I've been avoiding writing this. And I'm not really sure why. Because, really, it's quite an amazing story to tell! Oddly, this story is actually two stories woven into one. There is a post on this blog titled "For Good" in which I tell about a sweet friend that God brought into my life at the end of last summer. But, unknowingly to me, God needed that sweet friend to be in my life for a far greater purpose.
Here goes the tale...
As I've mentioned in a previous post, I've danced most of my life. Throughout elementary, middle, and high school, I took a large slew of dance classes. Dance has been my passion. Dance has been my go-to to get me through things. So when I don't have dance, I tend to not know what to do with myself.
When I got into college, dance wasn't as easy to come by. Sure, I was on the dance team for 2 different years. But when my junior year came by, due to some circumstances stemming from my sophomore year, I was cut from the dance team my junior year. I tried to let other things take the place of dance. My junior year of college, I lived in an all-girls dorm that also had a "great hall" attached to it (big open space with a wood floor). Occasionally, I'd take myself, a pair of dance shoes (I was always prepared with ballet slippers and jazz shoes...and a pair of tap shoes, if I'd need them), and some form of music-playing device...and make my way down to that big open room and dance around. There was one point in my college career, when I thought God was calling me into the international missions field, that I thought I'd need to raise some money. So, I was attempting to put together a dance benefit for missions. The only issue with my idea was that I didn't know anyone else who would perform....so I was looking at being a one-girl show. It was a fun idea, but unrealistic. Sure, most of the girls in my sorority claimed to love "dance"...but some of them meant more along the lines as the "dance" they would do after a little too much alcohol...and preferably using a pole to dance around and on. It was always hard for me to find a way to express myself when I didn't have dance.
I've mentioned in other areas of this blog about some of my struggles towards the end of my college career. Along with those struggles, anxieties, and even some depression, food and I were either best friends or worse enemies. I prided myself with NOT gaining the "freshman fifteen" my freshman year. However, by the end of my college career, I'd gained what I'll call the "senior seventeen"...plus interest. A lack of regular workout mixed with ongoing anxiety and hormonal issues created for a few increases in weight. My senior year of college, I'd tried to get a friend to join me in finding a regular fitness outlet...but her schedule was too busy to accommodate that and my wallet was too empty to purchase all the DVD workouts I wanted to get to try to do!
By the time I moved home after my fourth year on campus (I still had one more semester to go for student teaching), I was in need of a fitness outlet. A friend from church had been telling me about how her mom taught Zumba classes at the YMCA in the same town my church was in. After a little more prodding, I finally decided to check out the Zumba class. I enjoyed it. It wasn't the same as my dance classes I had taken. However, a few months prior to taking my first Zumba class, I had gone back to my dance studio to take a couple classes over the winter break. Between tendonitis in at least one knee and not dancing regularly for a while...my body was in so much pain after that class. A couple weeks later, when I left to go back to college...my body was still aching from that dance class. I had somewhat decided at that point that going back to dance classes wasn't really much of an option for me anymore. So, Zumba seemed to be a decent alternative.
I took Zumba through the summer. However, a few weeks into my student teaching semester, I was starting to get too overwhelmed with the demands of my student teaching along with the part-time job I'd gotten. I ended up giving up Zumba for the rest of the semester until after student teaching ended. I remember going back to my Zumba class the first time after student teaching ended. I wasn't sure if any of the people in my class would remember me...or even notice that I had left. While sitting in the lobby of the YMCA, a couple of the ladies from my class asked where I had been. Before heading in to the room for class, I still remember one of the ladies telling me "well I can tell you that you were definitely missed!" Maybe to some that was a simple comment...but it meant a TON to me. I realized in the next couple weeks that I could combine my love for teaching and my love for dance...and opted to become a Zumba instructor a couple months later at an instructor training that would take place at the same YMCA.
I began teaching Zumba in March 2012 with high hopes. But, things didn't really work out the way I thought they would. In August 2012, I moved to North Carolina and in August 2013, I moved back to Ohio. I wasn't able to do much with my Zumba training while in North Carolina. After getting back to Ohio, I went back to the same YMCA, but Zumba had taken a toll over the past year and wasn't gaining as many people as it had been a year ago. I started getting frustrated that I had been an instructor for over a year and had never taught my own class. I was regularly teaching 2-3 songs during the Zumba class...but I had a playlist of 10 songs. Those 2-3 barely scratched the surface. I started looking at other places and eventually landed a Zumba job in the same town as my college alma mater.
I could spend a decent amount of time on this blog depicting the next 2 years teaching Zumba. But...that's not the point. After 2-3 years of being an instructor and not having my own class, I finally got my own class...but I had started to become burned out. I'd been using a lot of the same music and choreography for those 2-3 years. Since I hadn't really taught my own class, I didn't see a reason to change things that much. As I started teaching my new class, I made the shocking discovery that my participants were "average". All of a sudden my 13+ years of dance training seemed to make me almost a little too over-qualified to teach. As time went on, I started not really liking a lot of the Zumba music and the choreography seemed too hard. The choreography was fine for me (the girl with years of dance training) but wasn't "fitness for all" for my "average" people in my class. I had to spend a lot of time that I didn't always have modifying choreography to make it easier...then having to deal with not-so-great reviews of my class because apparently now the songs weren't "Zumba-ish".
And then my sweet friend walked (or actually danced) into my life. As our friendship grew, it became easier and easier to talk to her about dance. I even remember a couple times talking to her, using a dance analogy to get my point across...and she understood exactly what I meant. But the thing is, our friendship wasn't just based on our love for dance, but also on our love for Jesus. (Please see the blog post "For Good" for more of the story on her...).
Throughout my new-found excitement with my new friends that I'd been getting to spend some time with, my friends breathed Jesus in to me every day. No matter if it was a Bible study or a verse they posted on Facebook, a message on a group page on Facebook, a text message to one or multiple friends...this group of friends daily lived and breathed Jesus. When they posted songs on Facebook, it wasn't the newest song on the secular station...but something from church or on the Christian station that had been touching their hearts. This started having an impact on me.
