As I approach surgery later this week and Storm Imogen blows cobwebs from my mind and a rubbish bin and some plastic wrapping down the street, I am reminded that I love Winter. I enjoy darker, leaner times perhaps more than most. Take Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. I’ve always preferred Winter and that’s not only because I’ve danced a piece to this music and whilst it plays I always run through the steps in my head. No. It’s because I find it one of the most profoundly beautifully complex pieces of music I’ve ever heard. It breaks me into pieces every time and I must fix myself back up together again.
That’s both a curse and a challenge. It makes me feel incredibly raw. And alive. I think that’s my point. There’s a lot of tough living in the darkness and that living is beautiful. That’s what I’m telling myself right now. That somewhere inside of major surgery that by its very definition is brutal, there is still love and light. And if I can just catch hold of either one of them, then I have a way through. I just need to make the initial leap.
I’ve learned recently that a lot of my favourite classical music resonates at 432 hertz. This is very interesting to me. It makes me think that maybe it’s a universal pulse? It’s definitely my personal pulse.
Music has been part of my life since my first foray into a dance studio. It’s my backbone. So in order to get through this particularly challenging time, I turn to it to feed me. I need it be a language of hope, a promise that there will be life the other side of surgery, and that if that life is initially difficult or incongruent, it will still be right there by my side just as it always has been.
All over the media are pictures of upturned trampolines. Some upturned in their own garden, some more flighty ones, (those that had more front) precociously performed some kind of magnificent pirouette or fouette to land in the gardens of distant neighbours and by the sides of roads. I have some degree of small admiration for them. Hopefully when Imogen has passed through, that messiness can be righted and I hope that when this week is done, my little world can be righted too.
But that courage to leap both inside and outside of what you know in any way that you can, that comes first….