What do you do?

Originally posted on OnStage Dance Company website blog:

What do I do?

I dance.

And I travel. And I work. And cook. And eat. And teach. And fail. And laugh. And write. And sometimes run. And sometimes not. And I explore. And get lost. Very often. And also trip. And I love. And create. And I procrastinate, unfortunately, more than I’d like to admit.

Oh, and I read.

And recently I read a book entitled The Geography of Bliss and I want to tell you a little something about it. No, it is not a self-help read, although maybe, in a way, I suppose it is. The book follows NPR correspondent Eric Weiner as he travels the world in search of the happiest place on Earth. Despite the adage, I often judge books by their covers, and the world map folded into a paper airplane ready to launch, pictured on the front of this memoir, drew me immediately to the outdoor sale rack of a locally-owned bookshop. I have a small but aggressive strand of wanderlust, and when I can’t be traipsing the globe, displacing myself into different landscapes and cultures, I enjoy living vicariously– this time, through self-proclaimed grump Eric Weiner.

The book was really good; you should read it! But, I digress. As he travels from one country to the next, West to East and back again, Weiner explores positive psychology from all angles and landscapes—unpacking the different ways we define happiness and seek it; how we quantify it, and how it manifests in ways beyond measure. In addressing some of these differences, he notes that each country has a “cocktail party question”—a simple, one-sentence query which, based on that population’s priorities and interests “unlocks a motherlode of information about the person you’ve just met.” In Switzerland, he observes, it is “where [what town] are you from?” In Britain, “What school did you attend?” I think in Ecuador the question would probably be “What do your parents do for a living?” and in Thailand, perhaps “How much money do you make?” or “Can you eat spicy?”

Take any or all of these with a grain of salt, of course, but I really think that Weiner may have hit the nail on the head for the good ole U.S. of A:

What do you do?

Truly. Have you noticed? This itty bitty sentence– these four, one-syllable words, strung together with upward inflection– are inserted into nearly every new encounter. I know what you’re thinking– harmless, right? Perhaps, but speaking as someone who is in a state of professional “transition” (as I like to call it), and was un[der]employed for the better part of last year, let me tell you that I have developed a strong aversion to the cocktail party question. What do I do? Is this what I want to be doing? Does it bring me pride? Fulfillment?  Self-worth? Is what I do to pay (or not) the bills really what makes me “me”? I’ll spare you the nitty-gritty, but suffice it to say that, for me, 2013 was largely a minor existential crisis.

So what does this disjointed mess of a blog post have to do with OnStage Dance Company?

I danced my entire life—from “animal crackers in my soup” at age three, up through college, after which point other goals, adventures, jobs, passions, pursuits, and probably excuses let the performance-based dance that I love fall to the wayside. I don’t regret any of these goals, adventures, jobs, ect. The past five years have been challenging and remarkable. But dancing is part of the very fibers of who I am.

I’ve never been the best dancer in any group of which I’ve ever been a part; my technique certainly leaves plenty to be desired. But when people see me dancing, I believe that they can see my love for it. I believe that this love shines out my fingertips and toes and elbows and eyeballs, and that they understand something that is more fundamental to who I am than waiting tables or answering telephones could ever be. Dance is expression in its most rudimentary form—requiring no tools, no instruments outside from your own body and mind. It is celebratory. It is poetic. It is collaborative and it is athletic. It is the most satisfying mix of creativity and endorphins.

Dancing again, for the first time in years, was part of an effort to shift my focus from what I did not know to what I do. I’m still searching for a better sense of geography– of my own place and purpose in this world– but in the meantime I’ve managed to accept this uncertainty and turn toward those things that I know bring me happiness. Dancing with OnStage this past season was an opportunity to stretch my body and soul in a way I hadn’t in some time, and to meet a wonderful community of people who share that passion. Dancing and friends. These are things that make sense to me. These are things that bring me bliss.

I know that this story is not unique. I know that these are the questions of many-a-20-something-year-old, and it is unnerving, though also strangely comforting, to realize that these also may be the same questions of so many older and wiser than me. For the time being, I am following my bliss, and I think that that is a good strategy. Even as the uncertainty moves aside to make way for stronger, clearer goals, I hope to always remain committed to a more holistic definition of “self” than what I do to pay the bills.

I’ve never been a whiz at math, but I do know that the sum is always greater than its parts, and I believe that I am greater for the arts.

Underwater dreaming

Every little girl from my generation had her favorite Disney princess. Not every girl from my generation can still, twenty-odd years later, sing the entire score from their princess’s movie, but that’s beside the point.  For me, this princess was none other than  ginger fish-girl, Ariel.  I remember singing “Part of Your World” alone in the dark basement of the house I grew up in, fantasizing that the shelving unit my toys were stacked on was actually the levels upon levels of “gadgets and gizmos aplenty” that I stowed in my underwater cavern of treasures.  I was a a bit of a dreamer.

