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A Thing I’m Slowly Figuring Out

I tend to try maintain an aura of ebullient optimism.

I’m aware that I lead a relatively charmed life, in which I’m permitted by circumstance to pursue a fairly impractical set of goals, and to mention that I still struggle seems a bit like spitting right into the face of good fortune.

But I do still struggle, and I’m beginning to understand something, which is this: living a life in which I’m not forced to do work that grinds my soul to powder, in which the work I do is work that I enjoy, doesn’t alter the fact that my mental health is a little fragile and that history and genetics have conspired to place me on a narrow bridge that spans a yawning chasm.

Rather, the life I’m living acts as a kind of safety harness, so that when–not if–I go plummeting off my bridge, I can eventually climb back up, or at any rate be hauled back up by people who love me.

I am capable of periods of immense creative productivity, but they’re interspersed with periods in which merely surviving is still all I can do. Those periods of mere survival are made easier to bear by the knowledge that I won’t have to return, as soon as I’m barely able, to work that will inevitably accelerate the arrival of the next plunge off the bridge.

Because D carries the vast majority of the weight of the financial responsibility of keeping us afloat, I’m able to get up and walk along my bridge for long periods, when in the past I rarely made it beyond the clinging-and-crawling-along-the-edges phase before I slipped again.

I don’t make much money doing what I do, but I usually have enough energy left over to keep our house comfortable to live in and to cook good food.


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Dribs & Drabs

I’m mostly ready to go for the Lexington Ballet intensive, but still sort of managing the last bits of the to-do list.

Mr. Merkah approves of my dance bag:


Feline supervisor says the dance bag is okay to go!

…Though possibly less so now that it is one again crammed full of dance junk and waiting in my car.

(Of note: my dance bag is really a tool bag that I got on sale for $5 at a local hardware place. It has nifty inside pockets for essential dance things like shoes, VetWrap, a million bandages, a lacrosse ball, etc. Also makes it easy to spot in a lineup of properly dance-specific bags.)

This time I’ve remembered to pack bandages and cloth tape just in case I somehow wind up with a blister. I’ll be AirBnB-ing it the first three nights, then spending the last two at an inexpensive hotel with a pool (hope it has a hot tub!).

Today while I was demonstrating assemblé, Aerial A said, “Just like that, only without the beats.”

Didn’t realize that I had been doing assemblé battu, heh. It may have been an artifact of practicing cabrioles avant before class.

In other news, this picture about sums up how I feel right now:


Someone please get me a blanket?

After dinner, I am planning on a long soak in the tub followed by an early bedtime.

Tomorrow, we dance.

(And then we drive halfway across the state, and then we dance again.)

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