his attempts were unsuccessful. I think the man's initial message was stemming from a good place, but he came across like a jerk. In turn, the show hosts questioned his parenting skills and called him crazy.
This is a prime example of how mixed up and confused people become when the topic of suicide arises. This man was angry and his words were coming from a place of deep emotion and fear for his daughter's well-being. I'm sure that he also felt grief for the boy who died. The way that he approached the radio DJs, though, was threatening and accusatory. The DJs were immediately defensive, and they responded with mean words. The man's message did not come through the way that it should have. Instead, the listener was made to think that the father was responsible for his daughter's suicide attempt. The reason for his call was masked over with conflict and rage between the show hosts and the father.
Things like this keep happening... I randomly met a man at Target a few months ago. We were wearing the same shirt, in support of the organization, To Write Love on Her Arms... it's a charity that aims to increase awareness about depression, bi-polar disorder and cutting. I asked him about his shirt, and he told me that his mother had killed herself. I drove over the Skyway Bridge recently, just after a young woman had jumped to her death and then I heard the news story hours later on the radio. People are sending me emails and messages, speaking out about their own battles with mental illness.
I believe that these are confirmations - that the universe is telling me I'm on the right path and I need to write this book.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Birthday Bliss!
Today is my 30th Birthday, and I feel good. That, in itself, is a huge accomplishment.
As mentioned in my previous blog, July 22 has not always been a day of celebration for me. In fact, for many years, I would grow anxious, bitter and sad as my birthday approached. Because July 22 is also the date of my cousin's funeral, I associated my birthday with his death.
I have a "Brad Box." It's a red and yellow tin box with a sun on it. Inside, there are pictures, poems, stories, newspaper articles and small items that remind me of my cousin. The box also contains a stack of birthday cards that were given to me at his funeral. I've read the messages many times, and most of them are filled with sorrow and grief.
It's interesting how a specific event can affect your mindset on that same day, moving forward...
For a long time, I would have my friends and family promise not to make a big deal out of my birthday. I would opt to stay home and be alone with my thoughts instead. The last thing I wanted to do was celebrate my life on the anniversary of his death. During my deepest throws of depression, I would question my purpose in being here. I hated the idea of celebrating the day I was born, and I found myself wishing that it would have been me who passed on instead of Brad.
And then there were the years where I would go out with my friends and try not to think of it... this typically resulted in me drinking myself into complete and total inebriation. I would end up arguing with someone - usually my sister or a friend - and the night would always end with me in tears.
I remember one particular birthday (my 27th), where a group of friends suggested that we go out for a nice, relaxed birthday dinner. A couple of them knew that I was sensitive about my birthday, and they ensured me that we would just have dinner. No bars, clubs, etc. At first, I hesitated but they convinced me that it was a good idea. After all, it was the weekend and I hadn't done anything on my birthday the previous year. So, we decided to meet at a restaurant, and I made the reservation for a party of 12.
On the morning of July 22, I received a phone call that my stepdad's sister had died unexpectedly from a brain hemorrhage. She was home, cooking dinner the night before, when she fell to the kitchen floor and was pronounced dead about an hour later. She was young, in good health, and her sons were the same age as me and my sister. They had spent every holiday with us for the past 8 years, and while I wasn't extremely close with her, the news was devistating and heart-breaking for the family... especially for my stepfather who was battling cancer then.
Throughout the day, I started to receive more calls. Jaime couldn't make it to dinner. Then, Cathy had something come up. Ashley wouldn't be there, and neither would Katie. One by one, my friends were bailing on our dinner plans. When I arrived at the restaurant that night, only two of my girlfriends had showed up. So, my boyfriend at the time called his buddies to fill some of the empty seats. I took the event as a sign... my birthday was not worthy of celebration.
Now, three years later, I can honestly say that I am in a good place on my 30th birthday. The past two years, in particular, have been transformational. I've changed so many things about my life, including: my thought process, my food choices, the activities that fascinate me, my creative outlets, and the overall outlook that I now have regarding my purpose here on Earth. I am no longer a victim of circumstance, and I will not feel sorry for myself.
I also choose to be surrounded by positive people who inspire me. The company we keep holds so much weight on our mental health and well-being...
So, as I enter my 30's, I've decided to make the following promises to myself. This is my credo:
As mentioned in my previous blog, July 22 has not always been a day of celebration for me. In fact, for many years, I would grow anxious, bitter and sad as my birthday approached. Because July 22 is also the date of my cousin's funeral, I associated my birthday with his death.
I have a "Brad Box." It's a red and yellow tin box with a sun on it. Inside, there are pictures, poems, stories, newspaper articles and small items that remind me of my cousin. The box also contains a stack of birthday cards that were given to me at his funeral. I've read the messages many times, and most of them are filled with sorrow and grief.
It's interesting how a specific event can affect your mindset on that same day, moving forward...
For a long time, I would have my friends and family promise not to make a big deal out of my birthday. I would opt to stay home and be alone with my thoughts instead. The last thing I wanted to do was celebrate my life on the anniversary of his death. During my deepest throws of depression, I would question my purpose in being here. I hated the idea of celebrating the day I was born, and I found myself wishing that it would have been me who passed on instead of Brad.
