I Danced… I Cried…

I did something today that I haven’t done in so long, I can’t remember. I turned on Enya, Caribbean Blue in fact, and turned it up… way up. I danced alone, ever so careful, just swaying to the music fluidly and soulfully, remembering a time when it didn’t hurt to abandon myself to it completely in a large space and dance hard till I was tired. Not dead fatigued tired, but that refreshing, heart-pounding, puddle on the floor feeling when you‘ve done something wonderful and energetic and it felt beautiful. At least I could still feel it in my heart, and love as deeply as I always have that gift I’ve carried throughout my life – one that has given me balance, release, joy, strength, introspection, fury, and inner brilliance. At least I can still be on my own two feet and move to the melody. I may never be as strong as I was then, or able to do as much, but it’s an ingrained part of who I am and always will be. I remembered a friend I used to joyously dance and choreograph with too. Those are days I will not forget.

We do forget to take those moments of abandon when there is pain. Pain has a loud, loud voice and we lose ourselves to it like we used to lose ourselves inside a song when we were so young that nothing at all mattered. We forget and let it thieve away the precious moments we’re all given, and then one day we find that we’re out of moments. I have always prided myself on being the one to savor life, it’s fleeting beauty, and it’s amazing turns, but the last 8 years have strangled me down. My own inner voice has been silenced for far too long, and I’ve had no strength to fight it. I lost myself somewhere in that.

Someone came into my life two years ago that changed me. It’s been a long time climbing out of that pit but I feel like I’m finally grasping the changes that I needed because of them. I feel like I can reach inside and find the things that made me a good dancer with a spiritual heart; that made me an insightful writer with a caring heart; that made me a unique artist with a weeping heart if that’s what it takes. When pain is all you feel, you stop wanting to feel anymore and I was dying that way. I feel again. Not all of it is happy but it’s feeling none the less. There are lost loved ones that I miss… lost loves that I grieve… failed plans that I regret… and all the many truths I still have time to share. I know there are things I want to do that may or may not come to pass but if there’s a way to move heaven and earth to be well enough, by God, I want to.

A Dr today agreed with me. She looked at me and knew something was wrong, and she heard me. I’m no longer accustomed to being listened to and treated as though I’m not an idiot or a hypochondriac. She actually gave me a tentative diagnosis that was sensible. I left feeling weird because I got what anyone else would consider bad news but I was smiling. When you struggle so long to make someone acknowledge your pain, it’s a relief from burden for anyone to stop and SEE you. So… I came home and danced. Then I cried. I cried not because I am sad but because I was heard. I cried for the same reason I danced. Release.

I was told when I was young that I could not make money with my art. Today I don’t care. I’m going to do what I always wanted to and be what I was born to be. It may not look practical to some, and not everyone will see it as useful or conventional, but it’s mine. If I can’t be happy at what I‘m doing, I won’t move. I won’t dance. I won’t cry. I won’t succeed.

When I close my eyes, I’ve always had the ability to step into the worlds of spirit and vibrant living voices of the forest. When I walk alone in the dark in the woods, or wade into the river, I can feel the thoughts my ancestors sent ahead for knowing I would come one day. I can see the deep woods of the eastern Oklahoma hills and the wizened face of my beloved Teacher, rest his soul, as clearly as the last day we spoke there in the oaks. I can hear the screech owl that called the night I finished my Four Corners ritual in a place called Wahil’yi by a tiny local spring, and see my Elder’s amazing blue eyes that he almost never showed anyone, as he handed me the things to remember my Clan by, and spoke of my path and responsibilities. I can feel the cool morning dew falling on my skin in the great Northern California redwood groves, among the ferns and streams of delicate light filtering through its’ canopies. Those things made me who I am today. I will cherish the life they poured into my soul that I may share with others all the beauty that this world has to offer.

Today I may have pain, but today I also have joy. I was heard. I was really seen and heard. I never set out to be an advocate for disease awareness, but if my path has brought me to this… then so be it and some of my art may bring light into someone’s dark world. It has always done that for me. I hope that others will find something of value in it as well.

Tala Smith… Wolf Clan – Aniyvwiyv


About Tala

-Livestream Broadcaster - Active in Periscope & Busker -YouTube, Twitter, Instagram, & Facebook Pages www.talanoexcuses.live Advocacy for better quality of life with catastrophic illness & injury. Conditions I live with myself are my awareness platform: rheumatic autoimmune & neurological, women's heart disease Traditional First Nations (Native American) -Training: Tai Ch'i Chuan, medical terminology, cultural Medicine -Avid about hiking, camping, & outdoor adventure Special Interests: Natural health, everything from East Indian to East Carolina cuisine, 16th Century German fencing Favorite Travel Spots: Yosemite, Catalina Island, E. North Carolina, Northern CA redwoods/coastal rainforest ~I live as naturally as I can, stay on a whole foods diet (as in what I eat, not as in "a diet"), avoid as many synthetic meds as I can, and do not consume artificial sweeteners and most preservatives. If you're curious about why, see my posts.~ Periscope/Twitter ID: Tala_NoExcuses https://badges.wegohealth.com/ha-awards-2016.js?referrer=Owb2x2Nb8L81mhJHyfwGcg

Posted on August 16, 2010, in I Am That Wolf and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Arche Patricia

    Tala: Thanks, I love that. I hear you, and i listen, and i know. I celebrate your dance(I always told my daughter that a dance is prayer with your body, and in this note i can see it. Yes you are an artist, you can write like one, again thanks…so happy my pain brought me to your page, hugs Patty

  2. I’ve heard that too (prayer) and I have always agreed with the idea. In my Native culture, that’s precisely what we do anyway. People who visit Intertribal Pow Wows think they are going to watch a show or a demonstration, but we consider it church. When we dance, we are praying. That’s why there are rules for respect and courtesy in place, and you can’t just wander into the arena whenever you want. No one is allowed in the arena if they have been drinking alcohol either. I’m glad you came here too. I only wish it had been for better reasons, but we have to appreciate the good end results of a difficult path if nothing else. There are always flowers along the way. You just have to slow down and look at them.

  3. Hello [Tala]. Im so happy you finally found a Doctor interested in your health. I hope she is able to give you the care you have needed for so long…

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