Friday, September 25, 2009
In Search Of Excellence… Inspiring Or Intimidating?
In a recent class, we were discussing Best Practices; the ideal standards, the levels to which we aspire and sometimes experience when we’re doing (and being?) our best.
Some students stayed behind after the lecture. I expected they’d be energized – if not outright enthralled – with the possibilities. But as my wise friend and writing partner Beth Page says, “Expectations are planned disappointments.”
I really wish I remembered her counsel as I awaited the students’ comments, which essentially were:
“Those practices… that’s not reality, it’s the rare exception. Why even bother telling us about them, when we’ll never get to experience it ourselves? It’s depressing.”
I was so astounded, the best response I could offer was some mealy-mouthed, “thanks for your input” kind of acknowledgment. But it stuck with me, and it’s taken me some time to work it out.
It’s easy for me to explore this from a distanced, philosophical point of view. But when I recall a recent time when I personally encountered Best Practices, I start to appreciate the students’ perspective.
For me, few things are tougher than entering a dance class where everyone is a lot better than I am. I’ll happily be doing my thing, and suddenly realize that people around me are moving in bigger, bolder, and more beautiful ways than I ever imagined.
In fact, some of them are doing things so quantum-ly different from me that I’m momentarily stunned, then panicked: “Uh oh. How did I get here?” Facing this much excellence is more than humbling.
I have two options, which might be labeled “Fight or Flight,” but that’s not 100% accurate. Flight? Always a possibility. If I allow myself to be overcome with embarrassment, I’ve been known to make a quick, yet still mortifying, escape. But Fight? It doesn’t have to be the only other alternative (nor is it often ideal in a dance studio).
So Flight or… Float?
What if I can release my instinct to run, and instead open my eyes and my mind to all that’s around me?
The anxiety evaporates. I see the grace, strength, flexibility, elevation, commitment…. and I am in awe. And rather than finding myself deficient in comparison, I become inspired to go further myself.
Granted, it’s not often easy for me to ‘float.’ It requires that I willingly risk facing intimidation in exchange for the possibility of inspiration.
But to me, that’s the ultimate point of exploring Best Practices. To see what’s possible, to replace fear with wonder, and to apply that inspiration as fuel for our own continuing growth.
What do you think?
Some students stayed behind after the lecture. I expected they’d be energized – if not outright enthralled – with the possibilities. But as my wise friend and writing partner Beth Page says, “Expectations are planned disappointments.”
I really wish I remembered her counsel as I awaited the students’ comments, which essentially were:
“Those practices… that’s not reality, it’s the rare exception. Why even bother telling us about them, when we’ll never get to experience it ourselves? It’s depressing.”
I was so astounded, the best response I could offer was some mealy-mouthed, “thanks for your input” kind of acknowledgment. But it stuck with me, and it’s taken me some time to work it out.
It’s easy for me to explore this from a distanced, philosophical point of view. But when I recall a recent time when I personally encountered Best Practices, I start to appreciate the students’ perspective.
For me, few things are tougher than entering a dance class where everyone is a lot better than I am. I’ll happily be doing my thing, and suddenly realize that people around me are moving in bigger, bolder, and more beautiful ways than I ever imagined.
In fact, some of them are doing things so quantum-ly different from me that I’m momentarily stunned, then panicked: “Uh oh. How did I get here?” Facing this much excellence is more than humbling.
I have two options, which might be labeled “Fight or Flight,” but that’s not 100% accurate. Flight? Always a possibility. If I allow myself to be overcome with embarrassment, I’ve been known to make a quick, yet still mortifying, escape. But Fight? It doesn’t have to be the only other alternative (nor is it often ideal in a dance studio).
So Flight or… Float?
What if I can release my instinct to run, and instead open my eyes and my mind to all that’s around me?
The anxiety evaporates. I see the grace, strength, flexibility, elevation, commitment…. and I am in awe. And rather than finding myself deficient in comparison, I become inspired to go further myself.
Granted, it’s not often easy for me to ‘float.’ It requires that I willingly risk facing intimidation in exchange for the possibility of inspiration.
But to me, that’s the ultimate point of exploring Best Practices. To see what’s possible, to replace fear with wonder, and to apply that inspiration as fuel for our own continuing growth.
What do you think?
Monday, January 5, 2009
Setting Intentions Over Making Resolutions
Happy 2009!
