The 13th Year... Unlucky and Lucky

Today, on August 22nd, I celebrate 13 years of life since my bone marrow transplant in 2012. On this day every year I think about my donor who gave me a second chance to live. I am forever filled with immense gratitude for her selfless act.

The number 13 is seen as lucky by some and unlucky by others. As I reflect on a string of health challenges which consumed me throughout the past year and a half, I have come to realize that my 13th year post-transplant was simultaneously unlucky and lucky.

Do not be alarmed! I am now nearly on the other side of these health struggles. For those of you who don’t know what I went through during the year of our wedding, I will fill you in on the order of events first. Then I will share my reflections and learnings. It has always been my experience in life that my greatest challenges have also been my greatest teachers.

(I apologize in advance, because there is no way to keep this brief. So, grab your coffee, and please stay a while! Or, just skip to my list of reflections at the bottom of this post.)

In March of 2024 I had COVID for the first time, and it knocked me down. In April I learned that my pericardial effusion (fluid in my heart) had returned (I had fluid in my heart years ago, as a result of the heart damage I experienced from chemo when I had Leukemia). I also began a hair loss journey in April 2024, from the trauma of having a high fever for several days during COVID. In June of 2024, I contracted Influenza A and shortly after experienced pain in my chest. Knowing that I had fluid in my heart, and out of an abundance of caution, I decided to go to the ER. This is when I was found to have also contracted Valley Fever (it’s an Arizona thing). In some cases, Valley Fever resolves without treatment, but in my case, it left a cavity (hole) in my lung which would need to possibly be surgically removed due to its location on the edge of my lung, but definitely it had to be treated with an anti-fungal (Fluconazole). Fluconazole is known to cause hair loss, so double whammy on my hair loss situation! Just what a bride-to-be wants to hear, right?! 

I underwent a bronchoscope in July 2024 with some recovery complications and intense pain which landed me in the ER once again. Loads of labs, scans, tests, doctor appointments, treatment plans, and some confusion ensued during the summer months of 2024.

Meanwhile the fluid in my heart continued to build, but the “watch and see” approach was still my doctor’s preferred treatment plan, as draining fluid from around the heart is risky and avoided when possible. “Your heart is not being impacted” is what I kept being told. To which I would say, “please keep in mind I am getting married in November!”

In early September 2024, I was no longer tolerating Fluconazole, which prompted a switch to a different anti-fungal (Posaconazole). It was now mid-September, our wedding was in less than two months….and my hair continued to fall out! In late September, I went for an echocardiogram and was told that the fluid had increased again and there were now pressures on my heart to be concerned about. The doctor on call (not my doctor) told me that I should go straight to the ER. Having been to the ER twice already in 2024, and not wanting to go back, I REFUSED (looking back it was very unlike me and I should have followed doctor’s orders)! I consulted with MY doctor the next day, and based on the fact that I wasn’t having any symptoms, she validated my decision to not go to the ER.

My doctor wanted to schedule another follow-up echocardiogram on October 22nd so that IF I was in need of the pericardiocentesis procedure (to drain the fluid in my pericardium) there would be time for that before our wedding on November 10th. Due to a scheduling glitch, this appointment never got scheduled! “Ooops, we will do it in November”, said my doctor. So, on November 7th, just three days before our wedding, I was having an echocardiogram to check on the status of the fluid in my heart. This was both a recipe for disaster and a saving grace!

At that echocardiogram appointment I was found to be in a state of emergency and needed to have the pericardiocentesis as soon as possible. My heart’s ability to pump was now being impacted from the pressure of the fluid in my pericardium. My doctor said, "maybe we can do the procedure tomorrow, on November 8th. It is a one-night stay at the hospital, and you’d be out the following day in time for your wedding." Well, the following day was our wedding rehearsal at 11:00 AM, and I knew from having this procedure before, that you are not discharged from the hospital until 5:00 PM the next day. I was NOT about to be absent from my own wedding rehearsal, so I elected to postpone the procedure until after the wedding!

I had remained calm up to this point, but being three days out from our wedding and needing an emergency procedure, I felt slightly defeated. Do I cancel the wedding? Do I cancel the mini honeymoon that was planned for afterward? My goodness, what unbelievable timing! Meanwhile my hair was still falling out and people were due to arrive in town the following day on November 8th for our November 10th wedding. I just couldn’t bring myself to cancel! (Keep in mind that during all of these months of health events I was just trying to plan our wedding…while also working a VERY full-time job!)