And then there were the years where I would go out with my friends and try not to think of it... this typically resulted in me drinking myself into complete and total inebriation. I would end up arguing with someone - usually my sister or a friend - and the night would always end with me in tears.
I remember one particular birthday (my 27th), where a group of friends suggested that we go out for a nice, relaxed birthday dinner. A couple of them knew that I was sensitive about my birthday, and they ensured me that we would just have dinner. No bars, clubs, etc. At first, I hesitated but they convinced me that it was a good idea. After all, it was the weekend and I hadn't done anything on my birthday the previous year. So, we decided to meet at a restaurant, and I made the reservation for a party of 12.
On the morning of July 22, I received a phone call that my stepdad's sister had died unexpectedly from a brain hemorrhage. She was home, cooking dinner the night before, when she fell to the kitchen floor and was pronounced dead about an hour later. She was young, in good health, and her sons were the same age as me and my sister. They had spent every holiday with us for the past 8 years, and while I wasn't extremely close with her, the news was devistating and heart-breaking for the family... especially for my stepfather who was battling cancer then.
Throughout the day, I started to receive more calls. Jaime couldn't make it to dinner. Then, Cathy had something come up. Ashley wouldn't be there, and neither would Katie. One by one, my friends were bailing on our dinner plans. When I arrived at the restaurant that night, only two of my girlfriends had showed up. So, my boyfriend at the time called his buddies to fill some of the empty seats. I took the event as a sign... my birthday was not worthy of celebration.
Now, three years later, I can honestly say that I am in a good place on my 30th birthday. The past two years, in particular, have been transformational. I've changed so many things about my life, including: my thought process, my food choices, the activities that fascinate me, my creative outlets, and the overall outlook that I now have regarding my purpose here on Earth. I am no longer a victim of circumstance, and I will not feel sorry for myself.
I also choose to be surrounded by positive people who inspire me. The company we keep holds so much weight on our mental health and well-being...
So, as I enter my 30's, I've decided to make the following promises to myself. This is my credo:
- When inspiration strikes, I am going to honor it. I will not put the things I'm passionate about on the back burner. Passion and inspiration are now my driving forces.
- I will finish writing my first book, and when it's done, I will have it published. I will share my story with as many people as I possibly can. And when I'm busy promoting my first book, I will be simultaneously working on the second.
- I will make a difference in this world.
- I will accept the things that I can not change, but I will not dwell on them.
- I will not question my self-worth. I know that I am appreciated and valued.
- I will spend more time with nature. I will sit with sunsets and sunrises, and I will camp out as often as possible.
- I will make it on my own as a young entrepreneur on a mission.
- I will respond to the negativity I encounter with kindness.
- I will become a fire staff-spinning badass.
- I will tell my family and friends that I love them as often as possible.
- I will be the best me that I can be.
- I will not only face my fears, I will crush them
- I will invest much more time at the bellydance studio and at the gym. I want to be a freak of nature like Evelyn Tosi (the jazz instructor from the studio where I teach). She is a 50-year-old in a 20-year-old's body.
- I am going to transform my body, just like I transformed my mind. I am being realistic, though, and I'm not setting weight loss goals. Instead, my intentions are to feel good, eat right and make sure that my exercise routine is a direct reflection of the activities I enjoy.
- I will read as many books as I possibly can.
- I will take the time to LISTEN, BREATHE and BE
- I will inspire my hoop dance students to feel good and accomplish their goals - not just in class, but in life.
- I will smile, laugh and love
Monday, July 20, 2009
11 Years
Today is the anniversary of Brad's death. I am always emotional on July 20. I woke up feeling sad. It's been 11 years, which seems surreal.
I sometimes worry that I will forget what his voice sounded like or that I won't remember his facial expressions. Other times, I feel guilty because I don't think about him as much as I used to. I actually think this is a good thing, even though the guilt creeps in, and here's why:
July 20 was the most hellacious day of my life. I've never felt grief like that before. At first, I would cry so hard that I'd make myself sick - literally. I would hide in my room from the rest of the world, feeling awful... being sucked into the black hole in my heart.
Thinking of him is one thing. Thinking of the aftermath is something else. So, when I say that it's a good thing that I don't think of him as much as I used to - it's because for a long time, it was all wrapped into one... thinking of Brad was directly linked to hurt and pain. Thankfully, I am now able to separate the two.
Thinking of him looks like this: a bright, clear blue sky. Us on the boat. The sun beaming down, water sparkling and a grin on Brad's face as he tilts his head toward the warmth and closes his eyes. Every time I think of him, that same image appears: Sunshine.
Thinking of the aftermath looks like this:
The hurt in my uncle's eyes, the first time I saw my aunt after it happened, the piercing pain in my chest, my sister's face crumbling with sadness, my grandma holding my hand at the funeral while people handed me birthday cards, my younger cousin withdrawing from the family and then becoming an asshole. The fucking aftermath...
I still feel sad and heartsick because I miss him but now, I am more aware. I also know that I'm not "cured" from depression. I will always be more fragile on this day. It's something that I have to be conscious of. The triggers set off episodes. Triggers are the hard things in life that cause your thoughts to spiral out of control. Some of my worst episodes were on July 20 - the day he died - and July 22 - the day of Brad's funeral (and also my birthday). The triggers will always be there, and I understand that I need creative outlets to deal with them... writing is one way. Meditation through the hoop is another. These outlets keep me in check.
