Breaking through

A while ago, I posted a Rumi poem for friends who were going through some “tough shit”.  I must admit, I was one of those people going through tough shit on that day.  Alice’s death hit me much harder than I initially realized it would.  It prompted me to remember the depth of the sadness that I felt when Kevin died.  I still remember that time in my life vividly. 

After the holidays, Kevin dropped me off at East Carolina for my second semester of classes.  He stayed a few days with Becky and me in our dorm, and we became pretty clever, sneaking him into the room before the curfew.  Until the last night.  We stayed out at the downtown bars until closing time, and stumbled back home (luckily in walking distance) to White Hall.  We were not so sneaky this night, and completely got busted by the RA.  Looking back now, I see it as divine intervention.  Kevin and I got kicked out of the dorm, and made our way to a hotel not too far away.  It was our last night together.  A day later, he was gone. 

Details of that time keep rushing back into my memories.  In many ways, it is overwhelming to remember.  Now, I see it as a gift.  When I was 18 and going through such deep grief, I had no idea what I was dealing with.  Now, it is becoming clearer and clearer.  It was not just a moment in time, it was a part of my dharma.  Kevin fulfilled his dharma in this lifetime, and our paths were meant to cross in such a way that I was there with him in the end. 

Here I am sixteen years later.  I have protected myself and kept myself safe, creating boundaries that would only let others in to the extent that I would allow.  I was in control. 

My lesson this week is to let go of that control, and to remember that I am supported by a much larger source of grace.  So, I planted my feet in the cool earth, stood by the creek, lifted my heart to the sky, trusted, and…DROPPED BACK!

For those of you not up on the yoga lingo… a drop back is a ”maneuver” in which the practitioner is standing upright, and leans back all the way into a full backbend.  Two years ago, I was dropped by a teacher in a drop back, and my head landed on the cement floor.  Luckily, I still had my hands on the ground, and I pushed my arms straight again, so I came back up out of it pretty quickly.  I know my inability to do a drop back until this point was a matter of trust. 

So, last week, my heart was full of trust for myself, my strength, my courage, and the support of the divine to carry me through all of my actions.  It was though I was hovering in that trust before my hands hit the earth.  When they did, my first mindthought was, “Hey, that wasn’t so bad!”

Once I finally accomplished this feat of faith, I felt invinsible.  It is as thought something in my physical body shifted to give me another perspective of the ability that I had within all along.  Just what I needed to propel me into my Friday night “breakthrough performance”. 

As you may know, I performed Liza Minelli in Cabaret (in lip-sync fashion) for the Friday night performance and fundraiser at Thalian Hall.  On Monday, I realized that being up on stage in high heels was a lot harder than I thought it would be.  About halfway through the dress rehearsal, I lost my focus and started sensing the fear in my body…predominately in my legs.  I felt the fear that rushed back to me reminding me of the time I stood above the 60 foot waterfall, getting ready to jump.

So, all week, I was attempting to shake the fear.  I continued to drop back.  It reminded me that I was supported, and that I could have faith in that support, no matter what. 

On Friday night, I stood behind the scenes watching all of the performers having the time of their lives.  Three minutes of fame, shining on stage, completely in the flow of the moment, having complete trust that it’s gonna be what it’s gonna be.  So, that’s what I did. 

I walked out on stage, and could not see a thing but the spotlight.  I embodied Liza…actually, I embodied Sally Bowles.  “What good is sitting all alone in your room?  Come hear the music play.”  It was a perfect song for a perfect time in my life.  I was Sally.  I felt my friends up in the balcony (probably because they were screaming the loudest) and sang to them.  Life is a cabaret that I plan on enjoying to the fullest!

Stay tuned for more contemplations on the performance, and if my technical abilities match my lip-sync-abilities, perhaps you will also see the performance itself…the best reason to continue to check back soon!