A few weeks back things started to fall apart in our apartment. The first thing was our blender, which short-circuited right before frying itself up. A few hours later the USB cable my phone charger just randomly tore. A few days after that (on a Friday, no less), our bathroom ceiling started leaking badly. As an amateur witch, I decided it was time to burn some sage, and looked for a local store that sells it. Once I found it, me and my partner were cleansing our apartment with a little sage smudge and chanting. When I told my friend about this, she sent me a meme about the amount of sage needed to cleanse the air in 2020, displaying a smudge larger and probably heavier than an fully grown person. I would say that’s probably an accurate estimate.
With that said, it is 2020, and life’s weirdness is at its peak. In the past few weeks I have been getting increasingly upset with the fact that my local dance studio isn’t going to open up anytime in the foreseeable future. This means that I have now been taking dance classes out of my living room for over 8 months, with the exception of 3 whole classes taken at the studio, when I was visiting Israel in August. Just when I felt as though things can’t worse, and my frustration levels were unprecedented, I injured myself during a living room Zoom class. I somehow managed to hit the edge of the electric fireplace with my toe, which resulted in a torn sock and a cut so deep I couldn’t get it to stop bleeding for about four hours. Though insisting I didn’t want to, my partner finally convinced me that we should go to the hospital so that someone will have a look at it. The visit landed me a couple of sutures and one very lousy state of mind. As dancing is not only something I do to pass time during this half lockdown situation, it is also my profession, this meant that I would have to rest for a couple of weeks and wouldn’t be able to work. It felt like such bad luck, a surreal and stupid injury that could have been avoided. It felt like the last thing I needed.
And then a few days passed. I was taking life at an even slower pace than I had been in the past months (if possible), I wasn’t leaving the house or dancing, I wasn’t visiting new coffee shops nor was I socializing, I was getting a lot more sleep and trying to take a few gentler classes like Pilates, and yoga (at my own pace and with modifications) and then the realization hit me. I had been searching for a reset button for a while now. I knew that I was unhappy with my life. Though I love teaching and I love my students, I felt quite detached from most of the things I was doing. And this was the reset button I couldn’t quite find. This past week has allowed me to make progress with my PhD lit review, while actually taking in and enjoying what I was reading, instead of just treating it as a chore. I was able to re-connect with my art (both writing and drawing), take time to listen to what my body needs, experience joyful moments, being fully present with my partner.
So though I don’t know when I will be back dancing, neither in a studio nor in my living room, I realize that it’s just another little bump in my journey, and honestly, it’s not so bad.
Till next time,