I started choreographing more songs for Zumba. Only this time I was using Christian songs. I loved it. My participants loved it. But there was a problem. Zumba has a rule that in order to have a legit Zumba class, you have to follow a 70/30 format...70% of the choreography and music had to be Zumba-released...the other 30% could be what you want. I was already way past that 30% mark. I tended to be more of a 50/50 girl myself. I'd had some complaints come in about my Zumba class that it wasn't "really Zumba" or that it was "too easy" or "too dance-y".
Sometime during the summer or fall, I got this great idea. I had been teaching Zumba now for a couple years and had used a fair amount of Christian music in my 70/30 or 50/50 models. How about if I took all my Christian music and put it in a playlist? I was making a silent bet with myself that I could probably have close to a full hour-long workout using the music I already had. At this point, I was only thinking this would be a fun thing for me to get my groove back and get my heart back in love with Zumba. So one night, I went through all my old Zumba playlists and put all the Christian songs in a playlist. It was like 40 minutes long. More than half-way to a full workout. Over the next couple weeks, as a joke to myself, I started tossing the idea around of what would happen if I started teaching a class like that.
What I didn't realize at the time, was that what I thought was just a quick idea being tossed around, was actually God starting to work something out in me.
By the end of the summer and heading into the beginning of the fall, I was trying to figure out what to do with my Zumba class. I knew my heart wasn't really in it that much. I wanted to re-brand what I already had into my own Christian version. But...I'd been hired to teach Zumba. I wasn't sure if I re-branded, if the same people would even come to my class. Were they there because of the name Zumba? Or were they there because they liked me? Where I REALLY wanted to see something happen was at church.
I don't remember exactly when this started happening...because it started out slow at first. But I started tossing around the idea last fall about starting a Christian dance fitness ministry at my church. In the 16+ years I'd been going to this church, I've never known them to be too fond of any form of dance in the church. I was almost positive that nothing like this would ever happen...but I continued to dream anyway (as away to combat depression and anxiety...I try to re-direct my thinking by dreaming some big dreams). I looked up more choreography, and found a company through YouTube. I'd actually used this company's choreography before during my Zumba class...but I hadn't noticed that they also offered instructor trainings...or that one of their trainings was coming to Columbus in March. As I did more research about this company, I discovered that they claimed to be a "faith-infused" alternative to Zumba or other cardio dance fitness classes. I was intrigued. I remember when I went to my Zumba training, it was all about how to teach Zumba, how to incorporate the Latin moves yet keep it fitness. But I was interested to consider going through their training to see what they could offer me.
In September or October, I remember randomly telling my sweet friend about this idea. She loved it and thought it was an amazing idea. "Great"...I thought to myself..."she didn't think it was a horrible idea". I had even started coming up with a name for the idea...Cardio Worship.That name just seemed to incorporate exactly what I was going for. A cardio workout class...that was both an expression of worship, as well as using Christian and worship music.
Still not 100% positive that this would ever happen, I wanted more feedback. So, I took to the biggest platform I could think of. I started recording myself doing routines (after doing a full hour of Zumba) and posting the videos on Facebook. The first video I posted with a lengthy disclaimer about how tired I was from Zumba, all the flaws I saw in the video, and a basic thought of the idea to start a ministry. The feedback was amazing. People loved it. People wondered why our church didn't have anything like this available.
And then something even crazier happened. A woman from my church messaged me on Facebook. She loved what she saw and had felt God compelling her to work with me to start this ministry. Not gonna lie...I wasn't completely on board. In my mind, this idea was still destined to fail miserably. It sounds great on paper and looks great on a Facebook video (my alternative to getting this ministry started at my church was going to be to find a way to gain Mandisa's attention and see about turning it into a DVD workout series). But actually having the church go through with it...seemed doubtful. Now I was beginning to get a small army of people that I'd be disappointing when it didn't work out...which I was pretty sure was going to happen.
I started enjoying working on this idea so much, and felt so compelled that Zumba was no longer in my future...at the end of October, I emailed my boss at the Y I taught Zumba at and said I wouldn't be teaching Zumba anymore come January. Why was January so important? Well...in the 16+ years we've been attending our church, we have watched this church grow from 400-500 people when we first got there...to the bustling church of nearly 2000 weekly attendees! We have also watched the church building itself physically expand at least 3 times. The newest expansion was a new student center...complete with a full gym, classrooms, bathrooms, and a built in sound system. When they broke ground on the new building, the timeline was placed that it would be complete in January. My grand plan was to end Zumba in December, and then switch gears to something more God-honoring in January.
In mid-November, I went to visit my sweet friend out of state. I don't remember how much I'd told her about Cardio Worship at this point. We enjoyed a trip to a chocolate festival together and then arranged to go to church together on Sunday. She lived about 3 hours away from where we met...I was more like 600 miles away...neither of us had been to the church before that we visited. After the church service, before we even got out of the building, my sweet friend turned to me and told me that she heard something in that sermon message that made her think of my dance fitness ministry. A few days later, after asking her through to text me what she heard...she sent me this quoted message via text:
"Don't get caught up in the mechanics of how you are serving, but rather embrace and feel the joy there is in serving God and worshiping Him."
At the time...I was confused. That quote seemed a little out of place. I mean...I was just working on an idea here!
Shortly either before or after my visit with my sweet friend, I decided to put this idea to rest once and for all. Using some comments and suggestions from the woman from my church who wanted to help out...I emailed the women's ministry director at my church and asked if such a ministry was even something that the church would ever even consider. At the beginning of December...I got my answer (the women's ministry director had to talk to one of the pastors on leadership at the church). "Not yet." It actually took a couple people pointing out to me that I had not been given an absolute answer of "NO". The answer I got was more of an indication that it just wasn't the right timing. You see...that January completion date for the new student center building? Thanks to Ohio's weather...they were a couple months off on their estimate. The building didn't get completed until March.
But...as God works in all ways...as I look back on this story, I think there was another personal reason for that answer of not yet.
