New world

Its different. Its all so different than before. There has never been anything like this. He tells me its ok to fear. That the fear itself will not keep us apart. He tells me to not worry about telling him. In fact he insists upon it. This is a strange new world I've become apart of. In this world I am justified, I am right, and I am treasured. There has never been a world like this. Its a world so of our making that I am completely comfortable in my own skin. I feel like I could never be comfortable anywhere else. Its like this place is filled with that cool refreshing breeze that you enjoy on a warm summers day, on the breeze will never make you too cool and the sun will never make you too warm. It is perfection. All because we have created it, and we will nurture it until not only can we talk about the worry and the fear, but until they both disappear in the vast blissfulness that becomes our new way of being.

I dream

I dream. I dream of a day with no sadness. I dream of a day where the smile on my face comes not from a momentary, fleeting pleasure but rather from a deep seeded knowledge of the love I have for others and that they have for me. This is my dream. This is my hope. This will become my life.

Dance Dance

Occasionally in my life I will come across holes, or feels or emptiness. Lately there has been the one hole that keeps appearing. It was at one point filled with my love and obsession with swing dancing. This of course is not to say that I don't love it anymore, but its different. Sometimes I find it very hard to accept the changes in my life.

In university I used to dance every week. In fourth year, I was the president of the club and I danced every Monday, had meetings on Tuesday, performance practice on Wednesday, and maybe also on Thursday, and was out-of-town at a weekend workshop for classes or at least for the dances two or three weekends a month.

Now, I dance sometimes. The fact that I have made it out-of-town twice this year so far excites me, but an event just passed, and I missed it. This is the second year in a row that I didn't compete at CSC (Canadian Swing Championships). Now while I hate to be in the spot light and become immensely self-conscious and nervous before performing, every time CSC passes, I miss how much fun I used to have dancing.

If you were to suggest that I go just start dancing more, its a little more complicated than that. There are two main reasons why this is hard.

The first, and I really do not mean to sound at all snobbish, is that the dancing in Kingston is not at a level which, for the most part, I really enjoy. You see every three or four years there is a wave of dancers who are dedicated enough to go and learn more and challenge themselves to become better. I was a part of the last wave, and the next wave hasn't hit yet. (Plus its hard when all the young twenty somethings don't understand whats its like outside of university yet).

So, second, if I was to dance more I would be drawn outside of Kingston. But, while I work a minimum wage job, that is composed of shift work and booking of a weekend costs me around a hundred dollars. And workshops cost travel and classes (90+), and dances (20+); it really does not seem feasible to go often.

Alas this leaves an empty spot that is only sometimes filled when I reminisce about past adventures or when I convince others to try the dance I love.

Sigh.

Whatever matters to me, matters in this world

So for awhile now I've been seeing this picture in a variety of places, and all I could think was "I'm in that photo, I wish I could see where". So i have spent some time examining the feet, trying to remember where I was standing, and even trying to find everyone else I knew was in the photo. I believe there are 13 of us.

But then today while looking for blank Cds, I find this one Cd labeled SpringStaff '07 pictures and I thought I'd check it out. Why not right? Memories are fun. While perusing I discover this next photo which is taken probably thirty seconds after the first one just from the other side of the platform.

Finally I know where I am in the photo, though sadly neither picture shows that Sara is in the middle.

Pretend

She gazed down at herself. No way, she thought, no way could anyone ever see me as strong?. Do they never see me bite my lip in worry? or how, like at this moment, my toes are pointed together because I'm so unsure of myself?

Gazing around the room she mentally checked off the times when these people had come so close to seeing her break down. Would she be seen as an impostor then? Because that is how she felt when hanging around them. She must never let them see her cry.
She was so torn, torn between confusion that these individuals couldn't see the real her, her pain that made her tear up oh so often, and pride that she has successfully convinced them that she was such a strong person that nothing affected her.
Then for a brief moment she relaxed, and smiled a little smile. The kind that you give when you have a little secret joy inside of your heart. For her it was the joy that her efforts had paid off, and that she had not blown her cover in front of them. It lasted for only small time, a smidgen of a second, before she remembered how much it costs her to not be herself, to play pretend all the time, and then her toes turned inwards towards themselves once again.

ʃeɪm

This is something I found while cleaning my room.

"As a part of the wounds we receive growing up, we come to believe that some part of us, maybe every part, is marred. Shame enters in a makes its crippling home deep within our hearts."

Shame is what makes us look away, so we avoid eye contact with strangers and friends.
Shame is that feeling that haunts us, the sense that is someone really knew us, they would shake their heads in disgust and run away.
Shame makes us feel, no, believe, that we do not measure up.
Shame grips our hearts and pins them down, ever ready to point out our failures and judge our worth.
Shame keeps us pinned down and gasping, believing that we deserve to suffocate.

- If we were not deemed worthy of lovve as children, it is incredibly difficult to believe we are worth loving as adults. -

Shame says we are unworthy, broken and beyond repair.
Shame causes us to hide. We are afraid of being truly seen. We put up protective, defensive walls that warn others to keep their distance.

* Hide your heart * You are a disappointment * Worthless * No one cares * No one wants to care * You are alone * It must be me * Something is fundamentally wrong with me *

I live a life of selfprotection because I live through a broken heart.