The Soundtrack of My Life

When I was three or four years old I used to "work out" with my dad in the basement of our house in Brooklyn.  I don't remember actually exercising, but I can tell you the song that was playing was always The Pointer Sisters, "I'm So Excited."  Fast forward to my seventh birthday party, when the only song I wanted to hear was "I Want To Dance With Somebody" by Whitney Houston.  As I grew up, the music I listened to came to define my life and some of my greatest memories.  To this day, when I hear a certain song or artist I am instantly transported to the moment those lyrics hit me.  I like to think of it as the soundtrack of my life.  

Debbie Gibson, "Lost In Your Eyes"-  I'm bike riding up and down my neighborhood block, Walkman in my little fanny pack, wearing my "Debbie Gibson" hat.  Boys II Men, "On Bended Knee"- I'm on a bus in sixth grade, singing my heart out because at the time I hadn't yet realized I was borderline tone deaf.  The Tony Rich Project "Nobody Knows"- I'm crying over boys with my best friend during one of our countless middle and high school sleep-overs.

K.C. & Jo Jo, "All My Life" (Stop laughing)- My first glimpse of young love.  Sarah McLachlan, the entire "Mirrorball" CD- My first glimpse of young heartbreak.

Aerosmith, "Crazy"- Lawn seats, PNC when it was still the Garden State Arts Center, senior year of high school.  My first "I'm so cool I'm here with my friends" concert.

As I grew up, my taste in music matured and I became not only wrapped up in what was pleasing to my ears, but also the words and emotions that came along with it.  As a dancer, you communicate with your body.  Each movement, gesture, look, and breath gives meaning to the exquisite picture that the music has painted.   When I began choreographing pieces and not just performing, I tore into the guts of the song, interpreting and analyzing every word and beat.  I think back to more recent memories, and the songs I hear not only bear an image of a person or place, but also a feeling.  

I hear the soothing voice of Amos Lee singing "Southern Girl" and I'm down at the beach on an unusually warm fall day, quiet all around, an air of happiness in the car and a peaceful feeling in my heart.

The first chords of Jason Mraz's "You and I Both" play on my iPod and the same tears that welled in my eyes during that final encore at World Cafe Live still linger at the tips of my lashes.

Bryan Adams' "Summer of 69" blares loud on the stereo and I can't help but smile, laugh, and sing at the top of my lungs, college memories running rampant.  Dixie Chicks plays and I think of my best friend, and how she has turned my tears into laughter more times that I can count.

Train, "I'm About To Come Alive."  I can literally feel the music in my soul.

As support, inspiration, and feedback for this blog has continued to filter in, my ideas have expanded into so many different realms.  I've come to realize that while people may enjoy reading these entries, not everyone feels comfortable expressing themselves in their own writing.  So I invite you to submit your words in whatever way choose.  Whatever way you find easiest to express yourself, may it be poetry, song, art work, or photography.  

You never know who's life you may be inspiring, what memories you may be creating, and how you may actually be speaking the unspoken words in someone else's heart.

More excerpts...

I wanted to share a few more letter excerpts.  I think everyone can find a little piece of themselves in the words of others...  

"I remember the way I lost myself in loving you and you did nothing but gain through it all.  I remember how I was so afraid to walk away and that when I did it couldn't have felt better.  I remember being scared that I would never be OK.  I remember sleepless night and puffy eyes.  And all of those memories drive me to hate you.  I hate recognizing that I wasn't me then.  I was truer to you than I ever was to myself."

"I avoid you.  I know if I talk to you or try to see you just to catch up I will drag you back in.  I did it to you once before- you broke up with your girlfriend for me, and I won't do it again.  It's not fair for you, but I miss our friendship.  I find comfort in knowing you are out there and you have a serious relationship right now, but the selfish part of me wants to reach out to you.  I don't think we could handle it and I would never do that to you, but I want to-  I never told you."

"I'm scared that as time goes by I'm going to forget.  I'm going to forget how your head always felt in my hands.  I'm going to forget the features of your face that I would trace with my fingers as you closed your eyes.  I'm worried I won't be able to remember the look in your eyes that could melt my heart, or the way you would wrap your arms around me so tightly I felt like the last puzzle piece fitting into it's perfect spot.  I'm afraid you have forgotten me."

I'm listening.

Since I've started this project I've had several people ask me where my inspiration came from.  The truth is, my inspiration for this actually came from simply talking to people.

The human mind has always amazed me... I guess that's why I became a psych major in college.  The way we think and feel varies so greatly from person to person, and I find it fascinating that two people going through the same exact situation in life will handle it dramatically different.  Some people choose to lean on family and friends in times of need, others internalize their grief and try to handle it on their own.  Some become depressed, some become angry, and some fake happiness so well they even fool themselves.

In life, honesty is a rarity.  We often color the truth with what we think sounds better, what we think other people want to hear, or what we wish was the truth but is actually far from it.  This is especially true when it comes to revealing our feelings.  "I love you" and "I hate you" are two of the most powerful sentences in the English language, and can be the most difficult to say.  Even scarier is writing those words down, because once they have been penned you cannot take them back.  You cannot deny them.

I started this project because sometimes, you just need someone to listen.  You need to put your words out there, clear your mind, get everything off your chest, and unleash your feelings.  You don't want someone telling you how you should feel, or how long you are allowed to feel that way.  You don't need another sympathetic head nod, awkward hug, or "It just takes time."  Yes, everything happens for a reason, and that reason is life.