It’s the new year, a great time for making plans, setting goals, envisioning our dreams. As I consider what’s ahead, I’ve decided to advocate for setting intentions, rather than making resolutions, for 2009.
Resolutions can be a wonderful kick-start to get us going in new (and presumably better) directions. They’re aspirational, but they also seem to be burdened by obligations, the almighty “shoulds.”
To be resolute is to be committed, but there seems to be an inherent seriousness – almost a grim-ness – associated with making them. New Year’s resolutions often relate to changing habits, and focus on our deficiencies. Really, how often does someone resolve “to continue being as joyous and wonderful as I already am?”
The underlying message of New Year’s resolutions seems to be, “I need to do more (or less) of this, I need to be more of this,” which indicates a deeper sense that “I am not enough as I am, so I must resolve to…”
I also believe that the process of setting resolutions also tends to establish a win-lose outlook. I will resolve to do X, and I will either succeed or fail.
In contrast, I believe that setting intentions is a more self-generous approach.
To be intentional is to be purposeful. Setting an intention can help us clarify our focus. It encourages thoughtfulness, and heightens our awareness of our choices. Intentions help us chart a course, but they also allow for contingencies, welcome possibility, and encourage flexibility. With intentions, we can make progress directionally, even if the specifics happen to change along the way.
The difference between these concepts reminds me of an idea my friend Beth Page created, about the “WHATNESS” and the “HOWNESS” of things.
Resolutions fall in the WHATNESS category – they ask us to focus on what we must do, change, improve, etc.
Intentions are more about the HOWNESS – the approach we choose to take.
Don’t get me wrong – I'm all for personal change and growth. But I wish for the process to be more joyful, not obligatory.
So this year, I intend to set intentions rather than resolutions.
What do you think? Is there enough accountability in intentions, or does it take resolutions for things to “stick?” Have you made resolutions or set intentions for the year ahead? Is this all just semantics, or do you think there are real differences?
Here’s to a fabulous 2009 for all.
It’s the new year, a great time for making plans, setting goals, envisioning our dreams. As I consider what’s ahead, I’ve decided to advocate for setting intentions, rather than making resolutions, for 2009.
Resolutions can be a wonderful kick-start to get us going in new (and presumably better) directions. They’re aspirational, but they also seem to be burdened by obligations, the almighty “shoulds.”
To be resolute is to be committed, but there seems to be an inherent seriousness – almost a grim-ness – associated with making them. New Year’s resolutions often relate to changing habits, and focus on our deficiencies. Really, how often does someone resolve “to continue being as joyous and wonderful as I already am?”
The underlying message of New Year’s resolutions seems to be, “I need to do more (or less) of this, I need to be more of this,” which indicates a deeper sense that “I am not enough as I am, so I must resolve to…”
I also believe that the process of setting resolutions also tends to establish a win-lose outlook. I will resolve to do X, and I will either succeed or fail.
In contrast, I believe that setting intentions is a more self-generous approach.
To be intentional is to be purposeful. Setting an intention can help us clarify our focus. It encourages thoughtfulness, and heightens our awareness of our choices. Intentions help us chart a course, but they also allow for contingencies, welcome possibility, and encourage flexibility. With intentions, we can make progress directionally, even if the specifics happen to change along the way.
The difference between these concepts reminds me of an idea my friend Beth Page created, about the “WHATNESS” and the “HOWNESS” of things.
Resolutions fall in the WHATNESS category – they ask us to focus on what we must do, change, improve, etc.
Intentions are more about the HOWNESS – the approach we choose to take.
Don’t get me wrong – I'm all for personal change and growth. But I wish for the process to be more joyful, not obligatory.
So this year, I intend to set intentions rather than resolutions.
What do you think? Is there enough accountability in intentions, or does it take resolutions for things to “stick?” Have you made resolutions or set intentions for the year ahead? Is this all just semantics, or do you think there are real differences?
Here’s to a fabulous 2009 for all.
Monday, December 22, 2008
How I Am Living
How I Am Living.
It’s the title of a friend’s Facebook photo album.
It shows photos of her new apartment.
But the words themselves – holy cow. To express it explicitly: How I Am Living.
Not just thinking about it, talking about it, even writing about it.
Actions speak louder than words, right?
So here goes. How I Am Living right now…
Appreciating this life I get to live. The time even to jot down these thoughts.