In a previous post on this blog, I have posted an updated version of my personal Christian testimony. I had always struggled each month with my hormones, and at the beginning of my senior year of college, I went on birth control as a way to hopefully relieve some of those issues and find some balance of my emotions. Unfortunately, the birth control caused me to go into a great state of anxiety and depression, hitting an all-time horrific low in October of my senior year, when Satan began whispering thoughts into my mind that maybe my life wasn't worth living. In a not-so-fun-to-recall event in my life (I was reported to the dean of students at my college and sent home for 4 days)...I was forced to come to terms that the birth control wasn't working, and I was actually doing worse than when I had started. Although it had been 5 years since that time...I still struggled with my hormones.
A few weeks before my weekend trip to visit my sweet friend, I sent her a panicked text message on a Tuesday night. I had been hired at the end of the summer as a teacher at a school for the school year, but I had been offered the job as I was there for the interview. In one day, I went to an interview, got offered a full time teaching job, and put my 2 weeks notice in to my part-time retail position I'd been working. For the next 2 weeks, I worked 12-hour days between my retail job and doing orientation and beginning of the year prep stuff for a school year of teaching. By the time I got to the end of the first quarter of school, I felt like I was running a marathon and was falling dangerously behind. On top of it, my hormones were at an all-time high. I was finding it hard to get through the day...even while at work...without feeling like a crying break down would be in my future. On that Tuesday night, I sent her a text telling her I wasn't sure how or if I would manage to survive the rest of that week. I think she fell asleep during that text. But the next morning at 6 a.m. she started texting me.
You see, I never really solved the issue of my hormones. After birth control didn't work out...I just went back to doing nothing. And that wasn't doing much good for me either. Every month for the last 5 years, I went through crazy hormonal issues with no answers in sight. When the symptoms subsided, I would take a breath of fresh air...before remembering that the same thing would happen again in another month. As my sweet friend pointed out to me...I was only really living half of my life. The other half was spent dealing with anxiety attacks and depression that I couldn't seem to solve. After that conversation...after our weekend get away...and after I had a chance to talk to someone else from my church to look into some alternative options to get my hormones back in check, I went to see a nutritionist and began a regime of supplements in December...about a week before Christmas. The same day I went to the nutritionist for my first appointment, I had been looking to move out of my parents' house...and found and applied for an amazing apartment in the same town as my church.
Before finishing this tale...I did want to mention that normally I wouldn't have wanted to include that whole story of depression, hormones, and all of that stuff that happened. But I feel like there's a great message in there. You see, as Christians...and even as a population in general, sometimes we have to take care of ourselves first before we can help take care of others (think about what they say on airplanes before take off...when a drop in cabin pressure happens, you are to put on your oxygen mask first before helping those around you). Serving others is an outward display of what is going on in our hearts. When Christians serve, it's because they are sharing something that God has blessed them with, no matter if it's a skill, a resource, or just a simple smile. Before I could work to share my heart for ministry, dance, and fitness...I had to take care of some issues in me first. That "not yet" answer from the church? As much as it was an answer because of a physical problem (the building wasn't ready yet), I believe it was also an answer that God had to work on a few things in ME first. I remember hearing a statement that God doesn't call the equipped...He equips the called.
So...back to the story.
After settling in to my apartment, getting back into taking my supplements regularly, and now NOT teaching Zumba...I realized I was missing something. In February, I knew that I was spending a lot of time eating junk food and watching Netflix. The supplements had helped me lose 5 pounds in the first couple weeks. But I wasn't actively exercising. There weren't many fitness options at the YMCA that is literally around the corner from my apartment. It was too cold outside to play our beloved game of Fishball. I wanted to get back into some kind of fitness. So...I started looking at some of the plans I had started for Cardio Worship and the upcoming instructor training in Columbus in March. As a means to influence myself to fill out my taxes, I filed my tax return in February, praying that my return would be enough to finance the instructor training. It was. So in February, I re-posted one of my first videos about Cardio Worship on Facebook, excited to announce that I'd be going to that instructor training.
My sweet friend was back on board. The woman from church started messaging me again...wanting to get together with me to talk details about the dreams and ideas of this ministry. I still wasn't 100% convinced anything would come out of this. But...I HAD waited...and the building was mostly close to completion.
In March, the woman from church approached the church about starting Cardio Worship. We waited. And waited. And waited. And we prayed. And prayed. And prayed. I was on fire to get something like this started! Just to be on the safe side...I started getting a lot of choreography ideas together (I wanted to be able to hit the ground running IF we happened to get approved). I had started taking some dance classes at a dance studio not too far from my apartment. The owner of the studio had been a member of our church while she was in high school back when we first started coming to our church. I started talking to her and mentioned the need and desire to have a place to work out and do some personal choreography...and low and behold...she gave me the key to the back door of her studio! Whenever I got anxious waiting for an answer about Cardio Worship...I'd go to the studio and start running through choreography.
And finally...it happened. In April...I got a message from the woman from my church. We had been approved!!! This my friends, is completely and totally a God thing. As we were waiting for an answer, I had started getting a little less pessimistic about the likelihood of this ministry starting.
On May 20, 2016, we held a kick off class of Cardio Worship for about 30 attendees from the church!!! May 20, 2016 was a day I realized that 9-10 months of hopes, dreams, prayers, sweat, tears, and maybe even a little blood...finally ended in success! Months of choreography, emails, messages, and even dealing with several unexplained issues (I like to refer to those issues as a classic case of Spiritual Warfare in my life)...FINALLY had a purpose and a reason. 9-10 months of asking my close friends daily and weekly for prayer requests related to Cardio Worship had been answered.
I know that Cardio Worship is far from being "my" doing. It's not even really "my" ministry. It's God's. I just happen to be the lucky girl who gets to be the hands and feet (and abs, leg muscles, arm muscles, and every other muscle set for that matter) of God. From an early time in this endeavor...although I have called Cardio Worship "my ministry"...I am mistaken in my terminology. It's not mine. It's God's.
And as the Bible says...with God "All things are possible".
I believe 100% that God is far from over with blessing this ministry. I have no clue if we'll grow to multiple class times, days, locations...or if we'll just create a DVD workout series. But whatever happens...it won't be my doing alone. It will be me working...through the power of God through the Holy Spirit.
