Welcome to Reflections of a Buddhist Pole Dancer!

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Erasable Me

This low was low. Lower than many of its predecessors, yet not low enough to have its own DSM IV classification. To mark its sucker-punch I performed three unrelated, yet equally informative actions. First I stopped running (okay, only for three days, but c'mon-- I am in training. That was a strategic sabotage). Next I detached from all social media. I felt the bee-sting of ignored posts, unanswered texts and, of course, the unread blog. Finally I took my pole down, but only after kicking and swearing at it (ouch!). By this point, if you hadn't noticed, the  Buddhist part of the Buddhist Pole Dancer had long since left the building.

I told my sister what I was feeling and how I was handling it. She plainly said I was trying to erase myself. She said she does it all the time when feeling blue. She gets rid of the indicators of joy and balance, anything that reminds her of her truth.

She erases herself.

Absolutely brilliant.

Erasable me.

Seductive isn't it? The intrique of hide-under- a-rock invisibility? To choose to be ignored because you've felt that way all along? To decide to be less than because your mood dictates that truth? To feed the low instead of finding a way out? To believe that your true self is this-- erasable, not some spirit-bunny who runs, plays and spins around a pole?

(Right now) there's enough of me left on the canvas to know I don't want to stay low or-- please no-- dip lower, so I begrudgingly started drawing myself back into my life. Today I forced my feet to run five miles (okay, my nagging, but oh-so-loving husband forced me to run). I didn't take the easy path, but instead ran hills and fartleks (It's Swedish--look it up.)

To further bring myself into view, even if only painting by proverbial numbers, I showed up to write a post that I know no one will read-- but I plod none the less.

And I put up my pole. Not just for posterity: I went through the motions of a happier self and practiced inverts and climbs. I even "got" the thigh invert I've been trying for quite a while. No happy dance followed, but I notice I am pleased by the progress because I keep thinking of trying it again and again and again.

While Merriam-Webster boasts 20 synonyms for erase, the word doesn't have an exact antonym. "Near antonyms" include protect, preserve, mend, restore and renew. None is a fit for my current state of wellness, not yet, but knowing I wasn't lured into erasing even more of myself must count for something.

Image Credit: Erase Me by MUHIRE Joseph


leslie said...

Not erasing more counts for a lot. It's like the tide is turning. Or it's step zero: this shit has got to stop! Love you more than you can know.

Cristina xo said...

I read it! I read many, although I don't comment, preferring instead to keep my big yap shut.

Larry said...

Never before has a description of this behavior (of which I regretfully admit to indulging in far too often) been so perfectly painted. "Erasable Me." It's perfect! It's powerful! Thank you! It labels an action, gives it a name. And now that I know its name I hope it will have a harder time lurking around in my back yard. Never again will I be able to partake in this process of "erasing myself" without realizing what I'm doing, because now I better understand what I am doing, which is a huge step into the light. I am changed for the better by your words.

May I link this post to my Facebook page? I think it will speak to a lot of people.

I look forward to reading more of your future posts. Thank you for doing this. Reading your words makes me feel less broken, more whole.