And Then There Was Dancing…

What a difference a week makes. If you happened to read my post last week, “A Bad Case of the Blues” you’d know that I’d been struggling a bit. I felt it was important to talk about it, not only as a way for me to recognize that I was indeed struggling, but to let others know that they’re not alone if they are struggling with life and these crazy times right now.

I felt so much better after writing that post. I think as a generally happy person, it’s hard for me to admit when I’m feeling blue or overwhelmed. Like somehow, I should be able to fight the feelings off with my super rays of sunshine happiness. Alas, I’ve discovered I am not a superhero, nor do I possess extreme “Blue’s Fighting” lasers. It’s a shame really because I think that would be a tonne of fun.

What I do posses is a serious stubborn streak. I get it from my Mother. I also have her thighs and ass. Thanks Mom. I’m okay with allowing myself to feel the emotions I need to feel. I’m okay with sitting in them for a little while and reflecting on the why. But when I sit too long, it becomes that much harder to dig myself out of the hole. Over the years, I’ve had to dig myself out of some very dark and deep holes, so I know what it takes, and I also know that I can’t wait for the “universe to move me”. I can’t wait for some astral sign to float into my conscience or lightly tap me on the shoulder and gently give me a nudge.

No, I need real tangible signs like dishes all over the kitchen and laundry overflowing from the laundry basket. Things like the new package of paper towels that had been sitting in the doorway for about a month waiting to get put away. Or the mess of flyers, I think around six weeks worth, stacked on the shelf by the stairs. I couldn’t even sit in the chair in my bedroom because it was just full of clothes and crap. I’m not even going to go into what my workspace was looking like.

I don’t like clutter in my mind or in my space. I don’t like mess. I make my bed everyday, no matter what kind of mood I’m in. It’s not like I didn’t know everything was out of whack, I did, I just didn’t want to recognize that I couldn’t even bring myself to deal with it, so I’d just been ignoring it. Shut my eyes and just continuously walked right past it all. At the time, that was only thing I could do.

Until Friday. I’m not sure what I had been dreaming about but I woke up with a burr under my saddle. And it wasn’t a bad thing. I made my bed, then looked at the shit piled on my chair and knew that today was the day I had to pull myself together and take some serious steps. I couldn’t stand it anymore. That, and I was on my emergency, emergency stash of underwear, you know, those few pairs you keep for God knows why and haven’t worn in twenty years. Well on Friday morning, I had to reach to the back of my drawer for one of those beauties because every other pair I owned was in my overflowing laundry basket.

Friday’s are a home office day for me, and I’ve been very careful to try and keep them that way. The rest of my week is a crazy mess of ten to twelve-hour days on the road, and then home to do prep work for the next day. So even though I did have a bunch of prep work I needed to complete, I decided to push it until later in the weekend. This Friday home office day had to be about me.

I made myself a huge cup of tea and sat on the couch in my living room. It’s a great spot because the room is up high and I just love looking out my gigantic living room window. I just needed to take some time to take stock on where I was and how I was going to tackle the day. My mood had already started to improve mid-week, and I do recall maybe moving my shoulders to the music as I was driving to and from appointments on Thursday. The first step.

I’d also, for the most part, spent the entire week off social media and the internet. I love the connections and re-connections I’ve made on social media and I love reading and learning on the internet, but it can also be an overwhelming space, especially social media, and especially in these crazy times. Trying to clear your head and focus on positive thoughts is hard to do when we’re constantly bombarded with negativity, so social media and the internet had to go. The second step.

Friday was a whole bunch of steps thrown together. While drinking my tea, I had a nice long chat with myself, and when I say chat, I do mean that yes, I was talking out loud to myself. I reminded myself that it was okay to feel tired, that based on my work schedule, I had every right to be both physically and mentally exhausted.

Plus, I’m a fifty-year-old woman, and there is shit going on in my body that I have no control over. One on my most pronounced menopausal symptoms as been extreme fatigue. Any of you who know me in real life, know that I usually tend to have ridiculous amounts of energy. I don’t know where it comes from, but I’ve always been able to shift myself into a second, third, or even a fourth gear, if I needed to. Not lately.

Some days it feels like every cell in my body has been stretched to its absolute limits. There are no stores of energy left. And I think it was important for my mental health to recognize that a big part of my rut was rooted in a physical issue, and not something going on in my head. I’ve always been someone who’s physical well-being is directly linked to my mental well-being. I need to be active. I need to move my body. I need to “do”, and when I don’t, my brain starts in with its negative self-worth routine.

So, step number three was talking myself through how I was going to try and be more active, despite my fatigue and my nagging joint pain because I know any improvement in my activity level was going to help me mentally. Then I had a little chat with my ankles. I told them that I recognized that they were looking for some attention and acknowledgement, and that I loved them. I was hoping a little pep talk might spring them out of their funk and help with their own healing. The jury is still out on this, but it’s only been a couple of days. I did rub them down in some soothing cream as a bit of a peace offering. I’ll keep you posted.

Step four was having a little chat with my ass and thighs. I don’t always have the best body image. It’s something I’ve struggled with for a long, long time, and I know as a woman, I’m not alone. I’ve gained a little bit of weight these past few months, not a lot, but enough that I’ve noticed a difference in how my clothes are fitting and there is some unnecessary chaffing going on. And it bothers me. It bothers me that I have a little muffin top that sticks over my waistband. Yes, I’m all for loving your body and loving yourself for who you are etc., but again, for me, my physical well-being is so innately tied to my mental well-being, that when my weight isn’t where I need it to be, I start feeling down and get angry with myself for letting it happen.

