Monday, October 28, 2013

Turns Out I'm NOT a Terminator Under This Skin


(I thought a photo from our first shoot in the city cemetery seemed extra appropriate for this post.)

Part of this issue is definitely connected to my Aspie brain in some complicated ways that I won't go into here, but I also think that people in mid-life can relate to this regardless of your brain type.

I thought -- or assumed or was hoping -- that under my skin there was a robot. Or even better, there was a terminator. One of the good ones sent back to HELP John Connor and who really kicks ass and when injured just fixes itself and moves on.

A terminator dancer sort of thing.  Under this skin.

But alas.  No.

Adjusting to the realization that I am truly flesh and blood and that this implies built-in obsolescence -- or DEATH, as so many call it -- has been weirder and wonkier and more difficult than I would have thought.

I had that near death thing happen when I was really little so I'm always like, "I KNOW what happens...I've seen it!"

But deep down...deep down in my hoped-for metal heart, there was some wish for immortality going on that I wasn't really looking at.

My hip dysplacia that I was born with is starting to get really assertive in terms of pain and arthritis.

This is just, as Marcy keeps saying, a fact of my life. An old fact, even, she would point out. She reminds me that I had to have cortizone shots in my TWENTIES and what the heck did I think those were for?! (I did not...as silly as this sounds...put it all together.)

I almost had to get a CANE in my mid 30s, and there were days when she would come home to find me trapped on the steps or the floor, unable to get up.

But...since I started dancing, I whine, I've been so pain free.

No, you haven't, she logically points out.

It just always gets better.

It just always gets better.

Until suddenly it wasn't. It was getting worse.

So much so that I went to a doctor. Which I don't do. Ever.

And he confirmed my greatest fear: that I am, again, made of flesh and blood and that there will some day be an end to me.

I will age.

I will become frail.

I will die.

So will you.

Here's the thing, though: I may not be a terminator but I can still KICK ASS and I can still totally go out fighting.

After some days spent whining and doing a little bit of crying about the terminal nature of all life, I am bucking the hell up and getting back on the horse.

Not a real horse -- that would hurt my hip.

I AM getting back on the horse called "take care of yourself and stop all that freaking sniveling. GET ON WITH IT."

It's all we can do.

If you want to explore more deeply how to create an at-home dance sadhana (spiritual path) practice, you could join my super secret Facebook group, Inferno of Awesome. This group is invisible until you're added. FIRST, make sure you are my friend on FB, and SECOND, ask me to add you.