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The Double Meaning behind the blog title 'Dream Follower:'
First, for 14 years I was a ballroom & social dance instructor, and have studied both leading and following. I feel that learning to follow is full of nuance and is often misunderstood. I made it one of my personal goals to become a really excellent follow on the dance floor, and will probably talk a lot about the art of following - both in and out of the context of dance.

Second, I am a huge fan of author Michael Ende, probably best known for The Neverending Story. The book is incredible, and the first film captured some of the essence. (Please don't watch the other two films...I urge you to read the book though!) Anyway, at least twice in my life I have been caught in a storm of my own indecision, and my inner Moon Princess yelled to my inner Bastian...'Why don't you do what you dream?' I tear up even now as I write this little blurb. The tension between being practical, keeping my feet on the ground and my head out of the clouds (at the risk of compromising my inner vibrancy, true self, and who knows what else)...and reaching for my true dreams (at the risk of losing everything) is still a very real struggle. In fact, one of those struggles lead to my 14 years of teaching dance, so we can see which voice won the battle that fateful day when I was staring at the want-ad...

And so I strive to be two kinds of Dream Followers in my life. One has to do with connecting with others, and the other has to do with connecting with my inner Moon Princess and the world of possibility that opens when I do...

Thursday, May 1, 2014

School Lunch Times

Most people dreaded quizzes, teachers, exams and homework. I dreaded lunch time. Staring across the ugly orange tray at tables partially occupied, my stomach in knots, my breathing shallow, wondering if I should be brave today or be alone again. This question followed me to college, where I would see easy banter over the table and rather than interrupt by joining I would sit at an empty table, hoping someone would wave me over to join them or maybe at least someone quiet would sit down with me at this empty table soon. In third grade, I'm sure I sat alone. In high school I would often abandon the whole construct fleeing into the hallway with my lunch tray, leaning against the lockers and eating alone. I do remember finding some other refugees there and so we kept each other company, finding a quiet solidarity in our communal escape from the torture and isolation. So funny because I know for some people school was play time with friends interrupted by boring classes. For a lot of my school time, I enjoyed relating to the teachers and the material better than my flailing attempts to relate with my peers. I was an intense young person. I was too open and honest at first. I felt everything all the way. So lunch time was stressful and often lonely, emphasizing a dissociation/isolation that had been introduced at age 4...

I do not miss lunch times like that...

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