I tend to search

for reasons for why I do things, like there has to be some vision or driving purpose. But at times - in the middle of my focus - there isn't. When I'm focused on my dancing, for instance, there is no higher purpose. I simply know that I have to do it. If I don't, I lose my sense of self and a sense of direction in my life. I might not even have a goal or end result in mind. All I know is that I have to dance, or else I do not function...I enter a mental cloud and sit around in a feeling of emptiness. I think it's strange how I feel this way, like this type of thought shouldn't be coming from me. It should come from a top-level dancer who has been doing ballroom all his/her life. Dancing is not all of me, yet it is so important to my well-being that I could never let it go...even if there was no real purpose for doing it - besides needing it to live. Like breathing.

There's No Better Feeling

...than feeling like you're right where you should be :). Given all my past goals and given where my life is taking me now, it's amazing how it all works together - but it's so unpredictable! No matter what I do to sabotage my ability to live well (as in being practical and finding a job and a place to live), something always seems to come through. It's as if someone or something insists that I be here and it keeps giving me opportunities and resources.

My New Place

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Tanya picked me up and took me to her apartment, where I’d been having doubts about living. I was afraid of things breaking down and leaks and mold and bugs and of being robbed/mugged. What have I gotten myself into? I asked myself over and over. I wasn't in the bubble of the hostel anymore.

When we arrived, I took my things out of Tanya’s truck and carried them in while she finished cleaning up and then took off for the library. She texted me a short while later to say that she was leaving soon, so I biked back over. When I pulled up to the driveway, though, I noticed her truck wasn’t there. I looked around and thought, You know, this neighborhood isn’t so scary-looking after all. I opened the door and came into the house.

Walking in was magical. It hadn't changed in appearance, but it was different. I looked around and thought, All mine. A place of my own. I knew I’d only have it for two months, but it was wonderful. Tanya is an artist, so there were paintings, photographs, art supplies, and art books throughout the room, like The Story of Art, Worlds of Art. The bathroom had a skylight, so natural light could come in easily. I also had an entire (small) refrigerator all to myself. 

The place wasn’t without quirks and there weren't laundry machines or a stove, either (but I did have a microwave, dishes, and an electric kettle to make tea!). I didn’t care about what I lacked, though, because I’d only be here for two months. And honestly, I loved it. I loved every bit of it. It was artistic and quirky and only mine. I never thought of myself as domestic, because I am such a minimalist when it comes to decorating. But being here,  I now let all my domesticity (wherever it had been lingering) overtake me: I imagined myself living happily here making breakfast, doing chores, and watching movies. I walked around the room slowly, taking it all in and noticing every detail. Then, after a few minutes of basking in solitude, the first thing I did – before I even unpacked – was have lunch. It was only noon and I was already having a great day. 

Here are some photos:

Put Yourself Out There

If there is one lesson that I've learned thus far from moving to Arizona, it's to put yourself out there and I'm having it taught to me in many ways.

First, I'm discovering that opportunities only happen if one makes his or her needs known. This lesson was driven home by someone I met recently named Tanya. She told me that she found her sublet simply by putting an ad on craigslist outlining exactly what she wanted: a furnished efficiency for $300 downtown with all utitilities included. Someone contacted her and she had a home. I know people have done this with jobs and rides as well. I wish I was smart enough to think of that myself - if I can get a dance partner online, I should be able to get housing and even a job - but I guess my practical ingeniuity needs help sometimes.

Second, Shey keeps telling me - like a broken record - to be open. I followed his advice when applying and interviewing for a job and I got it. I emailed the employer and told her who I was and what I was looking for. When I went to the interview, I didn't prepare - I simply went as I was. As weird as this sounds, I didn't think it would work. I thought people didn't want to hear you being genuine - they wanted to hear that you had the skills they were looking for. I was wrong.

I'm also learning that being open and honest is good advice in general. It's what Shey lives by and he seems pretty happy. Keeping to myself is partly an act of pride: I'm afraid that if I reveal too much truth about myself, I'll be humiliated. How does the saying go? "Better for the fool to keep his mouth shut than open it and prove it?" Being open is something I'll have to practice.