Okay, so it's been a minute or two since I posted here. Alright, maybe more than a minute. But I am back! It is not that I didn't have material or anything to discuss. I have had plenty! But time and patience are two things that have become major players in my daily life. Rather than spend time stressing out over something I created to enjoy, I decided to put it to rest temporarily. I knew I would return, when the time was right.
Isn't it funny how most of us resist change? It seems like human nature to oppose any time we encounter a shift in our routine. We see it in our children daily! They have a meltdown because they don't want to go to school on a Monday after the weekend. They struggle with sharing their precious toys because their friends might harm it or lose it. They are hesitant in new environments that are unfamiliar and often hide their little selves behind your leg as you try to enter a room. Adults are truly no different. As parents, we know that change is inevitable. Our little ones change daily as they develop new skills and personality traits. We look back on baby pictures and fond memories aching for earlier times. But why? Why is it so challenging for us to move forward while we cling to the familiar? Most of my life, I have spent a fair amount of time in one space. For 18 years, I lived in New Mexico with my parents. The next four were spent in Canyon, Texas for college. But there was a time when there was a question where I would be. I moved to Florida and worked some regional theatre contracts, had several sublet apartments in New York, and spent time in between with family and my boyfriend. I actually wrote a song called "My Suitcase Doesn't Have an Address" because nowhere I stayed was truly mine. Forwarded mail and borrowed addresses was my normal. It was quite exciting...until it wasn't. I began to long for the stability of my own apartment with my own belongings. Then I found it and it was lovely, for awhile. The reality that I could stay in that 3 bedroom, 1 bath apartment for longer than a couple of years came to fruition. And I missed my long distance boyfriend terribly. If our relationship was going to survive, I would have to do something I hated doing...change. Fast forward to 15 years later. We own a home and both have stable careers. Our 3-year old is blowing our minds daily with his growth and newfound skills. But watching him grow and looking around our world, it has become apparent that change is inevitable. Once upon a time, I thought I would stay here forever. It didn't matter what we did, children or not. This could be our forever home. Looking back, how silly I was. At such an early age, my son embraces the outdoors and animals of every species. He likes to play in the dirt and run without fear of a car in the road. It seems he has embraced the cowboy life that I walked away from 20 years ago. So, my life is officially making a shift. A friend once told me that "their joy will become your joy". I never knew how much I would miss the quiet country life until I saw it through my son's eyes. Now, everything seems to be noise. And I can't wait to escape it. For the first time in my life, my career is less important to me. My son's happiness is the ultimate priority. Does this mean I am giving up dance, theatre, or the arts? Absolutely not! On the contrary, I am actively pursuing opportunities that might allow me to give him the life he craves and satisfy my own artistic needs. But it is forcing me to slow down, stop and reflect, and do something that I do not normally like to do...change. Change more than just a location. Change my perspective. Change my approach to endeavors. Change my habits. Yes, it is a lot. But when I see the joy in the eyes of that little boy, I don't seem to care anymore. Because he is my everything. And whether I am dancing in a studio or in my kitchen, I am whole when he is happy. Don't be afraid of change mommas. It is coming regardless of whether you like it or not. We might as well embrace it and make the most of the present. Plus, we never know what new adventures might be in store as we take this leap of faith. In the words of one of my favorite songs, "I Hope You Dance": I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean. Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens. Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance, And when you get the choice to sit it our or dance, Dance.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorNikki Allred Boyd (Dancer, Choreographer, Mom). Archives
March 2024
Categories
|