Chrissy wrote something in the Brad book that comforts me (The Brad book is the journal that stays at his cross)... "May the sun always shine on you." I know that the sun IS always shining on Brad, because when I think of him now, I can't see him any other way.
I sometimes worry that I will forget what his voice sounded like or that I won't remember his facial expressions. Other times, I feel guilty because I don't think about him as much as I used to. I actually think this is a good thing, even though the guilt creeps in, and here's why:
July 20 was the most hellacious day of my life. I've never felt grief like that before. At first, I would cry so hard that I'd make myself sick - literally. I would hide in my room from the rest of the world, feeling awful... being sucked into the black hole in my heart.
Thinking of him is one thing. Thinking of the aftermath is something else. So, when I say that it's a good thing that I don't think of him as much as I used to - it's because for a long time, it was all wrapped into one... thinking of Brad was directly linked to hurt and pain. Thankfully, I am now able to separate the two.
Thinking of him looks like this: a bright, clear blue sky. Us on the boat. The sun beaming down, water sparkling and a grin on Brad's face as he tilts his head toward the warmth and closes his eyes. Every time I think of him, that same image appears: Sunshine.
Thinking of the aftermath looks like this:
The hurt in my uncle's eyes, the first time I saw my aunt after it happened, the piercing pain in my chest, my sister's face crumbling with sadness, my grandma holding my hand at the funeral while people handed me birthday cards, my younger cousin withdrawing from the family and then becoming an asshole. The fucking aftermath...
I still feel sad and heartsick because I miss him but now, I am more aware. I also know that I'm not "cured" from depression. I will always be more fragile on this day. It's something that I have to be conscious of. The triggers set off episodes. Triggers are the hard things in life that cause your thoughts to spiral out of control. Some of my worst episodes were on July 20 - the day he died - and July 22 - the day of Brad's funeral (and also my birthday). The triggers will always be there, and I understand that I need creative outlets to deal with them... writing is one way. Meditation through the hoop is another. These outlets keep me in check.
Chrissy wrote something in the Brad book that comforts me (The Brad book is the journal that stays at his cross)... "May the sun always shine on you." I know that the sun IS always shining on Brad, because when I think of him now, I can't see him any other way.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Turning the Page
When one chapter closes, take a deep breath and sit with it for a moment but do not dwell. Accept what is, and then turn the page.
We don't choose what happens in our lives, but we do choose how we handle things. The old me would have spent last night in tears. The new me went out dancing.
I am proud of myself for the way I handled the end of this particular chapter. I confronted my truth, and I told him how I feel. Now, I am free of worry and distress. Reflecting on this situation, I have no regrets. I know what my spirit needs, and I am going to feed it with the things that make me happy. If and when a partner joins me on the journey, I will be grateful, but I won't sit and wait for him to arrive. I will move forward on my path, and I will stay true to who I am.
So the story goes...
We agreed to see each other yesterday evening. It was his last night here before going back to California. We spoke on the phone as I drove home from work, and he said that he was having dinner with his family. We talked about going bowling, hanging out at my house or I might come to meet him at the beach. I was planning to enjoy my time with him and be present in the moment. I was hoping for a happy, relaxed evening full of smiles and laughter. I had a book to return to him as well.
During our phone conversation, I mentioned that I had to go home, change and let the dog out. I would text him when I was ready so we could make plans. I sent him a message around 7 p.m. asking if he would be at the beach a while longer. He messaged me back, saying he was still eating but he'd be done soon. Some time went by, and I asked if I should head his way or if he preferred to come to my house. His response: 'not sure.' By this time, it was approaching 8:30. I could feel the disappointment, frustration and hurt rise up inside of me. So, I wrote back: 'your book is in my mailbox.'
Normally, I wouldn't throw in the towel so quickly, but I should mention that there was confusion the last time he went home to California, surrounding the fact that he left without saying goodbye. In addition, we had specifically talked about meeting up early yesterday. I tried not to have expectations, but I really didn't envision him letting me down, in the same way as last time. It was happening all over again.
I took a deep breath and sat with the feeling for a moment. I then grabbed my journal, got in my car and drove to my favorite restaurant. I called my friend Kristin on the way and asked her if she wanted to meet me there. As I waited for her to arrive, I ordered a glass of wine and my phone rang. I talked to him briefly. He invited me to his parents' house, but I explained that I had made other plans at that point. He seemed surprised to hear that I wasn't interested in coming over. It was 9 p.m. I told him I wasn't home and that he could come pick up the book from my mailbox. I expressed my feelings of disappointment. I hung up the phone, and I wrote in my journal as I waited for Kristin.
When she got there, we had a great conversation and ordered some appetizers. Towards the end of our meal, two of our other friends showed up. It was a nice surprise to see them, and they told us that a good band was playing at the bar downstairs. About an hour later, the four of us were drinking sangria, laughing, dancing and taking silly pictures. Kristin had a hoop in the car, so we busted that out. Everyone wanted to try it - from the band members to the servers and customers at the restaurant.
What had the potential to be a really shitty night was completely transformed into an impromptu girls' night out. I got home around 2 a.m. with a stomach sore from laughing.