And before I end this post. That quote from the sermon my sweet friend texted me back in November? ("Don't get caught up in the mechanics of how you are serving, but rather
embrace and feel the joy there is in serving God and worshiping Him.") That quote...is pretty much 100% spot on!
Happy dancing, friends!
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Thursday, March 3, 2016
Dancing in the Rain
There's a saying that I love to quote...
"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...it's about learning to dance in the rain"
I love that quote! For a girl who has taken numerous years of dance classes..the dancer in me loves this quote. But there's another reason I love this quote.
Throughout this blog, and in my life in general...there is something that I've struggled with that I want to take some time and talk about right now. My struggle? Anxiety.
Go back to the beginning of this blog and look through my story. Anxiety has been laced through my life for many years. No matter if it is spawned by hormones, circumstances, or just plain worry...anxiety has become (sadly) a part of my life. The crazy thing is, in a weird way, I feel like I am in a unique position. You see, I've had so many friends who have battled with anxiety and depression. I have friends who continue to struggle with anxiety and depression. But where I'm unique...is that I've learned ways to make my anxiety less invasive in my life. Each time I battle through it, I come out a little bit stronger.
As I've mentioned before, during my senior year of college, I went on birth control medications that caused me to become very depressed. It was one of the worst experiences of my life. But...as I went through that time in my life, I got to see first hand how some other people in life deal with friends and loved ones who are dealing with anxiety. A few months after ending the birth control and returning to "normal" (or as close to that as possible), one of my good friends in college began saying and doing some very scary things. The things she was saying and doing sounded familiar...because I had just gone through those same thoughts a few months earlier. I knew what she was dealing with. I printed of 4 different lists of symptoms for "How to know if someone is depressed"...and highlighted the ones that she was portraying...which turned out to be most of the lists. I knew what she was going through. And then I started turning to other friends to help me help her. And that's where things ended. No one believed me. One person even told me that I'm not a psychologist and am unable to diagnose someone else's problems. I felt defeated. Here it is I felt like I had such a good possibility of helping this friend...and didn't feel like there was much of anything that I could do.
As I've continued to battle anxiety in my own life, I've started trying to pick up on some of my thoughts and actions as I go. My goal for the last several years, has been to find a way to educate the common public on anxiety. Where I felt defeated with my friend in college...doesn't mean that all hope is lost for everyone. That's my unique position.
Here's the thing, though. There's a lesson I have to teach my students as a teacher many times. The lesson that you are not able to change another person. So many times in many classrooms that I've been in, I have students complaining about another classmate. "But SHE did that" or "HE did this". It's a tough lesson to learn that there is very little you can do to change another person.
If you're battling anxiety, the changes start with YOU. I'm still working on my thoughts on how to educate others. Sadly, some people just don't get it. They think anxiety and depression is something that can be magically switched on and off. Or they think that somehow they'll be able to just say 3 magic words and everything will be better. Or they'll only want to DO something. Anxiety is a battle of the mind. I'm here to tell you...there's not much that someone can do for you on the outside. Hugs are nice for some people. But a hug isn't always going to cure the whirlwind of thoughts circling through your mind.
So...stop waiting for the storm to pass. Stop waiting for the next drug to come out to get on. Stop waiting to find the counselor that will help you. Just STOP.
And start dancing in the rain.
Do the tough stuff. Get up. Get going. Dance.
Using my favorite analogy...dance...here are a few of my suggestions. If you are currently battling anxiety...here are some of my suggestions. Because the healing is going to start with YOU.
1. Be Prepared.
The first form of "dance" I ever took was actually a baton twirling class. My passion for dance started at a small dance studio and a dream of being a high school majorette back when I was in grade school. I took baton for several years, and eventually learned how to simultaneously twirl 2 batons. Right before middle school began, it was decided that the baton class at our studio was going to end. We would be performing at one final recital before the program was going to come to an end. The routine we were doing required us to march onto the stage with 2 batons in hand, put one down, twirl for the first half of the routine with one baton, then pick up the 2nd baton and finish the routine twirling 2 batons. While practicing for this routine, my instructor constantly alerted us to what to do "if you drop a baton". Basically what it came down to...if the baton was in a place that was reachable, pick it up ASAP and keep going. But...if it was too far away, you'd have to finish the rest of the routine with only 1 baton. "Fake it until you make it" was the mantra. But...as every dancer should know...we were supposed to keep on smiling! Make it look like it was supposed to be part of the show! For several months we were told what to do. Through practices...I caught every toss. The day of the recital came. We marched out onto the stage, set the other baton down, got ready for the first toss, TOSS....and my baton ended up on the other end of the stage. The next 30 seconds felt like a decade as I tried to keep a smile on my face, remember what I was supposed to do, bent down, picked up the 2nd baton, and glanced over at my friend to see where we were in the routine. I was mad.
After the show, my instructor came up to me. And gleamed with how quickly and seamless I had acted...with a smile still in tact. We always did our recitals at a local high school's theatre. The theatre director was an older man that seemed to never be satisfied with how things were done in the theatre. My instructor told me that after my baton drop and recover...the theater director had commented "man...she's GOOD!" I was prepared. Sure...it wasn't the most exciting situation. But I was prepared.
Same goes with anxiety. Be prepared. Know what to do. Know where to go. Know who to talk to. Just be prepared.
2. Look at things from a positive angle.
Anxiety is full of negative thought. This is the hardest thing to do, but one of my best ways to deal with my anxiety...is to try to think of things in a positive way.
When I was in high school, I remember one situation that happened during my ballet class. The class was given a basic center combination. We were to do one pirouette as a preparation...and then do 8 consecutive fouette turns. (If you don't speak ballet...look it up on YouTube). The music started. We did the pirouette. The first fouette went decently, the second didn't look too hot, by the fourth fouette, half the girls weren't even spinning a complete revolution...and by the eighth and final fouette...no one was anywhere near together. My dance teacher stopped the music and said "Well...how do you think that went?". And I responded "Well...we did the first 2 well!"