I took my chances and proceeded with the wedding and our mini honeymoon to Santa Barbara. On our wedding day I was a bride in need of an “emergency” heart procedure, I sported a hair topper to hide my hair loss situation, and I had lost a lot of weight due to the Posaconazole (the second anti-fungal med), and there was nothing I could do about that. I made it through the wedding day and we were on our way to Santa Barbara for our mini honeymoon (against my doctor’s and my family’s wishes), with the pericardiocentesis procedure scheduled for as soon as we returned. My doctor insisted on doing a telehealth call DURING our honeymoon to make sure I wasn’t having symptoms, and to make sure I had chosen a hospital in that area in case I needed one. Looking back, I was really taking my chances! 

To make a long story short (haha), in mid-November a half liter of fluid was drained from my heart. A week later the fluid was found to have returned, which earned me a seat in the cardio-thoracic surgeon’s office. My team of doctors decided that I should have a pericardial window surgery where they would cut a hole in my pericardium in order to re-route the excess fluid in my heart to my abdomen. This would allow me to not constantly be tracking the status of the chronic and recurrent fluid. I went as far as being scheduled for my pre-op, and went in to have labs in preparation for the surgery and then my doctor discovered that my problem was actually the inflammation in my pericardium (called pericarditis) which she believed was causing the fluid build-up. She decided against the surgery at the last minute because she thought the surgery would cause more inflammation, and then there would be a greater amount of fluid, and I would be worse off after the surgery. PHEW! It was then decided that I needed to be put on steroids (Prednisone) to try to treat the inflammation, with hope that the decreased inflammation would also decrease the amount of fluid. Ok, let's try it! It was now December 2024, and my falling out hair finally began to slow. However, in January of 2025 it started to fall out again due to the prednisone dose I was on. So, that's a triple whammy on the hair loss!

I was on a very slow tapering dose of Prednisone….until I wasn’t, because in late Feb/early March the Prednisone was no longer working. I was having pain from the inflammation in my pericardium every time I tried to taper the Prednisone. At this point my doctor decided I was a candidate for Arcalyst…a weekly self-administered shot which helps to curb pericarditis (inflammation in the pericardium). It took a while for me to begin this treatment, and I still had several weeks of tapering the Prednisone even though I had begun the Arcalyst shots. Eventually, I went off of prednisone completely as well as all other meds I had been on, except for Arcalyst, which I will remain on for one year. My Valley Fever was eventually resolved, and I did not end up needing to have a surgery to remove the cavity in my lung, as it had closed up. My hair began to sprout sometime in late April/early May after losing about 75% of my hair and after it had been falling out for a full year!

Today, I am doing pretty well…except for some pitting edema I experience on a regular basis in my left foot and ankle. The Arcalyst shots seem to be doing their job to curb the inflammation in my pericardium. I am on the brink of about 10 follow-up appointments at the Mayo Clinic, so we will know soon exactly where I stand.

That’s my 13th year post-transplant health story (in a nutshell, haha). Now for my reflections:

1. My health challenges kept me grounded at a time when it would have been really easy to be hyper focused on planning a “perfect” wedding. My over-achieving perfectionist tendencies had to succumb to my focus on fighting through my health battles. Yet, at the same time, the wedding planning process also served as the best reprieve from my health challenged life.

2. Sometimes what we dream of and envision for ourselves is not actually achievable, due to no fault of our own. We have to accept what is and find contentment in our alternative existence, whatever it may look like.

3. In tough times it is important to lean on those who support us most. I am grateful for the many people who became my support system through all of this. Thank you to my family, my husband’s family, my work family, my doctors, and my friends. It was A LOT, and you supported me in all the many different ways that I needed support. To quote the mother of Mr. Rogers (from Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood), who would tell him to "always look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping", when he was a young boy and would see scary things in the news..... I had so many "helpers", figuratively speaking, to get me through this time.