We are the masters of our own destiny. Do not be a victim of circumstance. Create the reality you want.
We don't choose what happens in our lives, but we do choose how we handle things. The old me would have spent last night in tears. The new me went out dancing.
I am proud of myself for the way I handled the end of this particular chapter. I confronted my truth, and I told him how I feel. Now, I am free of worry and distress. Reflecting on this situation, I have no regrets. I know what my spirit needs, and I am going to feed it with the things that make me happy. If and when a partner joins me on the journey, I will be grateful, but I won't sit and wait for him to arrive. I will move forward on my path, and I will stay true to who I am.
So the story goes...
We agreed to see each other yesterday evening. It was his last night here before going back to California. We spoke on the phone as I drove home from work, and he said that he was having dinner with his family. We talked about going bowling, hanging out at my house or I might come to meet him at the beach. I was planning to enjoy my time with him and be present in the moment. I was hoping for a happy, relaxed evening full of smiles and laughter. I had a book to return to him as well.
During our phone conversation, I mentioned that I had to go home, change and let the dog out. I would text him when I was ready so we could make plans. I sent him a message around 7 p.m. asking if he would be at the beach a while longer. He messaged me back, saying he was still eating but he'd be done soon. Some time went by, and I asked if I should head his way or if he preferred to come to my house. His response: 'not sure.' By this time, it was approaching 8:30. I could feel the disappointment, frustration and hurt rise up inside of me. So, I wrote back: 'your book is in my mailbox.'
Normally, I wouldn't throw in the towel so quickly, but I should mention that there was confusion the last time he went home to California, surrounding the fact that he left without saying goodbye. In addition, we had specifically talked about meeting up early yesterday. I tried not to have expectations, but I really didn't envision him letting me down, in the same way as last time. It was happening all over again.
I took a deep breath and sat with the feeling for a moment. I then grabbed my journal, got in my car and drove to my favorite restaurant. I called my friend Kristin on the way and asked her if she wanted to meet me there. As I waited for her to arrive, I ordered a glass of wine and my phone rang. I talked to him briefly. He invited me to his parents' house, but I explained that I had made other plans at that point. He seemed surprised to hear that I wasn't interested in coming over. It was 9 p.m. I told him I wasn't home and that he could come pick up the book from my mailbox. I expressed my feelings of disappointment. I hung up the phone, and I wrote in my journal as I waited for Kristin.
When she got there, we had a great conversation and ordered some appetizers. Towards the end of our meal, two of our other friends showed up. It was a nice surprise to see them, and they told us that a good band was playing at the bar downstairs. About an hour later, the four of us were drinking sangria, laughing, dancing and taking silly pictures. Kristin had a hoop in the car, so we busted that out. Everyone wanted to try it - from the band members to the servers and customers at the restaurant.
What had the potential to be a really shitty night was completely transformed into an impromptu girls' night out. I got home around 2 a.m. with a stomach sore from laughing.
We are the masters of our own destiny. Do not be a victim of circumstance. Create the reality you want.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Here and Now
To be happy, one must acknowledge things for the way they are at any given moment in time. We must make a conscious effort to seek acceptance. It may not be easy, but it's necessary for our well-being, mental health and spiritual growth.
So often, we set expectations, and many times, these expectations lead us to internal conflict. It's human nature to fantasize and to envision the way that we want things to be. Setting goals and developing positive intentions is important. But if things do not manifest the way that you envision them to, that does not mean you should give up on the end result. I spoke with a dear friend about this last night, and his words resonate. My friend lives this way (in the now), and he's one of the most positive people I've ever met.
These revelations are coming to me as I work to seek clarity in a situation that is/was clouding my thought process. Relationships tend to confuse me most.... I think that everyone wants love, and I am hopeful that my life's path will lead me to it. My intention is set. I envision myself in a loving, healthy relationship because my heart craves it. However, I know that patience is a virtue, and I recognize the need to honor each and every experience along the way. All I can do is be true to myself and true to the moments that I am blessed with. I'm learning to have faith in knowing that things will unfold the way they are meant to.
I met someone about eight months ago. There was an instant connection, and I began to develop feelings for this person right away. When we met, he was only here for a few months, visiting family and friends. And even though our time together was short, it was significant. When he returned home to California after his extended vacation, I was heart-broken to see him go.
In the months that followed, we did not do a very good job keeping in touch, for multiple reasons (he doesn't have a computer, our work schedules often conflict, the time change between FL and CA, etc.). So, when he told me he would be visiting for a week, I wasn't sure how I would feel when I saw him again. Would the connection be as strong as it was before? And if so, would I be willing to open up my heart to the sadness that I will inevitably feel when he leaves again? These fears and reservations are natural, but they can be powerful and toxic too.
I'm realizing now that my fantasy, my expectation, of the way I want things to be (even if only in my subconscious) may prevent me from being present in the moment. I develop scenarios in my mind, and I worry... wondering how he feels, if the relationship would/ could ever work, etc. These are natural thoughts, but at the same time, I'm recognizing that there is beauty in the unknown. Being here now is what matters most. For example, who's to say that if we lived in the same city and tried to make it work that it would be an ideal situation?