In the midst of anxiety...we have to see the glass as half full. You WILL get out of it. Every little step helps. No...maybe you really aren't created to be Wonder Woman and can do everything all the time. Do the first 2 fouettes correctly. Then strive to add more. Satan wants us to look at the 6 we did wrong. But Jesus wants us to look at the 2 we did RIGHT.
3. Don't say the C word
My old tap teacher was a very wise woman. And she had a BIG rule that we were expected to follow. We were not allowed to say the "C" word. What was the C word? CAN'T. As she explained to all her young dancers...you CAN...as long as you keep trying and keep practicing. She even had a consequence. We had to do push ups every time we said the C word. Sometimes it seemed...she had more faith in our abilities than we did.
When it comes to anxiety and depression, the devil wants us to say that we can't do things. We can't talk to that person. We can't find a place to look. We can't go another day. We can't eat. We can't sleep. We can't.
But with God...you CAN. If you're battling anxiety and depression...keep reminding yourself that you CAN.
Satan uses anxiety as a way to rob us of our joy. He wants to rob us of our passion to be one with Jesus Christ. And the more he can make you doubt, the more he can make you miserable, the more he can make you worry...the more he will try to pull you away from God. He's always there. Until the day that Jesus returns...he's always going to be there. The storm isn't going to end. You need to learn to dance in the rain. While it's going on. Don't just dance in the puddles. Dance during the storm.
There are so many other lessons that I could take from dance and from the stage to apply to this. But it all goes back to the same point.
Dance.
Be prepared
Be positive
And don't you dare say that you can't.
Just keep going. As another one of my favorite quotes says "practice makes perfect". The more you practice these techniques and others...the more easy they will come each time you hit a time of anxiety.
"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...it's about learning to dance in the rain"
I love that quote! For a girl who has taken numerous years of dance classes..the dancer in me loves this quote. But there's another reason I love this quote.
Throughout this blog, and in my life in general...there is something that I've struggled with that I want to take some time and talk about right now. My struggle? Anxiety.
Go back to the beginning of this blog and look through my story. Anxiety has been laced through my life for many years. No matter if it is spawned by hormones, circumstances, or just plain worry...anxiety has become (sadly) a part of my life. The crazy thing is, in a weird way, I feel like I am in a unique position. You see, I've had so many friends who have battled with anxiety and depression. I have friends who continue to struggle with anxiety and depression. But where I'm unique...is that I've learned ways to make my anxiety less invasive in my life. Each time I battle through it, I come out a little bit stronger.
As I've mentioned before, during my senior year of college, I went on birth control medications that caused me to become very depressed. It was one of the worst experiences of my life. But...as I went through that time in my life, I got to see first hand how some other people in life deal with friends and loved ones who are dealing with anxiety. A few months after ending the birth control and returning to "normal" (or as close to that as possible), one of my good friends in college began saying and doing some very scary things. The things she was saying and doing sounded familiar...because I had just gone through those same thoughts a few months earlier. I knew what she was dealing with. I printed of 4 different lists of symptoms for "How to know if someone is depressed"...and highlighted the ones that she was portraying...which turned out to be most of the lists. I knew what she was going through. And then I started turning to other friends to help me help her. And that's where things ended. No one believed me. One person even told me that I'm not a psychologist and am unable to diagnose someone else's problems. I felt defeated. Here it is I felt like I had such a good possibility of helping this friend...and didn't feel like there was much of anything that I could do.
As I've continued to battle anxiety in my own life, I've started trying to pick up on some of my thoughts and actions as I go. My goal for the last several years, has been to find a way to educate the common public on anxiety. Where I felt defeated with my friend in college...doesn't mean that all hope is lost for everyone. That's my unique position.
Here's the thing, though. There's a lesson I have to teach my students as a teacher many times. The lesson that you are not able to change another person. So many times in many classrooms that I've been in, I have students complaining about another classmate. "But SHE did that" or "HE did this". It's a tough lesson to learn that there is very little you can do to change another person.
If you're battling anxiety, the changes start with YOU. I'm still working on my thoughts on how to educate others. Sadly, some people just don't get it. They think anxiety and depression is something that can be magically switched on and off. Or they think that somehow they'll be able to just say 3 magic words and everything will be better. Or they'll only want to DO something. Anxiety is a battle of the mind. I'm here to tell you...there's not much that someone can do for you on the outside. Hugs are nice for some people. But a hug isn't always going to cure the whirlwind of thoughts circling through your mind.
So...stop waiting for the storm to pass. Stop waiting for the next drug to come out to get on. Stop waiting to find the counselor that will help you. Just STOP.
And start dancing in the rain.
Do the tough stuff. Get up. Get going. Dance.
Using my favorite analogy...dance...here are a few of my suggestions. If you are currently battling anxiety...here are some of my suggestions. Because the healing is going to start with YOU.
1. Be Prepared.
The first form of "dance" I ever took was actually a baton twirling class. My passion for dance started at a small dance studio and a dream of being a high school majorette back when I was in grade school. I took baton for several years, and eventually learned how to simultaneously twirl 2 batons. Right before middle school began, it was decided that the baton class at our studio was going to end. We would be performing at one final recital before the program was going to come to an end. The routine we were doing required us to march onto the stage with 2 batons in hand, put one down, twirl for the first half of the routine with one baton, then pick up the 2nd baton and finish the routine twirling 2 batons. While practicing for this routine, my instructor constantly alerted us to what to do "if you drop a baton". Basically what it came down to...if the baton was in a place that was reachable, pick it up ASAP and keep going. But...if it was too far away, you'd have to finish the rest of the routine with only 1 baton. "Fake it until you make it" was the mantra. But...as every dancer should know...we were supposed to keep on smiling! Make it look like it was supposed to be part of the show! For several months we were told what to do. Through practices...I caught every toss. The day of the recital came. We marched out onto the stage, set the other baton down, got ready for the first toss, TOSS....and my baton ended up on the other end of the stage. The next 30 seconds felt like a decade as I tried to keep a smile on my face, remember what I was supposed to do, bent down, picked up the 2nd baton, and glanced over at my friend to see where we were in the routine. I was mad.