So, I asked my ass and thighs if maybe they’d be up for not being so needy and greedy and hanging onto every fat molecule that came their way. I promised them that I’d get them moving again soon, but I desperately needed them to co-operate and let go of some of those stored fat molecules. My muffin top I just plain yelled at to go away because it’s new to the party and it was never invited and sure as hell wasn’t welcome. Again, I’m not sure how responsive my body parts were to the pep talk, but really, I had nothing to lose, so I gave it a shot. I’ll keep you updated.

Once I finished up with the pep talk for my body, I turned my attention toward my head. I knew this one was going to be a little tougher, but like I’ve said, I’m a stubborn bugger and I do not give up easily. I realized that a big part of my blues had to do with not being fully engaged with work that ignites my spark. My job is great and I’m incredible grateful and thankful for it, but it no longer fulfills me the way I need to be fulfilled, especially creatively. And it’s a hard balance to strike because I need to work to pay my bills, but I need to write and be creative to fill my soul. And with the pandemic and so many kids now learning online and struggling, the demand for my services has skyrocketed. I hate to say no when I know kids need help and that gets me into trouble, but I need to learn to say no, I just can’t do it. And wouldn’t you know, later that day, I got a text about taking on another student and I said no. Yeah for me. It’s a start and starting is the hardest part.

Step five was getting off the couch and having a shower, where I again had another little chat with my muffin top, ass, and thighs. Nothing too harsh, just a reiteration of our previous conversation. After my shower, I was ready to rock. I put on the Greatest Hits of the 70s and with the music blaring I cleaned up the kitchen, started the laundry, and finally put away the paper towels. I did all those little jobs that needed to get done that I’d just felt too overwhelmed to do. And as I completed each task, I felt the clutter in my head begin to ease. And I sang. I belted it out all day long. So much so, that my voice was hoarse at the end of the night.

And then there was dancing. It started with just a head bob but by the time some good old disco came on, I was in full out dance party mode. It was glorious! I was a sweaty, gross mess but my spirit felt on fire. I needed that dance party more than I thought I did. Dancing – the best therapy there is, at least for me.

My ankles started barking halfway through, but I told them to F-off! They were not going to spoil this party. I let it rip and it continued right into Saturday. I had to put on Spa Music when I sat down to write this, so I wouldn’t be distracted by words and sick beats. In fact, I’m probably having a Sunday morning dance party right now as you’re reading this. When this pandemic ends, and we’re all finally able to gather with friends and family, I’m going to host one massive, epic dance party in celebration. My training started today; I would advise you to begin yours if you want to keep up. I have a dancing reputation to uphold.

I also found a smidgen of Christmas spirit and managed to put up my “Mom’s Little Tree”. It’s a very special tradition that I will talk more about in next week’s post, but for now, just enjoy the sheer magnificence of this beauty. There is a real sense of magic that emanates from it and I can’t help but feel a sense of peace when I sit and stare at it. This wasn’t going to be the year that I didn’t follow through on my promise, no matter how down I was feeling.

I’m not saying that I’m not going to have some sad moments over the winter but step six (or was it seven?) was purchasing $70 worth of candles. What? They were on sale and no it is NOT excessive. Candles and music will pull me though, so if I have to lean on these heavily, then I will. No judging.

I am an incredibly grateful person. I walk around my house and try to remember what it looked like less than two years ago, before I went on my “TitsnToolz” renovation journey. I do smile when I think of all the work it took and that it was my hands, and my thighs, and my ass that did the majority of the heavy lifting. I called in reinforcements for some of the more technical parts like plumbing and electrical, but all of other work I did myself.

And then I go outside and stroll around my new backyard – a project that I did completely on my own. Every piece of wood (but one), every nail, every shovel of dirt, every pound of concrete – and there were a lot of pounds of concrete. I am proud of myself, and so thankful that I’ve been gifted with the abilities to pull off projects like this. I know I’ve been blessed, and as much as I’m a little ticked with my thighs and ass, I am thankful that they are useful working parts!

I live an abundant life full of love and laughter, I really do. And I know this hard time will come to pass. It’s already on its way out of town. I’m very excited for the Christmas holiday break, and looking forward to an extended period of rest and relaxation where I can just be home and in my space to do whatever I please. Hopefully this includes a bunch of writing and maybe even starting work on a novel but I’m going to try my best not to put too much pressure on myself to make that happen. I have to be okay with listening to my body and my brain, and recognizing when they just need a break – a wine, candle and Etta James kind of night. I’d be down for a few of those over the holidays.

Going forward, I know that I’m going to have to find a better balance between my job and my creative passions. What I’m doing now is not working, I know that, and I’m going to have to think long and hard about how I can make it all work. I desperately want it to work. I feel I have so much to give to both and when one overrides the other, it throws me completely out of sync. So, yes, I will be working on that in the New Year.

None of this personal work I have to do on myself scares or overwhelms me, including getting my butt and thighs back to non-chafing status. All of these trials and tribulations are just bumps in the road, little potholes that I haven’t yet had time to fill. We all have them, and it’s how we deal with them that defines who we are. This year has certainly tried the patience of even the most patient of us, so the end goal can only be to just get through as best as we can.

As I sit writing this and staring at my Mom’s Little Tree, I have a peace in my heart, and no it’s not the red wine. I can do hard things and so can you. I wouldn’t say my bucket of sunshine is overflowing, but this weekend went a long way to patching that hole. The rest will come, I know it will. Some of the most beautiful sunshine happens after the most intense and frightful storms. I truly believe that. And I also believe the spirit is a powerful force and sometimes our best bet is to just shut off our heads and listen completely to our hearts. So for the next little while, I’m letting my heart lead the way.

I am thankful. I am grateful. I am blessed beyond this world. I know I’m loved and have the capacity to give great love to others and that alone is enough to sustain me until this crazy time ends and we can all meet again. Well that and a fresh supply of clean underwear…