Time. All it takes is time.

That’s a line from a song that has been floating in and out of my thoughts for weeks now, but I can’t place it or find it anywhere!  I can hear the melody and everything, but can’t recall any other lyrics, much less where it’s from.
Don’t you hate it when that happens?!  

Anyway, regardless– the concept, that anything takes time– is what truly resonates with me.
Time to grow
Time to heal
Time to learn
Time to practice
Time to adventure
Time to gain perspective
Time to understand
Time.

Time is something I’ve struggled with in various ways over the years.
Wishing I had more time
Remembering back to a different time
Not knowing what to do with my time
Having to much to do and not enough time
Wanting to go back in time

The list could go on.

But it’s not ok to live like that, I’ve discovered. Always living in a different time. Because then you are never living in the NOW, you will miss all the experiences and people that are coming and going around you because you are to busy stuck in a past time.
I’m not saying this is always easy, but when you can it opens you up to a lot of fun things.

This isn’t intended to be a long story based post, just a short muse on a topic… and to out these song lyrics out there into the universe, that maybe someone will recognize them and help me fill in what I’m missing, or just what the song it!

Anybody  know??  Or have personal reflections on the concept of time?  How it’s affected you?

Comment, share, like, tweet, reblog, etc!

Time is always been something I’ve struggled and played with- so much so that it, and a book titled, “Einstein’s Dream”, sparked a dance piece that I did the summer before my 1st year of college.  I don’t share this one much, and no comments on my movement technique at the time, but I think we all wish we could freeze some moments.  (And yes, back to the days of being super blond!)

 

I hope you all enjoy,

 

lovealways,  christiane

 

“it is’t yes, it’s not quite no”

[She] “Sometimes has to Cry” (On the Bathroom Floor)

This is usually where I tend to find myself when I’ve come to the edge and without stoping gone right over and then I’m very much stuck. It’s not often, but 3 very distinct life changing times come to mind any time I find myself back there on the cold hard tile.

Most recently… today actually… avoiding eye contact, I slumped into the bathroom at work and crumpled onto the floor. I knew I was feeling overwhelmed at work and that I’d let some things slide, but I didn’t realize just how bad it was till I had a meeting with my boss. The meeting wasn’t all bad and I love my job and my boss- don’t get me wrong- but I realized how much I’ve been holding back… holding in… and that it was starting to negatively affect my work ability and performance.
I felt so embarrassed for bursting into tears then slinking around the studio because my face was red and blotchy and my eyes bloodshot. But I didn’t realize how much I needed to cry.
After the breakup and move, I felt like I was cried out… I don’t think I’ve cried sense then, till today. I was tired of being emotional and teary-eyed everywhere I went… But given the right time and place, a good cry can actually be a good stress release and allow you time to clear your head and be ready to come back to the situation with better perspective. At least that’s what I’ve found.

Over the years I’ve learned that it’s hard for me to show weakness, fear, and insecurity. I’d say it’s something I work with regularly… and just when I think I’ve made improvements, I find myself drying at work and posting about it on FaceBook– maybe one of the most un-adult ways to handle a situation… and I remember I’m not as strong, brave, and stable as I want to be or as others think I should be. This has cost me relationships and trust, but it’s also pushed me in better directions.
It may be embarrassing, but I’ve learned something every time and come out somehow better in the end, and I hope that by sharing, I inspire someone else to face what it is that they struggle with and come out stronger on the other side.

The first time I can remember I was in 10th grade… in dance class. I had just decided I was going to be a dance major and was placed in a more advanced class. We had a guest teacher that day- a DSA grad come back from college to teach us a special master class. I tried, oh boy did I try, but about 20 minutes in we were going across the floor and I couldn’t, for the lit of my, keep up! I was used to not always getting the movement combinations in class- Marci and Dean can vouch for that!- but I’d give it all I had and look fierce while doing it regardless… but this class got me. I’ve never run out in the middle of a class except for that day– we were gonna go across again faster and I couldn’t– I bolted. Out the door I ran trying to get away before the tears and self doubt poured out.
I found myself on the floor of the girls bathroom at DSA, in a black leo and tights, crying. Questioning why I had ever thought I was meant to be a dancer and how in the world I was gonna walk back into that studio. A classmate, a senior, came in after me. She let me cry… She told me it was fine, that it was hard for her too and that I was going great. I pulled myself together, we went back in, and she went across one last time with me, helping me through the combination.
I realized then, that I had a family and support system in the dance world and that it was ok to not get every across the floor every time. I promised myself then that I wouldn’t leave a class like that again, but that I would take a breath and go across that one last time, not worrying if I got it or not. I went on to get my college degree in dance performance and I haven’t left another class yet.

The second time was very early the morning of my fathers memorial service, 3 years ago this month, after his 10 month battle with cancer. Now, of course this wasn’t the first time I’d cried during that time, but it was the first time I felt like I cried with nothing holding my back and didn’t know when it would stop. I wasn’t worried about my looks and presentation, or having to communicate with anyone, or having to take care of anyone, or having to run errands… It was just me and the dark pre-sunrise day, and my college apartment bathroom floor.
It came out of no where and I found myself willing to let it run it’s course. I felt scared and alone and worried… confused and mad and very much small and alone. There alone on the floor I yelled, I laughed, I sat in silence, and I cried (of course). I don’t know how long I was there and I don’t really remember going back to bed… But I did, cause when I really woke up that day I felt clean. I knew I needed to be calm and collected for the service… but I know I left a lot on the floor at Avery Glen Apt. 127.

