I try to keep my social media presence happy. I focus mainly on dance, social awareness and education. I want it to be a positive place where I can celebrate art and love and the good of people. I do post about politics on twitter but keep most of my darker emotions inside or save them for the occasional blog post, like this one here. However, I will circle around and end with love and gratitude. I promise.
This has been a fucking hard week. I have been sick; fever, coughing, no voice exhausted sick. (One of my little ones yesterday responded with a incredulous, "You are sick AGAIN Miss Nancy???" ) I am worried about a dear friend going through a hard time. I am a bit blue because the play that I directed closed. I never know when the next one will come, there is always a whispered fear that I will never work again. To add to the melancholy, my family did not make a single inquiry about it, from start to finish. I try to ignore that, but it is hard. I am struggling to stay above water financially and every single time that I start to make inroads, something shitty happens. I have been without a car for 8 months now, and during that time have been navigating LA solely by bike, with the occasional metro boost. It is hard. I often ride 50 miles a day, and few days are less than 25 miles. I really try not to complain, even when the winds are 40 miles per hour or it rains. Motorists in LA do not like cyclists and occasionally there are people who intentionally try to run you off of the road or scare you with their horns. So many more people do so carelessly by paying more attention to the illegal text that they are sending than to the path of their vehicle. I have fallen and been injured four times. It is painful and embarrassing and terrifying but I just keep going, bruises and scars be damned. A couple of dear friends help me out on the occasions when I absolutely need a car and I could not be more grateful for their generosity. Difficulties aside, I am actually pretty happy with this lifestyle and am in no hurry to buy a car. And yet......
LA is the bike stealing capital of the universe. Yesterday I walked out of the school where I teach tiny ballerinas and found nothing but a hacked tree where my bike should have been. Broad daylight with a parent standing guard, and someone HAD TO CUT A TREE TO STEAL IT. Amazing. This is the second bike that has been stolen from me in six months. My soul feels more than a bit bruised. It is more than a bike to me. It is my freedom, my sanity and my livelihood. I got angry. My anger does not go outward. It turns inward and is dangerous and destructive. My impulse as I rode the waves of it yesterday was to hurt myself. It is MY fault that bad things keep happening to me. I deserve this. I don't do enough good in the world. I am dark and ugly and hateful. I was tempted by razor blades, by the allure of sharp knives, by my fingernails. Someone was kind enough to help me along by posting on my Facebook page "what did you DO in a past life?" adding to the chorus of voices of my own internal blame. OF COURSE the act of some lowlife stealing my bike is my somehow my fault. After all, I was in a bad neighborhood (teaching small children, tutoring as a volunteer.....), I left it locked up outside rather than bringing it indoors where it would block the hall and create a hazard. I am a bad person, a loser myself, dark, evil, repulsive. Someone who should not exist at all. This is where my mind goes. But the sharp objects did not win out yesterday. I fought them off. Then there was one message, then another and then one more. Friends offering to help with a new bike. No blame, just understanding and an offer to help. I ignored them at first. Help and kindness, especially when I am in a cycle of self recrimation, are hard for me to accept. I was busy internally, fighting my urges. I didn't cut or rip at my skin or do anything other than walk. I walked it off. It took two and a half hours and many miles to do so, but those amazing offers made it ok and after initially pushing them away, because I don't deserve help because of all of that self hate, I relented just a little. I said yes to one and may say yes to the others. That softening of the guard allowed the tears that I had been holding back to start to seep out. A text that I received this morning softened me some more. I am moving on. I ordered a new bike. I will figure out the finances. Things will move forward. And my next bike will be microchipped so that I can find the thief and use these cycling augmented ballerina legs to kick him to the curb.
