When A Dancer Stops Dancing… (My Personal Testimony pt.1)

The "only God could make that happen" update I spoke of in “Go Nowhere with Me” (waaaaaayyyy back in 01/2016) is finally here…

I've always believed that those in the art world are not easily separated from their profession. There's a reason we are so sensitive about our work...it is a sewn together extension of us, and only separation, a painful detachment, can remove the synonymity. What I create feels like a replica of myself presented to the world, and how good or bad it turns out seems to reflect how good or bad I am as well. So, what in fact happens when who I am, what I do, and Who I serve become severely separated?

I'll take you on my journey to answering that question...

Who You Are

Last summer, I made nineteen years in my dance career. On every forum that introduced me, it began with "dance came into her life as escapism from shyness...," and if you asked anyone who knew of me they would say "she is a dancer." That would be their first description, because that is how I introduced myself to the world. I pursued it, adored it, championed it early on, and believed it as my ultimate purpose from God. I was in love with it! I skipped lunch to be in the dance studio in junior high school and used every opportunity to talk about it in other classes. Yes, even wood shop. I was a totally different person on stage. I was fiery and captivating, free and secure. I possessed the highest level of self-esteem, and would give my all no matter the audience.

However, something shifted when I moved from grade school to college, and dance transitioned, like a foreign student, a foreign object, or a foreign language.

I no longer escaped anywhere euphoric when I performed or practiced. In fact, I was very much present and fully aware, and that grew a seed of insecurity in me. The dance my college was teaching was like nothing I had ever experienced before; it was calculated and methodical, and I believed that I was not good enough, strong enough, or educated enough for it. Now I was certain that God told me dance would be the focus of my life; it would be how I connected with people and how I glorified Him. If I couldn’t do it well, what was my worth then? So, I wanted to believe that I could do this, because 1) what in the world was I doing pursuing a dance degree if I was really inadequate and 2) what would I do with myself if I truly could not dance? Who would I be then? Unfortunately, this was my outlook of my self-worth, and the permanent injury I sustained the Spring semester of my freshmen year did not help with my insecurities. It was a hip limitation that I carried for the remainder of my college career, even until today. I worked with it but it fed my low self-esteem. Dance was now coated in insecurity and injury, and it didn't look like what I thought God had planned for me.

What You Do

In 2018, five years after graduating college, I was the praise dance leader at my church and instructor of contemporary modern dance in a studio, performing sporadically but avoiding the stage whenever possible. I had spent so much of my life solely focused on dance that it felt inescapable, and though I felt unworthy of being called a dancer, I didn't know who I was without it. I couldn't fathom a life not teaching it, creating it, talking about it, sharing it, using it, or performing it...but I no longer wanted it in my life at all.

Has that ever happened to you...you're in the thick of your life and you don't understand or like where it's going, but you cannot imagine getting off or "starting over" again? I wanted to stop dancing! Whatever I thought God had planned for me, I couldn't deliver on it. In however much dance was a blessing in my formative years, it had stolen much more in my adult ones. It had taken the place of God. My whole life was built on the desire for Him to give me a task: become a professional, Christian-based dancer and choreographer, and I NEEDED to succeed at that. I truly believed that He told me to pursue it at all cost and in doing so I found myself in a wilderness, wrestling with an angel, coming away with a humbling hip injury (Gen. 32:22-32). Was this it? Was this the culmination of my life: mediocrity and settling?

Couldn't be...So out of the blue, while still working in my church and the dance studio, I applied for graduate school thinking that I could reclaim and reignite my love for dance through this academic medium. "God just needs me to be more fearless and educated and technically-sound. I will do this for Him." I completed my first year of graduate school in early 2019 with stellar grades, subpar choreographic material, and below average technique. In my attempts to be enough I was self-sabotaging myself right back in the thicket of an internal wilderness. I had pressured myself into this place of perfection that I could not reach. No one outside really understands what's going on when you're in the wilderness. They just assume you're sad, discouraged, and need time to yourself. But when you've lost what you deemed to be your greatest connection to self and God...when you misinterpreted the voice of your Father...when you created a life for yourself and now you don't know who you are...when you fault God for not stepping in and correcting your mistake...that's no place to be in alone...there's not a light bright enough in that world to shine hope on you.