Life is not black or white. We live in color, and I choose to ride the wave of emotion and have the full experience of each and every moment. Projecting fears for the future and exerting energy worrying about what could happen or what might not happen will only prevent you from enjoying the beauty of now.
We experience emotion, and we may not like the fact that our reality is different than the way we envision things to be. But it's important not to lose sight of where we are right now. Enjoy the journey. There will never be another moment exactly like this one, so embrace it and know that you are more powerful than your fears. You only have so much energy to exude, so use it wisely. Quiet the thoughts and feelings that stem from negativity, worry and distress. In doing so, you will create more space for the moments that fill your heart with love and light. Tomorrow will be what it will. Be present in the now.
So often, we set expectations, and many times, these expectations lead us to internal conflict. It's human nature to fantasize and to envision the way that we want things to be. Setting goals and developing positive intentions is important. But if things do not manifest the way that you envision them to, that does not mean you should give up on the end result. I spoke with a dear friend about this last night, and his words resonate. My friend lives this way (in the now), and he's one of the most positive people I've ever met.
These revelations are coming to me as I work to seek clarity in a situation that is/was clouding my thought process. Relationships tend to confuse me most.... I think that everyone wants love, and I am hopeful that my life's path will lead me to it. My intention is set. I envision myself in a loving, healthy relationship because my heart craves it. However, I know that patience is a virtue, and I recognize the need to honor each and every experience along the way. All I can do is be true to myself and true to the moments that I am blessed with. I'm learning to have faith in knowing that things will unfold the way they are meant to.
I met someone about eight months ago. There was an instant connection, and I began to develop feelings for this person right away. When we met, he was only here for a few months, visiting family and friends. And even though our time together was short, it was significant. When he returned home to California after his extended vacation, I was heart-broken to see him go.
In the months that followed, we did not do a very good job keeping in touch, for multiple reasons (he doesn't have a computer, our work schedules often conflict, the time change between FL and CA, etc.). So, when he told me he would be visiting for a week, I wasn't sure how I would feel when I saw him again. Would the connection be as strong as it was before? And if so, would I be willing to open up my heart to the sadness that I will inevitably feel when he leaves again? These fears and reservations are natural, but they can be powerful and toxic too.
I'm realizing now that my fantasy, my expectation, of the way I want things to be (even if only in my subconscious) may prevent me from being present in the moment. I develop scenarios in my mind, and I worry... wondering how he feels, if the relationship would/ could ever work, etc. These are natural thoughts, but at the same time, I'm recognizing that there is beauty in the unknown. Being here now is what matters most. For example, who's to say that if we lived in the same city and tried to make it work that it would be an ideal situation?
Life is not black or white. We live in color, and I choose to ride the wave of emotion and have the full experience of each and every moment. Projecting fears for the future and exerting energy worrying about what could happen or what might not happen will only prevent you from enjoying the beauty of now.
We experience emotion, and we may not like the fact that our reality is different than the way we envision things to be. But it's important not to lose sight of where we are right now. Enjoy the journey. There will never be another moment exactly like this one, so embrace it and know that you are more powerful than your fears. You only have so much energy to exude, so use it wisely. Quiet the thoughts and feelings that stem from negativity, worry and distress. In doing so, you will create more space for the moments that fill your heart with love and light. Tomorrow will be what it will. Be present in the now.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Hoop Path Retreat Reflections Part 2
After work on Wednesday, I drove home to find Cassandra and "Big Momma" (her jeep) waiting for me at my house. We went to grab some Thai food and made a list of items we would need for our 12-hour road trip and weekend adventure. Hoola Monster Kiyla joined us as we finished up dinner, and Amy arrived at the house a few hours later. The four of us chatted with excitement about the upcoming retreat. We had to wake up and hit the road by 5:30 a.m., so we eventually called it a night.On Thursday morning, we loaded up Big Momma and made our way out of Tampa. Cassandra was amazing and drove the entire time, with brief pit stops for hooping, stretching and food.
We eventually arrived in Carborro and set up at Camp Mary Water, our Retreat 'home away from home.' There were approx. 15 campers and house guests staying with Mary. She was a warm and inviting ray of sunshine throughout the entire weekend, and we couldn't have asked for a better hostess. (We love her!)After setting up camp, we hopped back in the jeep with our hoops and made our way to the Opening Ceremony and Flow Showcase. Walking into the room was like a hoop family reunion. I saw lots of familiar, smiling faces including: Lauren, Christabel, Claudia, Tara, Ann, Beth, Rebecca, Nicki, Geoff, and the list goes on... I was giddy with excitement meeting new people as well. It warmed my heart just being present in that environment, surrounded by 150 beaming hoopers. I couldn't help but think how we were all brought together in that moment due to our shared passion for the blissful, powerful art form known as modern hoop dance.
Bax said a few words before the Flow Showcase began. Performances included belly dancing by Anastasia, an interpretive dance by the amazing Christabel (a.k.a. HoopGirl), some badass hooping by the one and only Spiral and a heart-warming "Life of the Party" poem by our very own Cassandra. We were also blessed with a beautiful song by Hoop Pathers Beth and Ann. There were other talented artists who showed their stuff too, but the names are escaping me now. Afterwards, we all hooped together at the farm before heading back to Camp Water for some much needed R&R.