4. I was once again reminded of how fragile and precious this life is. I came out of all of this with a renewed joy for the little things, a stronger desire to stay positive and to keep laughing, a reminder to cherish time spent with those I love most in this life, a renewed passion for the things that bring me the greatest joy, and a reminder of how so many of us are fighting a battle others know nothing about. Give one another grace. And of course, I was reminded that having good health is the best kind of wealth!

5. There is more to life than our daily grind. It is important to take time out, feed our souls, and fuel our passions. We don't know what tomorrow brings.

6. Adaptability, resiliency, persistence, the ability to remain calm, and keeping a sense of humor are still my superpowers!

7. Always be an advocate for your own health. You know your own body better than your doctors. If something doesn’t feel right, it’s probably not! SPEAK UP!

8. ONE DAY AT A TIME is still my mantra for my life…(since 2012 when I was battling Leukemia). It applies to my health, my work, and my approach to living life in general.

9. Hair growth shampoos and conditioners don’t really work! Save your money! ;)

10. The best reflection from year 13…I am so grateful to be married to my kind-hearted, hard-working husband. He always encourages me, cares for me, and loves me despite my many health challenges. We celebrated with a wedding that was perfect FOR US, and it’s a miracle that it was even pulled off! Year one of marriage has been a little rough managing my health like a full-time job, but it has also been so beautiful. Our favorite place is still wherever our favorite people are, as we build memories and cherish moments. I am lucky because I get to live this life and it is an honor to now share this life with my husband.

Now, on to year 14 adventures…

The Significance of 7:55 PM

I wrote the following essay in college. If I remember correctly, I believe the assignment was to write an inspiring article that would express the value of the arts in people's lives. Being an arts lover, this was not a very hard assignment for me at the time. I recently came across what I wrote! Please read to the end (even though it gets a little gushy), and then PLEASE read what I have to say following my essay!

What is significant about the time 7:55 PM; particularly on a Friday or Saturday night? You can bet that somewhere in America, 7:55 PM means that a curtain is about to rise. At 7:55 audience members are anxiously awaiting a performance that begins at 8:00. They have found a place to park, meandered around the elegant lobby, visited the crowded restroom, stopped by the merchandise table, taken note of the prices at the concession stand, and picked up their playbill. When they are ushered into the theatre, a quiet stage with a closed curtain greets them. In five minutes that curtain will rise, and the audience members will find themselves captivated by the world of the performing arts. For audiences, 7:55 PM is the moment when an entire performance lies before them. Anything can happen.

As an avid supporter of the art of ballet, 7:55 PM triggers numerous memories of ballet performances throughout my life. One of the most vivid 7:55 moments I can remember is one that took place at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center in Saratoga Springs, New York. During the summer months the New York City Ballet performs in the large, acoustically ideal amphitheatre, set in the heart of Spa State Park. At 7:55 PM, just when the sky begins to get dark, the amphitheatre fills with people. The summer air surrounds the audience as they gather for a performance that includes live orchestration and the dancers of the New York City Ballet. It is a unique atmosphere that feels more intimate than the traditional theatre setting, and therefore elicits more excitement and appreciation from the audience. In the amphitheatre at 7:55 PM, nothing matters except for the stage and the people sitting in front of it.

On a particular night at 8:00, the New York City Ballet Orchestra conductor took his place in the orchestra pit. The audience immediately applauded as they gave their full attention and utmost respect to the members of the orchestra. A sudden quiet filled the amphitheatre and seconds later the haunting but beautiful music of Tchaikovsky was the only sound heard. The curtain opened to rows of ballet dancers in long, flowing blue dresses, their right arms extended upward as if they were all paying homage to the great one, Mr. George Balanchine, the man who choreographed the piece they were about to perform.

The ballet "Serenade", set to Tchaikovsky's "Serenade for Strings", was performed that summer night without lavish sets or fancy costumes. Every dancer looked the same as the dancer standing next to her. It was not a ballet with a plot and characters that told a story. It was a ballet with intricate choreography where each segment of the piece built on the segment before. "Serenade" culminated in a moment that left the audience members afraid to blink for fear that they would miss something. As the night air blew through the amphitheatre a group of male dancers lifted a female dancer so that she was standing in mid-air with her upper body bent backward. The audience's intense concentration could be felt throughout the amphitheatre as could the concentration of the dancers on the stage.

