May is a girl from Brooklyn, who's working on 3 novels (fantasy, nonfiction and fiction) at the moment, while she's looking for work. She's had several articles published before in magazines and newspapers.
A message from me:
May is a stunning dancer. She radiates joy, fullness and presence. And in my opinion, she is a great dancer because the love for the dance moves through her, emanates and radiates out from within her and is infectious. It brings me great joy to witness her Joy. The fact that she is a Brooklyn girl is like icing on the cake. It's no wonder this Bronx girl is so taken with her :).
I am so glad she took the time to write this:
Resistance to writing
by May Leong
Why is it hard to write sometimes? What am I resisting? There are many reasons that come to mind when I allow myself to really look at them: • Fear that it doesn’t come out as cleverly on paper as it does in my head
• Worry that the words just don’t come
• Worry that what I write may or may not be used. Will it be throw-away text or will it be something that sticks and can be used?
As I was putting on my sneakers today, getting dressed so that I could save time to write, I thought about what I love – dance – and why I don’t strive to be a great dancer yet I’m willing to make the effort to try and be a great writer. OK, maybe not a great writer, but at least a good one. The mantra I’ve come back to this year (which has appeared to me in the past) is - I am good enough. What I put out to the world is good enough. What I do as a parent, partner and friend is good enough and more specifically, what I’m going through in this journey of life is good enough. The struggles, lessons and all don’t have to be great, good enough is just that – good enough.
While I may be older and the chances of me becoming a great dancer at this age are much slimmer (though not entirely impossible), to me, dance is a movement that is the celebration of life. It’s something I do for myself, something I find pleasurable, challenging, frustrating at times when my hips won’t move the way they used to, as if with age they’ve earned the right to argue back and have a mind of their own – imagine that?
At the same time, dance is a growth opportunity, a rediscovery of yes, I once made that move, I once danced that dance – hello old friend, you never really left me did you? But something inherently, true, at least to me, is that dancing requires an audience, because why create great movement/art if you’re not going to share it? That’s not to say that dance shouldn’t only be for an audience. What I can express in words almost makes up for what I can’t express through my body in dance, simply because if I started now, it’s so late in life, not because I’m going to die tomorrow, though in all honesty I can’t rule that out either, but because I’m starting at a time when my body is not as supple and forgiving as compared to the body of my younger self, when I was 6, 12 or 20.
Do I wish I could go back in time and be a dancer? Sure that would be great. However, short of having access to a time machine, what I’ve discovered instead is the immense joy of dance and movement in my Nia classes. The highlight of my week, what I look forward to is going back to being a new student again. Learning how to move so that this body doesn’t become stiff or stagnant. I get to be that 10-year old again, when I didn’t care how I looked when I moved, when movement was all about just enjoying the lift of an arm to the sky or a kick at an imaginary board in front of your shoulders. It doesn’t matter that everyone else in the room has their arms, legs and heads in different positions from me. We all move to the music, to our breath and at the leisure that our bodies afford us. Without our bodies we have no permission to move, we cannot indulge our desires to express.
What would it be like if my body were bound in a wheel chair and I participated in Nia? I’m sure I would enjoy the pleasure that this type of movement affords, I just would have a greater restriction on what I could physically do, but I doubt this would limit the level of enjoyment of the class.
Being able to play in movement and expression each week is good enough for me. I don’t need an audience. I don’t need to dance for the sake of giving a gift to the world in the way that Martha Graham or Isadora Duncan did. I have a great appreciation for the artists who can create dance, who can dance as artists. It’s kind of like appreciating a movie – I don’t need to be a director or props person or costume designer to enjoy a movie or feel passionate about it. Sometimes I like to think that at best I can art direct – others who are more creative.
So this little essay in what makes it hard to write? I wanted to try it out and see if it would help me break through, at least get a few more words on the page and sure enough, I am grateful that it did.
