Breathing In...

A breath of the cold New York air. When you walk the streets of New York at night, you see the theater of the living. There's nothing like it. The night was cold as ice, but I needed the chill to remind me just how human I really am. I'm breathing- barely breathing. I passed a family as I walked home from rehearsal. They were cold, their clothes were ragged, and looked as if they didn't know where their next meal was coming from- my heart went out to them. I wanted to go to them, to give them all the money I had, to feed them, help them- just something. I passed a man who was singing at the top of his lungs, to everyone, and no one. Lost in his own little world. What euphoria that must be- not having to deal with the stress of reality.

I got lost in the faces, captivated by the sights of each individual. I saw a thousand emotions in a matter of minutes. If you allow yourself to look around, it can overwhelm you. It's in your face, so you either deal with it, or you don't. You either cave in, or harden your heart- there's no purgatory on the streets of New York City.

After a harsh reality check, I needed to escape. I needed to dance. I walked down to the dance studio. There are no classes on thursday night, so I knew I could dance my heart out, and on one would bother me. I could cleanse my mind, body and soul through dance. I changed my clothes and played the entire "Flashdance" CD. Flashdance. How ironic is it that a movie about a welder/exotic dancer produced so many beautiful artistic dance routines? I know each dance by heart. I feel the music. I feel the dance. It reminds me I'm alive, and what an outstanding gift God has given me.

I didn't close the blinds. Anyone walking down the streets could watch me. It didn't matter. I had nothing to hide, and nothing to show. I wasn't performing for anyone but myself. I was pushing myself for me. I was breaking through, re-connecting with who I am. I was absolutely exhausted by the time CD was finished. I sat down wearily against the wall of mirrors and took a good hard look at myself. I really, looked at myself. I'm pushing 30. I've been riding through my life being the "nice girl", the "sweet girl", the "sister". I'm a woman. I have thoughts. I have interests. I have needs. What am I doing about this? Going to the bars and getting drunk isn't cutting it.

I stood up, wiping the tears from my eyes. I'm ready to start over. I'm ready to be who I was born to be, not who I was made to be. I'm ready to do what I expect of me, not what everyone else expects. As I spun around one last time, I saw someone watching me out of the corner of my eye. By the time I was able to turn around- they were gone. I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, nor do I know how long they were watching me. It doesn't matter- it's not about them, it's about me. It's about looking forward, without fear.