Friday morning began with excited squeals as Kristin and Kacey arrived at Camp Water. I hadn't seen these two in about a year and a half, and I was like a little kid on Christmas morning being reunited with my friends. After some brief catch up, we took part in an outdoor, guided meditation at Bonnie's house. It ended with peacock feather take-aways with inspirational words attached. Calm and blissful, the group headed out for the first workshop of the weekend.
In the workshops, Bax encourages students to "go blind." Blindfolded, meditative practice enables you to focus on the experience in a different way. When blindfolded, I find that I'm able to feel and respond to the rhythm and energy created between me and the hoop. I get into the zone, or "flow" and I'm able to lose sight of the world around me. It's truly a beautiful experience.
Day 1's Focus: The Vessel. We did lots of core hooping and balance techniques. As always, Bax provided wonderful instruction and guidance. We were all on a hoop high afterwards, so we met up with some of the locals to celebrate Lauren W's birthday before calling it a night.
Saturday began with a group breakfast. Day 2's Workshop Focus was The Mind. Baxter's soothing words filled the room, as he coached us through each technique. When teaching, Bax has a habit of repeating things three times. "Unlock, unlock, unlock." "It's okay, It's okay, It's okay." Self-love and acceptance were key themes in the Saturday workshop. I remember feeling a deep connection to the experience during blindfolded practice.
Saturday began with a group breakfast. Day 2's Workshop Focus was The Mind. Baxter's soothing words filled the room, as he coached us through each technique. When teaching, Bax has a habit of repeating things three times. "Unlock, unlock, unlock." "It's okay, It's okay, It's okay." Self-love and acceptance were key themes in the Saturday workshop. I remember feeling a deep connection to the experience during blindfolded practice.
Afterwards, we met with our Mini Tribe to discuss the fire ceremony, which would take place later in the evening. Our group agreed upon a "Recipe for Positive Transformation." Matthias did a great job constructing a basket out of vines and wood, which would serve as our contribution to the fire.
After a quick shower, we headed over to Beth's house for the Kava ceremony and fire ritual. Bax began by holding silence for a friend who had recently passed. I knew that I wouldn't make it through the weekend without sheding tears, and this was my moment to do so. It was obvious that this man had touched the lives of many. My heart went out to The Hoop Path and to all who suffered from this great loss.The evening continued with fire offerings from the Mini Tribes, with fire hooping and fire dancing to follow. Our Recipe for Positive Transformation included: greasing the bowl with hope, a dash of fear balanced with support from family and friends, a whole lot of self-love and courage, a bit of pain, loads of love and sprinkles of glitter. Cassandra and Matthias did a fabulous job presenting it. Afterwards, we had the pleasure of watching Rich (a.k.a. IsoPop) kill it with double mini fire hoops and Miss Rosie (from Hero Hoops) rock out with an amazing fire hoop performance. I lit up as well, and then we headed back to Mary's to sleep.
Day Three: Waking up outdoors is one of my favorite things to do. The fresh air, birds chirping and sunshine always put me in a good mood. So, on Sunday morning, I woke up early feeling great. Kacey, Kristin, Amy and I decided to go for a morning hike. We heard there was a lake nearby, and we wanted to go for a swim. It was an absolutely beautiful way to start our final day in Carborro:
Afterwards, we re-convened with our mini-Tribe over brunch with Mary. Needless to say, it was another great experience with lots of laughter and smiles.
The workshop on Day 3 was different than any of the other Hoop Path workshops I've been to. It began with "Hoop Church." We entered the gym in silence and proceeded to watch Bax hold up a series of signs. Music and movement then followed. On Day 3, Ann taught a section on sustained spinning, which was a definite highlight for me. I've been working on spinning but it's been difficult for me. With Ann's visualization techniques, I was able to finally break ground with spinning. For the first time, I got into flow with this technique, and it felt great. Taylor, Kristin and Kacey had similar experiences and we couldn't stop chatting about it on the way back to Mary's.We arrived back at the campsite and immediately started getting ready for the Hooper's Ball. We had to pack up our gear because we needed to be on the road after the ball ended. The thing is... we didn't thoroughly think it through. We got ready before packing, so it was a pretty hilarious sight watching a bunch of girls in fishnets and feathers pack up camping equipment. We met in front of Mary's house to take photos before the ball. It felt a little bit like prom, but with glitter and leg warmers in place of corsages and prom dresses.
The Hooper's Ball was simply amazing. The workshops are an introspective experience, so it's sometimes difficult to see the incredible talent of the other hoopers in the room. But the Hooper's Ball was a chance for me to take in my surroundings. A HUGE highlight for me was watching Brecken hoop. She has this unique, smooth dance style... that, combined with her MAD HOOPING SKILLS, is a sight to see. I couldn't stop watching her. Of course, Rich, Christabel, Ann, Bax and Michelle were highlights for me as well. And watching Beth hoop with her daughter, Erica, was truly heart-warming. The beautiful thing about it is that I could take away something positive from every single hooper that I laid eyes upon. One of the great things about hoop dance is that each person brings his or her own, unique style into the art form.
