Reflections from the ground up.

I arrived in Melbourne with a fueled fire and the intention to set my last months in Australia ablaze, to bring catharsis to the cloud that has hovered for nearly the majority of my stay here. That damn cloud, punctuated in its altruistic sky has been extracting the darkness and precipitating light on my path all along.  A realization that my fickle cloud frienemy has actually been of service throughout my journey in Oz.

I knew the only way I'd be happy was to step further outside my comfort to bring my desires to fruition. I spent the past five months in Brisbane training my ass off at an all women's Circus school and advancing in my aerial practice which I was ready to make use of. For so long I had been putting my energy into everyone but myself. My self was calling, practically screaming to feel the freedom it once felt. And so with dedication I was ready to recommit to myself. Beyond the luster of how most perceive my 'travels,' the struggle has remained obscure. 

I've lived in a hostel for the past month, watching the numbers from my bank account deplete while in the process of pushing myself relentlessly to honor my passion.  While my 20 - something- year old hostel mates urged me to join them in the many events going on in the city, I retreated to the library most evenings where the wifi was strong and the ambiance quiet. I've spent sleepless hours writing emails, visiting studios, getting lost in unknown neighborhoods, auditioning, and small talking strangers. I found a warehouse space 45 minutes outside the city to train aerial silk, and by my third day in Melbourne I was taking the train there 5 days a week to keep my body in shape if an opportunity to perform was to arise. 
But after one month, I was left with little money, still no job, and the inconsistency and discomfort of hostel life began to weigh on me. It was the same story over again, yoga studios and everyone I spoke with didn't want to hire me because of my temporary visa. I was also competing with quite a saturated market.

I became stressed about my finances, questioning where all my efforts were leading me, if anywhere. I thought of throwing in the towel of my two year journey , contemplating going back to my my home city where an established life would grant me opportunity easily. But easy never appeases me. Reluctantly, I was also on the verge of applying for any job just to earn some money, although I knew I would be denying myself by doing this. And then my body retaliated from all the exhaustion.  I came down with a fever, body aches, and felt as though I was burning from the inside out. I know my body well, and anytime this happens I feel as though life is sending me a message, and then some sort of change typically takes place. In this moment, my body was pleading for me to give it a rest.

 
In the midst of a 102 fever and feeling pushed to my edge, the tragedy in France struck. I felt an accumulated ache for the images of innocent refugee children and families being burdened for their existence, for the savage madness begetting death not only in France, but across the globe chaos has been vitiating all over the world. 

And then my heart cracked. Like a roaring wave the realization of my purpose flowed out.  I felt an immense fervor to push on for those who cannot. The suffering of others has been my motivation to continue to push forth in my teaching, and my personal practice. I found society to be perpetuating the languid ideology that "our world is fucked," or ''there's no hope for humanity."  These futile beliefs will not serve us as individuals, or the greater good. Apathy will kill you.

Through helping others, my own suffering is alleviated, and the way I help is through my art, or my (heART) , as I like to say.  It's an irreplaceable feeling of bliss in my world. This bliss comes in the delivery of a simple "thank you, I feel great " from a student who appreciated my yoga class. This bliss is experienced in the surrendered weight of a students head in my hands as I make sure to administer a 20 second head massage to every single one of my students in sivasana.  A couple weeks ago when I was in the warehouse practicing,  a timid aboriginal woman who had been cleaning the space approached me, expressing how moved she was to watch me practice. And so I made her take off her shoes and urged her to let me teach her a few things. The laughter and smile of triumph that accompanied her self doubt when she mastered three climbs on the silk, let me tell you...the joy I felt in that moment illuminated the brightest rainbow over a very cold and grey Melbourne day. This bliss, is what keeps me going.

If we all start small and share any little ounce of light we have in even the tiniest of cracks, we will be contributing to a better existence. Through loving ourselves, as painful as it is to face the demons that come along with it, and withdrawing the knives we have pierced our regrets with. The wake of human destruction can be an opportune time for reconstruction of our approach to it all, or simply the 24 hours set out before you. It's a time of empathy and educating ourselves on one another, because the truth is that we are inseparable. I find myself reading articles fervidly, wanting to have a greater understanding of the root of all this hatred, and educating myself on my own country's history at war that I admittedly have turned a blind eye to in the past. I'm making effort to make peace with various aspects of my life, and to show unconditional love even if it may feel unwarranted or unreciprocated.