After the show, my instructor came up to me. And gleamed with how quickly and seamless I had acted...with a smile still in tact. We always did our recitals at a local high school's theatre. The theatre director was an older man that seemed to never be satisfied with how things were done in the theatre. My instructor told me that after my baton drop and recover...the theater director had commented "man...she's GOOD!" I was prepared. Sure...it wasn't the most exciting situation. But I was prepared.
Same goes with anxiety. Be prepared. Know what to do. Know where to go. Know who to talk to. Just be prepared.
2. Look at things from a positive angle.
Anxiety is full of negative thought. This is the hardest thing to do, but one of my best ways to deal with my anxiety...is to try to think of things in a positive way.
When I was in high school, I remember one situation that happened during my ballet class. The class was given a basic center combination. We were to do one pirouette as a preparation...and then do 8 consecutive fouette turns. (If you don't speak ballet...look it up on YouTube). The music started. We did the pirouette. The first fouette went decently, the second didn't look too hot, by the fourth fouette, half the girls weren't even spinning a complete revolution...and by the eighth and final fouette...no one was anywhere near together. My dance teacher stopped the music and said "Well...how do you think that went?". And I responded "Well...we did the first 2 well!"
In the midst of anxiety...we have to see the glass as half full. You WILL get out of it. Every little step helps. No...maybe you really aren't created to be Wonder Woman and can do everything all the time. Do the first 2 fouettes correctly. Then strive to add more. Satan wants us to look at the 6 we did wrong. But Jesus wants us to look at the 2 we did RIGHT.
3. Don't say the C word
My old tap teacher was a very wise woman. And she had a BIG rule that we were expected to follow. We were not allowed to say the "C" word. What was the C word? CAN'T. As she explained to all her young dancers...you CAN...as long as you keep trying and keep practicing. She even had a consequence. We had to do push ups every time we said the C word. Sometimes it seemed...she had more faith in our abilities than we did.
When it comes to anxiety and depression, the devil wants us to say that we can't do things. We can't talk to that person. We can't find a place to look. We can't go another day. We can't eat. We can't sleep. We can't.
But with God...you CAN. If you're battling anxiety and depression...keep reminding yourself that you CAN.
Satan uses anxiety as a way to rob us of our joy. He wants to rob us of our passion to be one with Jesus Christ. And the more he can make you doubt, the more he can make you miserable, the more he can make you worry...the more he will try to pull you away from God. He's always there. Until the day that Jesus returns...he's always going to be there. The storm isn't going to end. You need to learn to dance in the rain. While it's going on. Don't just dance in the puddles. Dance during the storm.
There are so many other lessons that I could take from dance and from the stage to apply to this. But it all goes back to the same point.
Dance.
Be prepared
Be positive
And don't you dare say that you can't.
Just keep going. As another one of my favorite quotes says "practice makes perfect". The more you practice these techniques and others...the more easy they will come each time you hit a time of anxiety.
Monday, January 4, 2016
An Open Letter to my Former Best Friends
Well Happy New Year to everyone!
In my last post, I talked a lot about a sweet friend that danced her way into my life, but left quite the impact on my heart. I'm happy to report, that, like so many people in college used to say "Good byes are not forever"...and "It's see ya later...not good bye". I'm pretty sure I could create a completely separate blog about my conversations, plans, and endeavors with my sweet friend. But...alas, that is not really the point of this blog.
Regardless, I don't think "good bye" was really in our vocabulary after she moved to her next mission. Before she even left, I had found out about a chocolate festival that was coming to a town that was about 3 hours away from her (easily driven for a weekend)...and was also near my relatives. Six weeks after she left...we were reunited for a quick weekend getaway. Although the festival wasn't as great as we had hoped for, the company was well worth the flights and headaches.
And...better yet, her next mission is back in Ohio! We've been doing pretty well at seeing each other every 6 weeks or so. Having her back in Ohio, though, should open up a few more additional opportunities to spend time together. Like I said in the last post...it's the moments spent together that matter the most, not the time. I cherish each of the moments I spend with her in my heart for several weeks after I see her. But I know that in God's time...another reunion will eventually take place.
Relationships has become a theme for me recently. Part of my personal testimony and story is based on the struggles I've had at various points in life regarding friendships and relationships. The even sweeter part is to see how God uses those pains and struggles to teach me new things and introduce me to new people all the time. Our zombie party group still has a handful of people that get together each Sunday night...although we currently are a zombie-less zombie party (thank you, AMC, for putting our favorite zombies on break for the next few weeks/months). But, as Matthew 18:20 says, "where 2 or 3 gather in my name, there I am with them". Believe it or not, this weekly zombie-less zombie party has become one of the biggest blessings of my life. It's a community. It's friends. It's the people that I turn to first when I want to go out to a movie and not go by myself...and some of the people I turn to first when life starts getting just a little too hectic. I've been increasingly amazed about how God has completely changed my friendships and relationships in the past few months. And to think...it started with a strange addiction to zombies that has now well-surpassed being a Halloween seasonal option.
As I look back on past relationships, I can tell one quick thing about myself. I've always been a "quality over quantity" kind of person in friendship. Another words...I'd prefer to have 1 or 2 extremely close friends instead of multiple not-as-close friends. I've also learned more recently about myself on how hard it is for me to trust people. Sure, I may claim to trust you to your face. But it takes something special for me to trust you with ALL of my deepest secrets. I've spent some time looking back on some of my past friendships...and they seem to follow a sort of pattern. We become friends. Since I prefer the quality over the quantity...I tell them SO many things about myself. Fears. Failures. Hopes. Dreams. And if they're really lucky...who the current guy is I have a crush on. Things go great. Texting and calling dates happen. And then life takes over. I call to find a time to do something...and they aren't available. I'm in the midst of a minor emotional breakdown...and they're not available to talk. Life happens...and they aren't there. Because again...I wanted the quality of only having one close friend...and not the quantity of many friends. And eventually, paths start to part, jobs change, someone gets married, or an epic fight eventually ends the friendship. They walk away...with probably some regret, some grief, and a small portion of my heart and my trust with them. I have always loved the Irish Claddaugh as a symbol of love...both between a man and a woman...and between friends. And the way I look at the Claddaugh, is that it is 2 hands holding a heart. The only way to make a relationship to work (friendship or romantic) is for both sides to be equally holding that same heart. The Claddaugh of friendship I was wearing was more like one hand holding a heart...with several bumps and chips in the other side...from other hands that had been there for a time and then gone away.