Enjoying the company of my sweet, earnest beagle.
Thanking the genius who created the remote-controlled, rotating space heater.
Seeking a better blend of BEing and DOing.
Resolving guilty feelings over not volunteering nor donating as much as I could.
Contemplating the value I place on “rightness” – what if not being right doesn’t mean being “wrong?”
Doing my best to Dance Through Life…
…with Love, Truth, and Possibility.
How Are You Living?
It’s the title of a friend’s Facebook photo album.
It shows photos of her new apartment.
But the words themselves – holy cow. To express it explicitly: How I Am Living.
Not just thinking about it, talking about it, even writing about it.
Actions speak louder than words, right?
So here goes. How I Am Living right now…
Appreciating this life I get to live. The time even to jot down these thoughts.
Enjoying the company of my sweet, earnest beagle.
Thanking the genius who created the remote-controlled, rotating space heater.
Seeking a better blend of BEing and DOing.
Resolving guilty feelings over not volunteering nor donating as much as I could.
Contemplating the value I place on “rightness” – what if not being right doesn’t mean being “wrong?”
Doing my best to Dance Through Life…
…with Love, Truth, and Possibility.
How Are You Living?
Friday, November 7, 2008
A Job is Allowed to be Joyful
An international student wrote this phrase in an essay describing his personal philosophy of corporate social responsibility – when corporations embrace the triple bottom line of people, planet, and profits. While his overall paper was stellar (he got an A), this particular phrase stopped me from reading further:
A Job Is Allowed to be Joyful.
One might categorize such a statement as naive – "he’s still a student, wait til he gets out in the “real world!” etc. – But perhaps it's more akin to "out of the mouths of babes." This philosophy directly contradicts most of the conversations I hear -- and have -- about work. Most of those conversations involve the dreaded “gotta” aspect:
I’ve gotta do this…
I’ve gotta take it on…
I’ve gotta travel…
I’ve gotta put up with it…
I’ve gotta keep going…
What’s left unsaid: “…Even though I don’t want to… or else I’ll lose this job.”
What’s worse, most of these conversations are also counterbalanced with “Can’t” conversations
I can’t ask for that…
I can’t do that…
I can’t suggest that…
I can’t not…
I don’t know the Latin roots for “Gotta” and “Can’t,” but I suspect their psychological roots are tied to Responsibility and Obligation. And in my view, Obligation is inevitably linked to Desperation and its cousins, Frustration and Disappointment. And it’s all centered in Fear.
So we "gotta" work and we "can't" whatever, and I think these are especially powerful because most of us still define ourselves by the work we do.
What happens if I am not just my work any longer? What happens if I “fail” at my work because I stopped "gotta-ing"? Does that by extension mean I’m a failure at being me?
How much do"gotta-ing" and "can't-ing" eliminate the potential for work to be joyful?
Whenever we invoke “Gotta,” it implies we don’t have a choice. But in fact, we are choosing – we are choosing to do what we “gotta,” and we are refusing to do what we “can’t,” all based on beliefs we hold and assumptions we are making, most of which are based in fear of rejection or reprisal.
The healthier substitution for "Gotta" is "Get To," as in, "Today I get to teach, go to a meeting, do performance reviews, check my email, etc." But how often do we view our work as an endless series of opportunities?
I am not saying that work is all sunshine and lollipops. Work doesn’t have to be – nor seldom is it – all easy, all fun, or even all satisfying. It can be taxing, infuriating, frustrating and yes, disappointing. I'm sure you could add more adjectives to this list yourself. I’ve even experienced work that I considered to be “soul-killing.”
Psychologist and author Charlotte Kasl says one’s success depends upon how we interpret a situation, and how we choose to react to it. We have choices. We label (interpret) our work, and then we assign meaning accordingly. So why not choose to find Joy in some aspects of our work?
Granted, how we might receive that joy isn't universal. Exec coach, educator and author Vance Caesar has a great question he asks about people and their relationship to work: “Are you getting as much as you’re giving?”
He means not just "getting" in a monetary sense, but in any of the ways that work can fulfill our needs. For social interaction. Prestige. Power. Challenge. Problem-Solving. Independence. Camaraderie. Whatever floats your particular boat. (If you're not sure, Edgar Schein has a fantastic list of job "must haves" in his Career Anchors self-assessment ).