I know I'm starting to sound a bit Paulo Coelho-ish  now, but sincerely , it was almost in the exact moment that I decided to persevere for my purpose that the sky opened up. The catharsis I sought after...

I write this as I sit on my yoga mat, waiting to teach my first class in one of the best yoga studios in the city of Melbourne.  I'm teaching weekly workshops and yoga classes at other locations in the city, have various projects in the works, and will be performing in a show on December 5th for a charity event alongside some beautiful and incredibly talented new friends. 

When life kicked, I chose to kick back harder. When you commit to your innate self, there is no such thing as rejection. It seizes to exist. So... persevere persevere persevere my friends, for the rest of your life. And never stop loving. Without the darkness, how else are we supposed to appreciate the sunrise?  ;)

  
 “The best antidote I know for worry is work. The best cure for weariness is the challenge of helping someone who is even more tired. One of the great ironies of life is this: He or she who serves almost always benefits more than he or she who is served.” Gordon B. Hinckley

The Exhale.

And then I realized, most of my life I've had a great fear of loss.  I have spent too much time rebelling against the forces of nature, and have dug my claws too deeply into what was never meant to be mine.

This year has been a lesson on recycling pain into a new lens.

It has been nearly a year that I arrived in Australia feeling vulnerable and heartbroken, not to mention that life took no mercy and threw some cliffs and trenches along the way.  I say 'heart broken' in the exaggerated sense that I was deeply in love with a man, and I fought to the point of losing myself to make our relationship work, even though deep down my soul was telling me that it wasn't right.  (The fallacies of a stubborn taurus woman with too much passion.) With him, I did not feel whole. Every voice within told me to let go, but I couldn't bear the thought of losing someone I loved, or the pain that came with the idea of him no longer loving me back. I could not forfeit the transparency and trust I relinquished to him. So I hung on to false green pastures. And with unashamed admittance, I was a grown woman still afraid of abandonment.  It has taken time, confrontational aloneness, and a very broken heart for me to break it open and find my way back to myself.

I've spent some time working for a beautiful family, looking after their 2 and 5 yr. old boys.  Living within a 'normal' family dynamic made me aware of things I had yet to face. This realization came to me whenever the boys wrapped their arms around their daddy when he walked through the door, and my heart felt immense pain and beauty all at once.  I would never have a father that is capable of this role, and hadn't realized the significance of the denial I thought I had concurred long ago. 

 It was an intense awakening that there were still parts of my being that felt incomplete. An incompleteness that has lead to immaturity, unfulfillment, and fulfillment seeking patterns in all my relationships. In the past I became an expert at supressing sadness, only to have it manifest itself into deep depression and resurface (usually under the influence of alcohol) in which I was quick to bury it again.  I've competed with this void by wearing a facade of armour, and diminishing any feeling that involved defeat, even if that meant being dishonest with myself at times. As a child, I had my mechanisms of combating the things I could not control.  I felt an unhealthy need to be the best at everything, a perfectionist, in an attempt to seek love from where it was lacking and to feel somewhat in control.

I'm sharing a small piece of my reality not for pity, but as a message to whoever is reading. The pain we experience in life, in whatever form it comes, from death of a loved one to heart break, this pain is not working against you, and is not the evil nemesis we make it out to be. See pain as a companion, sitting next to you and asking for acknowledgment, reminding you of your aliveness, and all the creativity and beauty it can bring forth to assist you in becoming your rawest, most humane form of you. One of the most tragic things about humanity is that many people never know how to manage their grief.  They carry it around them, too afraid to puncture its bubble, allowing their suffering to stifle their truth. They feel they are a victim of life, and this perpetuates into a vicious cycle where hostility and greater problems breed and hone, often taking innocent people.  Do not allow yourself to deteriorate from existence this way.  There must come a time when we release ourselves from our own prison. No one else is going to write your story for you, and I promise you...you have all you need within to give life to yourself.  

Nicolle