Fall & Nostalgia

When I was a young girl I’d bother my mother by asking her to buy pretty journals for me.  I remember I’d get frustrated when I couldn’t fill the pages up. I had several pretty journals, so much to say, but trouble communicating in writing. That’s why I love to dance. Everyone seems to understand me, even though I’ve said nothing. Still, there was something about writing that intrigued me. I didn’t have to use my voice. Yet, I couldn’t translate my thoughts or stories into text. My solution- I’d grab my favorite disney stories, a dictionary, and copy words and definitions onto my journal. No particular order, nothing made sense…

Welcome Fall.

As the season changes, my mood and aura shifts. For some reason, Fall has always instigated thoughts of nostalgia for me, as well as others. It’s the Season of Aging Leaves. We’ve aged with them, we can’t help but cling to old memories. The vibrant Summer colors are slowly beginning to change too. I welcome the new season, especially the Fall color wave amongst the trees and plants. I can’t wait for the abundant pigments of yellow, orange, and red to surround me… for the Wind to flirt with my flesh.

The Wind spins, and I spin with it.. As of late, the momentary pauses have felt like a twilight zone. I can’t believe how I’ve gotten to this position and stage in my life. I’m proud, but we are our own worst critics. I wouldn’t change who I am, but at times I can’t help wonder what I could do to be better.  What can I do to honor who I really am? Like a bird without wings, I’m saddened because my creativity is hindered. A shift in priorities… a shift in my state of mind, body, spirit. Am I my own obstacle?

As a child, my favorite part of dance class was improvisation. That means- play the music and let me dance whatever and however I felt in the moment. My dance teachers gifted me with physical knowledge and technique. My gift to self was utilizing that knowledge and technique to reach levels of freedom and happiness.  I lived for the moments that escaped social realities. I still do. I like to create my own world, one where I’m  the only citizen. Not much has changed, I’m still that introverted girl who randomly blurts out the thoughts that are tired of staying in. That introverted girl who is oblivious to her surroundings, but enamored with Flowers and Sky. That introverted girl lost in thought. That introverted girl dancing inside her head. The only problem is.. I’m no longer a girl. I’m Woman, but the young in me craves those trapped childhood desires. A layer within a layer within a layer.  How can I be so free if the real world I live in judges, binds, and defines me? Everyone thinks they understand- they don’t understand the wild heart and spirit of mine. Society and institutions often constrain me. They define my intellect, talent, and worth…

I just want to play music, dance, and say  what needs to exude out of me. I want to use this knowledge to be free, but society insists on defining me. So, I stay quiet and keep their treasures.


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