During the concert, Martina said that all she ever wanted to do was sing. Singing, besides margarita making, is the only talent she has she said. I can only imagine what an uninterrupted dream feels like. Dream it. Work hard. Achieve it. Such a simple concept. Such an impossible reality for most of us.
Growing up with a mother whose own journey led her to crave boundaries and boxes, consistency and predictability, created a lot of confusion...for both of us. I wanted to dance, write, create, express...I wanted to feel the freedom that only releasing my creative beast could give me. She wanted to cage the beast. Not kill it. It was OK for the beast to exist in the world as long as it was locked up and placed a decent distance away, so we could all stay safe. My beast could not stay away, and instead of being trained in useful ways, it often roared in anger and created chaos in our home--Her home. Her clean, careful, safe little home.
Trying to repress and behave while living with a wild, creative heart and mind made me feel guilty and bad and wrong, and I often acted bad and wrong and developed illnesses like eating disorders and smoking cigarettes or drinking too much. Even when I was strong on the outside, or professional, or studious, I was sad and confused and uncertain on the inside. Even now, I can't define myself and my gifts clearly because I didn't explore them fully through childhood and beyond...never believed in them completely. Which talents are good, acceptable, allowed? Which gifts are unworthy, embarrassing, worthless?
When I danced, I felt it. Freedom. Belonging. Love. My story. My self. It was OK to show it. Ok to live it. OK to be it. Spin and roll and leap and FEEL. My real home, wherever the studio or stage was.
As I've aged, I've tried to allow the dreams to sneak past the prison bars. They're tempered by time and experience now, but they're unashamed. Somewhere between childhood and nine kids and brain cancer and now, I found the permission slip to let them run, and I signed it myself.
More than anything in the world, I want my children to feel that wind of creative power blowing on their faces. Feel that the world can't offer any obstacle they can't tackle. Some will sing. Some will write. Some will heal. Some will dance. But I want them all to dream their dreams and believe in their possibility with passion and clarity and faith.
I want to be the runway, the flight path, not the prison bars. Although, I fear all parents create suffocating cocoons to some extent. Dream babies. Dream. Dance. Fly. Believe. You deserve it, and you're worth it.
P.S. Remember, it never hurts to learn how to make a margarita, too! Sometimes, the road gets a little rough, and you'll just need a drink.
