For this dance, I am grateful.

I woke up in one shitty mood today. This foul mood convinced me all morning long (in its righteous and angry voice) that I had it bad. That the world isn't fair. That the universe is conspiring not for me, but against me.

And then I remembered.

I remembered that 14 years ago this is how I felt pretty much every single second of every single day. And when I felt these habitual feelings of pain and separateness, I would try to drink them away. Or smoke them away. Or Lorazepam them away.

Today, I recalled how trapped I used to be in the addict's loopy loop of misery and indignation. Then I remembered the steps I took toward recovery. I remembered how I began to see more light than dark. I remembered how I had to apologize to my body, with full breaths and mindful movement, until it began to dance for me again.

On Thanksgiving, 14 years ago, with drink and cigarette in hand, I stood in Tina and Mark's garage and told Tina I had to stop drinking. She cried. She had been ready to intervene and was relieved that I didn't force her to that uncomfortable place of friendship. I don't know how I did it, but I did. I stepped into a 12-Step meeting and began to understand how it works: how a person begins to be whole again, one tiny little movement at a time.

I have been building this blog for a month now. I am so excited to embark on a year of dance to celebrate both my 50th birthday and my 14th birthday, the one I was given and the one I chose.

I felt it appropriate to introduce you to "The Year I Danced" with this entry, today, the day my shitty shitty mood reminded me how lucky I am in all ways and how grateful I am for every single person who helped me along the way.

And if you ever need a "dance" partner to get unstuck, please do not hesitate to contact me.


NOTE - Photo is of Jenny Holzer installation in Washington D.C. in 2007.