I was reading just now a passage in a book discussing the superb dancing of Mikhail Baryshnikov, and had a sort of aha moment. A revelation, if you will. See, in our (rather numerous) family, skill has always held a somewhat peculiar position. Growing up, each of my cousins had "a thing". A skill that was theirs. My eldest cousin had piano, while her younger sisters had drawing, and of course, ballet. Had as in pursued it seriously, with an outlook to a professional future in their chosen craft.
None of us realized the precise point where they became defined by it.
It was always "X with the piano" or "Y with the drawing". My grandmother, in her final years, had amassed quite some confusion about the interminable number of siblings, so she'd ask me, whenever discussing so-and-so, this one's the dancer, right?
The dancer's dream shattered.
To an extent, all of their projected futures did, as is inevitable for the adulthood dreams of our youngest years. But the dancer's destiny was quite a blow. Told that - by some physical bad luck - she didn't have it in her to continue dancing, the little girl shattered. Everyone around her registered it not so much as a loss, but as a failure, one to hold the little girl against. And you can imagine, being blamed for losing something you wanted your damned hardest to achieve, must leave quite a blow for a 10-year-old. (12? 13? I don't remember exactly, but young enough to make an impact)
Still, each maintained their assigned roles, even the dancer with no dancing shoes. For years, they were defined, both within the family and without, by their assigned skills and proposed future metiers.
Now, everyone's in their 20s. The dancer's in a point of such pain and disconnection from self that my eyes water even just writing this. I worry about all of them, but her, most of all, because she is lost. And so crushingly desperate for affection withheld that she will lose herself under the torrent of my demanding aunt, and her gaggle of maleficent cronies.
But this isn't a post designed to publicly wash private laundry. As I was saying, I had a realization, reading just now.
For me, when my cousin stopped dancing, that was that. But in her head, she will always be the dancer who failed. Unlovable. Not worthy of praise. I realized that these denominators, these definitions, the "the dancer" that helped quicken my ageing grandmother's mind -- these are crushing weights to tie around a young person's feet.
I realized, half dreaming of the superb Baryshnikov, what a blow it is, putting someone (particularly someone young) into a box. Which is all the more unfortunate, given that our society excels at it. Of course, we knew this before. We know labelling is bad, but we've a tendency to think only negative labels fall under that. Surely, if I praise you, or capitalize on something you excel at, then labelling you must be a good thing... or is it?
My grandmother continued thinking of my cousin (whom she hadn't seen in many years) as "the dancer" because she was old. Her mind was growing hazy. It was convenient, and through her old age, excusable.
But it wasn't only my grandmother who continued thinking like that. I realized that to my family, the little girl that grew into a troubled young woman remained "the dancer". To be uttered with disappointment, derision, scorn. Made to feel that she had to hide her lingering desire to dance. And I can't help thinking that maybe right now, she wouldn't be so lost if these people hadn't been so quick and so determined in boxing her into that narrow definition of self.
If they could've understood, and through doing so, made her understand also, that it's not our things, passions, words, hobbies, or individual ideas that define us. That beyond all of this, beyond the dancing, and the painting, and the programming, and the plumbing, and the workouts, and the crazy 2AM joyrides, there's something transient inside us. Something untold, and impossible to describe. An essence that keeps our inner light on when our dreams die.
This may sound a little angry. It is. But I reckon sometimes it's good to be a little angry. And obviously, someone's being lost, someone's pain, anguish, and inner struggles, are seldom as easy as a "what if" or as a session of laying blame. I know that. But the thoughts were bubbling, and it keep being a minute since I've been on here, so here we have it.
How have you been? It's official moving in day for me. Hectic af over the past few days, including the new bedroom getting flooded (joy), but barring a few (I hope minor) appointments and deliveries over the next few days, everything should be up and running pretty soon. I will be back later to check in properly with everyone. Right now, I just wanted to jot down the thoughts before they, as is customary, ran away.
Comment to edit:...
I've had this one open a few times in the last blur of days.
Gawd. Dysfunctional adult children raising children on their own fears and dreams. I hear you in full! It's brutal and so unfair.
Yet we were all seen as extensions of the adults around us before folks began to wake up a bit more. Children to be seen and not heard. And only seen in the manner in which was suitable. Of course.
The good part is... we get to fix it. Remake ourselves. And put that shit down for good!
My role was to look pretty, you know. And smile. And shut up (of course).Yet I never was a pretty girl. Striking perhaps. Pretty no. And fuck knows I didn't feel much like smiling at all, mostly. Quiet - yes. But possibly because of the fallout when things were challenged around there. You know how this part goes, I'm sure!
Nowadays I scowl with relish and enjoy how much less of a girl I am becoming (and looking) :D It's very liberating, btw! Gettin' witchier by the day. All I need is a stick and a hat! 😈
p.s. I wonder if she even was a dancer by choice right from the get go? I suspect probably not! #justsayin
She's lucky she has you.