Whenever we work, we enter into a transaction. In Managementspeak, those would be the “inputs.” We agree to give energy, attention, effort, brainpower, physical labor, time, etc. Our inputs are transformed into outputs, and in exchange, we receive… well, each of us may be motivated by different aspects of our work, but generally it means we receive income, gainful employment, possibly benefits, and all the rest that goes with it.
The key, according to Caesar, is to make sure the transaction is acceptably profitable to us. We have to maintain our own balance sheet, and that empowers us to make our own choices.
So, who came up with the urban legend that work has to be grueling, unsatisfying, nose-to-the-grindstone, just marking-time-until-retirement? That suggests we’re all just eking out barely enough to keep going, that what we get is all we’re entitled to, and however paltry, we’d better satisfied, “or else” -- perish the thought.
Fear can keep us in jobs we do not love. Fear can keep us tolerating unhealthy workplaces, dysfunctional work relationships, and doing soul-killing work. I have always been an advocate for "dancing with your whole self free" -- discovering your life purpose, finding the work that makes your soul sing, and reveling in the joy of it all.
And along comes an insightful and gifted student with wisdom beyond his years, with his completely fresh perspective. I am not advocating that people stay in jobs that are wrong for them, but I am also challenging the idea of job as 8-hour Torture Chamber.
Indeed, if a Job is Allowed to be Joyful, then on whom does the responsibility for our satisfaction ultimately fall?
What do you think?
A Job Is Allowed to be Joyful.
One might categorize such a statement as naive – "he’s still a student, wait til he gets out in the “real world!” etc. – But perhaps it's more akin to "out of the mouths of babes." This philosophy directly contradicts most of the conversations I hear -- and have -- about work. Most of those conversations involve the dreaded “gotta” aspect:
I’ve gotta do this…
I’ve gotta take it on…
I’ve gotta travel…
I’ve gotta put up with it…
I’ve gotta keep going…
What’s left unsaid: “…Even though I don’t want to… or else I’ll lose this job.”
What’s worse, most of these conversations are also counterbalanced with “Can’t” conversations
I can’t ask for that…
I can’t do that…
I can’t suggest that…
I can’t not…
I don’t know the Latin roots for “Gotta” and “Can’t,” but I suspect their psychological roots are tied to Responsibility and Obligation. And in my view, Obligation is inevitably linked to Desperation and its cousins, Frustration and Disappointment. And it’s all centered in Fear.
So we "gotta" work and we "can't" whatever, and I think these are especially powerful because most of us still define ourselves by the work we do.
What happens if I am not just my work any longer? What happens if I “fail” at my work because I stopped "gotta-ing"? Does that by extension mean I’m a failure at being me?
How much do"gotta-ing" and "can't-ing" eliminate the potential for work to be joyful?
Whenever we invoke “Gotta,” it implies we don’t have a choice. But in fact, we are choosing – we are choosing to do what we “gotta,” and we are refusing to do what we “can’t,” all based on beliefs we hold and assumptions we are making, most of which are based in fear of rejection or reprisal.
The healthier substitution for "Gotta" is "Get To," as in, "Today I get to teach, go to a meeting, do performance reviews, check my email, etc." But how often do we view our work as an endless series of opportunities?
I am not saying that work is all sunshine and lollipops. Work doesn’t have to be – nor seldom is it – all easy, all fun, or even all satisfying. It can be taxing, infuriating, frustrating and yes, disappointing. I'm sure you could add more adjectives to this list yourself. I’ve even experienced work that I considered to be “soul-killing.”
Psychologist and author Charlotte Kasl says one’s success depends upon how we interpret a situation, and how we choose to react to it. We have choices. We label (interpret) our work, and then we assign meaning accordingly. So why not choose to find Joy in some aspects of our work?
Granted, how we might receive that joy isn't universal. Exec coach, educator and author Vance Caesar has a great question he asks about people and their relationship to work: “Are you getting as much as you’re giving?”
He means not just "getting" in a monetary sense, but in any of the ways that work can fulfill our needs. For social interaction. Prestige. Power. Challenge. Problem-Solving. Independence. Camaraderie. Whatever floats your particular boat. (If you're not sure, Edgar Schein has a fantastic list of job "must haves" in his Career Anchors self-assessment ).
