happy feet

Finally found my walking shoes. These will have to keep my feet happy.

the build up

About 5 weeks ago, I spoke candidly to a fitness trainer friend of mine about issues I was having with my body. I had worried over whether my back was gonna be able to take the long-haul flight and all the walking I'm going to be doing this summer, and toyed with the idea of working out just to strengthen me up a little. But I would always kind of put it down whenever the thought wafted in, mainly because I had been disappointed over most of last year having gone to the chiropractor and seeing no further improvement. I didn't think recovery would be fast.

Due to compounded injuries over the years of dancing, my spine had lost all of the natural curves needed to keep the spine strong. This doesn't sound like much of a problem until I try to do simple things like lie down, lift a weight anything above shoulder height, carry a chubby schnauzer, lift my head off the pillow, walk too much, sling a bag over my shoulder... and not to mention dance. Every pain is exaggerated and has an after effect in which the pain spreads and affects another area if I don't go fix the original problem.

I felt like a walking twig ready to snap the next time I sneezed!

So the goal is to put the curves back in my spine, and everything else will have a chance of righting itself. And there are a few ways of doing this. One of which is chiropractic manipulations, which I now know doesn't work. Another way is to strengthen the muscles such that it holds the spine in the correct shape. I asked my friend if it was reasonable to expect anything out of six weeks of training, and he said he would be glad to help.

So I've been hitting the gym for functional training every Saturday for 5 weeks now. I also train with Pat outside of the Saturday sessions, attacking all the little used but essential muscles. I did not know that there were so many muscles in and around the shoulders!! I also do Pilates once a week with a friend who happened to be earning her hours, so I get to do it for free. and I see an osteopath for extra help.

Here's what's gone down since. :)

Do you see it?? I have a curve in my lower back!! 

Okay I know it doesn't look like a lot, but it says a lot. Pity I didn't have a before picture, but my back pretty much ran ramrod straight down into my butt. Here, you can see my upper back curving away from the lower back. And this is from only 5 weeks of work! 

So ever the ambitious me, I decided that I wanted to be fit enough to dance too since I've finally got A CURVE. I am after all going to be passing through the dance capital of the world. I wanted to be ready, just in case I also got to dance at Bethel. So last weekend, I went swimming on a Friday night. I didn't want to strain my muscles before hitting the gym on Saturday morning but it would be good to get the heart rate going.

I did the crawl through the olympic size pool, going lengthwise. I was halfway through my first lap when I felt like I couldn't finish that one miserable lap. The lactic acid was building up so much and I couldn't seem to stop my heart rate from going crazy. I couldn't regulate my breathing and I was beginning to physically stress out. I had to float in the middle of the pool for a bit before completing the rest of the lap. Finally, my fingers touch the wall on the other side, my lungs deflated. I considered this shameful defeat because I really thought that I could do this. I didn't get into the pool to do one lousy lap! So I made myself do another. 

And it was just as bad.

I lingered at the shallow end talking to myself. "I've got to keep going. 2 laps is pathetic! I've got to work on this. I've got to build myself up."

Then I caught myself. I shall NOT WORK on this. I shall rest on this. And I went for another lap. And it went swimmingly, pun greatly intended. :) I do believe that God's principles of rest are divine and have supernatural power. But I also believe that God created the human body to perform and cope in remarkable ways. As soon as my brain understood that I am not building anything on my own accord, my body relaxed and gave in to that innate ability. The lactic acid did threaten to build up. But as I pulled onward, it passed. I knew my body circulation has finally broken through. 

I went for another 4 laps, and that totaled six. My arms and shoulders hadn't gotten quite strong enough to do more, but I achieved my goal of breaking through, increasing heart rate and getting the circulation going.

I was butt-kicked at Saturday morning's functional training session. Loved it! I had a good lunch, bought a pair of too-pink soft split-soled ballet shoes for under 10 dollars, and made my way to Singapore Dance Theatre's adults' open class. I had signed up for an 8 lesson package thinking to do as much classes as I could before flying out.

Piano music floating down the stairwell. Haunting familiarity.

I couldn't finish the class because by the time we got to jumps, my legs had started to hurt. I couldn't jump off my right leg and couldn't land on my left ankle. I definitely still had some work to do. But the class felt good. I feel like I am gaining back strength and control and I am much encouraged. 

But I recall something I had come to terms to some years ago, about why I was never delivered into a life of ballet. It's cos it actually bores me. Daddy God must've known. I had started to regret buying the 8 class package because I was already bored halfway through barre work! And I started to crave real dancing. The kind that doesn't care if you had a perfect arabesque or not. The kind that speaks volumes. 

Well, my body isn't ready for that kind of movement, so I know the journey's ahead and ballet will help me along it.

