I'm all olive oiled up

I slathered on the olive oil for an overnight deep conditioning treatment. My husband came in the bathroom and saw me dipping my ends directly into the bottle of olive oiland he rolled his eyes at me. Hhhmph. Little does he know I have really good ends on account of dipping them in oil.

Belly dance class was inspiring last night. I was feeling unworthy over the week-end. I had cobwebs in my head and kept tripping up on the choreography Friday night. Last night I asked my teacher how to improve a particular move. I don't know the name for it but it's when you do two small rib circle isolations, then you widen it way out and do two great big rib circles, side, back, and side. The effect on the audience is perceptible because after you do the little circles (performed slow with nothing but background drums) when you switch to large ones and lean alllll the way back, at can cause the audience to move forward in their seats. Very cool effect. Anyway, I was next to two long tall drinks of water. Tall, shapely, lithe and lovely, young and experienced, and then there's me, 5'2", struggling to be cool, and lucky I have a waistline at all. I felt stumpy and so little and short doing my rib isolations in comparison to them. Well I showed my teacher the move and she said, "Liliana, I can't do it as well as you just did it." Then she launched into a "love yourself" talk. Heh. So this week I'm working on appreciating how this body moves without comparing it to everyone elses. That's the beauty of middle eastern dance. It's actually folkoric dance we're doing and all body types are acceptable.

Tonight at church we had a guest speaker. He was, I'm sorry, not a very dynamic speaker, but I did benefit from some of what he shared. He mentioned in passing, a book called Living in the Light of Eternity. I like that title. Makes me remember to be mindful and to live each moment to its fullest. I should try to dance like that.

Last night I had a dream, a recurring one. I'm lost, surrounded in all directions, as far as my eyes can see, by a wide expanse of freeway and overpasses and cloverleafs. Very gray. Sometimes the place I'm lost varies, for example sometimes it's in downtown San Diego and I'm in the barrio and I'm afraid of the people. I walk in fear of danger. I need to be with my cousin Laurie but I can't find my way back to her. Always in the dream, I do not have her phone number. If I had her number I could tell her where I was and she could come get me. Always, I go into a room and there's no phone, or it doesn't work. It feels similar to when I was 20 and I'd get lost driving and I'd go in a gas station for directions and they'd give me wrong ones or I couldn't remember them after they told them to me, so I'd continue to drive. Lost. This time, the room was a dank, quiet, depressing childcare center with one person sitting in a child's chair, an open book in his hand, but no children in the room to listen. He looks at me blankly, no help at all. I go back out to the empty freeways and walk and feel like if only I can remember which way to go I can get back to the house. I never do get back.