It’s confession time yet again… I’ve heard many stories about post-dissertation blues. Many of my post-dissertation friends have regaled me with tales of depression, anxiety, and a feeling of being lost and inexplicably sad. This sounded completely absurd, after all finishing the dissertation and graduating has been a long sought and hard-fought for goal. It’s EPIC! It’s supposed to be standing at the peak of Mt. Everest, Rocky Balboa on the top of the stairs, a perfect, clean triple pirouette that EVERYONE saw especially the teacher! How could one possibly even think about being sad after a doctoral graduation, no one can be sad who has a fancy puffy hat with a gold tassel!?!?!

I’ve been sad. And lost. And lonely. And anxious. And oddly depressed. I’ve been deep in classic post-dissertation blues. How could this be? And how do I make it stop? Over the past three months, I’ve tried herbal remedies, teas, massage, acupuncture, meditation; I tried cutting out caffeine, meat, dairy… that only made me sadder if truth be told. And what I’m about to say may shock you but not as much as it shocked me… even ballet class seemed long, empty, and woefully sad. I talk to PhD friends everyday – some who are finished and some who are still dissertating and I feel less alone in this weird, fuzzy place. I talk to CarBoy because he has been right there through it all. And now I’m sharing it with you because as I begin to come out of this blues-soaked funk, I start to realize that sometimes we as human beings go through some sort of trauma – sometimes it’s really well disguised trauma – and we don’t recognize the need for recovery. When I injured my foot, down time was important. Recovery required me to be patient and kind to myself. Recovery required enough wisdom to know when to work and to know when to rest; the balance between the two being paramount if I had any hope of returning to dance.

And now I continue to recover from this long arduous journey that I’ve been on. I take time to be kind to myself, patient with myself, and to acknowledge what I’ve gone through to get here. I continue to be as generous as I can with rest and healthy choices. There were times when I so doubted myself for having lost my enthusiasm and my optimism and my willingness, no, my great love for work. And now I realize that I just need to recover. I have not lost my love for ballet, my mental strength, nor my joy in sweating through a challenging class. I still love it and I always will. I’ve just been tired. And as much as it would be super cool to have a magic lasso and super power bracelets, I am not wonder woman. I’m just me. Well, now I’m Dr. Me and that’s pretty cool too.

It took me three years to write a beautiful and powerful dissertation that represents who I am and is a work to which I have proudly affixed my name and reputation. So it might take me a while to find myself again and right myself. I was really starting to worry until I started to feel that bright and lovely flow of energy, that impulse born of the music that moves your spirit and then your body. It had seemed like dancing hadn’t helped and that it might be slipping away. But it isn’t gone, I have not been abandoned. It’s still there, it just needs a little time and a little extra care. Whatever we go through, even when dancing doesn’t seem to help and we might even consider giving up, don’t walk away from yourself and dance. Sometimes the dancer just needs to rest and recover. Sometimes we shouldn’t push through, sometimes we should pause. I had forgotten all about the 109th bead, selah, reverence – the pause of gratitude, grace, acknowledgement, silence, and rest. When we are healed and ready to return, the studio will be waiting, barres at the ready and we can once again dance.

See you in class.

I was reading through some twitter posts the other day, opening up links to articles about various people who dance – not professional dancers but dancers who have various kinds of illnesses, who are in wheelchairs, or are just really old. And when I say old, dear youngsters, I don’t mean 30 or 40, I mean 80 or 90, just to be clear. It was really inspiring and humbling. I sat there looking at photos thinking about how beautiful it is when human beings enjoy the freedom of dance. And then I realized that when I look at photos or videos of myself dancing, I judge myself on something entirely different – not how much I love dancing, how hard I work, or my passion for dance. I judge myself on how I look and not if my line is nice, my feet are pointed, and my arms are pretty, but my weight and my body shape. I came to realize that part of my lack of motivation right now is my own ridiculous self judgement. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve allowed my feelings about how I look dancing to override how I feel when I am dancing! I also admit that it is going to be an ongoing struggle to learn how to better deal with that because when it comes to ruthless self judgement, I am the Queen. It is hard not to be critical in a room full of mirrors but work on it I shall because loathing self judgement is not a good thing in any respect. And I want to get back into the studio and feel the joy of the music and the movement. Dancing should be about joy – and sweat and discipline and work but mostly joy – but definitely not about size.

~Let’s dance.