Bliss

I was having a conversation with a very wise man recently, and yet rather than feeling inspired, I was left confused and annoyed.

This wise man was perhaps, in his signature style, condensing the truth (as he saw it) about the subject into one or two sentences, which troubled me, since I process everything verbally, and speech (whether written or spoken) is truly where I find my peace as I unravel the knots and work things out.

The conversation went something like this:
Me: "I don't know what to do, I want to do something, I just don't know what it is"
Paul (yes that's right, he is the wise man I am referring to): "Just do what you love" (notice how many fewer words he uses)
Me: "But I am just not sure what I love! (in a whiny childish tone...endearing, I know)"
Paul:  "Just follow your bliss" (ok, this statement was a bit frightening as it sounded more like Oprah than Paul, but I swear that's what he said)
Me:"ugh, you don't get it!" (sounding like an angry and rebellious teenager)

Of course, if I am referring to Paul as the wise man, it's because I realize,  in hindsight and a couple of months later, that I am the one who "gets it" now and who was not getting it before.

The truth is, his statement troubled me because it was simple. It was an action statement. Unfortunately I am the kind of person who will go about something in circles and never-ending speculation and regurgitation before I will actually DO something, which I am sure, drives Paul crazy, but that's besides the point.
The point is, action is scary to me. Fear. Action implies commitment, desire, movement and consequences. That is scary to me. Talking about doing something, writing about it and considering all the pros and cons, THAT is where my strength lies, right? Or maybe that is where I lose my life. I lose my life while I am considering what to do with it.

It also troubled me because I truly thought I had lost touch with what I love and would not be able to discover what it is I wanted to spend time exploring and doing. And then what? Scary. There's that fear again.

And it unsettled me because I thought that "my bliss" would translate to my life's work, my career, the thing I spend the rest of my life dedicating myself to. And sadly,  I just did not see anything in my life that could become that, which left me feeling a bit like a loser quite frankly. A scared loser.

Then I started trying to think of it in different terms, and just truly find something that gave me pleasure, and do that, for a while at least. Even though I was still scared. Even though that wouldn't be enough, even though I still had so much work to do to find what I truly wanted to do (or so I thought).

I forget exactly how it came to be that I took a step forward, but I did. Amidst the fear and the doubt, I was SICK of myself and all my "researching" and decided to pick something-anything-that I had been considering and, in the wise words of a very rich advertiser, just DO IT.
Then I promptly found some excuses for why it wouldn't work:

It's too far away
We don't have the money
I don't even know if I will like it
It will probably be a waste of time

Then the annoyed "I've had it up to my ears with all your wishy-washy pondering" side of me took over and the decision was made. I am going. And that's THAT!(that is a reference to "How the Grinch stole Christmas" in case you missed it).

The thing I had decided to do (and had been considering more or less for about SIX YEARS) was sign up for a dance class. Modern dance to be exact. Something I have loved since I was a teenager and have missed since I stopped doing it. You would not think it would be this difficult for a person to realize they love and miss something and decide to bring that back into their lives, but what can I say, it's a gift. I am my own worst enemy.

Much to my own surprise, when the day actually came, I got in my car and drove the whole half hour to the studio (I know, SO far!!!!), I went in and danced.
I danced, boy did I dance. It was like coming back to life. Being in the studio with other dancers,moving and flowing and learning a routine, piecing it together, the rhythm and the sweat, feeling my heartbeat in my throat, and the sore feet.

The whole experience left me wondering "WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME" I could have been feeling like this for the past six years! But, that is the side of me that likes to beat me up, so I promptly shut her up and continued to bask in the glow of my reclaimed inner dancer.

I have been dancing for only a month, but I cannot conceive a time when I would choose not to dance. Or when I would again say that a half an hour in the car is too long or too big a sacrifice. Or when I would find there is something I would choose over this for that time.

For the 90 minutes I am there, something beautiful happens to me, and I would be an absolute fool not to give myself that gift, as often as I can. That is bliss. It's only one little piece of bliss once a week for now, but it is the true definition of bliss. It's not a career, a life's work or anything beyond one dance class. It is the sense of truly belonging in my own body. It is the feeling of closeness to God Himself, to the one He has made me to be,and closest to her full expression. This is bliss, and I am following it, one class at a time, all the way to wherever it takes me.

I guess the wise man with few words was right. Boy, I hate it when he's right!