Moments like that are what audiences hope for when they go to a theatre. As the audience became completely engrossed in the beauty of "Serenade's" ending a moth fluttered around the dancers on stage as if it had been worked into the choreography of "Serenade". Perhaps the moth was a reminder to the audience that the performance was their escape from their lives and the world around them. "Serenade", in its beauty and simplicity, had captivated the audience in the time it existed on stage. At the end of the piece a loud and long ovation was given as people came to the realization that the ballet had ended.

That performance took the audience to a place that only consisted of music, dancing, and the artists who were making it possible for them to experience something so beautiful. As choreographer Twyla Tharp said, "art is the only way to run away without leaving home." Perhaps the performance of "Serenade" is a good example of what she was referring to. Although the audience had to leave their homes to go to the amphitheatre, they experienced a work of art that made them forget everything else that mattered in the world. "Serenade" was a journey in and of itself where the audience members were able to submerse their minds, hearts, and souls into its beauty and its mastery of the collaboration of music and dance.

If you have never been to a live performance I invite you to try this edifying experience. Take note of the rush of excitement that fills your body at 7:55 PM when you are looking at the closed curtain. Whether you attend an opera, a play, a symphony, or a ballet, you can bet that there will be at least one moment where you find yourself completely awestruck by the performance. 7:55 PM on a Friday or Saturday night is an experience that no one should be without.

This past summer I went back to Saratoga to see the New York City Ballet perform. I happened to be able to see "Serenade" again! It saddened me to see how small the audience was, compared to several years ago when I had last seen it. Times are tough in the arts right now. Many arts organizations have come face to face with the reality of budget cuts, staff reductions, unpaid artists, overwhelming deficits, and basically any other words or actions which indicate something of a "lesser value". I have followed developments with the Louisville Orchestra and their "suicidal" move to no longer employ any musicians as of June 1st. Also, the state of Kansas' elimination of the arts in their state budget. I worry that these actions will be trend-setting, and will fuel a "survival of the fittest" epidemic throughout the arts industry, leaving only the large nationally recognized arts organizations in the largest cities of America standing strong.

With less and less funding for the arts, it is almost as if society is sending out a message that the arts don't really matter. They're not necessary for our survival. We will survive without arts programs in our communities. While I agree that there are bigger concerns and larger issues that we need to take care of, I can't help but to go out on a limb to think about all that I have seen firsthand what the arts can do for people.

If I had to write an inspirational article for a college assignment today, I think it would be very different from what I wrote above. Not that I don't agree with what I wrote in that article, I just have so much more to say from my experience in working in the arts over the last several years. I will write THAT article in another blog post some day. For now, I can only say that I have convinced and inspired MYSELF to recognize the value of the arts in people's lives.

Ten Cookies I Took From Grama's Cookie Tins

Lots of grandmas have cookie jars...they fill them with cookies and offer them to their grandchildren when they come to visit. At MY grandma's house there are cookie tins filled with her cookies...the same ones all the time...chocolate chip, nut and raisin, chocolate drops, and orange cookies. She calls them "millhunk cookies" because she doesn't consider them to be pretty, decorative, or ornate. She always puts them in front of us reluctantly, as if she is embarrassed that they wouldn't be up for a Baker of the Year Award. These millhunk cookies are baked for her grandchildren and family with love, and when we come to visit, she shares them with us. They please the tastebuds and please the stomach, and no one really ever minds whether or not they please the eyes.
 
Although the millhunk cookies will always be a memory of my grandma's house, I'd like to think of those cookie tins filled with cookies as a representation of MY Grama Lou filled with love. The REAL cookies I have taken from Grama's cookie tins cannot be tasted, and certainly can't be seen. The "cookies" I speak of are the lessons I have learned from her example. Grama Lou always points out how ordinary her life is. She is a homebody who enjoys knitting and quilting. Ordinary or not, some of the best lessons I have learned in life have been from my Grama Lou's example.
 
Below I will share only "Ten Cookies I Took From Grama's Cookie Tins". I think it's probably safe to say that ALL of her grandchildren have tasted these "cookies" and maybe even other "cookies" too!
 
