MODERN IFIGENIA

In looking up the proper terminology for the title of this post, I learned that "divorcees" are divorced women, not men, because apparently men are the divorcers. So there is really no gender neutral way of identifying people who have survived a divorce, or as Tammy Wynnette would say D-I-V-O-R-C-E. In the end it doesn't matter. I was inspired by a mirror to write this post. It sounds bizarre, but two and a half years ago my ex-husband moved out and I began to take dance lessons. There was a mirror in that dance room and I avoided seeing my reflection in it. I used it mostly to follow the footsteps of other dancers, but never to look at myself. About a year later another divorcee joined the group. We talked to each other quite a bit and I could clearly remember the very first time I saw myself in the mirror. We were talking as usual, I was sitting down and she was standing. I was facing the mirror straight on and she was perpendicular to the mirror. I remember noticin

I am a nerd. On the best of days, I probably spend 75% of my time sitting, researching, reading and writing.  I have come to accept this as part and parcel of my life. However, once upon a time I used to be a dancer. I was capable of many physical feats and was quite disappointed in myself when by my mid 30's it became clear I would never become a professional dancer...okay, disappointed is too harsh of a word because, well, I never did really work towards that goal. But hitting your 30's -that time period when one body part after another starts to fail, you realize that if you ever had any ambition to accomplish something that could only be done with the physical body, you must do it NOW-right before the next body part falls off. So there I was, with no husband, no stable job, no stable income. I made the most irrational decision to become a "professional" dancer by joining the  Pilobolus dance workshop in Connecticut. The decision made absolutely no sense. I wa

I came across this video today: Would you be happy with perfection? It reminded me of the reaction people in other countries have when they try to understand why I see myself as imperfect. There is usually the follow-up question from them as they try to understand my worldview "but if you were thinner, wouldn't that make you someone else?" or "...but aren't you the most perfect version of you?" Over the years, I have placed a lot of effort into tuning out negative messages about women's body images. But it takes a lot of work, I will often see really attractive women (by mainstream standards) and wonder why I couldn't look like them. Every time that thought comes into my mind I force myself to think: "Okay...would you want to spend 30 minutes on hair, 60 minutes on nails, 30 minutes on makeup, how ever long at the gym?" and then I remind myself that, I wouldn't, to look the way I do reflects that I made different time and financial

Sometimes I worry about making others happy. Sometimes I worry about pleasing too much. I think that you only arrive at the perfect balance when you have found your voice. I have often spoken about finding your voice, but I don't think I really knew what I was talking about until this year. I normally make really difficult decisions, but then live anxiety-ridden about the decision for months, possibly years, even when I know that there is no other decision I could arrive at given the information I had. My anxiety was really born out of not having much faith in myself. Someone once asked Dolly Parton if she had any regrets, she said she didn't have any because she always made the best decision she could at the time she made the decision. When she answered the question she was so sure about herself, not in an arrogant way, but in a confident way that the interviewer was taken aback. Now I know what she means, and understand how she felt. I have now arrived at that stage where I

This is one of my favorite paintings because it is so unexpected. It is not of my typical style or executed the way I would've have liked to see it executed. Instead, I love this picture because it reminds me that you never know what can be inspired by what. I did this painting after a trip to Vermont during the fall. I assumed I would have been inspired to paint organic images and shapes, but instead, I was inspired to paint primary colors in squares and triangles.

I could pretend to be cool and go on about the ridiculousness of the Facebook Lookback videos. Here is a fun example of these parodies: Facebook lookback parody If I am being honest, I have to admit to spending close to two hours watching these videos. Their sentimentality touches me. I knew it was too much when I almost cried at one of my friend's five years of dog photos. They are really a record of your most popular Facebook moments over the last few years. So they are not really about meaningfulness. But I like mine because it isn't about meaning. Most of my popular posts seemed to be about things I did that were out of the ordinary for me. Perhaps because I have been feeling as though I haven't done much with my life, seeing the last few years in summary made my accomplishments seem that much greater....they didn't take 7 years to achieve, they took one minute. I was able to see in one  minute just how many different things I have done. So even if they weren&#

I live in a midsized city along the Susquehanna River in Central, PA. My friends in the more urban regions of the country often ask me about why I stay in such a small place. Professionally I have accomplished quite a bit and I am a better match resume-wise for a larger city such as Washington, D.C. or Seattle, or New York. Some days I second-guess my decision to stay, professionally, there is not much room to grow. But then, all I have to do is leave my house, walk three blocks, and there it is! Serenity! The question is why would anyone not want to live here?

So here is the story of my blog. I started it several years ago, then I did nothing with it. I then started writing again...mostly about my divorce and I got tired of being "divorced", so I stopped writing again. Now I am back, ready to start writing about the lighthearted things I care about. The work I do can be relatively intense at times and I do want to do a better job at highlighting the things that bring joy into my life, or to vent if I am enraged. They are both great things that need to be tended to. Somehow work always finds a way to keep itself going, but joy and rage, often get repressed. I am putting a definitive end to that. So I will simply start by expressing gratitude towards all the people who have managed to make my life one worth living and for their willingness to walk along with me.