A Night In My Life

I"m having a wonderful friday night! I'm drinking screwdrivers and listening to Bob Dylan and packing up my outdoor perennial plants out on the porch, and chatting with my great friend, and dancing, and posting here. All at the same time.

Today I tied up a few more loose ends for my move. I phoned the moving company to ask if I need to actually be here when they move my stuff. They're not going to move my stuff until the 19th or 20th of September (to save me money by combining my move with someone else), but my apartment over at the other end will be ready for me on the 15th. Anyway, they told me I don't need to be here! So I'm going to take the bus across the ocean on the 15th, along with a suitcase with essentials for a week, and my computer. My other belongings, including the piano, will follow four or five days later. I will spend that week sleeping on the floor in my new apartment, and eating takeout food (since I won't have any cooking utinsils). My computer will be set up on the floor, and I'll sit crosslegged in front of it. I'm just so excited I can't even express how much.

It's going to so different over there - a kind of life I've never experienced. I have never been close to my family, even as a child. As a young woman in my late teens and early twenties, I used to go through my days in my first apartment, and wish my family could see me. I wanted so badly to share 'a day in my life' with them. I wanted them to see me as my natural self. Now all of this will be possible because I have a new relationship with my mother and my two younger sisters. They will be living in the same city, and coming over to visit me in my apartment. There is a natural companionship between us now, that has never existed before. Finally I feel free to be just me when I'm with them.

I can imagine my mother or sisters coming over on an afternoon, and I would just go about my day while we talked and laughed. They will come to know me as I am in my daily life, and I, in turn, will come to know them as they are in their daily lives. It's a real gift. Something I'd just about given up on.

I had a good talk this morning with my neighbour. Her balcony is right next to mine. I used to have a bamboo blind seperating our porches, giving me privacy. Then one night about a month ago, the wind blew the blind all over the place, and caused the panels in the porch ceiling to come loose and hang down. I waited until two in the morning when the building manager would be in bed, and I climbed up on my porch railing. I balanced up there in my housecoat, clinging to the post, and reached as far as I could, to push the panels back in place. Then I took down the bamboo blind, so it wouldn't happen again, and get me in trouble with the building manager. Now it's an open view between the neighbour's balcony and mine.

I hate the idea of stepping out onto my balcony and having to talk to the neighbour when I'd rather be alone with my book, especially now that it's an open view. Today I decided to be sociable. We've talked before, but this morning was special. I'm glad I made the decision to step out onto my balcony instead of waiting until she'd gone back inside. She came over with her bowl of cereal, to the railing dividing our balconies, and suddenly we were engaged in a serious discussion. We talked about relationships, and the importance of being true to one's self. We discussed the ways and means of coming to know ourselves in order to avoid the pitfalls of letting a partner completely take over our lives. We shared our experiences - how we'd both been in relationships where our partner expected to be worshipped and obeyed, without respect for our own needs and desires. We encouraged each other to be strong in the future, and cautioned each other against the mistake of cutting ourself off from real, respectful love. In the end, we agreed that it's best to be comfortable in one's own skin, and learn to live peacefully on our own, while at the same time we must remain open to the idea that there is love out there for us. It's best to relax and let life happen, while at the same time, we are responsible to ourselves to make intelligent decisions. We can choose our own path, but some things must be allowed to happen as they will. Or not. Life is a beautiful thing. What a way to start my day!

This post is all over the place, but I have an excuse - I've been drinking. lol.

Dancing. I want to talk about dancing.

I was raised a Mennonite, where dancing was considered a sin. My sisters and I grew up with the belief that it was all terribly embarrassing to move to music, even just to tap your foot. I didn't relax enough to dance until I was in my thirties. One day I borrowed a video tape on belly dancing, from the library. I waited until my boyfriend (now x) was in the tub, and then I put on my long flowing skirt and tried to move in time with the women on the tape. I soon got over my self consciousness, and began to enjoy myself. After that I couldn't sit still. Every time I had a drink and put on one of my boyfriend's old records from the sixties, I leapt up from the couch and began to dance. I discovered that I have my own style - a combination of belly dancing, hippie, I guess.

I soon discovered something though. Dancing leads to trouble. I went to the bar with my boyfriend (when we were a couple), got up on the dancefloor and danced by myself. I was having a great time until some guy said quite loudly "Your dancing looks so much like sex it should be outlawed!" My boyfriend swept the glasses from our table, onto the floor, barred me from dancing any more, threatened the guy, threatened the barmaid who came to the guy's defence, got himself barred for a year, etc etc etc.

My better memories involve dancing by myself. When I lived with x in the century old haunted house, I used to dance alone in the living room, watching my reflection in the window. There was something heartbreaking about those nights. Sixties music pounding through the house that had stood for over one hundred years ... the ancient fireplace that used to warm a family that was now long gone ... the windows facing the ocean showing an immense view of eternal black sky and sea, broken by the glow of a passing sailboat, or the winking light from someone's fire on Denman Island ... the sense of ghosts watching me, and of the attic above with its hidden nooks and crannies, and the dirt floor cellar below, with its giant old beams holding up the house for a century. I was slightly drunk, and I danced, and I let all these sensations seep into me, and I felt that I was part of that house. Part of the history. My story was being added to the other's stories who had lived there before me.

Now I'm alone in my apartment, still dancing alone, and loving it. For me, dancing is best done alone. It's not lonely, I don't wish for a dancing partner. I love to feel the music pouring through my senses, it's a wonderful thing to feel free enough to move to music. It's beautiful that I've lost my inhibitions and can let my body do its thing.

I've had a wonderful night. Now I'm going to bed. I have to work tomorrow. Goodnight.