I'm the Satellite, And You're the Sky

And just like that they all say goodbye. I was good until they started to cry...so we cried together. I've spent the better part of 10 years with so many of them. How blessed and lucky I am to have them in my life...they fill me up and remind me that all is right in the universe. See you soon sweet kiddos!

And they left me with this manila envelope full of motivation. Colorful 5 inch squares filled with words, well wishes, pictures, jokes, and mostly love...all wishing me a safe journey and reminding me that whatever gets thrown at me...wind, rain, hills, bad attitudes, flat tires, lack of confidence, sore muscles, a sore bum...that I need to remember my own advice.

I can't wait to read your notes and I look forward to little parts of YOU reminding me to

GET OVER IT! 

And We Go Back To Where We Moved Out, To The Places

The best thing about moving is the things we find as we pack away the "stuff" and neatly place memories in boxes. I came across a sweet little book that had been displayed on a bookshelf in my bedroom...a book given to me for Christmas when I had moved to Colorado...from my bratty little brother, Caleb, who was 11 at the time. He isn't so bratty anymore, but I guess 16 years does that.

For a brief moment I forgot how horrible moving was and remembered how blessed I was to have a family that loves me...always. 

I smiled and wrote, in Italian, on the box...FRAGILE, handle with care.

But the Struggles Make You Stronger, And the Changes Make You Wise

Driving back to the studio after a loooong day I took a moment to remember the music that didn't play quite right, the tan tights that didn't get changed for ballet, the warmth from stage lights and people in confined areas, the ballerina who didn't get her certificate...and then I smiled because small music snafu's could've been much bigger if we hadn't hustled to find a solution after dress rehearsal, and no one in the audience cared about the tan tights, and missing certificates were found, and warmth made us grateful for AC in the car... 

I am blessed beyond measure by the families that support my passion...thank you for reminding me that it isn't about the music, the color of tights, the certificates or the temperature. It's OK to dwell in ALL things that went right and beautiful and lovely and amazing and perfect...the injured ballerinas that GOT OVER IT and went out there anyway. The babies performing for the first time. The grace and growth of ballerinas performing for the 10th year. The smiles and joy on the faces of girls and boys coming off the stage. The hard work and dedication. The older girls that helped little ones. The quick changes. The moms helping. And the love. 

I made it to the studio and unloaded, just like every time before...and I smiled as a picture caught my eye on the way out...it perfectly summed up my day and brought tears to my eyes.

Sometimes we should be a little less hard on ourselves and remember that we ARE doing something right. And at the end of the day...even recital day...no matter what challenges and struggles are presented...it all turns out perfectly!

And It's Nothing Like I Planned It

Sometimes in life you know you're doing the right thing.

Tell Me Did the Wind Sweep You Off Your Feet

Pedal therapy is a real thing...something good for the mind, body, heart and soul. Pedal therapy and wind is also a real thing...but I'm pretty sure not so good for the mind, body, heart and soul. The wind has never really been my friend, and as of late, it REALLY has not been my friend. I'm a strong believer in therapy, especially the pedaling sort. I'm just not sure how effective it is when interference is caused by the wind. Wind is bad enough when you are firmly planted on two feet.

With that being said, spring time in Idaho is unpredictable - yet, I am positive that there is a 100% chance of wind every time I ride my bike.

And even though the two don't belong together, somehow the wind has a funny way of gauging the morale on my bike...and on a scale of 1-100, when it is windy, morale comes in about a -347. Yes, negative three hundred and forty seven...and that is being generous. I've cursed the existence of my bike, I've thrown it down and walked away from it, I've cried on the side of the road...but have always got back on...and have pedaled away a little stronger, sometimes a little more defeated, but always a whole lot more satisfied to be moving forward rather than standing still. And I curse the wind the entire time.

And then little things like this happen:

I find super human powers being passed down to me in the form of a well-loved kit...a surprise package from one kick ass dancer to another. The bibs, the jersey, the jacket...they all fit perfectly...and magically deliver powers beyond conscious thought. The kind that purple unicorns are made of.

and...

Morale has suddenly increased. The wind is a little less fierce. The tears are fewer. And the kick ass has been turned up a notch!

From this small in-between moment of mine, I am reminded that when we do what is necessary....take a nap, build a bridge, get mad, laugh, cry, get a "new to you" kit...getting over it becomes a piece of cake!

To all of you cheering me on from the sidelines:
Your support and love seriously keeps the kick ass turned on! Thank you so much for caring and sharing with me. Thanks for believing in me when I have temporarily misplaced the belief in myself. Thank you for being a part of my getting over it journey!