word of the day: accept

by erika

Hi Friends,

I’m writing today from the back house of a mansion in Dallas, TX, which in Old East Dallas they just call a “house.” I am marveling at the places dance has taken me and feeling grateful for the humans I have met and the things I have seen and felt thanks to this sweet madness. There was never any question about what I wanted to do when I grew up–I wanted to dance. I didn’t just want to be a dancer, I wanted to dance. I have remained ever-grateful for this small distinction.  For there are so many days these days where I do not feel like a dancer…more like a typist, and a conflict control simulator, a broken metronome who just can’t stop speeding up. But then I start dancing. I start verbing not  nouning; I move into the action of the thing that has always reminded me of my most daring relationship to gravity and I know that I am awake in my life as I was meant to be this time around. It (almost) doesn’t matter anymore if anyone even sees.

There is a beautiful elegance that comes with age, an elegance that reflects one’s ability to be without approval.  To approve means to judge favorably. And even though the word “favorably” gets in before the hammer, you still have to maneuver around the judge  to get to the good stuff. My feeling doctor talks about getting rid of the judge all together, jumping the bench, a back high left karate chop to that inner voice with outer form that says “right” or “wrong,” “suitable” or “Get your suit on.”

word of the day: accept

Dictionary.com gives a lot of great words as the synonym for approve, but as I move out of the shadow of need that comes from seeking approval, I think I can baby-step-it over most easily to the synonym “accept.”

accept

verb. believe the goodness, realness of something

This definition feels a little soft (look at me judging) but I love it. And if there’s a judge present in this, she’s dressed in gold and wine colored robes, rocking a tight crop like only Pema Chodron and Annie Lennox can. Speaking of Pema, she tells a story about acceptance that brings with it all the fear and all the deliciousness of this life. She reminds us, in her calm pool, no-bullshit, generosity, that we are always between one ambush or another, one streak of tigers or their gnashing gnarling brethren.

“There is a story of a woman running away from tigers. She runs and runs and the tigers are getting closer and closer. When she comes to the edge of a cliff, she sees some vines there, so she climbs down and holds on to the vines. Looking down, she sees that there are tigers below her as well. She then notices that a mouse is gnawing away at the vine to which she is clinging. She also sees a beautiful little bunch of strawberries close to her, growing out of a clump of grass. She looks up and she looks down. She looks at the mouse. Then she just takes a strawberry, puts it in her mouth, and enjoys it thoroughly. Tigers above, tigers below. This is actually the predicament that we are always in, in terms of our birth and death. Each moment is just what it is. It might be the only moment of our life; it might be the only strawberry we’ll ever eat. We could get depressed about it, or we could finally appreciate it and delight in the preciousness of every single moment of our life.”
― Pema Chödrön, The Wisdom of No Escape: How to Love Yourself and Your World

I love the places dance has taken me–even the cliff-edges of fear, judgement, self-loathing…tigers all around. But I am especially grateful for these brief moments when I sit writing on a rainy morning, quiet, fingers just a little cold, in the back house of a mansion in Dallas, TX, in the back house of myself,  believing in my own goodness and realness, tasting strawberries.

Love to all,

not-so-silent e