This zombie-less zombie crew is one of the greatest things. For the first time in my life...I'm getting a quality...AND a quantity of friends that I've never experienced before. I like how one of the guys said it to me at one point during a low point in life..."you know you have us...and we're not going anywhere!" Every weekend...I'm reminded of that. Every Sunday night, we share the moments...and some pretty decent amounts of time...with each other.
With all this lovey-dovey "I Love my Friends" stuff...some may be wondering what the title of this post is all about. Over the last several weeks, I have seen many people on Facebook sharing these "open letters". It seems like they come from a blog...they tend to be to a variety of people. A few days ago, I read one of these "open letters" that was "An Open Letter to my Former Best Friend" (there's actually more than one by that title). One of the variations of this letter really struck a chord with me. But...there were too many details that obviously did NOT pertain to me and I didn't find it necessary to "share" the one online. Instead...I decided to write my own. With a more personal approach to it. So...here is my "open letter" to anyone who used to be a Best Friend of mine.
Hey Stranger!
I kinda miss you. I miss giving you updates about every little detail of my life. And in a way, I almost miss people asking me where you are or what you're up to because apparently we were a packaged deal at one point. I miss our inside jokes. The ones only you and I would ever actually get - far beyond simply "you had to be there to understand it".
But here's the weird thing. In all the ways that I miss you...at the same time, I don't miss you at all. I don't miss feeling like I had to be something I wasn't just to gain acceptance by you. Sure, it was all personal choice to change my hair, change my clothes, change my purse, and change my make-up preferences. I told myself I was doing it because I was in need of a "fresh new look". But really...I just wanted you to notice me. I wanted to feel like I fit in. I don't miss all the days I'd wait for a response to a text or an email - and sometimes never getting one back. Your texts and calls and emails were many times the highlight of my days! Sure...maybe you thought I was being clingy and constantly needed to be reminded that we were still friends. But...I'm surprised how long we called ourselves "friends" while I was having a monologue text message with your phone. Relationships needed communication. And ours was barely existent. And I don't miss the feelings of abandonment because I had chosen you to be one of my "one and only's". You must not have understood it. Those things I told you? Were important to me. I don't trust people very easily on a deep level. But I trusted you. I trusted you enough to tell you some of my dirty secrets, my hopes and dreams, and my personal struggles. So...when you walked away...you took some of my trust and my courage along with you.
But I've moved on. It wasn't easy. Oh, Lord, it wasn't easy. There were plenty of days where I wondered if I would ever be able to call someone a friend again. There were plenty of days when I wondered if there was an online friend-finder service (like match.com for friends?). And there were plenty of days...where I felt the ultimate realization that I had exactly ONE friend at that moment: God. And do you know what God did? He brought me new friends. Friends that ONLY God could have been responsible for bringing into my life. Friends that all I have to worry about is being myself. No one else. Friends that when I text or call them, they actually text back. And quickly. Friends that don't dismiss 6 a.m. conversations. They know my schedule. And they know sometimes that's the best time for me to talk. Friends who take the time to listen and not claim to be busy and just try to push me off to someone else.Friends who continually point me towards God and His never-ending love. These new friends...aren't just friends. They're family. Because we all share one Father. They're better than best friends.
Come to think of it, that is the main difference between you and them. You got overwhelmed because you felt like you had to be the one to solve my issues. But they already know the one who made me...issues and all. And just like how you take a broken piece of merchandise back to the store, they take my broken spirits, my failures, my anxieties, and my fears back to the One who made me. You gave me a few sweet words and a couple of really good quotes for me to use. But they give me THE word of God when I needed it most. Better soothing than honey.
My biggest hope for you in your future is that you eventually get to know my Father and creator. I still pray for you, even if I don't tell you that. There's not a chance in the world that you don't at least a few times cross my mind. You were very important to my life at one point. Who knows if we'll ever rekindle some form of a relationship. But maybe that's what that friendship was for. It wasn't to stay friends forever. It was just long enough that I could plant a seed of my Father's love into your heart. You may not have been able to handle me...but He definitely can!
Thanks for the times. Thanks for the moments. Thanks for the memories. I know that God will use what I learned from you sometime in the future to help me. But for nwo, I'mhappy that he's brought me closer into HIS family.
Take Care!
Your Old BFF
In my last post, I talked a lot about a sweet friend that danced her way into my life, but left quite the impact on my heart. I'm happy to report, that, like so many people in college used to say "Good byes are not forever"...and "It's see ya later...not good bye". I'm pretty sure I could create a completely separate blog about my conversations, plans, and endeavors with my sweet friend. But...alas, that is not really the point of this blog.
Regardless, I don't think "good bye" was really in our vocabulary after she moved to her next mission. Before she even left, I had found out about a chocolate festival that was coming to a town that was about 3 hours away from her (easily driven for a weekend)...and was also near my relatives. Six weeks after she left...we were reunited for a quick weekend getaway. Although the festival wasn't as great as we had hoped for, the company was well worth the flights and headaches.
And...better yet, her next mission is back in Ohio! We've been doing pretty well at seeing each other every 6 weeks or so. Having her back in Ohio, though, should open up a few more additional opportunities to spend time together. Like I said in the last post...it's the moments spent together that matter the most, not the time. I cherish each of the moments I spend with her in my heart for several weeks after I see her. But I know that in God's time...another reunion will eventually take place.
Relationships has become a theme for me recently. Part of my personal testimony and story is based on the struggles I've had at various points in life regarding friendships and relationships. The even sweeter part is to see how God uses those pains and struggles to teach me new things and introduce me to new people all the time. Our zombie party group still has a handful of people that get together each Sunday night...although we currently are a zombie-less zombie party (thank you, AMC, for putting our favorite zombies on break for the next few weeks/months). But, as Matthew 18:20 says, "where 2 or 3 gather in my name, there I am with them". Believe it or not, this weekly zombie-less zombie party has become one of the biggest blessings of my life. It's a community. It's friends. It's the people that I turn to first when I want to go out to a movie and not go by myself...and some of the people I turn to first when life starts getting just a little too hectic. I've been increasingly amazed about how God has completely changed my friendships and relationships in the past few months. And to think...it started with a strange addiction to zombies that has now well-surpassed being a Halloween seasonal option.
