Dance Partner

Once upon a time when my aunt was younger, she had some extra spending money and was trying to decide whether to buy a color tv or ballroom dancing lessons. She chose the dance lessons and met a man there who, lo and behold, possessed two color tvs. They fell in love and the man became my uncle.

I always thought that was a romantic story and thought it would be cool to find my partner in dance classes. While I’ve taken a few classes in the past, I don’t quite have the budget for it right now. But it’s something I plan to invest in a little farther down the road.

I was thinking recently about the importance of dance in my life, and how relevant it would be for my romantic partner to be able to / want to dance with me. And I realized that for me, dance isn’t just about physical exercise or a fun hobby. It’s a fundamental perspective on life.

Life is, in and of itself, art; and every movement, every step, every molecule of my body, every breath I take is an act of worship. I may not be a painter, but I believe that my very movements are a way of creating art with my body. So when I do yoga, or give a massage, or hug someone, or shift my weight from foot to foot as I walk heel to toe, my very being is an expression of art. I would hope that my partner recognizes and shares a similar belief in the sacredness of the body. I believe in dancing through life, and I am looking for my dance partner.

I don’t even know a lot about dance. Sure, I’ve dabbled in it here and there, but I’m no expert. I plan to train more formally and become better one day. I don’t expect my partner to be a professional. But it is a way of life I would hope we could share together. Not just because of the physicality of it (which is beautiful). But because of the meaning it holds for me, the idea that the body is sacred, and self-expression is an essential part of who we are.

And maybe I won’t find a partner. Maybe I’m meant to dance alone. But that won’t keep me from dancing nonetheless. Life is too beautiful not to.

“Harp Life” – My Social Media Image

Most of my harp life is pretty boring. I play a few weddings a year, and if I’m lucky I might even participate in a recording project or two. Lately I’ve been trying to “revamp” my online image, and it’s a strange journey to say the least.

Anyone who wants to market themselves as a business online knows the importance of consistency. Depending on the nature of the business and the platform on which it is being promoted, marketing professionals will recommend posting several times a week, if not per day. This will vary across platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, WordPress, etc. The fun part is I enjoy making online content look pretty. The funny part is my life is not as action-packed as I promote it to be. Yet promotions are important to keep oneself relevant, talked about, noticed.

Lately I have been focused on streamlining my image to promote myself as a harpist, and I am working to become more consistent with that across my social media platforms. When I first started this blog, it was in attempt to narrow down my decision on an undergrad major. If you read my older posts, you may see an evolution of my growth, but often I feel like my thoughts are all over the place. Ultimately I have kept this blog going because I enjoy writing about life and things I’m learning or am passionate about. But consistency has always been hard for me.

Still, my efforts are a work in progress, and I’m enjoying the progress I’m making this year.

photo by Sarah Cannavino

Creating an Ideal Day

I often think of things I wish I could accomplish in a given day if I could only muster the motivation to do them. Sometimes they are even things I enjoy doing but haven’t developed the discipline for turning them into regular habits. Therefore, I have decided to list tasks I would love to accomplish in my ideal day:

Write in my blog/practice writing in general
Read 50 pages or so in any given book
Devote time to a yoga practice
Practice harp/work on reading music
Draw
Work on quilt or some craft project
Write to a friend
Create (bake) something in the kitchen
Practice singing
Clean/organize something around the house
Devote time to spiritual reflection/reading/prayer
Bask in sunshine

Last year I had made a list of goals (resolutions, perhaps) which I did not accomplish in 12 months time, other than reading 15 books and cleaning out my car (for I had to get rid of it). This year I want to focus on furthering my self care routines. Since one of the most common New Year’s resolutions this year is to “become a better person,” which is ridiculously vague, I have decided to create my own goals to strive for and grow into.

My list above is not one I can realistically expect to complete daily; however, it helps to outline my ideal day. Because of this, I have something tangible to work toward in making every day an ideal day, whether I complete the list or not.

Long Hunter Pow Wow

My tires matted the grass as I turned off the main road, into the middle of nowhere, also known as Long Hunter State park. From the moment I stepped out of my car, I could hear the mournful voice of a Native American flute winding its way through the trees and to my anxious ears. I had gotten a great parking spot by the entrance of the festival, and my first destination while there was the bleachers surrounding the small stage where the performance was taking place.

While walking through the clearing in the wood, I felt overcome with a sweet sadness I didn’t know how to reconcile. My soul wept with the sky in my loneliness, and yet I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Seeing the livelihood of a people who are too often invisible to me reminded me of my need to connect with nature, to bask in the beauty of the earth. Solitude has a way of doing that to you: of wringing your heart free of the shallowness of petty problems and leaving behind a core of raw emotion, an essence of what it means to be human.

I walked around the field for hours, visiting the different vendors and admiring their art. Not wanting to leave, yet not wanting to stay, I had to tear myself away like a child from her mother. Something inside me connected to this culture, to the stories, the traditions, the heartache. A connection which only a deep loneliness could reveal in its rugged beauty.