1. To love unconditionally. Grama Lou loves her family with all her heart, regardless of people's mistakes, inadequacies, etc. She takes genuine interest in each person's interests, hobbies, and life. She is there when we need her, lending her support and advice, but never trying to control anyone's life. She is accepting of our differences and loves us all the same! We are greeted with open arms and a HUGE hug every time we see her.
 
2. To find your passion, dedicate yourself to it, and use it to do good works. Grama Lou is a knitter and a quilter. She has made quilts (more than one) for ALL of her grandchildren and other members of our extended family, and even friends of family members. She makes quilts for sick children in hospitals, and she makes quilts for the homeless. She knits baby booties for a non-profit charity, called Gifts for the Unborn, that she and her brother run together. To date, Grama Lou has knitted THOUSANDS of booties for this charity.
 
3. To laugh your way through life. Grama Lou laughs at everything! Even when something serious arises, she has a way of laughing about it and looking at the bright side. She laughs so hard that she brings herself to tears, and this in and of itself causes others around her to join her in her laughing fits. She has the ability to laugh at herself, and she allows us to laugh at/with her, too. Visits with Grama Lou are guaranteed to include many hours of laughter.
 
4. To hold a certain level of dignity and grace in your day to day life. Grama Lou is a lady. She doesn't like to go out without lipstick. She makes sure her shoes match her purse. She likes her nails to be properly polished, and she doesn't leave the house without running a comb through her hair. She is well spoken, polite, and very tactful. Yet, there is nothing aloof or uppity about her.
 
5. To be strong in YOUR faith. Grama Lou is very strong in her own faith. It seems as though she has prayed a 54 day novena for everyone in the family at some point in her life. The example here is not so much a matter of WHAT faith to choose, but a matter of being strong in whatever your faith may be.
 
6. To do your best and to do what's right in all your roles of life. Grama Lou is a wonderful daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, aunt, great-aunt, cousin, friend, citizen, and PERSON! She cannot break a rule. She is honest and open, and always makes good choices.
 
7. To lend a helping hand when you are able to. Grama Lou has helped her children and grand-children financially whenever she is willing and able and whenever it is really needed. Her helping hand is generous and sincere, with no expectations for receiving something in return.
 
8. To share stories of your life with others. Grama Lou is full of stories from her life. As her family members, we often have heard the same stories several times....classic Grama Lou stories! She has stories that are happy, depressing, ironic, unbelievable, funny, heartfelt, and more. Whenever we visit Grama Lou she wants to hear our stories too. We can't think of Grama Lou without hearing her say "Do you have any stories? Tell me your stories".
 
9. To carry on family traditions and traditions in general. Grama Lou carries on family traditions as much as possible. Holidays are filled with the same meals and same activities from year to year. She has shared stories of past relatives and their holiday traditions to keep the memories of their lives known in the family. It is important to know family history, who we are, and who we come from. Family traditions are something to cherish.
 
10. To enjoy the fun times of life, because they're few and far between. Most of life is the nitty gritty. Grama Lou speaks this phrase every time we are about to part from a fun-filled visit. She perhaps was not the first one to speak this phrase, but she has adopted it as her own and used it several times over. There is so much truth to it, and it crosses my mind whenever I am in the midst of a highlight in my life, that only lasts for so long. She reminds us to enjoy those moments that we are looking forward to most, because the reality is that those moments only take place once in a while.
 
These are lessons I will take with me throughout my life. They are lessons learned from my Grama Lou's example. Although I am guilty of taking numerous cookies from her cookie tins, I am more guilty of trying to live out the lessons I have taken from Grama Lou's example. THIS WEDNESDAY, April 20th is her birthday, and I am writing this to celebrate who she is. She is the matriarch of our family, and she has taught us so many things about life through her own.
 
HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRAMA LOU! You always say you get to share your birthday with Hitler! It's a big shame that the whole world is aware of his terrible example, and only a lucky few people are familiar with your amazing example of the human spirit.
 
THANK YOU for all the cookies! :)

Eulogy Worthy

This blog entry was written in April, and was never posted. With the recent earthquake in Haiti, I find this post to be an even more invaluable lesson now, than it was at the time I began this entry. It is kind of weird how it worked like this! Enjoy!

