WordDance

We were all following along nicely in my Saturday morning Zumba class when there was a momentary note of confusion, and our feet betrayed us. We were jolted out of our rhythm as the instructor switched to the next sequence of movements. We had been lulled into a feeling of security, our brains taking a little break as our bodies got pulled along by the repetitive movement. It was only a brief hiccup, but definitely palpable.

Transitions are uncomfortable — both inside and outside the Zumba studio. They require attention and effort, so much so that we often put them off for as long as humanly possible, seemingly with the hope of avoiding them altogether. And why wouldn’t we? It’s human nature to seek comfort and resist change, once again demonstrating Newton’s first law of motion, inertia.

Transitions need to happen, though. They can be delayed, but eventually all things come to an end. Life forces us to pivot as we are met with challenging situations and we have no choice but to deal with them. Like the change in Zumba from one sequence to the next, if we don’t anticipate what’s coming up, if we allow ourselves to be seduced by the illusion that life will remain the same forever, we’ll get caught off guard, making the transition that much harder to face. A few missteps are inevitable and we may even stumble — a flat-out faceplant is not entirely out of the question. It can feel like we’ve lost control of the situation, and maybe we have, but not all is lost. Quite the contrary, in fact.

I got my second cancer diagnosis in December 2022 — my own metaphorical faceplant. It was the thing that finally set me in motion to straighten up and listen. And as I did, a little voice in my head began to emerge from the din. I now had the space to ask myself some difficult questions — and the capacity to hear the answers. Have I been living my life with intention or have I just been swept along with the current? When I dug deep, I knew the latter was true. I had been drifting downstream for too long. This was a painful realization and a powerful motivator. As if a massive tree was blocking my way, I had been forced to find a different route to paddle.

Now I had to stop and take an honest look at my life. I needed to ask myself the question that as adults we often stop asking: “What do I really want?” The answers came trickling in at first, then a steady stream and soon they were flooding in and I couldn’t stop the flow. It was hard to believe that for so long I had suppressed fundamental truths. I had lost touch with aspects of myself that I hadn’t felt in years.

I’ve been given a valuable opportunity, a second chance. As trite as this sounds, I know it to be true. And this knowledge pushes me forward like nothing else has. I don’t know if I believe in a higher power, but I do know that if I’m not attuned to the little voice in my head that’s still connected to my “true” self — the voice that’s looking out for me — I’ll get clobbered over the head. The messages will keep coming at me one way or another, so I may as well sit up and pay attention before my inner self gets its club poised for a good whacking.

My priorities have had to shift. Transitions are uncomfortable, but that’s how I grow. After wiping the dirt from my face, I’m ready to get back up and walk the path that I’ve chosen with eyes wide open.