Dancing with Myself

Just recently I met with a new counselor. She was soft spoken and had interested, caring eyes, and she offered me something beautiful on which to reflect. She held up a flicker of light in a dark place, and the spark has been continuously grabbing my attention. I am thankful to her because a new perspective is always cherished and I have enjoyed reflecting on it for the last few days!

What is this shiny object you ask? It's simple really. She told me something that I have always told myself, but she put it in a way that makes me want to actually embody the knowledge. She told me in not so many words that I am fighting too hard to avoid the dark places in my life instead of accepting that they happen and choosing to be in them. She told me that I'm too hard on myself and my struggle to climb out of hard times, which is stopping me from accepting that they are a normal part of the human experience and choosing to learn from them. She pointed out that my biggest stressor seems to be the struggle to run away from undesirable moments, not the actual murky moment itself.

I sat and stared at her for a moment thinking about what she said. I have always believed that you cannot experience light without dark, that moments of bliss come with moments of sadness, that laughter dances with tears, but something she pointed out made my previous knowledge feel different. I couldn't help but think of a short memoir that Alice Walker wrote called, "Beauty: When the Other Dancer is the Self." I described to my counselor Alice's story of loving her adorable childhood self, but instantly losing self-love in the moment she thought she lost her physical beauty. Alice lost confidence in herself because of the hardships she faced in life. Fortunately her lack of confidence was fleeting because of the way the people in her life chose to view her: with affection, love, and unadulterated admiration. 

Alice Walker ends her story with this:

"That night I dream I am dancing to Stevie Wonder's song 

'Always' (the name of the song is really 'As,' but I hear it as 'Always'). 

As I dance, whirling and joyous, happier than I've ever been in my life, 

another bright-faced dancer joins me. We dance and kiss each other 

and hold each other through the night. The other dancer has obviously 

come through all right, as I have done. She is beautiful, 

whole, and free. And she is also me."

Upon describing this memoir to my counselor, she smiled and asked me what I take away from Alice Walker's memoir. What I glean is not exactly what Alice intended, but upon connecting it to myself, it is exactly what I need in this moment. 

Maura, you are the dancer. Allow your light side and your dark side to move together. They are both you and they both deserve to love each other. Let yourself choose who leads the dance, but recognize that if they are not together, the dance is not as beautiful. 

I'm not sure how I am going to personify this understanding, but embodiment will be my next goal. For now, I'm singing Stevie Wonder's song "As" to myself as a reminder to love myself ALWAYS!!

lovemaura