I Woke Up at 5:30 and Drove Many Hours to a Doctor

(And I obsessed over the newest Ezra Furman)

This week has left me wheeking and wheeling so, here is a rando-recap.

Do I ever actually share these on the actual week I’m sharing about? No. I still share most things a little delayed even after all these years as a writer because …

That’s me pretending to have any control over time at all.

(I don’t)

This Week:

I taught high school and college dance students a master class in storytelling, sign and choreography in the JMU Convention Center, thanks to my local school system and a beautiful nonprofit.

I can’t describe what it felt like to be in any room with any young souls as they’re pushing themselves and emoting and sharing their ‘honesties’. It’s an electric feeling that is near impossible to replicate in other parts of life, somehow. I wish I could bottle the feeling of connecting without speaking, and seeing someone who says “I haven’t danced before” take a risk and expand and end the session realizing that they have an earnesty to tell. It’s just … it’s everything.

It is tragic to not feel that feeling very often any more but… I’ll still take the succinct and bittersweet win of the week where I can get it.

I wish I could bring body neutrality, access and my dreams for sunsets of dance to conventions in general so… maybe someone will share this post and then the right person will hire a Deaf former Artistic Director and choreo, you know? (lol. No shame)

I woke up at 530 and drove many hours to a doctors appointment to have for a refill of a critical and pre established medication… which is exhausting and impacted my work (the kids were forewarned, don’t worry)- and that makes me sad for all of us in that boat. And sad for my spine on long drives. But also really damn proud of doing hard things that maybe aren’t hard for some, but are unequivocally painful for me. Even if I’m embarrassed to say they are… it doesn’t mean I didn’t somehow still do the hard thing, you know? I want to start giving myself that allowance. I’m ashamed to celebrate the wins because they’re someone else’s losses.

I worked out for a non impressive 9 minutes to a throwback GILAD workout (yes. Lately I’ve found comfort in the old Gilad workouts. I can write a thesis on why, if you’d like)… and I let myself feel impressed. Because it was very painful with the part of my “spine” that’s thrown out right now, but beyond worth it for my psychology. Even though I had danced this week, and walked around outside with my high school class (I can write a thesis on that too): I felt on cloud 9 for 9 measly minutes of working out at home in my butterfly night gown… and maybe we should all let ourselves feel that more, without comparison to a damn thing.

I watched Josie and the Pussycats.

I obsessed over the newest Ezra Furman singles- “Jump Out” and “Grand Mal”… especially their use of a cello-ish-instrument-something. (And you should obsess over her too please!)

I got a self tape ask from my agent for a film and, even though I mostly live and not-yet-die for the chance to just learn about this side of the arts and wanting to do right by anyone kind enough to care about me as a performing human bean at all…. I genuinely felt so elated to be asked this one. I try to stay attached to the opportunity to read someone else’s art or idea, but not attached to any outcome.

This week has left me feeling a lot of things, but mostly… Guilty for not writing on here in the way I normally aim to do, and have promised to do…

Even when I know I kept promises as a Momma or promises on other ways instead.

Things have been intensely terrible at times, and intensely resilient at others, but in the end:

Every sentence is just the beginning of the next sentence of the weeks we hope to come.

If you have any topics you’d like me to try to write about (I never want these syllables to get old, even though I also believe that sometimes writers have to loop around the same thoughts now and again- in new ways- to work through thing'; Just like choreography)-

BUT: If you have a prompt or a question or a truth you’d like me to tackle to add some texture here, pretty please drop below?

I read EVERY comment or word anyone is ever kind enough to share (both at @catchingbreaths, and DM, and email, etc)- but know that I am terrible at replying to Sub-friends a lot of the time and for that I’ll genuinely always be sorry.. Always guilty.

Thank you for staying here… for catching your breath for a moment through the somewhat-dying-art of writing (and reading anything longer than a 2 sentence caption)… And for caring about the freelance weirdos of the world who sometimes need to survive, but who’s bodies sadly can’t yet fit into the 9 to 5.

xo

PS: Kindly consider booming a supportive Word Nerd if you’re able (every little bit counts and helps keep this ongoing memoir going, or… Share with you someone you like?