Dancing Toward a Dream: and the story continues...

(***central park)

there was a time (a lot of years ago) when i never answered the phone because on the other end would be either bill collectors or high-maintenance rock types. They both seemed to be asking for things that i either didn't have or want to give. When friends would call, I'd more often than not let the machine (remember those) pick up as well. A fact that led one friend to leave messages that went a little like this: "Pick up, pick up, pick up. I know you're there." At which point I'd retreat to the space inside me that was decorated with guilt and stubborness ("No, I don't want to talk. you can't make me," yelled my 5-year-old self. "ooooh, you're such a bad friend," muttered the 20-something me. That room was pretty crowded with voices.) On top of that, i'd often make up fairly elaborate stories about why I hadn't answered. Ones having to do with the running of bath water, small explosions out the window and general mayhem in the streets. People maybe thought I lived in some kind of Calgon war zone.

But my truth was purposefully painted over in these vivid diversionary colors to cover the earthtone existence underneath. Really, I was simply sitting on the couch watching TV, listening to the phone ring and choosing to speak to no one in that particular moment. Imposed isolation didn't mean I didn't love my friends, but it did mean that I wasn't exactly sure how to say No to those other intrusions ("I don't have the money right now." "I don't want to write about your band."), which also spoke to a general unsureness about my power in the world.

Old habits—really more stories I've made up about myself—are starting to (thankfully) crumble. First of all, I was surprised to find that when a certain someone recently entered into my life, he took up some residence in my little telephone (this followed the initial appearance in the land of internet ether, then a live appearance on a bicycle), and his first message left for me said something to the effect of: "I know you don't like talking on the phone, but..." This was a wake-up call of sorts. I hadn't realized i'd been so strident that on an early date I'd just announce (apropos of very little I'm sure) that I didn't like talking on the phone. Jeez. It made me wonder about the brushstrokes I use to paint the impression of me in the world. And how really one-dimensional that picture can be. A velvet picture of dogs playing poker rather than an endless horizon.

Where i see I'm still getting trumped: the hand of money. Because although i'm actually answering the phone now, I'm still often explaining to the people on the other end that No, I can't swing that right now. So I'm tired of this conversation and have to stop playing these cards of lack. Stop seeing myself as someone who can get by with a bluff. Whatever it is that has me still feeling somehow heroic about just making it is not working anymore. Made even clearer by the fact that as I hold a handful of hearts close, realizing how wonderful it is to feel love and return it, I remember how blithely I'd convinced myself that this state of being was something I didn't need. Other people could have happiness like that, but why would I? Have I mentioned wake-up call? So why, I wonder, do I put myself in a place where I don't think I deserve the financial ace of spades as well? It's a bit of ego that says I'm not like anyone else. I don't need love or money. I can get by without. This is not true. I'm finding that. I'm ready to rewrite that fiscal part of the story, too. Because the old one told of someone scrappy who could survive in the land of lack by choice (rather than risk being turned down at the border of more). The new story is someone scrappy who thrives in the province of prosperity. Because I can.

And while I realize that rewrites take patience (a thing I'm learning about while I patiently...ugh...wait for my knee to heal so i can run and dance again. oh, but i feel my agitating impatience tugging on my feet.), I also know that whatever I've thought I didn't need or deserve is worthy of another storyline. I'm reveling with the full house of hearts because I was ready, now I'm ready to pull in a flush of financial prosperity as well. I will answer that call.

(*** these images remind me of how beauty & grace can coexist with often overwhelming surroundings. They're part of The Ballerina Project. so beautiful.)