So talk.  Write.  Vent.  Cry.  Laugh.  Be honest.  Ask for forgiveness.  Forgive.  Say goodbye.  Say hello.  Say I'm sorry.

I'm listening.

I Am Thankful...

In honor of Thanksgiving...

I am thankful for my legs.  After spending most of my life despising their shape and size, I've come to realize I could not do what I love most without them... dance.

I am thankful for my scars, both physical and emotional.  They make me unique.  They make me real.

I am thankful for my friends.  They are the air in my lungs, the blood in my veins, and the beat in my heart.  I feel blessed to have such diverse and beautiful people in my life.

I am thankful for my bed.  It's so damn comfortable.

I am thankful for my hair.  It's long and thick and natural and pretty.  It's grown with me.  It rocks.

I am thankful for music.  I'm thankful for the rhythms that move my body and the lyrics that move my soul.  I'm thankful for the incredible artists and songs that have inspired me as a choreographer and as a person.

I am thankful for Strawberry Frosted Mini Wheats, hummus, and pita chips.  These are the sad-but-true staples that make up my daily diet.

I am thankful for my grandparents.  For their infinite wisdom, their inspirational relationships, and their traditions that they have passed down.  There is no love like a grandparent's love.

I am thankful for my family, both immediate and extended.  For the unconditional love, the brutal honesty, the consistent support, and the unsurpassable loyalty.  They are crazy, they are unique, and they are mine.

I am thankful for my heart.  It may be too big, too exposed, and too available at times, but no matter how many hits it takes it still beats strong.

Who or what would you like to give thanks to this season?

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!  Thank you for reading, writing, and sharing...

Excerpts...

The response I have received to this blog in just the past few weeks has truly been amazing.  I was deeply inspired with some of the things people have already shared, and I wanted to pass on their beautiful words.  Here are a few excerpts from different letters and stories I have received from both men and women... I hope you find them as incredibly touching as I did.

"...I took away the fact that, after all is done, you can sometimes smell a person's scent long after they've gone.  I took away the fact that momentary sins of the flesh can lead to a lifetime of what ifs, but fors, and please Gods.  I took away the fact that fingertips have memories, and they remember the curves of a person's body long after your mind has forgotten them.  I took away the fact that when someone says the eyes are the doorways to a person's soul they must not have met me..."

"...Yes you had your heart broken, and I understand how hard it is to move on from that.  I understand that the pain doesn't subside overnight, and there is a literal, physical aching that throbs at the mere memory of that person.  I know what it's like to spend mornings unable to get out of bed because the warmth of your sheets and the softness of your pillow paint the background for the only memories and dreams you have left.  I know the feeling of hearing a certain song and falling to the floor in heaving sobs because you can't believe it's really over.  I understand how shallow and empty your body can feel, as though pieces of you have actually been ripped out and torn apart, and there is nothing there to replace them.  I know all of this because it's how I felt when I lost you..."

"... I must always remember that if I truly love you I must long for your total freedom.  Even if it is from me.  I will not stare at you all day like a foolish child who has won a prize.  I will follow the direction of your gaze so I may see what you see..."

"... I choose to have my fights with you because as much as fighting with you stinks, I love making up with you..."

Sometimes when we are at our loneliest point, it is the words of others that bring comfort, solace, and peace.  Thank you to those who have been so willing to share.  As always, please feel free to send thoughts, letters and stories to clm1126@gmail.com.  

Dreamcatcher

A small, circular, woven hoop sits on the dark, wood blinds in my room.  A handful of feathers hang loosely on top of the object to complete its authentic appearance.  This object is called a "dreamcatcher," and in Native American culture it is believed that hanging it above a child's bed will ward off bad dreams.  The dreamcatcher was a gift I received from my parents after a trip they took out West, and after a month of sleepless nights I had hoped it would live up to my expectations.

Interestingly, I've experienced some extremely intense and vivid dreams in the past week.  It seems as though the creator of this dreamcatcher must have struck a deal with the Ghosts of Relationships Past, because I've had quite a few visits late at night.  Images of people who I have not seen or spoken to in a long time, linger well into the mornings when I wake.  Sounds, touch, and smell are frighteningly familiar, and I find myself taking a moment to decipher which memories have occurred in reality, and which are products of REM sleep.

Where do these dreams come from?  Are they a product of our head or our heart?  Is it a sign we have unfinished business, or a reminder of why our business is finished?

When your dreams speak so forcefully to you, do you listen?

Another chance at goodbye...

I sat at dinner with an old friend the other night, talking about life, work, dating... comparing, contrasting, and sharing war stories.  My friend has quite a history of being a heartbreaker, losing interest in relationships long before their expiration date.  I, on the other hand, missed the memo that wearing your heart on your sleeve went out of style with perms and Hypercolor t-shirts. We got into a discussion about my latest writing venture, and I asked him if there was anyone who he felt affected him enough that he had been inspired to write to.  His answer surprised me.  He told me the only writing of this nature he has is to his grandfather, who passed away suddenly a few years ago.  

Sometimes the people we want to reach out to aren't the ones who broke our hearts.  They may not necessarily be an "ex" or someone we were romantically involved with.  Some of the most significant relationships in our lives are with family and friends who we lose too soon.  So I'd like to adjust my previous posting to include letters and stories that encompass all different capacities of love. 

What unspoken words are left in your heart?