Several weeks ago (keep in mind-April), I turned on NBC's Today Show, as I was piddling around my house, getting ready to leave for work. I expected to be updated on the hottest trends of the season, or the latest method of shedding some pounds. I was waiting to meet the author of the most recent best-seller book, or to hear a song from someone's newly released album. Perhaps all of those things were fragments of that particular show, but I couldn't say, if they were. What drew my attention was a story about Augie Nieto, founder of Life Fitness, who was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease (ALS) in 2005. To be honest, I had never heard of him before that day, but the powerful five minute documentary that took me through his battle with his disease, and his current outlook on life really grabbed me. As I watched the segment, thoughts started racing through my mind. First and foremost, was the thought of "why do bad things happen to good people?", and then, "how tragic is it that the founder of Life Fitness develops a disease that confines him to a wheelchair without the ability to move, or even talk? I started to feel pity for him and his beautiful young family (Augie was 46 yrs old when diagnosed with ALS). In the midst of these thoughts, however, I was taken aback by some melodic words from Augie. Words that weren't done any justice, as they were communicated through the monotone computer-generated voice of the system connected to his wheelchair. Those words were as follows:

"I've never been happier in my life. When your family and friends think you are at the end of your life they say things that are normally reserved for your eulogy. When you hear those remarks, it makes you feel proud of the impact you have had on your family and your friends and the people you have worked with."

I may be reading between the lines to a certain extent as I explain my thoughts on Augie's statement, but what Augie said really resonated in my mind (so much so that I have turned it into a blog entry). I think underneath every part of his statement there is a hidden message for all of us to learn from. Beginning with "I have never been happier in my life." Now, I don't TRULY buy that Augie has NEVER been happier in his life. I'm going to venture to say that this guy has had plenty of happier times. The "happiness" I believe he was speaking of, was a happiness that resulted from the satisfaction of KNOWING what his life meant to those who were closest to him. He felt lucky enough to have the opportunity to hear for himself, the kinds of things that others might hear in his eulogy.

My question is, why do we wait until we feel that someone is approaching death to let that person know the impact they have made on the lives of others? In many cases, we wait until they have already died. It seems as though Augie was pointing out just how uncommon it is for someone to be the recipient of such remarks. Why has it become common practice for us to reserve such remarks for people's eulogies? What is wrong with saying these things when people are still alive and well? I know for a fact that it is very easy for people to point out the way in which they believe someone is NEGATIVELY influencing their lives, for this seems to be a common every day occurrence. But how many times do people let people know the significance of their life's impact on others?

Back in April I probably had intentions of writing more specifically about Augie Nieto. However, in revisiting this unfinished post I now find Augie's words playing in my mind like a tormenting score for a horror movie. In seeing images (on the Today Show!) of the Haitian people suffering I am reminded how important it is for us to let others know how they have impacted our lives (positively) BEFORE they're approaching death. The people who surround us today, may be gone tomorrow. They could be taken from us in such a way that prohibits any form of eulogy, like the hundreds of thousands (and counting) of people who lost their lives in Haiti's horrific earthquake. Let us remember the words of Augie Nieto as we surround ourselves daily with the people who have made a difference in our lives.

To follow the mind or follow the heart?

Do we ever make decisions that solely rely on the inner thoughts of our mind, or that solely follow the inner feelings of our hearts? Or does every decision we make entail a bit of input from both? Our hearts and our minds can either be in sync with one another, or they can be marching to the beat of their own drums. Big decisions always seem to stir up in me a confrontation between my mind and my heart. It is somewhat comparable to old school cartoons, when the antagonist plots against the protagonist with a devil perched on one shoulder and an angel floating on the other. However, it would be closed minded of me to draw any type of analogy between a devil and an angel to my heart and to my mind. Depending on the decision at stake, sometimes the mind is good and the heart is evil, and sometimes the heart is good and the mind is evil. One thing I have noticed though, is that it is my mind that tends to prevail in such situations.

 

I often find that my mind and my heart contradict one another as if their equal and opposite forces are somehow keeping me in line. I suppose it is this phenomenon that has generally kept me on a straight and narrow path throughout my life. If I choose one over the other I am taking a risk, but if I continue to listen to both, I remain in some sort of safe and stagnant limbo. Is that how it is for everyone, or do most people favor one over the other? When your mind is clear on one thing but your heart feels another, which one are you supposed to choose? It seems as though those who choose their hearts are the more spontaneous, passionate types who end up getting themselves into sticky situations that make for a lot of trouble later on. And yet those who choose their minds are practical and sensible, but lack a certain sense of adventure and an exploration of the unknown. 