Whenever we work, we enter into a transaction. In Managementspeak, those would be the “inputs.” We agree to give energy, attention, effort, brainpower, physical labor, time, etc. Our inputs are transformed into outputs, and in exchange, we receive… well, each of us may be motivated by different aspects of our work, but generally it means we receive income, gainful employment, possibly benefits, and all the rest that goes with it.
The key, according to Caesar, is to make sure the transaction is acceptably profitable to us. We have to maintain our own balance sheet, and that empowers us to make our own choices.
So, who came up with the urban legend that work has to be grueling, unsatisfying, nose-to-the-grindstone, just marking-time-until-retirement? That suggests we’re all just eking out barely enough to keep going, that what we get is all we’re entitled to, and however paltry, we’d better satisfied, “or else” -- perish the thought.
Fear can keep us in jobs we do not love. Fear can keep us tolerating unhealthy workplaces, dysfunctional work relationships, and doing soul-killing work. I have always been an advocate for "dancing with your whole self free" -- discovering your life purpose, finding the work that makes your soul sing, and reveling in the joy of it all.
And along comes an insightful and gifted student with wisdom beyond his years, with his completely fresh perspective. I am not advocating that people stay in jobs that are wrong for them, but I am also challenging the idea of job as 8-hour Torture Chamber.
Indeed, if a Job is Allowed to be Joyful, then on whom does the responsibility for our satisfaction ultimately fall?
What do you think?
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
I Don’t Care if Sarah Palin Has a Mustache.
I don’t care if Sarah Palin has a mustache.
I don’t even care if the GOP gave her a $150,000 makeover because she was Not Ready For Prime Time (though I love the irony, given how Tina Fey’s successful lampoon has once again resurrected SNL).
I don’t care what Obama’s middle name is (although I do think that assigning him a religious affiliation because of his name is as silly as saying that Tiger Woods must be an animal carved from mahogany).
I don’t care if John McCain left his wife for a younger, prettier, richer, addicted version.
I don’t care if Joe Biden is mouthy.
The realm of mindless news used to be limited to celebrity gossip. But this is the Presidential election, and arguably this century's most important yet.
What counts is policies and positions, but even these are secondary to Courage, Character and Integrity. The real, authentic, down-deep stuff. The stuff of LEADERSHIP.
We’re living in a world where families who may already have been living paycheck-to-paycheck are now dangerously close to being turned out into the street. The recurrent refrain in earnings calls is not IF jobs will be lost, but how many. Well-intended bail-outs and incentive checks are being stored for a rainy day (whether that’s right or wrong is a subject for another day).
For now, we need to be able to hang on, toughen up, and deal with the mess we’re in.
In two weeks, we need to pick the leader who we believe is the best qualified to help us do that.
And that has really nothing to do with the candidates’ choice of greenery, or dress size, or whether they have a tattoo or color their hair.
Our country and the world are in crisis; Nobel-winning economists are regularly making comparisons to The Great Depression.
I only wonder if they have mustaches.
I don’t even care if the GOP gave her a $150,000 makeover because she was Not Ready For Prime Time (though I love the irony, given how Tina Fey’s successful lampoon has once again resurrected SNL).
I don’t care what Obama’s middle name is (although I do think that assigning him a religious affiliation because of his name is as silly as saying that Tiger Woods must be an animal carved from mahogany).
I don’t care if John McCain left his wife for a younger, prettier, richer, addicted version.
I don’t care if Joe Biden is mouthy.
The realm of mindless news used to be limited to celebrity gossip. But this is the Presidential election, and arguably this century's most important yet.
What counts is policies and positions, but even these are secondary to Courage, Character and Integrity. The real, authentic, down-deep stuff. The stuff of LEADERSHIP.
We’re living in a world where families who may already have been living paycheck-to-paycheck are now dangerously close to being turned out into the street. The recurrent refrain in earnings calls is not IF jobs will be lost, but how many. Well-intended bail-outs and incentive checks are being stored for a rainy day (whether that’s right or wrong is a subject for another day).
For now, we need to be able to hang on, toughen up, and deal with the mess we’re in.
In two weeks, we need to pick the leader who we believe is the best qualified to help us do that.
And that has really nothing to do with the candidates’ choice of greenery, or dress size, or whether they have a tattoo or color their hair.
Our country and the world are in crisis; Nobel-winning economists are regularly making comparisons to The Great Depression.
