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Don’t House Sit Someone Else’s Life

I spent the first 12 years of my life living in Sydney. In the city. Glebe to be precise. We were all pretty independent kids, catching buses and trains from a pretty early age. Walking through city streets to get to corner shops, parks or friends houses. By the time we were leaving the city, I was a city person through and through.

I knew the sights, smells and sounds of the city like the back of my hand. I still do!We moved out of the city and since then I have lived in a few different places but have never been far from the hustle and bustle and always made time to come and get my city fix. When we had children, I wanted them to experience the city too. So we spent many weekends coming into the city soaking up its culture, sounds, sights, knowledge, people and vibrance. 

I know people who were raised in the city, who just loved getting away from it. But that wasn’t the case for me.

For me, those first 12 years imprinted city life onto my soul. My love for the city was hardwired. It was done. 

And there has never been an undoing.

The only reason I never moved back to the city was that living there permanently wasn’t good for my health — my asthma and allergies. 

Sooo life goes on. Things change. Decisions are made. People move. We move.

Our hearts are pulled toward the polar opposite of our previous city life. 

We have the epiphany. We want a country life!

We make a plan. A fabulous plan to make our tree change. 

We find a property. Consider employment. Think about the children. Plan, plan, plan.

And it all seems so perfect. The kids will get a country life, they’ll have treehouses and tree swings and animals to frolick with and they’ll run wild through the meadows in floral handsewn dresses and pick flowers and be merrier than we ever could have imagined.

We will have animals that are so full of personality that it makes it simply agonising to say goodbye. We will build our new earthhouse with spectacular views and live a peaceful, stress free, hippie-farming sort of life.

That’s how the story was supposed to be written.

But the story didn’t go exactly as planned. Our story is of us being blind sided by our tree change.

It has taken me a little longer to adjust to country living than I had hoped. 11-ish years, actually. 11-ish years to realise that I was never going to become a farm girl. I still try to learn the country ropes but I still see things through VERY city-girl eyes.

I suppose that’s part of why, during those desperate times a few years ago, I chose ballet as my relief. I was seeking something to find happiness in, as everything was so bleak at that time, but looking around me then, I couldn’t find anything that felt like home. It all still felt so foreign to me then, like I was house sitting someone else’s life.

Things have definitely changed since then and now, ballet is slipping its way back into my life.

The house sitting thing from above really got me. I realised how scary that is, the possibility that I was just house sitting in someone else’s life’s? Holy crap, how terrifying is that?!

Well it’s terrifying for me. I don’t want to reach the end of my life and look back only to realise that I didn’t own my life, that I just house sat someone else’s.

With this in mind I moved forward, and continue to move forward, always reminding myself that I own my life and asking “What do I want to do with it?”

So that’s my message today….

Don’t house sit someone else’s life. 

Your life. Your canvas. Paint it however you like.

P.S: The first animals we got on our property were six chickens. We adored those girls. Until we found out they were guys. 

We had six roosters. 

They weren’t peaceful or stress free. And we weren’t sad to see them go.

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Uncomfortable Truths

Pictures speak a thousand words but sometimes they hide a thousand more.

All the social media platforms we all use are so great in connecting us with other people travelling a similar journey or following someone who inspires you or being able to inspire others yourself.

But with these social media platforms can come  the temptation to create a facade of your life because all the snap shots you post from small moments in your days combine to create a big picture that looks like you’ve got it all together.

Social comparison is not a new thing. But it’s a growing epidemic because there are so many more ways we can socially compare ourselves to others now.

And I think sometimes we can use it to hide the uncomfortable truths about ourselves that either we are afraid to share, or we think others are afraid to see.

Unfortunately, there is so much shaming from society about so many parts of our lives, that it can become impossible to feel okay about ourselves.

So I’d like to start sharing my uncomfortable truths more. And here is my first…

One of my chronic health conditions (POTS) causes muscle tremors. They’re always there but vary in severity. Sometimes I wake up like this and can barely hold a cup of tea, and sometimes they are milder. They are throughout my body. 

They are always this severe or worse about 10minutes into a ballet class or other physical exertion. Imagine the shaky legs you feel after an intense workout, except your muscles are actually spasming. All over your body.

It comes from my malfunctioning autonomic nervous system. Often I can also feel these tremors on the inside as well. Like all my organs are shaking.

That’s my first uncomfortable truth. 

I was mindful about posting this. I know I may lose a whole lot of followers who think they’re following this great pair of ballet legs that turn out to be the bottom half of a very fallable woman who’s just chasing dreams in spite of her everyday (and quite unattractive) struggles.

But fuck it. I don’t want to be seen as perfect because I’m not perfect. I don’t want to be seen as just a pair of legs because I’m so much more fabulous than that. 

I may be flawed. But life is flawed. 

Just because Mother Nature can cause intense damage, doesn’t mean you would deny that she is also overwhelmingly beautiful! Such is us humans. Flawed and fabulous.

I may struggle and fall and fail, but I will keep trying. And it is in the trying that lays my success.  

I’m going to keep posting more of these uncomfortable truths. Because I want them to become comfortable truths. 

Because it is okay that I am who I am and my body does what it does. This should not be something I feel ashamed of.

I’m going to hashtag these posts #uncomfortabletruth 

If anyone else feels like they want to share one of their uncomfortable truths, I’d love to hear it, so please tag me in your post. I will support you and love you regardless. You will not be shamed by me. I will respond by hash tagging your post #iloveyourtruth. Not because I love your struggle, but because your struggle is part of you, the whole you, and the whole you deserves love. Not just the social media presented you.

These posts are not to generate pity, they are to generate solidarity among each other, that we will not be defined by social comparison any longer. And that we are strong, amazing individuals, who are living our journeys and respect the challenges that each of us face.

And if I lose followers from all this then so be it. I’d rather promote self-love and acceptance with fewer people than self-abuse with thousands.

Love to all xxx

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Please, Please, Love Yourself

Dear Artists, Ballet Lovers, Academics, Friends, and Just Everyone The Whole World Over:

I see so many adult ballet students talking critically about themselves.
Don’t get me wrong, self-critique and the desire to improve ourselves is not only important in ballet, but also in life.

I get it. We all want to be better.

But I’m talking about the ratio of self-love:self criticism. There’s way more self criticism happening than self love.

It seems like a virus that’s spreading across our whole society. I see it so much in teens and pre-teens now, too.

As an example, there seems to be so many pictures posted on Instagram with a massive side order of what needs to be improved. And I gotta say, most people don’t have much, if anything, positive to say about themselves.

So guys, I just wanted to say, I reckon you’re all amazing. You’re getting up, having a go, attempting to get something of what you love into your life.

I’m so proud of every adult ballet student because it’s hard as fuck to even enter a studio the first time, let alone trudge along searching for a hint of progress.

And the same to those who’s heartlight is something other than ballet — I admire you for leaping.

But I don’t want any of you to burnout emotionally or physically because you kept ripping yourself apart with criticism without adding a healthy balancing dose of self-appreciation.

Please, take it from someone who at one point was facing the loss of multiple bodily functions, you DO want to appreciate your body for all that it is doing right now. You DO want to give your body credit for being great. You DO want to acknowledge all the beauty that makes you who you are. And you DO want to hug yourself and shower yourself in love.

You might not realise that you want to do all those things, but if you could talk to your future self, your aged self or your possibly unwell self, that version of you would tell you to take advantage of the now you have and love all that makes you you.

So, yes, strive to progress, have high standards for yourself. That is awesome. But please try to keep it balanced with your own appreciation of yourself.

Keep dreaming, dancing, daring … but keep loving self.

Much love,

Zoe