It's so cliche to quote Robert Frost. Really. Ever since I learnt that simple 4 line stanza poem in high school, it has always haunted the edges of my literary memory, to be thrown out at what seems like opportune times to bemoan the fact that things are not going my way and that I have to write down my sob stories.
I wrote in the Moleskine the other night, saying, "This post is supposed to be about regrets." It is supposed to be about all the missed chances and strokes of luck that I have been brushing off and ignoring and how hindsight is a wonderful thing that I can look back on and inspect with a magnifying glass all the stuff I missed out on because I played it safe.
This is not one of those posts.
Oh hell, no. It ain't at all.
This post is about the road that I took. Ole' Rob starts off his bit of poetry with,
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both,
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Good old poetry/literature will never voluntarily tell you that a road is a road. It will tell you that it is a choice, a means of tavel, a silken whisper, a dark bridge to the unknown. To describe it as a tar-sealed concrete path is just boring, no?
People who have possibly read me in the past would know that I have always been fascinated by dancing and I enjoy it to the fullest. Dancing thrives in my veins like oxygen in my lungs. The sore aches that assemble themselves overnight from an evening of dancing is nothing comparable to half marathon aches. Even something as "light" as ballroom sets the calves on fire and I feel that my shoulders have been dislocated the next morning. Or maybe I'm just really unfit. Who knows, eh? One of my biggest dreams was to start a dance studio, complete with dance classes, etc. I'd be teaching every night or every other night and every night was a party in and of itself. The ceiling itself opened up to the heavens and on clear nights, the stars would sparkle and the moon would shine and I would open it up so everyone could dance in the moonlight whilst "Dancing in the Moonlight" played over the speakers. What a dream.
But I always held back. I'd like to fault the Higher Authorities who always told me to focus on something more solid and more firm, and that education is the way to go and I should be focusing on my career. But I think its as much my fault as theirs. I never bothered to do more than just b*tch about it. Never tried to focus on taking up a teacher's training course, never bothered researching into how much capital I would have to sink into making this dance thing a reality. Just whining. All I did. Maybe if I did show them how serious I was about it, they would have supported me. But never mind.
I've been living in Merlion City for the last two years. I thought that I was only going to be here for 2 years. This is rapidly approaching the 6 month mark of my 3rd year here in S'pore. How time flies. Really, it does. And every time I got ready to pack up and leave, something comes up my way. It faintly reminds me of when I was in Wangas. Dance happened for me. I stayed and stayed and stayed. I thought that I would be there for a while. And it was a complete paradigm shift that allowed me to move my arse, submit a resignation letter and then find myself halfway across the world from where I pretty much called my life around me home.
It's probably deja vu. Goofy Girl sends me a WhatsApp message asking me if I want to teach ceroc in S'pore as she was looking to get it started. Had a call from a clinic offering me ridiculous amounts of money to do part time work. Had the interview but that fizzled out. Friend of mine hooked me up with an opportunity to supervise junior physios. That went through. I actually enjoyed myself going through notes, chatting to them, finding out what makes them click, recommending treatments and therapies, and then I get paid straight away for it. Awesome.
Getting registration in S'pore is a cinch. Paperwork is going through and I can show that I am maintaining my practice of my normal day to day skills that puts money on the table.
I signed up for beginner teacher's training. I think I passed it (still awaiting results since April.) Taught classes twice and got super excited about classes. Dancing is back on my mind. After the disappointment of 2011, my spirit crushed and wilted, I think I've found it again. I'm playing music in my head again, thinking how I would dance it, how I would do things differently and then realising that it is not worth it and I should allow myself to move to the beat naturally rather than plan it all out first.
It's been great. I'm starting to find that dancer's body sitting under a whole year of non-exercise. Slow and steady though. I've yet to start rockin' my previous 4 pack but let's hope that with regular activity, I can finally flaunt six. *wink*
At this stage, everyone probably thinks I'm just living the high life right now with everything going great around me. I wish I could agree to that statement but I can't quite say that just yet. There's still a few things that I'm hoping to fall into place before I agree that my life is awesome. My health and level of fitness is still a topic of contention and I'm still hoping that it will improve rather than stagnate and I'm left still in the same level of health that I was before. I'm still trying to find a source of excitement on a day to day basis but I dare say that I don't think I'm willing to go that far just yet.
G is getting used on a daily basis and I'm practising and hoping that I'll be able to get some pretty good shots in so this blog isn't all about words all the time.
So.
Yes.
This is the road I've taken.
And like Rob's poem, I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence. Because when Goofy Girl sent me that message and I replied with a big, enthusiastic "YES!", when my friend hooked me up with that supervisory role and I leapt at the chance, I took that road less travelled by, and by the grace of God, that has made all the difference.
