Let the Healing Begin!

Well, well well, has it been a long time since I've done this? Too long. So much has happened, most of it pretty insignificant, but I'm sure I'll manage to bring you up to speed eventually, as I plan to make a real go of this blogging thing now.
As some of you will know, I'm not long back from the tour from hell. Just over a month on the road with the Queensland Ballet. New South Wales, Victoria and Tasmania. We started in Frankston, then up to Bathurst, then out to Parramatta before heading down to Hobart. After that it was back up and in to Wagga Wagga, then to Orange before concluding in Wollongong. Maybe it doesn't sound so bad but life on the road with a ballet company really ain't that glamorous. Plus living out of a suitcase and living off takeaway gets tired very quickly. Oh, and did I mention that Lisa, my partner in crime, my sunshine, the person who is all too often the only thing standing between me and complete insanity, got injured and had to go home after Parramatta(two weeks into the tour).
On the bright side, however, there were some great things. Seeing seven new places, and many in between, including some truly spectacular scenery in the Blue Mountains, just West of Sydney (there are pictures, if Blogger ever make the software for publishing photos on one's blog for mac). Meeting my internet Buddies Bodhi and The Other Andrew for the first time in the flesh and spending a truly wonderful day with them in Sydney. They took Lisa and I (on one of the last days before she had to go home) on a wonderful tour of Sydney, taking in The Rocks markets, the Queen Victoria Building (and some of the finest chocolate this chocoholic has ever tasted!), Darling Harbour and the Chinese Gardens of Friendship at Darling Harbour, amongst other things. The weather was perfect and the company even better. That day alone made all the pain of the tour worth it! However, there was also the wonderful day spent in Dubbo. For those of you not in the know, Lisa is from Dubbo. The shows in Orange, what with Orange being so close to Dubbo, were a perfect opportunity for Lisa's family, many of whom have not seen her dance for quite some time, to see her dance. So they all had tickets. When faced with spending the best part of three weeks at home and not able to do much, Lisa opted to go home to Dubbo for part of that time, which also meant that she could come and watch the shows we were doing in Orange, as well as giving cuddles and much moral support to yours truly. So I was able to go back with Lisa and her parents after the show on Saturday night, visiting Dubbo for the first time, and spend my Sunday off there, before being very kindly driven the two hour drive back to Orange early enough on Monday morning to catch the coach to Wollongong. It was a real treat, spending a day with such lovely people in their lovely home. I also got to meet Lisa's eldest Brother Scott and his Wife Karen for the first time, and catch up with the younger of the two (both Lisa's Brothers are older than her), Darrin, and his Girlfriend Cheriee, both of whom I have had the good fortune of meeting before.
Despite those great times though, by the end of it all I was feeling pretty jaded, hating everything and giving serious thought to what I could do if I quit ballet (those of you who know me, and probably any of you who know a ballet dancer, will probably know that this is not uncommon).
So coming home was truly to see the light at the end of the tunnel and sunshine after the rain, and not just in the most literal sense of returning to Brisbane's sunny embrace. It was also coming home to the place we call home now, to our beautiful apartment, with my Beautiful Girlfriend waiting to welcome me, with Gingerbread Men, Ginger Beer and Balloons! You know that feeling of coming home, when you feel you can exhale again. Immediately I could feel all that tension, all the anger began to ebb away. Within a few days of coming back I was almost feeling as good as new.
Needless to say it was straight back into things. We got back to Brissie mid afternoon on Sunday, had Monday off and were back in on Tuesday for a launch on Wednesday (so little of a performance as almost not to be a performance at all, but a performance nonetheless), and another (likewise) performance on Friday evening. A week after that (Saturday just passed), we had the first in a two week run of a new program of the studio series' we do at the Thomas Dixon Centre, where we rehearse. Another stressful week. By Saturday I was pretty much right back there. And you know what? I realised it's not the people, not the situation, but me. Admittedly, there are elements of the work, and people that I work with, that are pretty tough, pretty aggravating, pretty make you want to rip your own head off and throw it at them frustrating, but isn't that just the case everywhere? And I'm just as bad. I should know better, I should be the bigger man, I should be doing the best that I can to make the most of it, to soothe grossly swollen egos, or at least to let it all go right over the top of my head. But I don't, God help me I don't. I let it get right to me. I get so frustrated at people's failings and spend so much time thinking about how I wouldn't do that, or people shouldn't do that, should be more organised, should be more polite, more considerate, have more empathy, not be so bloody selfish! Then I dive right in and aggravate those sensitive souls by not making any effort to conceal that facial expression that says, "What the F.....?", when I'm looking at them. I let them piss me right off, and ocasionally, very ocasionally, I tell them to, "Get off my back for just one second". Not so harsh, admittedly, and not so unreasonable a request either, but something that would have been better left unsaid. For my own sake.
You see that's what it's all about. People plod along in life, acting the way they act, doing the things they do, and not really thinking about it, not looking back to see the carnage they leave in their wake. We connect with so many people, the person that brightens up our morning with an unexpected good deed, the person who pisses us right off by cutting us off in traffic, right up to those people who we hold near and dear, who mean the most to us in life. What truly sticks with us though, is what we feel, how we feel about ourselves, how we handled a certain situation, a day in our life, our life. I don't want to regret being so caught up in what other people are or aren't doing that I forget to enjoy life, to make the most of all the beauty around. I don't want to care so much about what other people think about me that I forget that people will be people, and if some arsehole ruins my day, it's my fault I lost a day through not just going, "what an arsehole", and forgetting all about it, but instead joining in and acting like an arsehole too.
So I'm still thinking about what I can do when I quit ballet, but instead of thinking about what I can do in a real hurry so I can get out quick, I'm going to stick with it a while. I think it's a good opportunity to work on myself so that I don't taint whatever else I do with all this crap. I can then also plan better what I'm going to do, which is not such a bad idea anyway as the career life expectancy for a dancer is probably about thirty five. That does, however, depend on me not having been too much of an arsehole to get my contract renewed next year. Oh well, should that happen, I shall accept it as my fate and work with it. This is where the healing begins. A bit of self arse kicking. A lot of discipline. Yoga. Reflection. Opening up, even to the people that really, REALLY piss me off. All that nonsense. And if I can't do it for myself, I have to do it for the people around me. Poor Lisa has got her own shit to deal with right now, what with her injury, and has had to deal with a complete mess of a Boyfriend. Poor Love.
Oh, and the other major part of my self imposed "therapy"? Writing my whiny, self pitying thoughts on this Blog. Be afraid, be VERY afraid!
I love you all. I'm really sorry for the long absence, and I'll write again soon. Promise. Even if it's totally mundane. Which it almost certainly will be.
Take good care of yourselves xxxxx