time travelin'

back in my music-writing days, i was in a band for approximately two weeks. I was the singer. I shouldn't in any way have been the singer because I couldn't (still can't) actually sing. I know that with many rock bands that isn't really an issue. But in truth, those non-singers probably bring a certain flair (or at least a very good auto-tune machine) to the performance. For me, it was mostly just jumping straight up and down in the air over and over again OR standing completely still clutching the microphone. OK, we only had one performance, and it was in another state where the magazine i worked for was putting together a college issue. And we only did covers. In fact, we only performed two songs (I think). And it was in someone's living room. So maybe I wasn't really in a band at all. I could have just been a part of a drunken party moment...tho, we did have an actual rehearsal, and i think that should qualify for a little bit of credibility, even though the microphone wasn't actually plugged in ... oh, never mind.

My reason for bringing this up is twofold. One: I wanted to use the official band picture featured above (it was taken for our publicity material, of which there was none, and for the tiny, nepostistic write-up in our magazine, of which there was one) as an example of how some things never change. Namely: my hairstyle. It seems I've had pretty much the same cut and color for...let's see...ever? Secondly: I'm finding myself traveling a bit back in time even as I take giant steps forward. One of these things is about to change...

My hair. I'm planning on getting it cut. There, I said it to all(?) of you, out loud, in writing. (eeeeek.) so i'll have an update once that happens.

But what's not changing are these movements in time. And for that I'm happy because there is much learning going on. Last night I found myself transported back to a space in my life when I'd stumbled half-clothed into a darkened room (no this doesn't have to do with that previous band time...this is much healthier. stumbling because it was dark in there, half-clothed because that's what was required to move freely) to find a community of women who, while all from very different parts of the physical and mental stratosphere, offered a support and opportunity for my own growth physically and emotionally such that I'd never found before. I reveled in it, rolled in it, clutched it and claimed as my/our own. Back then this group of women grew to be a tough-ass unit of ladies who swaggered with the promise of our power, dried each others' tears of both sadness and joy, encouraged great leaps of faith in mind and body and, ultimately became so tight that at some point it was hard to see where one began and the other ended. And that is when the light stopped being able to penetrate. when in what seemed to be one instance all it took was a little crack for the whole beautiful shell to come apart and find us all human again inside. It was an absolutely necessary rebirth. Out we stumbled, squinting in the light, moving forward, sideways, sometimes backwards. we found our legs again (and our spins and polecats, too...tho some of my fiercer moves i seem to have misplaced, yet I know i'll find them again. the inner stuff is still intact and getting stronger).

so last night, I walked into that same studio for the first time in over a year to lower myself to the ground and close my eyes. not gonna lie, i had some misgivings about how i'd feel stepping back in there with a teacher who i'd put so far up on a pedestal that even when she tried to jump I'd tied her down. then, of course, she fell and i had avoided any chance of letting her lead me again. Now, as she began the warm-up, time both melted away and came into sharp focus. a crazy slideshow in my heart began to flash images of who&what&when. I sensed how very very far i'd come in spirit and strength. the tears had to come too. I was also there to celebrate a very dear original class-ling friend whose new adventure is taking her across the country. As the images/emotions began to pulse a bit faster it became a bit dizzying, but there was such a peace in this acknowledgment of growth and change that i welcomed all of it. all the mistakes and stubbed toes/feelings; all the bruises (in and out) and uproarious laughter. The times that transported us out of the studio and into the world as a unit of awesomeness. But i also realized that floating in that made me a bit pompous. made my swagger just a bit full of ego. While i'm fairly sure we welcomed in the ladies who were doing makeups in class with generosity, i can't help but think we were also a bit intimidating.

Last night I got a dose of humble, and it didn't come with a side of bitter (the sweet kind only). I really tried to appreciate how much learning I get to do on my own with the help (not the crutch) of the people around me who i love. I watched as this class of ladies interacted with each other with a bit of the jaunty that we had had, and there was a twinge, but it was of recognition rather than desire. I left with my muscles aching and bruises forming thinking about how ready i am to cut my damn hair as i slowly dismantle all my hiding places.

dedicated to saturdayS@4 & Bex's new adventure.