The third time was a few months ago, when my significant other ended our relationship. I couldn’t even pretend to hold it together, I was so in shock and upset. I’ve never had my knees literally buckle under me, but there I was, in the dark on another (much smaller, this is NYC after all) bathroom floor, sobbing my eyes out as a wave of emotions and worry flooded me. Was this real? Why couldn’t we talk about this? What was I doing to do? Where was I supposed to go?
I couldn’t really stay in the bathroom all that long (as between 5 of us roommates we had one bathroom) so the crying continued in the bedroom late into the night, but again I was scarred and wondering what I was thinking getting into this again and hating myself for not being better to someone I said I cared about.

I don’t really have a good way to end this post. So I’ll quote a song that I love and that some people were playing in the subway last night as I was waiting for the train home from work. For the video– check out my Instagram http://instagram.com/p/t6jXyYG4NH/

I pray you’ll be our eyes,
and watch us where we go
And help us to be wise,
in times when we don’t know
Let this be our prayer,
when we lose our way
Lead us to a place,
guide us with your grace
To a place where we’ll be safe.

love always, christiane

This Bed is SO Damn Big- Need More Pillows!

I’ll let you all in on a little secret, for 70% of my posts I’ve already decided on the title then I have to come up with the body content. So, when this phrase showed up in my head, I wrote it down to save until I was ready to write the corresponding post, figuring it would be some sob-story, nostalgic post about missing by (ex)boyfriend, and how sleeping alone is so… well, lonely, and yadda yadda yadda.  (especially considering where it’s from)

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But laying in bed last night, forcing myself to fall asleep in the middle of my huge queen size, pillow top bed and not being able to get the title song (of this post) out of my head- I decided what I really needs were more pillows!!! Ya know, decorative throw pillows, to fill up the extra space, to look pretty, to lay on, to set stuff on, and just to be… there. Something to make it feel not so empty…. Make this bed feel a little less big.
Ok, maybe I’ve been spending to much time at Pier 1, but I’ve always loved throw pillows!

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Of course waking up the next morning. The previous nights decisions sound totally ridiculous… And expensive. This made me rethink, or think about at all, how much importance I… or we as a society… Place in material things. I am totally guilty of this. “Oh, if I get that lamp, pair of shoes, necklace, bottle of wine, glass figurine… I’ll be happy”!  But once that thing has become yesterday’s news, are we ever any happier? In the long run, probably not… And if you are budget conscious, you are probably even more disappointed. At least, that’s the story of my life.

Yet somehow, I can’t seem to find or maintain those non-tangible things.  AND here’s where it gets sappy.  We all knew it was coming eventually.  I truly miss sharing a bed with the person I lov(ed).  I would never want things to “go back” to the way they were, cause clearly that wasn’t good for any part involved… but did it have to be that way?  We may never know.  And I may never be able to sleep through the night without making my way over to the right side of the bed and waiting for cuddles…. at least until I get lots more pillows!

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love always,  christiane

We Say “Goodbye” to out Girls

“We all have the opportunity to leave our footprint in the sand”

Often we say goodbye and really mean, I’ll see you later. But there is always the looming goodbye that you know is really the last one. I don’t mean to sound harsh or negative or depressing or mean… It’s the circle of life and I’ve experienced my share of it… So I speak from my experience.
The physical being may be gone but the memory lives on in photos and those of us left behind. Sometimes the later in I’ll see you later, may be a long way off but memories are forever. I’m always a fan of “remember the good times”, the times before you fought, got sick, moved on, left. It’s easier said then done though, I know. So here’s to a post about memories and goodbyes.
I just found out my mom had to put her dog to sleep. Scamp, or little dog as I always called her, had lost most of her senses and her organs were failing internally. While we all called her our puppy dog, she was well over 10 years old. She had a great life full of long walks, popcorn, groomers, and food. But that doss not make it any less hard to say that last goodbye.20140915-145618-53778687.jpg

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About 5 years ago, we put our other dog, Kate or big dog, down. She to was about 13 and her body was starting to fail her. Even though she always wager her tail when she saw the treats come out or the harness go on, I the end she could hardly stand. It was better for her and for us, to end the pain and remember the good times. Because those are what matters…. While both good and bad build us up, break us down, and make us individuals.

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And senses I’m already crying, I will make this a full “in memory” post and white about my dad. We are just 1 month shy of the 3 year date of his passing from an aggressive form of kidney cancer… If you didn’t know that happened, well, now you do. In a whirlwind of a 10 month downhill spirally world changed and I was saying a goodbye that would never be I’ll see you again. What can you do? The body fails but the spirit and Emory lives on… If we dwell on that goodbye we never move forward. It becomes a ball and chain, weighing us down and holding us back. However, if we remember their spirit and channel that in our daily lives, we grow and move onward… Living with their memory and guidance.

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We are shadows.

Alright, that’s enough emotions for me today… But it saves me from writing a blabbering unreadable post on October 19th.
The take away, love the moment and live it to the fullest. Love those around you and love yourself… even when it seems impossible. I like to believe that goodbye doesn’t mean goodbye, just I’ll see you later… And depending on what you believe, maybe that’s true… But it’s never any easier.

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Reflect, share, comment, like, follow, enjoy.

Love always, Christiane