Last Tuesday, after class with Mandy, we had a little celebration. Everybody brought some food and we sat around a table under a tree and drank some of Mandy’s old Champagne (which was hardly fit to drink anymore, but produced lots of laughs) and talked. I tried to be sociable, but it’s hard, I always tend to fall silent and listen to the others rather than make conversation. The weather was nice, warm and dry, and everybody was talking about recipes and such. I found it a little sad that we weren’t talking about ballet. The Tuesday group is really nice, most are re-beginners who only dance once a week and don’t seem to take it very seriously. Maybe that’s why they are easy-going and fun. Of the more ‘serious’ students who take class daily, GPS went home and June and I were rather quiet and boring.
When I got home I was feeling a little tired and lonely, listening to music that made me think of Elinor and Daniel and that longing feeling. I opened the top part of my letterbox and when it was empty, it seemed to fit right into my mood of ‘nobody loves me’. I even hesitated before opening the large compartment of the letterbox, thinking “Who would put anything in there for you? And you’re not expecting any parcels.” But I opened it anyway, and there was a tinfoil package in it with a funny note from my sister (Sissy), and two chocolate muffins! A little bit of love from home, all the more sweet because it was very unexpected. Sissy keeps surprising me with thoughtful or generous actions when I least expect them. She had been visiting her best friend who lives above me, and thought of me. It made me happy and a little sad at the same time, because I DO miss my family. I go home for a visit on the weekend usually, and exchange a few text messages during the week, but it’s not the same as seeing everybody daily, even if for the last few months I only saw them when I came home at night and they used to all be absorbed by a screen and we hardly spoke. This weekend, I’m going to stay a little longer, not just for a meal and a chat.
As I half expected, moving out has made me feel my loneliness more acutely. This is a good thing, in a way, because I am more focused on other people, enjoying friendly interactions at work or in class, and just thinking about relationships more. I am also in a weird mood, ever since returning from Switzerland. I keep thinking about love, and sometimes wishing I was in love – and then being afraid of it, of pain and heartbreak and embarrassment, and counting myself lucky to be alone with nothing to disturb my peace of mind. But it is definitely on my mind all the time, whether in my ‘thinking game’ or in real life.
It seems to me that this is a phase of change, of development. It’s difficult to put into words. I feel sort of ‘new’ every few weeks, new in my changing body and new in my mood and ideas. Mrs. H said that I am literally ‘taking shape’ in every aspect. I do feel more ‘feely’. More open, more vulnerable. It is also connected to my body, mostly my upper chest. I lost a lot of fat there. My jaw and collarbones are clearly visible, and the muscles in my neck, too. Yesterday, after the shower, I could see faint outlines of – gasp- RIBS on my chest. I catch myself with my hand on my chest a lot, or feeling the bones. I feel naked and insanely unprotected sometimes, physically AND emotionally. My emotions seem to be linked with this part of me.
In ballet, too, when I REALLY dance and don’t hold back, it feels as if I project everything from there. Most of my favourite pieces of music and songs have a deep strong bass, and I love nothing more than feeling the vibrations of the music in my chest. It is like having the music WITHIN you, feeling the beat as your own heartbeat. Oh, it is indescribable. Sometimes I can hardly bear it. I want to MOVE, to dance, to run, to fly. Riding a bike or swinging on a swing are ok substitutes, though. As long as I feel myself moving through the air, and the wind against me. Maybe that’s why windy weather always stirs my soul? Because it’s all connected: body, spirit, mind and music.
I once read somewhere that Gene Kelly used to run through the forest for hours as a boy, just because he loved feeling the air against his body.
If I really get into this mood, which I like to emphasize with music, I may walk along or stand in a bus like always, but inside, it is as if I was being pulled apart. There is LONGING, for something… To sing, to dance, to fly away or scream, I don’t know, to expand? To have another person acknowledge me, adore me, really truly understand me and all the things I long to express, all that I am. To exchange words and gestures of infinite tenderness.
Somehow, if there was such a person, I would feel more real, more legitimate. I think that I don’t trust myself and my own feelings enough. I may experience and observe them, even analyse them and write them down, but unless I can SHARE them with someone, they don’t seem entirely real. Being alone has made me much more aware of this phenomenon. If I don’t speak to anybody for a day, it feels as if all I did and thought that day might never have existed. It’s very weird.