I only wonder if they have mustaches.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Backhausdance - Shift
My friend Jenny Backhaus is one of the most amazing choreographers I've ever seen - and I've seen a fair amount of dance, good and bad (and danced a fair amount myself - mostly bad. Speaking of which, my apologies to everyone who ever sat thru a concert where I danced. I lacked perspective at the time).
Last Friday, Jenny's company, Backhausdance, had its premiere at the John Anson Ford Theatre in LA. It was a great crowd and a wonderful program. The center piece, "Shift - Sink/Push/March/Float," is described as: "...a dance in four sections exploring our desire to lift and support each other, both physically and emotionally."
The pas de deux (couple's dance) in the "Push" section literally made me weep.
I find that in so many p-d-d's, the dancers feign cheerful, unabated adoration for one another, or engage in exaggerated romantic pursuits (boy chases girl, girl chases boy, they end up happily ever after, usually with some supported pirouettes). In other, "darker" pieces, the tone may be more somber, yet the mechanics are essentially the same.
In "Push," the relationship is... complex.
The featured dancers, Andrea Brache and William Lu, performed amazing acts of physicality and grace, but more than that, they achieved an extraordinary level of connection as they continuously intertwined to Zoe Keating's rich and languorous score. There were no sequins or flashy costumes; in fact, their simple clothes were flesh-colored, as if to reinforce the naked humanity underlying the piece (the other dancers, who performed in the other 3 sections of "Shift" also were costumed in a muted color palette).
In "Push," the relationship is... honest.
At points, one physically supported the other, tenderly cradling their head or making it possible for them to continue (including the girl carrying the boy in a prolonged lift). At points the choreography made me think of disassociation - of supporting out of obligation rather from intentional choice - but reciprocity and re-engagement always re-emerged.
For me, "Push" so completely captures our dance through life. There are times we stand alone, yet we are never really alone. At times, we have to prop one another up. Occasionally we're the one who's leaning more heavily, and sometimes we are dragging (pushing?) the other to keep (them or ourselves) going. And sometimes, we have to let go entirely, believing there is someone who will to catch us when we fall.
Last Friday, Jenny's company, Backhausdance, had its premiere at the John Anson Ford Theatre in LA. It was a great crowd and a wonderful program. The center piece, "Shift - Sink/Push/March/Float," is described as: "...a dance in four sections exploring our desire to lift and support each other, both physically and emotionally."
The pas de deux (couple's dance) in the "Push" section literally made me weep.
I find that in so many p-d-d's, the dancers feign cheerful, unabated adoration for one another, or engage in exaggerated romantic pursuits (boy chases girl, girl chases boy, they end up happily ever after, usually with some supported pirouettes). In other, "darker" pieces, the tone may be more somber, yet the mechanics are essentially the same.
In "Push," the relationship is... complex.
The featured dancers, Andrea Brache and William Lu, performed amazing acts of physicality and grace, but more than that, they achieved an extraordinary level of connection as they continuously intertwined to Zoe Keating's rich and languorous score. There were no sequins or flashy costumes; in fact, their simple clothes were flesh-colored, as if to reinforce the naked humanity underlying the piece (the other dancers, who performed in the other 3 sections of "Shift" also were costumed in a muted color palette).
In "Push," the relationship is... real.
This was not a happy-happy, hand-holding-and-skipping-to-the-joys-of-life-and-love piece. No showboating common in conventional p-d-d's ("you do some fouettes, then I'll do a bunch of piros, then we'll each do big jumps, criss-crossing the stage"). Those are fun and lighthearted, but they are fantasy.
Here, Andrea and William danced individually yet continually in relationship to one another. It was so bittersweet to watch the dancers interact -- even dancing as a single unit, there was a sense of their individuality. Connection, disconnection, reconnection, opposition and synchrony.
In "Push," the relationship is... honest.
At points, one physically supported the other, tenderly cradling their head or making it possible for them to continue (including the girl carrying the boy in a prolonged lift). At points the choreography made me think of disassociation - of supporting out of obligation rather from intentional choice - but reciprocity and re-engagement always re-emerged.
For me, "Push" so completely captures our dance through life. There are times we stand alone, yet we are never really alone. At times, we have to prop one another up. Occasionally we're the one who's leaning more heavily, and sometimes we are dragging (pushing?) the other to keep (them or ourselves) going. And sometimes, we have to let go entirely, believing there is someone who will to catch us when we fall.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