4 days later and I was regretting that 8 class package even more! My body was in so much pain from the swimming, the gymming and the dancing I had to forgo Tuesday night ballet class I had originally intended to squeeze in. But it was a good pain. I knew I was working my body right this time and I'm only getting stronger.

So I have only 1 more dance class before I fly out.

the aftermath

So I've been taking a while to snap out of this. But my dad hasn't been talking to me at dinners. We talk when we have to, like at work. But this saddens me because we had just been learning how to chat prior to this. It was nice to see my dad opening up and talking about all things with such positivity. I don't think I could have had a greater blessing than for God to restore our hearts and reconcile us.

But so this is the situation. I don't know what he's thinking. Or if I do, he doesn't seem to want me to get involved. And it has been hard going to work every day because I feel there's a deliberate shut out. Not necessarily against me, but against his own emotions. As if he's willing himself to keep going on now that he knows I'm no longer on board. I absolutely did not wish to see my white-haired father mustering up his energy again to journey on on his own.

There's this fatigue blanketing us. The more work decisions he makes now, the more I can't understand where he's going with it. I don't know how to proceed. Purposefulness - my fuel for the past months to work in a job I knew I was leaving behind, doesn't seem fuel enough now.

What can I do, but to continue to trust Him and wait on Him. My dad has a story that God wrote especially for him too. And it's a good story.

tumbled

I feel like I’m in a damp daze... Not quite what I expected and not knowing how to proceed.

I expected that it would’ve gone one of two ways. Either I was to be liberated - my announcement to the family officiating my new direction, punctuated with approval, applause, smiles and nods of the head. And I would be all goggles on, rev up the engine and I’m all set and ready to go on my great adventure.

Or major guilt like a tonne of bricks weighing down on my existence as daughter. And I’ll have to run away as fast as I can so that I wouldn't look back and get drawn back into a life of mind splitting obligation.

It started off well enough. I started talking and didn't stop talking for awhile. And I saw that my dad was growing to like where I was going with it. He was even willing to support my schooling! Mom too. She was only concern with "the amount of time I'd be spending being around mentally unsound people." -_-

Then the barrage of questions - I knew this would come. It's why I took so long to tell my family that I was leaving the family business. I wanted to be so sure of myself that I wouldn't mind if my family didn't understand. Their opinion had always meant so much to me. But this time I knew that if I didn't hear my own voice and believed on it, I would never get anywhere with myself.

I tried my best to answer their questions, but I knew they didn't yet understand what dance movement therapy was all about. Their doubts concluded the dinner conversation. I was ready for that... or so I thought. I was advised to make my decision only after the twenty days.

But didn't they understand that I already had? Wouldn't they trust it?

For some reason, I felt like someone had closed the lid over my well, and this little frog is not ever gonna get out.

... I had the worse night of self-loathing. I started to recall every hatred I had against my dance, against my poor academia, against my garbled representation of who I am and what I want in life... that I'd never ever be good enough for dreams.

Thank God for stars. They bore down on me that night just to remind me I was still loved by my Father God.

It's been a few days since the conversation. Mostly I've been trying to collect myself because a lot of self-doubt had started clawing its way in. Did I hear God right? Am I on my own agenda? I hadn't fallen prey to such thoughts in a while.

Dad and I hadn't talked since the conversation either. He seems to be really busy. He doesn't seem to expect anything from me now. I had wanted to talk about the plans for the company with whatever remaining time I had left. But we hadn't. And it troubles me, because I don't know what's going on in his head.

He's just got to know that I wasn't abandoning him. That's all I want him to know. 

saved by credit limit

And the number one reason why I got bumped is just so I can get lodging at another location for half the price!

I think Daddy God knew that money was my biggest concern. Even bigger than safety. Because I was just about ready to put my money (same price as lost accommodation) on a motel 3 minutes away from the school that had a less than stellar reputation. Read: CSI crime scene with shady extras on the side.

When I first found said "CSI crime scene" quite by chance, I was ecstatic! It was cheaper by $3 and at a way closer location. I thought this was the blessing that God was sending my way after being dumped so suddenly. This was before I'd read the travelers' reviews on cracked front window and dried blood stains. Once I did, I had to pull on the brakes and hang on to the promises that Daddy God was still looking out for me.

"Don't be fooled now, child." :)

So I'll be staying with a lady and her teenaged daughter in her lovely house with another university student and some companion animals! It's a straight 20 minute walk through town so it's not too quiet. There's even a park with a lake one block away in the opposite direction. What's more, I was originally going to have to order a taxi to take me from the bus station to my temporary residence since there was hardly any public transportation in that town. But the lady had offered to pick me up from the bus station when I arrived.

I am so blessed.