It started with yoga — my journey. Yoga for me was like peaking through the blinds of my bedroom window. It opened up space — for me to breathe, to be, to sit — to have a little more “me” space — to feel the light of the sun, just barley, as it washed over the mostly shaded, mostly covered window by my bedside. I look back now, in sadness, knowing I had kept the blinds shut for so long. I didn’t even think there could be something more than what I already knew. Who knew those tassels on the side of the blinds were actually for us to use?
Next came meditation. Meditation was like opening up the whole window, realizing suddenly, that there is more to life and I can actually see it, now. It was like finally seeing the sun that rested on the other side of my bolted window, and it’s pure beauty waiting aimlessly, for me.
When I went to therapy — many, many years later, I finally decided to take a step outside. It was new. It was different. It was scary. It was like living inside of a foreign language — confusion, curiosity, uncertainty stirred within me, along with words and emotions and feelings I hadn’t understood before. Certain objects started to catch my eye — things I used to not think twice about. I have never lived outside, before. This new scenery, the new people, new animals, new nature, new — everything was beginning to feel overwhelming. I found myself searching for higher ground — for something, some animal or person or piece of nature I could hold onto, for fear of being exposed. For fear of being out in the wilderness all alone, with no one to support me if I fall.
Eventually, the overwhelm got to be more subtle — like I was adapting to the outside world, bit by bit. At the same time I found myself intrigued by all of the new things I had yet to discover —branching out from the same old things I’d previously been comforted by. It was like there was more to pay attention to, more to focus on, and more to discover.
Currently, dancing is my ‘thing’. Dance is more than just being outside. It’s being in the wilderness, and embracing life. It’s about taking all the beautiful things that life has to offer and actually using them. Dance is magic. It is the truest expression of my soul.
Finding my path home has been a journey. It has been complicated and messy and worrisome, at times. It has also been moving, and inspiring, and awe-provoking. Your path might look a lot different. It might be mixed with writing, or art, or tai chi, or music — but they all do the same thing. They brings us home — to ourselves.
