Fall

Summer is coming to a close, and I can feel it in the air. Its quality is different and the light too. The shadows are longer, and the shafts of end-of-the-day sunlight are more golden and autumnal. This is my favorite time of year, perhaps for its simultaneous blend of things winding down combined with the promise of new beginnings.

This moment is the newest beginning I’ve ever had, and I’ve had many. They all run together, however, in the face of this one, this new road without J and our marriage. This weather, actual and emotional, hammers that point home more than anything. More even than my move to my new apartment. Maybe because the weather is so certain and so beyond my control.

I start back with James Sewell Ballet on Monday. Even though this is year thirteen for me, the feeling is the same: first-day-of-school butterflies and total fear. Once I step into the studio, it will all become clear. I will reconnect with James, resume my close and specific relationships with the others, and see myself in the mirror again. How will I look?

As I’m currently PMSing, slightly rounder. As I botched my haircolor, slightly darker. As my hair’s kind of growing out (what in the hell am I doing with my hair?), slightly shaggier. And as I’ve just climbed a mountain personally, slightly stronger, with a broader visibility on a clear day.

I am happy and sad. These are truly simultaneous. How can one relatively little body contain so much? Sometimes it’s overwhelming. It’ll be a relief to get some of this pent-up emotion out in the studio, through my pores and my limbs and my expression. The wordless nature of my work makes for resoursefulness when needing to get a thing out.

Wordless and wordy. I’ve become very wordy this summer with these blogs and my almost constant communication with friends and family, my support. Plus, my Buddhist chanting, though in Sanskrit, is words. Behind them, pushing them out, are my intentions, my fears, my nature. I try to decifer the mysteries of my heart. I try to look at these squarely and with bravery.

Dancing. When not doing it I wonder how it’s possible, the contortions and the discipline. When doing it I wonder…I wonder.

And that’s the pull…the wondrous gravitational force behind my falling toward the earth. I am of it: dirty gorgeous and bloated with water, full of autumn sun and unpredictable storms to weather.