Who You Serve

May I be honest? I stopped believing in dance and I stopped believing in God at the same time, because I created an expectation of how they both were supposed to operate in my life and they “disappointed” me. So I claimed this world to be built solely on luck, misfortune, and hard work. Cynicism, anyone? There was no cosmic Creator advocating for, directing, or loving us. We were here alone and we either believed in a higher power to make ourselves feel good, or we submitted to living this life out as our own god and enjoying as much of the ride as possible. I became the latter, for almost a year that was my philosophy on life. No God who "loved" me would allow me to dance this long in the desert. He would not take me from escapism, to uncertainty, injury, aimlessness, lostness, and now defeat. Pursuing it to no end, receiving a degree in it only to avoid doing it, spending years living in other people's homes, having debt and being broken, producing subpar work and suffering emotional pain because of it. No! I reckoned that I had made Him up all along and my current lostness was a consequence of my cosmic imagination. I created this reality believing in some Great Best Friend.

Curl Check:

Have you ever felt this way, that you gave God your all and you were left empty and faithless? You're a boulder: stubborn and heavy, unmovable and rough around the edges. I mean, you just knew you were running after His desires. He had your heart, your body, your mind, your passion, your life...and He returned you nothing. Now you're bitter. It's a tough place to be in, it's a lie, but it feels TOO real. It feels absolutely impossible to stand. You cry everyday, you're irritable and trust no one, and your entire person changes.

Why It Matters

At this point I hope you've realized that this post isn't really about dancing...it's about faith. Artists are not the only ones super-sensitive and sewn together with their creations. God is as well. Just as an artist is not easily separated from their work, the Father is not easily separated from His children. When we get off track, moving without pause, the stretch away from Him is painful to both God and the believer. I know now that I never gave Him the opportunity to painlessly and safely treat me. I've realized that 1) my sprinting towards a calling without stopping for Living Water, 2) my applying a voice to God and blaming Him for not delivering on it, and 3) my unhealthy expectation of how my life would look were all being painfully severed from me. In those college years, I was going through a major surgery because I had chosen to believe a calling over my life, but failed to check in with God. All that time of lostness was God trying to stop me and correct my path, and because I had sewn myself together so tightly with this ideal, the separation was torturous. I had connected myself to a purpose not meant for me and as an artist I became synonymous with it. While I was vehemently running, God was attempting to cut my stitches loose, "Slow down, Listen to Me, this is not what I ever wanted for or from your life. Please stop running after it and let Me guide you toward your true calling."

I never put in another request for a second consultation with God AKA prayed and questioned Him for better guidance. Dance was a form of escapism and healing once in my life so it must be the basis of my life story, right? I ran farther and farther away from what God was truly asking of me because of my need to be an obedient daughter to what I thought He wanted, not Who I knew Him to be.

Curl check: Recognize your uncertainty and return back to God frequently for clarity. We must understand and accept that we are lacking in knowledge and forever need guidance. Know that you will always require new answers and reiterations from God to keep moving on the developing path of your life. Do not continue to run while confused.

The Answer

So in actuality, the title of this post is not really "When A Dancer Stops Dancing...," it is truly "When A Believer Stops Believing...," what happens then? What happens when you lose what you thought was your hope, faith, and firm foundation, and are completely exhausted with the life you created?

Well, some surprisingly beautiful things take place:

1. You realize that you had assigned a voice to God and now you are able to free Him from the box you established long ago.

2. You discover a truly radical life in Jesus and have a miraculous encounter that reveals the many things that lay dormant inside of you.

3. You find that you were approaching your desires incorrectly and forcing a round peg into a square hole.

4. You have the opportunity to repurpose your life which includes a more healthy relationship to your work.

5. You learn that you do not have to endure such painful surgery ever again if you practice regular visits with your Life Practitioner.

I want to take the time to break these five answers down and illustrate how a severed life leads to a beautiful one. So head over to the newest post, "...and A Curl Begins to Twirl" on February 7, 2020 for Part Two of this discussion.

Smile, Shine, and Love Curlfriends!

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I love you, Curls!