This could really be a good life...

Into the Light or the Darkness?

I love the show "So You Think You Can Dance" for many reasons. For starters, I have no rhythm, can't hear a beat, and therefore suck at dancing, so I love watching others do what I cannot. More importantly, I love the way that the combination of music and movement can speak in ways that words cannot. As much as I am a words person, I firmly believe that sometimes there are limits to what words can convey and that sometimes our bodies must do the talking.

I have a long, long list of routines from all the seasons of SYTYCD that I adore, and most of them are contemporary pieces that reach beyond my mind and into my soul. When I saw the piece in the clip above for the first time, the hairs on my arms raised, my stomach twisted in the tell-tale way, and I started to cry. Perhaps part of it is Dee Caspbary's way of explaining the meaning behind the routine. Perhaps some of it is the way the dancers fulfill his vision. Perhaps it is because I so deeply understand the struggle when being pulled between the darkness and the light.


As someone who has struggled with depression for most of her life, I know how difficult it can be to move out of the darkness. Depression has a way of wrapping her tentacles around you and keeping you weighted down to the bottom of the sea, to the part where light has no chance of ever reaching.

It can be so, so scary to venture out from the darkness after you've lived there for so long. As Marko explains in the video, "I want to go towards the light, but I don't know what's under the light." When you've existed in a place where everything is nuanced, where darkness is comfortable because it is known, when you feel punished every time you allow the smallest part of you to tentatively tiptoe into the light, it is so easy to give up even trying. It becomes so much easier to just stay where the light cannot reach because you cannot be hurt there- at least not in ways you do not already know.

I've been lucky in that I've had loved ones (who both do and do not understand depression) who were willing to reach into the pain and the blackness and the hopelessness and the soul crushing weight of depression to try and help me back into the light. Sometimes they have not succeeded. Sometimes I have pulled them into the darkness with me. But sometimes- through their understanding, their patience, their ability to remain in the light while still holding my hand, in my darkness- I have been willing to venture into the light.

Though in this dance routine, the darkness wins, I have been blessed in my life that sometimes, even if only for a moment, the light wins and I am able to experience life on the other side.

From Winter 2004

"Just Afraid"

We were afraid of everything: poison ivy, a case
of the flu that would leave us in the house for
days, stitches, toothaches, that funny word-Alzheimer's,
that made Grandma forget who we were, measles, chicken pox
that might leave scars. We were afraid we'd

step on a crack and break our mother's back, dying
if we didn't hold our breath past cemeteries, that we'd
walk past a black cat or under a ladder, spilling the salt
on the table, smashing a mirror and having seven years
of bad luck, the number 13, especially Friday the 13th,
especially home alone on Friday the 13th.

We were terrified of the skin-headed, tattooed, Johnny boys
who threw rocks through our windows and burnt
fish behind the bushes next to the lake, tornadoes that would
come during softball games, ants on our blankets at picnics,
Barbie dolls that lost heads, arms, and legs. We were afraid of

having bad grades because our parents would yell at us,
afraid of good grades b/c kids would make fun of us,
getting fat, so we watched what we ate and made sure
to exercise, what we did when our parents didn't see
but God did, of what to say in confession, of what He would do
if we didn't tell Everything.

We were once terrified of cooties, but then wanted kisses.
Were afraid of getting caught playing doctors with the boys
next door, caught sneaking out of the house, caught playing
spin the bottle behind the garden. We were scared that our first kisses
were with girls, that we wanted to wear short skirts and show off
our emerging breasts, that we b/c we left lipstick kisses
on many faces, other girls would call us whores.

We were afraid of our parents' angry voices
that filtered through our bedroom doors as we lay huddled
underneath the sheets in the dark, the sound of dishes hitting
the wall. Terrified of asshole, and bitch, and you mother-fucking-bastard.

We were afraid
that one of the times dad left
he really wouldn't come
back,
and when he didn't come back,
we were afraid.
Just afraid.

That kind of moment

This weekend I went camping on the property of some family friends. Every year they have a huge camping weekend, where all their friends, and friends of friends, come up to swim in the icy river, drink, eat, dance, hike, and play. I only knew the friends I brought, my mom and her boyfriend, and the hosts of the party, but I met a ton of fascinating people.

It was great to spend time with people who are as different from me as possible. I can get so wrapped up in myself and being friends with people like me, that I forget there's a whole wide world out there filled with people who are passionate about things I don't care for. How blessed are we that there are people out there who are passionate? Why do we judge others so quickly because they're different than we are? Why can't we embrace the difference?

I had a great time meeting these new people, sharing in laughter, booze, and music. On the last night as we were all sitting around a roaring campfire, listening to people play the drums, guitar, tambourine, and sitar, as the river rushed in accompaniment, and people danced in front of the flames, I looked around the circle, looked up at the stars, took in a breath, and couldn't believe that this is my life. How did I get so lucky? How did I get to be so blessed?

"...as I know I have squandered
most of my own life

in a haze of trivial distractions,
and that I will continue to waste it.
But wherever I was going, I don't care anymore
because no place I could arrive at

is good enough for this, this thing made out of experience
but to which experience will never measure up
And that dark and soaring fact
is enough to make me renounce the whole world

or fall in love with it forever."

-Tony Hoagland

Happiness Is...

1. Reading a good book until 2am.

2. Long, hard storms.

3. A kind friend offering to buy a movie ticket, b/c you can't afford it.

4. Having time to cook good foods.

5. An old fashion board game night.

6. Playing with fabulous kids.

7. Planning your best friend's Bachelorette party and making the slideshow for her wedding.

8. Planting garlic and watching it start to grow.

9. First Friday Art Night, Mexican food, and a great conversation with a close friend.

10. Hugs from your favorite bartender and the butterflies of having a silly crush.