Less Perfection, More Joy (Blog #829)

Currently I’m out-of-town. This morning, again, I woke up with a sinus infection. Color me not impressed. Oh well. This isn’t my first sinus infection rodeo, so I’ll continue to try various home remedies until something works. Historically, something has always worked, so fingers crossed. In the meantime, I’m taking it easy. This afternoon I finished reading a book about headaches that said headache sufferers are usually perfectionists and people pleasers. Check and check. These are things I’ve been working on–loosening up on myself, not giving a fuck what other people think.

Last night, Saturday, I attended the wedding of the couple I’ve been teaching the Dirty Dancing routine to. Y’all, this has been a journey. We had our final practice Friday night, and parts of it were still rough. A few times they successfully completed the big lift at the end of the dance, but a few times they didn’t. So yesterday I was a nervous wreck. My friend Matt attended the wedding with me, and I told him, “I honestly have no idea how this is going to go.” Eventually, the big moment came. After the ceremony happened and the room was flipped for the ceremony, the couple was announced and made their way to dance floor. First they did a traditional (high school prom style) first dance, then the music from Dirty Dancing started.

As their friends and family began cheering, the couple proceeded through their routine. Was it perfect? No. They weren’t always on beat. But was it fun to watch, enjoyable for both them and (I’m assuming) everyone in the room? Yes.

Absolutely.

Just before the big lift moment, something happened I didn’t know was going to. The groom’s best man and groomsmen, seven guys altogether, made their way to the floor and crouched down behind the groom in order to catch the bride if the lift didn’t go well. Later the groom told me, “I wanted her to feel safe and have extra confidence when jumping.” Perfect, I thought. It really was the cutest thing. And the best part? She didn’t even need the extra support. The couple totally nailed the lift, better than they ever have before. Phew. Talk about a cause for celebration.

Personally, I couldn’t have been prouder. As for the couple–and yes, I’m about to go there–they had the time of their lives.

Matt said he’s seen videos online of couples doing that lift who really screwed it up–brides who fell into their own wedding cakes and shit like that. Talk about embarrassing. So after “my” couple hit their mark, the rest of the evening was a breeze for me. Matt and I sat with some friends of mine from Fort Smith, and we laughed, laughed, laughed. Then when the dance floor was opened to the general public, Matt and I cut a rug to several west coast swing songs. This completely made my night, especially since this was my first time dancing, really dancing, since my knee surgery six months ago. Even better? My knee performed beautifully and isn’t in any pain today.

Woot.

As for the rest of today, I plan to go swing dancing tonight. Granted, I could drive back home and try to take care of my sinuses, but they aren’t the worst ever, and dancing is a real stress reliever for me. I could use this relief. I think about my students last night and how, even though their routine wasn’t perfect, they had so much fun and experienced so much joy. This is what I want for my life. Less pressure, more fun. Less perfection, more joy.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

Everything is all right and okay.

"

On False Emergencies (Blog #827)

Last night I hung out with several friends for the Fourth of July. I snapped the above picture of me, my friend Kate, and her son at the party–because all three of us had holiday-inspired shirts on. (No one else did. Lame.) Mine said, “Tastes Like Freedom,” Kate’s said, “Firewerks,” and Kate’s son’s said, “I’m here for the hot dogs.” (Me too, kid, me too.) Anyway, we had a blast (get it, a blast?), but I didn’t get home and crawl in bed until after midnight. And whereas going to bed late isn’t unusual for me, since I also had to get up early this morning to go out-of-town for a wedding, I’ve been dragging ass all day.

The dragging ass part may have to do with my sinuses. Last Sunday I woke up with an infection but ended up kicking it in the butt earlier this week thanks to my adventures in probiotics (that is, sniffing probiotics up my nose). Really, I felt so much better mid-week. Still, I may not have completely turned the corner, since my energy has been low today and I’ve been a little snotty. I’m trying not to worry about it. Things could be worse, I keep telling myself. It’s not the end of the world. Nonetheless, since I don’t travel with my (refrigerated) probiotics, I hit the health food stores this afternoon to buy more supplies. Just to be safe.

We’ll see what happens. Only time will tell.

Other than the probiotics run, I’ve spent most of my out-of-town day going to bookstores. Believe it or not, I only bought one book–about gargoyles. I started to pick up a couple others, but searched the internet and found out I could read them for free through an online library I’m a member of. This is one way I’ve learned to save both money, physical space (in my room), and time (dusting)–using libraries. What a miracle! That being said, I’m currently maxed out the number of books I can check out online, and there’s all this pressure for me to read my butt off this next week so I can return the books completely read. This pressure, of course, is self-induced and what I call a False Emergency. Because the truth is nobody gives a damn if I read those books or not. The earth will keep spinning no matter what I do.