Why do I struggle with knowing which one to follow? And why are they always contradicting each other so greatly? One gets in the way of the other, often leaving me in a state of confusion.  

Two Silent Angels

When it comes to dreams (the kind we have while we're asleep), I'd say that mine are slightly homogenous. Most of my dreams could be classified into one of two categories. There are the recurring frustration dreams, and there are the dreams that randomly compile the people, places, and things of my past, present, and even future, into an utterly nonsensical plot. I suppose I could write quite a lengthy (as they're typically lengthy) blog entry on my personal dream theories, as well as dream theories at large. However, that will not be the focus of THIS particular blog entry (perhaps a future one?). Instead, I feel inclined to share a meaningful stream of thoughts incurred by my most recent "compilation" dream. The absurd and hysterical events of the dream itself, aren't necessarily worth knowing, for one to understand what I am about to go "out on a limb" to share. Rather, it is the appearance of an influential person from my past, in the form of a dream, that one should note.

Included in my dream was someone who I felt very close to before he passed away in August of 2006. He was a teacher at BYB, knowledgeable and passionate about his art, and, without a doubt, one of the quirkiest and wittiest people I've ever met (being quirky and witty are positive attributes in my opinion). He cherished the subtleties of life, and took interest in the underdogs that crossed his path. His dedication to his students and to his work was (and still is) unmatchable. His humble nature never indicated the remarkable feats of his career, both as a dancer and as a teacher. I truly believe that he knew the end of his life was drawing near (although he never told anyone of his failing health until a week before he passed away). In the last few months of his life I became the recipient of stories that he seemed eager to tell. He often talked to me about leaving a legacy, in a somewhat generic sense. In hindsight, I now realize that the stories he told me WERE his legacy (if only I knew that at the time, maybe I would have written down everything he said). Sometimes I questioned why I was the one chosen for his long sessions of reminiscing. He told me it was because I was receptive.

My receptiveness was tested much in the same way not too long after he passed away. I became friends with someone else, who, to make a LONG story short, also took a genuine interest in BYB. Although his attachment to BYB was from a more external perspective, his soft heart, love for children, and his deep appreciation for all that was aesthetically pleasing, landed his name on the list of BYB's biggest supporters (both morally and financially). A lonely man with a dark and depressing past, caught up in his own current toils and troubles, he and I would occasionally meet for coffee. The topics of our conversations were usually related to psychology, religion, philosophy, politics, and dreams (the kind we have while we're asleep). Besides being the most well read and deep thinking person I've met, he was also well versed in dream interpretation. We spent a lot of time sharing dreams with one another, and figuring out the meaning of what we dreamt. Perhaps he would know the meaning of the dream I spoke about earlier in this blog entry...but in July of 2008 he also passed away.

I consider both of these people "angels" of BYB. They never knew one another, but the similarities between the two of them were quite remarkable. In fact, I have found myself wondering if maybe one was a continuation of the other. Both truly had great minds, kind hearts, and similarly peculiar mannerisms (which I'd be the first to pick up on). Both of these people were extremely emotional and were not afraid to express what they felt. They each came with their own set of vices. For some reason, both of them chose to confide in me.....and then died not too long after that (YIKES!). I think of them often, but in different situations.

I think of one when I am caught up in a BYB moment that I know he would have been caught up in himself, because he was there day in and day out. As BYB grows and changes, those moments become increasingly internalized for me, as there are only a handful of people remaining at BYB who experienced him enough to actually share with me in one of those moments. His name appears on the wall in two places, in a building he never knew about (BYB relocated after he passed away). People he never met walk by his name each day without realizing the significance of his BYB tenure. 

I think of the other one when I look at BYB from an outsider's point of view. When I assess the state of BYB by looking at the big picture, I imagine the positive and encouraging things he might say. I also think about him when I feel like sitting down with a cup of coffee to discuss my latest dreams...and that brings me full circle to the point of this blog entry (finally!). Even though the two "angels" I speak of were not connected to one another during their lives, they are now merged together as two of the pillars supporting those who frequent BYB. They are BYB's silent "angels", as their names and faces are unknown (to some, not all).