Finally, it was time to pack up and head out. While it was sad to say goodbye to all of my Hoop Path sisters and brothers, I made it a point to remind myself that I have these amazing memories now. I also have a full year to prepare and look forward to HP4. The retreat was cleansing, meditative, heart-warming and soul-fulfilling. I'm truly grateful for the experience and for the incredible hooping community. I feel blessed, thankful and HAPPY today.
Hoop Path Retreat Reflections Part 1
Light. Bliss. Acceptance. Positive Transformation. Meditation. Gratitude. Happiness. Calm. Silence. Beauty. Talent. Music. Hugs. Flow. Appreciation. Amazement. Tears. Fire. Warmth. Comfort. Community. Introspection. Self-Love. Smiles. Patience. Sharing. PE*A*CE.
These are just some of the words that come to mind when I reflect on this past weekend. I returned from the Hoop Path Retreat in Carborro, North Carolina yesterday evening. Before diving into my incredible experience at the retreat, I want to take a moment to explain what the The Hoop Path means to me and why this event is so significant.
When I talk about 'finding the light' and overcoming depression, I often discuss healing through movement meditation - specifically hoop dance. Hoop dance is my passion, my stress relief and my creative outlet for self-expression. It's also my portal to happiness. I began hoop dancing in 2007 after a friend (Kacey from Homespun Hoops) introduced me to it. At the time, Kacey was taking a few months off from her career to attend music festivals and sell her hand-made hoops. She invited me over one day after work. We had some wine and then ventured outside to 'hoop.' Kacey handed me a large hoola hoop and encouraged me to try it. This hoop was different than the hula hoop I remembered playing with as a child. It was larger, heavier and it rotated slowly around my waist. I watched with awe as Kacey danced with her hoop. I was blown away by the grace and beauty of her movements. I found the experience to be meditative, rhythmic and soothing. Kacey made me my own hoop that day, and this marked the beginning of my personal hoop path. It was also a low point for me, in terms of depression.
For a few months, the hoop sat in my apartment untouched. Kacey moved back to South Carolina, and my depression got worse. I was in an unhealthy relationship and negative thoughts were constantly running through my mind. The sadness was consuming me, though I hid it well. One evening, I went to see a band with some friends. I noticed a couple girls hoop dancing. They looked so peaceful as they flowed effortlessly to the music. I watched, reflecting on how much fun I had in the backyard with Kacey. I got home that evening, moved my furniture around, and danced with my hoop in the living room for hours. It felt good.
In the months that followed, I obsessively watching videos on You Tube and Tribe.net. I cyber-stalked the masters on my computer... Spiral, Christabel, Baxter, Ann, Beth, Hoopalicious, and the list goes on... I wanted to do what they did, so I visited sites like Hooping.org, and I studied video tutorials. I also researched the websites of those who inspired me.
I will never forget the day when I logged onto The Hoop Path website for the first time. I read Jonathan Baxter's story with amazement. Here was a man talking openly about his experience with depression... an illness that I had spent my entire life hiding. On the site, Bax credits his rigorous hoop practice as the healing tool that enabled him to successfully overcome depression. He says he started to notice that his depression struck less often, felt less oppressive and the breakdowns didn't last as long. As a result, he was filled with hope. He also compared the rocking sensation created by the hoop to a baby rocking in its cradle... soothing, calm and quiet. Tears slid down my cheeks as I read his words. In that moment, I realized the same thing was happening for me. It had been months since I had a breakdown. Could it be that my new-found fascination with the hoop was really helping me overcome depression? This realization floored me.
From that point on, I felt a strong connection to The Hoop Path, and I wanted to meet Bax and learn from him first-hand. So, I bought a ticket to the 2008 Hoop Path Retreat in Carborro, NC. In Hoop Path language, this makes me a 'second-ringer' (Similar to annual rings on a tree, with each retreat, the community grows and more rings are added).
In June of 2008, I traveled to North Carolina with my hoop dance troupe, The Hoola Monsters. We had recently formed our group, and a few of us had just become certified to teach classes. I was so excited (and nervous) about the event. Last year, if I had to categorize myself, in terms of skill level, I would have put myself at the 'beginner/ just branching into intermediate' category.
By nature, I am a competitive person. So, when I arrived at the retreat, I couldn't help but compare myself to some of the other, more skilled hoopers. It was a humbling experience for me. At home, people would compliment my hooping regularly. At the '08 retreat, I was a newbie with lots to learn. There were times that brought me to tears, but Bax's words provided balance in those moments of frustration. He talked about self-love and discovering your own path. I was learning not to put so much pressure on myself. I was learning how to be patient and accepting of who I am, at any given moment in time. It's not about how good you can be. It's about how good you can feel.
I vividly remember a time in one of the workshops where I started crying and broke away from the group. The tears were flowing and I couldn't stop them. In that moment, I felt arms embrace me. I didn't know who was hugging me, but I hugged back and that support was exactly what I needed. The hugger's name is Lauren, and she was there for me before we ever even spoke. Needless to say, the '08 retreat marked the beginning of some amazing friendships.
The 2008 retreat was a cleansing experience for me. I would go so far as to say that it was life-changing. I expelled the negative energy inside of me. I literally danced it away, and I felt rejuvenated afterwards.