Ha, upvoted last night, but damn phone wouldn't let me highlight anything to reply. Long story short, here I am, belatedly xD
100%. I can't get over how trapped we still are in this simplified version of "you're a certain age, ergo you must be a functional adult, and warrant respect and whatever".
Such a beautiful distinction there.
All in good time ;) Yet you are, no doubt, made more beautiful through being able to be true to yourself now.
That certainly hits the nail on the head. The whole post was partly inspired by a conversation I had with her older sister, the pianist (way ahead on this whole trauma/transformational path, so I guess woke in all the right ways) and she told me she's come to see her piano playing as a coping mechanism, not a calling per se. Man, that just hit me. I was mentally going "but you're the pianist!". I was so shocked, I guess, to have that image of her challenged by truth. It was enlightening.
I don't know. I'm not sure I can help her, she's shutting herself away from the world, and it's incredibly frustrating seeing it from out here. Helpless.
Well... music has incredible healing powers and we all find our own way of managing, soothing and maybe even healing as we go. Have you checked out the whole sound frequency thing? I've only started to do a bit of research quite recently.
Ah... I don't know anymore. Who says we must be overly social. People hurt. It's unavoidable. Sometimes... after extended years of pain perhaps one just says "enough" for a while. I'm there right now. It's enough for now thanks. I've had enough. For now :)
Maybe one needs to withdraw and avoid further pain to re-balance things out a bit, you know? Gain some momentum with the happy light stuff to rebuild some resilience? Like covering a wound for a while to not keep reopening it for a while.
I wouldn't put her under pressure. Honestly... I get that.
Best thing you can do is heal yourself. People around you will heal by rote.
I have! Tbh, I'm still trying to make up my mind if it's bullshit or not, the whole sound frequency thing. I mean, I want to trust these things, but I'm also aware how easy it is to tap into people's need for comfort and safety, and take advantage of that by peddling stuff, you know? So what have you found so far?
This lady helps me a lot.Her voice sounds like the screams in my head are okay.
I think so too. It feels selfish, realizing how much care and attention one needs to devote to their own healing and journey before being able to even expose themselves to others. But I know it's not, so...
I keep telling myself that.
Here's to happy light stuff <3
Yep. I thought so too. Hippy dippy shit, I thought.
Then I got into the PolyVagal and nervous system stuff.
Now I'm a believer ;)
Funny. I've always used sound to soothe me anyway.
As far as frequency and tone. Yes. I think so. Because we're really just a frequency or vibration anyway. At the moleculaer level. So I don't see why adding another tone or vibration wouldn't affect ours.
As far as humans knowing what does what. No. I'll always be a skeptic.
In fact I'd say not one frequency affects any one person the same, probably.
I do love, and always did adore, Prince though. Not only 'cause he's damned sexy.
He's a great musician. And artist.
And I found this while I was digging a bit.
I suspect it'll resonate with you too :D
https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/432-hz-gold-standard-prince-crystal-sun
I mean, when you put it like that :) You're right, I hadn't made the connection with polyvagal, and with the whole sound-anxiety connection thing that Porges talks about. Thank you for that.
Probably best. I reckon it's a matter of finding what works for you individually and seeing which "health claims" (even alternative ones, I guess) hold and which don't.
That Prince thing is so cool tbh! He had a very unique voice and hold of showmanship, definitely. Put some on now, as a matter of fact :D
Well thanks for not correcting my spelling. Geesh... I can't stand Grammarly and its intense lag so excuse me and thank you! 😅
Sceptic.
Yeah. That's me. These days. Sometimes I forget for a bit and it's nice though... until something reminds me :D
Ignorance is a great drug. Naivety even better!
Prince is AWESOME!
Still! :D Enjoy the tunes
"When Prince was asked over 4000 questions on a website, he chose this single question to answer: “Greetings my dear brother… please address the importance of all music being tuned to 432 Hz sound frequencies??? Thanks in advance!!! Warmest Regards, Emanuel”; to which he replied: “The gold standard”."
Source linked below <3
And her voice is marvelous.
Mezmerising.
Thank you for this.
<3
It’s a difficult thing to be put into a box but it can also be helpful, as it gives people a sense of direction and purpose. When it doesn’t work out such as in this girls case, it can be a daunting thing to shift but peoples perception doesn’t shift.
I don't even know how to feel. I guess your grandmother is excusable. But the rest, always throwing it at her face, reminding her constantly of something she must have had so much passion for is beyond cold.
I get your frustration and I wish I could help her out of the state of sadness she must be feeling. But I wonder what could you possibly say to help her up when she's still constantly surrounded by people that will pull her down emotionally?
I've wondered that myself. And tried telling her everything and anything I could think of. I think I'm going to be quiet for a while, and give her space, hoping she sees the light.