Honored to have known them both to the degree to which I knew them, I suppose I experience a different kind of silence than those who never met them at all. For me, it is not so much of a silence due to their anonymity. Rather, it is a silence resulting from the void they left in my life. Their physical presence is a thing of the past, but I am reminded of them in certain moments in my life...definintely in my random, nonsensical, "compilation" dreams!

Big Fish or Small Fish?

There is nothing like being in a theatre where EVERY seat is full! Over the weekend I attended Cincinnati Ballet's Peter Pan at The Aronoff Center. It did my heart good to see that in these tough economic times, a theatre could still be filled, even for a ballet! Although audience members were not exposed to a classic, or even a showcase of contemporary cutting-edge choreographic works, the massive crowd of people who were gathered together for ballet's sake was a refreshing sight. The fusion of comedic acting, highly "entertaining" ballet technique, and modern-day theatre tricks indicated the performance's focus on children, but there were several instances in which I found myself with the common facial expression displayed by adults in Disney World. The face that emulates the look that children have when they are being completely "Disney-fied".......mouths gaping open, bright eyes, and total belief that what they are seeing is in fact real.

The music was composed by Cincinnati Ballet's Music Director, Carmon DeLeone, who was celebrating 40 years with the Cincinnati Ballet! Lush and engaging, the Pullitzer Prize-nominated score really appealed to me. The choreography of Septime Webre was clever, tricky and showy, giving the audience a small taste of the virtuosity that ballet dancers possess. I was equally amused by Cervilio Amador's (Peter Pan, and Cincinnati Ballet's "poster child") ability to do nine pirouettes, slow down on the last two turns, hold his position, and then perfectly land the turn....as I was by his ability to portray classical ballet in parody form (Les Ballets Trockadero style) during one scene. Brilliance on Septime Webre's part, and truly appreciated by all the "bunheads" in the audience!

I won't go any farther than that with the ballet jargon for those of you who are not ballet aficionados! But I will go "out on a limb" to share with you an internal struggle that was somewhat rekindled in me, as I watched a truly magnificent production of a professional ballet company. Upon graduating college with a B.A. in Arts Administration in 2006, I mulled over whether or not it would be better to be a big fish in a small pond or a small fish in a big pond, when it came to securing an administrative position for myself in the arts world. I suppose that during my schooling, I dreamt of an administrative position in a large professional ballet company in a big city (small fish in a big pond). However, before I got the chance to actually investigate that foremost debate in my mind, I had already been dubbed a big fish in a small pond at Bluegrass Youth Ballet in Lexington, KY. Day in and day out, I love my job! It is fulfilling, rewarding, challenging, exciting, and for lack of a better phrase, "totally my style". I feel that I get to be in my element every single day! I am privileged to be working in an organization from its beginnings (except, I missed the first year). I literally watch it grow along with the people it is comprised of, and there is nothing more gratifying.

However, when I attend a professional ballet performance I am always struck with awe and wonder...in awe of the size and scope of the inner workings of the company, as well as the magnitude of their performance...wondering what it would be like to work in the larger realm of the ballet world. Sometimes I worry that even though I am getting a lot of administrative experience at my current job, it is quite different from the experience I would be getting if I were working for a professional company. I feel as though I am losing time, IF I seriously want to be a small fish in a big pond some day!

I know that no one is stopping me from a job change....except MYSELF. But I am just NOT ready to part with my job anytime soon. Although Bluegrass Youth Ballet is much smaller than any professional company, sometimes I feel that the dreams and goals we have are much bigger! The idea that I am half (perhaps the lesser half, the other half is our Director!) of the forefront of an organization that I believe is headed for a bright future excites me! I truly believe in the mission of our organization (quite different from that of a professional company), and I want to be a major influence in its fruition.

This big fish/small fish struggle has been "swimming" around in my mind since I graduated college. However, the more I plug away at my job, the more the struggle fades. I suppose I am becoming extremely content with what I am doing. Not content in a stagnant sense, but content in a peaceful sense, knowing that I am where I want to be at this point in time.....despite temptations like Cincinnati Ballet's Peter Pan.