My 40th came and went with me spending it mostly in bed, my greatest gifts being the boxes of Kleenex that both soothed and stung my stuffy nose. (Just [half] kidding, I was spoiled far beyond what any individual deserves). Nevertheless, I felt so much love from my family and friends around the world.
Making this milestone was particularly special because I faced my mortality close to a decade ago and didn’t know if I’d make 32 let alone 40. It is surreal to look back and imagine myself in a coma, intubated, and weighed down by 50 pounds of oedema. There are photos (obviously taken without my knowledge or consent) that make that bad dream a reality, yet it still doesn’t seem so. I’ve opted to keep those photos to myself and instead included photos, not of things I’ve done, but of places I’ve been. They are somewhat random, out of order, and mostly unrelated to the thought talk throughout which they are peppered, but it really just boils down to a photographic reminder of how very fortunate I have been over the last 40. I maintain that my musings are mostly for me, but appreciate you joining me on this journey.
Oh, the places you’ll go, she said…Or was that Dr. Seuss?
Memories of my medical trauma become ever-hazy with each passing day, but recollections of the utter exhaustion that resulted from hours of dialysis and fluid removal (with failed kidneys, that 50 pounds of oedema wasn’t going anywhere on its own) are vivid. I could work out a thousand times in a day and never experience the fatigue signaled by the clicking and swooshing from that archaic blood cleaning beast to which I’d be attached for nearly 3 hours at a time.
I am feeling every ache and pain of my 40 years – especially those gifted to me by the demands of a rewarding dance career. Still, I am reminded that only 8 years ago I was given my life back by an incredible team of angels in the southern hemisphere. It is hard to imagine that the face and body I so readily criticize were absolutely unrecognizable as I woke up in Montevideo, oedema ridden and unable to roll over let alone speak. I find it funny how readily I whine about the depth of each fissure on my face (though never a laugh line), the presence of an extra dimple on my thigh, or the unrelenting pound that I tend to credit to rapidly decaying youth, when I’m so grateful to be experiencing them. The seeming impossibility of having nearly died at such a young age, though I’d wish it on no one, was, in fact, an experience for which I’m extraordinarily grateful. Whether a gift of serendipity or some grand plan set in motion by forces beyond my understanding, I continue to walk this earth with what I can only describe as an aimless drive – some unnamed purpose (the loving spouse of potent appreciation) spurring perpetual kinesis.
Disney World and Disney Land were sites of some of my favourite family memories.
I can’t help but look back to the first day my Uruguayan PT Sebastian told me to “try” to stand up. It seemed to be such a silly command…until I did as I was asked. As instructed, I (with help) ‘swung’ my legs over the side of the hospital bed, tried to stand, and immediately felt my world shatter. With every ounce of my might, I tried. Despite a lifetime dedicated to movement and my best biomechanical efforts, I couldn’t do it. Entirely defeated, I ‘allowed’ Sebastian to help me up, performed my best assisted Tim Conway impression to the lounge at my bedside, and then repeated the process back to bed. That was it for Day 1. Day 2, while still frustrating, was a bit better as I ascended with less assistance, albeit still quite ungracefully, and completed my round to and from the chair. Day three, less help. The process continued until I was allowed supported strides of nearly a foot in length to help me reach the end of my bed. Eventually I was presented with a walker that signified a new level of freedom (the hall beyond my hospital room). Yup, a 31-year-old dancer and a walker. It was a picture I’m sure, especially with the oedema than concealed my previously small(ish) frame and put pressure on joints that at the time never knew much more than 120 lbs. The memory of that process lives in my joints but has, in wonderful ways, shaped my approach to movement in my aging body (“aging body” while accurate for anyone beyond 18, sounds awfully dramatic, now doesn’t it?!). It also spurred my [delayed] adoption of the growth mindset that has since shaped who I am as a person, eternal student, and educator.
Never imagined I’d make it to Petra, Jordan, never mind with these beautiful humans!
A couple of weeks after being transported back to Canada I was granted firsthand exposure to the shortcomings of an underfunded medical system (not a reflection of my wonderful medical team, rather the excessive demands put on too few individuals in wards far beyond capacity – I never made it out of my transient ward, but was grateful that I wasn’t in one of the beds that made the hall their home). I was discharged in time to celebrate my 32nd. Since then, I have had a team of general and specialist practitioners tending to my pancreas, kidneys, and the organs their deficiencies affect. As much as my Uruguayan angels brought me back to life, this team has since kept me on planet earth. I saw my nephrologist for our routine check-in sometime in February. If I could have chosen a governing practitioner from the many I saw at Mack, he’d have been in my top two. I remember learning of his surprise that I was still alive after the trauma my body endured. It renders me prideful as much as it illuminates the gravity of what I experienced.