As I look back on past relationships, I can tell one quick thing about myself. I've always been a "quality over quantity" kind of person in friendship. Another words...I'd prefer to have 1 or 2 extremely close friends instead of multiple not-as-close friends. I've also learned more recently about myself on how hard it is for me to trust people. Sure, I may claim to trust you to your face. But it takes something special for me to trust you with ALL of my deepest secrets. I've spent some time looking back on some of my past friendships...and they seem to follow a sort of pattern. We become friends. Since I prefer the quality over the quantity...I tell them SO many things about myself. Fears. Failures. Hopes. Dreams. And if they're really lucky...who the current guy is I have a crush on. Things go great. Texting and calling dates happen. And then life takes over. I call to find a time to do something...and they aren't available. I'm in the midst of a minor emotional breakdown...and they're not available to talk. Life happens...and they aren't there. Because again...I wanted the quality of only having one close friend...and not the quantity of many friends. And eventually, paths start to part, jobs change, someone gets married, or an epic fight eventually ends the friendship. They walk away...with probably some regret, some grief, and a small portion of my heart and my trust with them. I have always loved the Irish Claddaugh as a symbol of love...both between a man and a woman...and between friends. And the way I look at the Claddaugh, is that it is 2 hands holding a heart. The only way to make a relationship to work (friendship or romantic) is for both sides to be equally holding that same heart. The Claddaugh of friendship I was wearing was more like one hand holding a heart...with several bumps and chips in the other side...from other hands that had been there for a time and then gone away.
This zombie-less zombie crew is one of the greatest things. For the first time in my life...I'm getting a quality...AND a quantity of friends that I've never experienced before. I like how one of the guys said it to me at one point during a low point in life..."you know you have us...and we're not going anywhere!" Every weekend...I'm reminded of that. Every Sunday night, we share the moments...and some pretty decent amounts of time...with each other.
With all this lovey-dovey "I Love my Friends" stuff...some may be wondering what the title of this post is all about. Over the last several weeks, I have seen many people on Facebook sharing these "open letters". It seems like they come from a blog...they tend to be to a variety of people. A few days ago, I read one of these "open letters" that was "An Open Letter to my Former Best Friend" (there's actually more than one by that title). One of the variations of this letter really struck a chord with me. But...there were too many details that obviously did NOT pertain to me and I didn't find it necessary to "share" the one online. Instead...I decided to write my own. With a more personal approach to it. So...here is my "open letter" to anyone who used to be a Best Friend of mine.
Hey Stranger!
I kinda miss you. I miss giving you updates about every little detail of my life. And in a way, I almost miss people asking me where you are or what you're up to because apparently we were a packaged deal at one point. I miss our inside jokes. The ones only you and I would ever actually get - far beyond simply "you had to be there to understand it".
But here's the weird thing. In all the ways that I miss you...at the same time, I don't miss you at all. I don't miss feeling like I had to be something I wasn't just to gain acceptance by you. Sure, it was all personal choice to change my hair, change my clothes, change my purse, and change my make-up preferences. I told myself I was doing it because I was in need of a "fresh new look". But really...I just wanted you to notice me. I wanted to feel like I fit in. I don't miss all the days I'd wait for a response to a text or an email - and sometimes never getting one back. Your texts and calls and emails were many times the highlight of my days! Sure...maybe you thought I was being clingy and constantly needed to be reminded that we were still friends. But...I'm surprised how long we called ourselves "friends" while I was having a monologue text message with your phone. Relationships needed communication. And ours was barely existent. And I don't miss the feelings of abandonment because I had chosen you to be one of my "one and only's". You must not have understood it. Those things I told you? Were important to me. I don't trust people very easily on a deep level. But I trusted you. I trusted you enough to tell you some of my dirty secrets, my hopes and dreams, and my personal struggles. So...when you walked away...you took some of my trust and my courage along with you.
But I've moved on. It wasn't easy. Oh, Lord, it wasn't easy. There were plenty of days where I wondered if I would ever be able to call someone a friend again. There were plenty of days when I wondered if there was an online friend-finder service (like match.com for friends?). And there were plenty of days...where I felt the ultimate realization that I had exactly ONE friend at that moment: God. And do you know what God did? He brought me new friends. Friends that ONLY God could have been responsible for bringing into my life. Friends that all I have to worry about is being myself. No one else. Friends that when I text or call them, they actually text back. And quickly. Friends that don't dismiss 6 a.m. conversations. They know my schedule. And they know sometimes that's the best time for me to talk. Friends who take the time to listen and not claim to be busy and just try to push me off to someone else.Friends who continually point me towards God and His never-ending love. These new friends...aren't just friends. They're family. Because we all share one Father. They're better than best friends.
Come to think of it, that is the main difference between you and them. You got overwhelmed because you felt like you had to be the one to solve my issues. But they already know the one who made me...issues and all. And just like how you take a broken piece of merchandise back to the store, they take my broken spirits, my failures, my anxieties, and my fears back to the One who made me. You gave me a few sweet words and a couple of really good quotes for me to use. But they give me THE word of God when I needed it most. Better soothing than honey.
My biggest hope for you in your future is that you eventually get to know my Father and creator. I still pray for you, even if I don't tell you that. There's not a chance in the world that you don't at least a few times cross my mind. You were very important to my life at one point. Who knows if we'll ever rekindle some form of a relationship. But maybe that's what that friendship was for. It wasn't to stay friends forever. It was just long enough that I could plant a seed of my Father's love into your heart. You may not have been able to handle me...but He definitely can!
Thanks for the times. Thanks for the moments. Thanks for the memories. I know that God will use what I learned from you sometime in the future to help me. But for nwo, I'mhappy that he's brought me closer into HIS family.
Take Care!
Your Old BFF
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