So today is ‘Y’ day in The Blogging A-Z April Challenge, which means it’s over tomorrow with ‘Z’! And, well, I’ve been thinking, no better time than the present to open up and tell you all my dirty little secrets, yes?
I’ve been dancing since the age of two, and when I graduated high school, dance took me to New York and Toronto, and then back to my hometown of Vancouver.
Here’s a silly video of footage from a couple years ago that makes me cringe, but is usually passable for the general public:
Anyways. So I come back to Vancouver summer of 2012 to a summer dance intensive aaaaand…
The first rule of shitty situations is to make sure you joke about them so others aren’t uncomfortably sympathetic around you. Eg. “They’re getting the Mars Curiosity to detour over to my knee.”
I swear it didn’t hurt that much, but maybe that’s the drugs talking.
Long story short, the world’s most uncommon knee injury; in which the ligament actually is so strong it pulls off a piece of the kneecap and carries it over to nomads land where it must be recaptured and reattached to the rest of the patella with screws through surgical procedure.
Anyways, though I’ve healed a HUGE amount since not being able to walk etc, I’ve been in a dance program that I can’t do most of, and I’m starting to realize that everything happens for a reason, and maybe I’m just being ignorant to the huge slap in the face life gave me.
To be honest, the biggest slap in the face is the HALF banana you’re given post-op. You’d think after all that you’d be deserving of a whole one…but ’tis not the case.
And here’s where finding yourself comes in.
Now, I’m no hippy, and I don’t think you are necessarily going to find yourself on top of Mt. Kilimanjaro, in the Irish countryside, or buried in the sands of a Thai beach, but rather, that finding yourself might mean losing a piece of what you thought you were.
My whole life I have been a “dancer.” I was always “the dancer” among my friends, and I was always introduced as being “the dancer.”
Then all of a sudden, I couldn’t dance.
By the logic that I am “a dancer”, I should have ceased to exist. But I didn’t. I’m still Kat. So it occurred to me that we are more than how the outside world labels us. We aren’t completely defined by what we do or what we say. Even our specific likes and dislikes are rather superficial. I think that mostly, who we are is in our outlook; in our beliefs.
For most of my existence, I’ve been so caught up in being a dancer that I’ve never even tried to figure out who I am beyond that. I’ve hidden behind the label and let it speak for me, instead of speaking for myself. Labeling yourself makes it easier for others to see you as another thing that already exists, instead of the unique person you are.
I need to take at least a year off of dance. Maybe I’ll go back to it, and maybe I won’t. If I do, I believe that exploring different ways of fulfillment will only make me a better artist. After all, dance isn’t all about having pretty feet and working knee joints.
So it’s a fork in the road, (a ‘Y’ in the road, if you will). There’s a million things I want to try, and a million places I want to explore. I want to do everything; meet everyone; taste all the ice cream flavours, you know? If the path I’d been going down hadn’t cracked at my feet, I would have just stayed on it because it’s the only one I’ve ever known. It’s only now that I see the network of possible trails that is in front of me.
I mean, consistency in life? No, no, that’s where we all get fooled. Because life itself is defined by change, growth, and diversity.
(Added bonus ((or perhaps the opposite)), here’s a voice cracky, key changey, acapella version of “What I Wouldn’t Do”, by A Fine Frenzy, dedicated to all the ‘you’s, and everything that comes and goes 🙂 )
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