Honningsvåg, NO; Chichén Itzá, Yucatan, MX; Headed to the Arctic or Antarctic circles (can’t remember!); Tracy Arm, AK, US; St. Thomas, USVI
February’s bloodwork suggested an improvement in my kidney function to a point I haven’t seen since being discharged 8 years ago, and though my dear nephrologist was only cautiously optimistic (this can be a paradoxical sign of decline as much as a sign of improvement), I am grateful to have entered this next decade with a bit more than I had [yesterday].
Singapore, SG; Georgetown, Penang, MY; Colombo, LK
The last 8 years looked very different than I had imagined they might. My plans have always been fluid to accommodate the uncertain nature of a performing career, however I never suspected I’d be spending time with some of the kindest, most talented, hard-working, interesting, and amusing individuals to walk this planet. I have been gifted the opportunity to teach humans from tot to twilight, from all walks of life – people who see the world through very different eyes and approach it from very different perspectives. I have felt my heart grow two sizes as I make space for the minds and hearts with which I’ve been entrusted, and I have felt my brain turn to glorious mush as I try to manage the busy schedule with which I’ve been blessed.
Longyearbyen, Svalbard, NO; Ushuaia, AR; Antarctica
What a charmed little life: North and South Pole visits within 5 months of each other!
This past year, I felt my love of teaching, especially teaching DANCE burn brighter than I had in a long time. Seeing the success of ever-inspiring students who have gone on to pursue their dreams (dance or otherwise), and watching the growth of those still in the comfort (okay, or discomfort) of adolescence is a privilege. I have felt a hunger for my own knowledge and growth, no more or less, but different than I have in the past. I just want to soak it all in. Experiencing ADAPT and witnessing educational excellence in action, sharing space and language, while humbly bearing witness to the humility, hunger, and honour of one of the world’s greatest (JSS), and teaming up with an old friend for whom I have a respect and reverence she couldn’t understand have made this year one of abundance > growth, joy, and connection. You see, my heart had to expand to fit such gratitude.
If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?
Sure…if it were the Auckland Bridge!
Dravuni Island, FJ (where I was stung by a jellyfish); Hobbiton, NZ; Walter Peak, Queenstown, NZ; Kuto, Île des Pins, NC; Hobart, Tasmania, AU.
For all the goals I met there were others I didn’t reach. But…to the brilliant insight of the Dalai Lama, “…sometimes not getting what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”. Though I can’t always see it with clarity, I’ve felt the good fortune of horseshoes, shiny pennies, and clovers of four leaves guide me in the direction of what I need rather than what I want.
Fishing for piranhas on the Amazon, catching street meat in Manaus, and wading in the water in Alter do Chão, Carnival and Christ the Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
I’ve seen 7 continents and had extraordinary experiences, of which many could only dream. I was gifted my first post-secondary education and afforded myself another because learning is for life; and yeah, I trust the “psyence” (don’t get me started on unfounded conspiracy theories and logical fallacy). I have more love in my life than most could fathom. My family, though perfectly imperfect is tight knit and ALWAYS in each other’s corners – we’ve shared wonderful times and weathered storms that could break the best of us. For each experience, we stand a little taller and a lot stronger. I’ve many close friends who I seldom see – whether around the corner, south of the border, or on an entirely different continent, and my love for them stretches aROUND this earth more times than the human language can express. I don’t throw the words “best friend” around lightly (though I have a handful of most-cherished), so the title, held by my best of decades, for me, is deeply meaningful. Her kids are two of the loves of my life, even though I don’t see them enough.
Iceland and Norway stole my heart. Give me fjords, and I’ll give you a happy me!
Land of the Midnight Sun…That last photo was take at 12:01 AM.
My once very high bar has returned to raise, and with it my motivation and spirits. Integrity is no longer something I am willing to compromise, and while I sometimes experience mild trepidation when honouring my values above all else, I have realized that the inevitable benefits far outweigh any pitfalls. I understand that money is important, but values are vital. I have learned to admit when I am wrong, but to apologize only when I mean it (authenticity can be tricky when matters of the heart are at hand). I have learned to say “I love you” – a lot (and I DO mean it).
Couldn’t count the European adventures on two hands. Heavens, I’m a lucky gal!
If you are walking this path with me, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I’m eternally grateful. Self-indulgently, I could say so much more but by now, I’m more than a full month past 40 and if I don’t share this now, I never will…
Until next time…
With ALL of that, it’s funny to see some of the faces that were once my own…
Homebody Movement Lab 