Haven Parts

One day Sage chanced upon a strange rock in a burial tomb. It seemed to shatter into soft dust, like limestone, it had a golden glow to it. She became obsessed with the idea of rubbing it into her knees, elbows, all of her legs to heal herself. This must be the last part of the spell.

When I was nineteen I didn’t know how to give myself to another person. I could be present for their every need. I could feel small moments of connection. I felt the bliss of laying on the beach in the vicinity of others for the first time.

When I was very young, I didn’t know how to wish for things to be different. Children are at the vibration of acceptance. I accepted all thing as they were, or imagined they didn’t exist if I did deem something illogical. I was fully present in my duties and daily life, but content to read and journey through my mind. I did not mind being far away from my body, nor was it hard to do.

The creation of ‘freedom’ at age 22. Here is the picture. At 17 I am rigid. My body and heart are like a rock. I withstand any and all attacks. I shut down. At 21 my soul is fighting itself. My body is in agony. It wants to rest. I want to break free from all that holds me down and keeps me stuck. So I let go. I ‘break free’ of all my cares and as one person pointed out, my back muscles were loose. I didn’t seem to have any cares. I had simply thrown them away. But they weren’t really gone. I just stopped looking at my pain.

Choice is important when you haven’t been given one. A hero only feels like a hero if you treat him like one. Even kind words can hurt like thorns sometimes.

Intention is everything. In magic, in sex, in ballet. In food, in anything. You can tell if something was made as fast as possible, not caring about the person receiving it. Time is the most valuable asset and gift. Giving someone your time is the most loving thing you can do.

When I was in the sixth grade I wanted there to be a book written about me, how I had become the greatest ballerina of all time.

In the first edition of what I’m writing right now, I romanticized my dance partner. It was totally fake and only looking at the good parts. The way people view ballet: beautiful, fleeting, ignoring the bleeding toenails, deformed bunions, shattered bones and torn ligaments. Never worrying what happens after 25.

In the second edition of this story, I thought I, and my character, had ‘discovered the true meaning of life - that I had figured out that dreams are for the youth, and that taking care of my basic human needs of food and shelter were all life really was, and if I had one good friend i was blessed. That growing up meant fading away.

Every star is childish in their dream to not fade away.

Seemingly small things can really mess with a child’s sense of what they want, what isn’t comfortable for them. As a kid I didn’t want to change clothes in front of everyone, especially when no one else would be naked. I went to the bathroom to change, and my mom yelled at me and sent an older girl to get me to change out in the open. This was backstage for a show. I was maybe 8 or less. I had already changed, but in my mind I needed to change back to my original clothes to appease her. So the whole process took way longer. Things like this added up to me thinking my feelings don’t matter.

When you recall a time, place, and feeling, the way the air was in that moment, who’s to say you’re not really there? We are time travelers.

It was actually modern dance teachers who were the only ones to tell me, ‘you can’t just stretch muscles one way, or build them up one way, they need to be equal and even. If they aren’t, you’re weak and can get injured.’ I never believed them, but I know it now to be true. Everything in life needs to be balanced. For as much as (ballet) dancers know about muscles and the body, they don’t know it all. My hips were always extremely tight, and there was a certain stretch that I could not do perfectly, and was extremely painful in the bad way, and I had to position myself by using my arms to move my legs. Instead of doing each leg one by one to actually stretch my hips, my teacher wanted me to simply do the full version even though it had no effect and actually was damaging my joints. Years of chiropractic work have shown me that tight hips are caused by a pulling of the spine and neck, and my hips were the cause of my issues with ‘turn out’. I only focused on the outside muscles, while my inside muscles were nil.

Something I had nearly forgotten I had wanted to convey to the world, was the dangers of ballet teachers who scream at little children like it’s normal. From maybe age 7 to 15, I had a particular teacher who would scream at me so thoroughly at every class daily that other girls would tell my mother that I was truly getting picked on. At 12 or 14 I had decided to hold a meeting with her to explain I work hard and that I don’t deserve that treatment. But I was moving schools and decided I didn’t need to. It was jarring to visit years later and see her being borderline kind to children. “I'm tough because you’re talented” just doesn’t fly anymore. When you break the horse you risk just that. Breaking it.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who lived in a tower. And because she had never known anything beyond her tower, she was happy. The stories her grandmother told her all seemed fiction, and so she loved to play imagine and think about things that really didn’t exist. It never occurred to her to think outside of her room.

She walks in memories as we walk down the river at night.

In the years of New York and after I didn’t sleep. For the years after all I did was sleep. All that chaos then all that pain, forcing me to recover. There was a brief period I’d sleep a few days and stay up a few, feeling alive. Able to throw away my worries for a bit. Now I’m balanced, sleeping closer to a normal amount and schedule. Less sleeping in my sleep.

Such detriment to my body. I only have compassion for myself.

Life is a dance of extremes. “I’ll rest when I’m dead” has become me becoming the observer. I have sat still for a long time, and gotten used to it. I have experienced the opposite of doing so much I can’t keep up.

You can’t expect others to do the right thing. This is part of being taught to respect and trust in elders/teachers. I learned alot about boundaries in college. One major struggle I had back then, was involving being pushed past my limits. I knew how much my knees, or heart could take. Yet everyone wanted me to go one push more, saying to push myself. Blaming my stoic face and assuming I was actually healthy and had not been on the brink of collapse for a long time. In comparison to ballet everything else seemed lesser. That I should be able to recover in a less high stake environment, that everything else from ballet in New York City was less high stakes. It wasn’t.

My teacher did somewhat attempt to coerce us into releasing energy. There was so much holding in of muscles and energy, yet there was one exercise we would do, puffing out air and making a large sigh sound. I found it ridiculous. She’d also have us breath deeply especially exhale deeply during certain parts of class especially allegro which is anaerobic. Gradually it became addictive and I was breathing the loudest in the class. It was exhilarating to feel the oxygen running in my muscles and veins. Later on I’d be unable to stop shrieks from leaving my mouth when dancing, such as doing six pirouttes. I had so much inside that needed release.