This past weekend was a four-day-er, thanks to the Buddhist lent.  Buddhist holidays are to me now what Jewish holidays were to me in grade school– religious rite for you, day-off for me.  So, I observed the sacred days by catching an overnight bus down Thailand’s southern peninsula last Wednesday, and by Thursday morning I was walking the gloriously sunny, white-sand Sairee beach of Ko Tao; where my first order of business was to find a dive school.

The beauty of the Thai islands (you know, aside from the glorious sunshine and white-sand beaches) is that there is truly something for everyone. You’ve got your party islands, your chillaxin-in-a-hammock islands, your fishermen islands, your rock-climbing islands, your scenic vista islands, your almost-like-Tom Hanks-in-Castaway islands. You name it, Thailand’s got an island custom-made to fit your own little idea of “paradise.”  Yeah, it’s a really rough life here. And Ko Tao? Ko Tao is the diver’s paradise. Crystal clear turquoise waters, living coral reefs, Flounder, Sebastian and the hot crustacean band, and best of all, unbeatable prices.  This little cashew-shaped island off the western coast of the Gulf of Siam is crawling with divers, both experienced and aspiring, as the costs are said to be some of the cheapest in the world. Still, with just under 3 days on the island and limited funds in light of my upcoming travel adventures, I opted for a one-day non-certifying “Discover SCUBA Dive,” with the enthusiastic and laid-back folk at SCUBA Junction.

The first hour of my dive-day was a quickie dry-land lesson on theory (I guess just strapping an oxygen tank to my back and dumping me off the boat is irresponsible?).  Alex, my instructor, explained to me and my fellow try-diver all the ways we could go about rupturing an inner-ear membrane, squeezing a lung, or getting attacked by a triggerfish, and taught us the strategies and sign language we could use underwater to avoid said complications.  Then, it was time for action!  SCUBA Junction doesn’t have a pool, so we started off by practicing the essential skills in some shallow water off the coast of Ao Leuk beach. I stood on my tippy-fins as Alex reviewed each skill from our  crash-course, then we we let some air out of our vests so that we slowly sank down to the ocean floor, where we sat on our knees for pop quiz time.  Somehow, being deprived of oxygen while I had to retrieve a lost regulator (the thing you breathe into) was no issue for me, but I had a small panic attack when my goggles filled up with water and I couldn’t properly drain them.  Alex calmed me down and had me try a few more times, but somehow this skill and I just weren’t jiving.  Finally, he said to forget about it, and that in the unlikely event that it became a problem he’d bring me to the surface.

THEN came the moment I’d been waiting for.  My mermaid moment.  I found my zen-place and we swam off into deeper water to explore Ko Tao’s lesser-known world. Within minutes, a baby stingray floated by us like a tiny flying carpet (…wait just a second here! Which Disney film is this???!). In that moment I was officially hooked (no pun intended).  I snorkeled for the first time back in 2010 in the Galapagos and saw some incredible creatures– a giant mama stingray nuzzled into the sand on the ocean floor, some playful sea lions and torpedo-esque penguins zipping through the blue, a white-tipped reef shark just kind of… chillin’.  The aquatic life, to be sure, was in much more variety in the Galapagos, but the serenity of the experience was rudely interrupted every couple of minutes when I’d break through the surface, spitting out salt water and gasping for air as I shook my mask clean. This new sensation of being… suspended… and enveloped in a thick, warm air- entirely weightless, was completely surreal.  Also, I had mermaid hair.

From what I recall, my first SCUBA experience looked a little something like this.

My try-dive friend and I followed Alex around like little swimming puppies (dog-fish?), marveling as he became an underwater magician.  Waving his hand in front of some coral, tiny little Christmas trees in vibrant yellow, red, and blue blossomed and retracted before our eyes, and some giant, curvy-mouthed shell opened its  jaws, sensing his approach. We saw butterflyfish, moorish idol fish, parrot fish, Nemo fish (sh#t! Wrong movie again!), and another, larger stingray with glowing neon blue spots.  At one point, a school of tropical fish nose-dived down to the ocean floor from atop a big coral cliff– a waterfall of grey and gold.

SCUBA didn’t come naturally to me, but as we glided along I began to get the hang of controlling my depth, breathing out long and hard to feel my body sink further down and inhaling deeply to fill my lungs with air and rise closer to the surface. It was a totally new way to control my body, and I never really achieved a good balance, but enjoyed exploring this newfound power in my breath. As time ticked away I was amazed at how long I could really stay part of this world.   Fifty minutes after our descent, it was time to get back on the boat. But, thoroughly seduced and craving more, I eagerly forked over the 850 baht to go for a second dive.

So much for trying to save money by doing a try-dive. Now that I’ve had a little taste I am greedy for more.  I’m thinking about splurging on my Open Water Certification before I leave here. On one hand, it is rather pricey, but on the other hand, I probably can’t do it cheaper anywhere else, and how often are you living in South East Asia?  Things to consider…

I’ll leave you with some photos of the stunningly beautiful Ko Tao, and it’s baby sister island Ko Nang-Yuan.  Hoping to return here before I bid farewell!