It’s been awhile since I wrote; I didn’t mean to disappear but life has a way sometimes of sitting on one like a pile of rocks…or very big, heavy clunky boots, treading me down into the earth.

The past month has been like that. Life happens, and I was snowed under with some personal despair, and an infected tooth that still needs attention. Yikes. Contemplating two losses got to me.

I don’t usually think about sharing the down days, but I learned something important.

If you push me down into the earth, even if it’s very hard…something happens.

First, it hurts.

Then I do what caterpillars do; hide under a leaf, wait, and harden up my shell a bit.

Shells aren’t bad. That chrysalis is protective. It provides shelter and a safe place to melt down. Similarly in Alexander Technique lessons, I tell all my students: First we melt; then we move. Don’t pull on a body part that’s tight, you’ll only have two pullings. Doing the pushme-pullyu dance is destructive.

No matter if a pile of soft earth, or even a bunch of rocks are on top of that chrysalis,

One day, spring comes.

And when I started to peek out from under the rocks, something was different.

I didn’t feel the same anymore.

I was done plodding slowly and being polite. Yesterday there was a big event called Moving Day, run by the National Parkinson’s Foundation. I went right up to people to talk with them. Something switched in me: I know that Alexander Technique can help people with PD and if so, how dare I not offer it? It’s not about me; it’s about them.

And then the weight of rocks and heavy boots lifted.

It’s not about me, it’s about needing to be underground in order to transform. It’s about needing to melt in order to move freely.

It was sunny and smiles started shining everywhere. Music was playing; it was nice, upbeat rock and I started to dance without thinking. I only noticed after; no pain.

No matter that I’d holed up feeling poorly; now I am flying – because what begins as a chrysalis comes out as a butterfly.

I learned two lessons:

Squash me down and I will break, cry; I morph: then I fly.

And more – Butterflies fly because they take themselves lightly.

We are all the same. We all fall down sometimes, and sometimes life sends burdens and heavy boots to trod the earth down upon us.

If you ever feel like you’re in the caterpillar stage give me a call.

I promise I will see the being of light inside that knows how to fly. Maybe you need time and space to shelter in. That’s okay.  I see you.

Dana

P.S. If this resonates with you, join my dance diary and have a gift from me – a free, 8 minute guided audio to melt tension out of your back and shoulders. Let the transformation begin 🙂