These are just some of the words that come to mind when I reflect on this past weekend. I returned from the Hoop Path Retreat in Carborro, North Carolina yesterday evening. Before diving into my incredible experience at the retreat, I want to take a moment to explain what the The Hoop Path means to me and why this event is so significant.
When I talk about 'finding the light' and overcoming depression, I often discuss healing through movement meditation - specifically hoop dance. Hoop dance is my passion, my stress relief and my creative outlet for self-expression. It's also my portal to happiness. I began hoop dancing in 2007 after a friend (Kacey from Homespun Hoops) introduced me to it. At the time, Kacey was taking a few months off from her career to attend music festivals and sell her hand-made hoops. She invited me over one day after work. We had some wine and then ventured outside to 'hoop.' Kacey handed me a large hoola hoop and encouraged me to try it. This hoop was different than the hula hoop I remembered playing with as a child. It was larger, heavier and it rotated slowly around my waist. I watched with awe as Kacey danced with her hoop. I was blown away by the grace and beauty of her movements. I found the experience to be meditative, rhythmic and soothing. Kacey made me my own hoop that day, and this marked the beginning of my personal hoop path. It was also a low point for me, in terms of depression.
For a few months, the hoop sat in my apartment untouched. Kacey moved back to South Carolina, and my depression got worse. I was in an unhealthy relationship and negative thoughts were constantly running through my mind. The sadness was consuming me, though I hid it well. One evening, I went to see a band with some friends. I noticed a couple girls hoop dancing. They looked so peaceful as they flowed effortlessly to the music. I watched, reflecting on how much fun I had in the backyard with Kacey. I got home that evening, moved my furniture around, and danced with my hoop in the living room for hours. It felt good.
In the months that followed, I obsessively watching videos on You Tube and Tribe.net. I cyber-stalked the masters on my computer... Spiral, Christabel, Baxter, Ann, Beth, Hoopalicious, and the list goes on... I wanted to do what they did, so I visited sites like Hooping.org, and I studied video tutorials. I also researched the websites of those who inspired me.
I will never forget the day when I logged onto The Hoop Path website for the first time. I read Jonathan Baxter's story with amazement. Here was a man talking openly about his experience with depression... an illness that I had spent my entire life hiding. On the site, Bax credits his rigorous hoop practice as the healing tool that enabled him to successfully overcome depression. He says he started to notice that his depression struck less often, felt less oppressive and the breakdowns didn't last as long. As a result, he was filled with hope. He also compared the rocking sensation created by the hoop to a baby rocking in its cradle... soothing, calm and quiet. Tears slid down my cheeks as I read his words. In that moment, I realized the same thing was happening for me. It had been months since I had a breakdown. Could it be that my new-found fascination with the hoop was really helping me overcome depression? This realization floored me.
From that point on, I felt a strong connection to The Hoop Path, and I wanted to meet Bax and learn from him first-hand. So, I bought a ticket to the 2008 Hoop Path Retreat in Carborro, NC. In Hoop Path language, this makes me a 'second-ringer' (Similar to annual rings on a tree, with each retreat, the community grows and more rings are added).
In June of 2008, I traveled to North Carolina with my hoop dance troupe, The Hoola Monsters. We had recently formed our group, and a few of us had just become certified to teach classes. I was so excited (and nervous) about the event. Last year, if I had to categorize myself, in terms of skill level, I would have put myself at the 'beginner/ just branching into intermediate' category.
By nature, I am a competitive person. So, when I arrived at the retreat, I couldn't help but compare myself to some of the other, more skilled hoopers. It was a humbling experience for me. At home, people would compliment my hooping regularly. At the '08 retreat, I was a newbie with lots to learn. There were times that brought me to tears, but Bax's words provided balance in those moments of frustration. He talked about self-love and discovering your own path. I was learning not to put so much pressure on myself. I was learning how to be patient and accepting of who I am, at any given moment in time. It's not about how good you can be. It's about how good you can feel.
I vividly remember a time in one of the workshops where I started crying and broke away from the group. The tears were flowing and I couldn't stop them. In that moment, I felt arms embrace me. I didn't know who was hugging me, but I hugged back and that support was exactly what I needed. The hugger's name is Lauren, and she was there for me before we ever even spoke. Needless to say, the '08 retreat marked the beginning of some amazing friendships.
The 2008 retreat was a cleansing experience for me. I would go so far as to say that it was life-changing. I expelled the negative energy inside of me. I literally danced it away, and I felt rejuvenated afterwards.
I've been looking forward to this year's retreat since the day I left Carborro last year. I wanted to see my hoop sisters and brothers, and I wanted to revel in Baxter's teachings again.
In the weeks leading up to the 2009 retreat, I spent lots of time on the phone with my out-of-state hooper friends, especially Lauren and Kacey. I hadn't seen Lauren since last year's retreat, and I really hadn't hooped with Kacey since she introduced me to hooping in the first place. They were both going to be at the retreat, and I was so excited to see them.
I had a slumber party at my house the night before our Carborro road trip. Cassandra (a fellow HoopGirl Workout teacher), Kiyla (a member of my troupe) and Amy (one of my students) slept over. We had to wake up at 5:30 a.m. in order to make it to Carborro for the first event of the weekend. We were giddy with excitement, as we finished packing and went over the retreat schedule. We knew it was going to be an incredible experience...
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