Speaking of False Emergencies, let’s talk about the couple who’s getting married tomorrow. They’re the ones who have been taking dance from me for a while, learning a routine. This evening we met for their final lesson before tomorrow’s performance. And whereas they got all parts of the routine “down,” they didn’t get them all down at at once (in one run-through). Granted, they’ve come a LONG way since they started a few months ago, and they look good. But, like I told them tonight, routines are inherently a funny thing–sometimes you nail them and sometimes you screw them up. Who’s to say what’s going to happen tomorrow? Anyway, that’s my point–I could worry about it, they could worry about it–but regardless, whatever will be, will be.

So don’t worry, be happy right here, right now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

No one is immune from life’s challenges.

"

On Tragedy, Trauma, and Transformation (Blog #797)

Phew. I just spent the entire day working. Twelve straight hours. This morning I began cleaning a friend’s house, which I’m taking care of this week. And whereas I was a bit overwhelmed when I started (it’s a big house), I’ve just been taking it room by room, piece of furniture by piece of furniture. My friend’s dog isn’t helping. In fact, when I took him for a walk this evening in the rain, he came back in the front door and promptly shook all the water off in “my” clean living room. The nerve!

Thankfully I hadn’t mopped the floors yet.

After nearly six hours of cleaning, I switched gears and went to my friends Todd and Bonnie’s to finish installing door hardware, a project I’ve been working on for a couple weeks now. This evening I put locks back on doors–um–four locks successfully. One lock broke (whoops), and another is missing parts. Who knows where they went! Next, I took a shower. Then I taught a dance lesson to a couple who’s getting married soon. The guy was so excited that he jumped up and down. I wish all my students did this. That being said, most of my students do pay me, and that makes me jump up and down, so–next best thing.

Now I’m back at my friend’s house. After walking the dog I thought about cleaning some more but then thought it better to write before my brain quit working. However, when I sat down in this chair, everything quit working–my brain and my body. Seriously, I could pass out right this very minute. Is this what people who have jobs and work all day feel like–exhausted?

Manual labor–it’s for the birds.

I’m joking, but it actually feels good to be tired. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes from knowing I’ve worked hard not just today but lately. Todd and Bonnie’s looks so good–the doors are freshly painted (some else’s work), they open and shut properly (I hung some and other people adjusted them), and all the antique hardware absolutely pops. Likewise, the place I am now is beginning to sparkle. There’s still a lot to do (hopefully tomorrow), but I made a serious dent in things today. Recently a jet-lagged friend told me they cleaned their house instead of sleeping–because “it’ll feel so good when everything is finished.” This is the satisfaction I’m talking about, the yeah-it-was-tiring-but-I-did-it feeling.

This tired-but-satisfied feeling is what I often feel regarding this blog. I mean, after almost 800 days in a row, it’s starting to get old. Not that I don’t love it and not that it doesn’t do a lot for me–it does, it’s changed my life–but it wears me out. This is often the case with things that transform us. They take everything we’ve got and then some. While cleaning today I listened to a lecture about Goethe’s Faust (I and II), and the speaker said that Faust I ends in tragedy. Faust’s wife dies after killing their baby. (I know this is a spoiler alert, but the book is over two hundred years old, so it’s not like you haven’t had a chance to read it.) This is the deal on planet earth, the speaker said, tragedy comes with the territory. But don’t fret. Whereas a lot of modern interpretations of Faust end the story in despair (at the end of Faust I), Goethe intended and wrote a different ending (Faust II), an ending that includes Faust’s healing and transformation.

In other words, things get better.

Our traumas can transform us.

I’ve learned not to bemoan the horrible things in life. Not that you’ll never hear me complain about having a long day or an aching body. Complaining is too much fun. But in terms of the big stuff–the major traumas and ordeals–I don’t see the point in grousing. Because we all have shit happen. Considering the fact that our traumas can transform us if we let them, they don’t have to be the worst thing. Granted, transformation isn’t a passive act. You have to do your part, or your traumas could transform you into a resentful, bitter ass. Yes, there’s work to be done. Houses and door knobs don’t clean themselves, and neither do your insides. I wish it weren’t this way on planet earth. I wish The Hard Work weren’t required to achieve almost every truly satisfying thing. But I don’t make the rules around here. If you’re a phoenix and want a new life, you’ve got to go through the fire.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

You absolutely have to be vulnerable and state what you want.

"