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Back in September 2012, I had a revelation that caused me to re-define my understanding of myself and my relationship to the world. I did not really share it then. It was too risky, too close, too vulnerable to let out. But now, in January 2013, I am daring greatly and trusting that the time is right.

A note of explanation: I share my story, and this new blog, not to make a big deal of myself, my story.  Rather, I want to illustrate my  gratitude, and share in the vulnerable, creative, daring my mentors have shown me.  Be it in person or on blogs, through classes or coaching — I have absorbed so much goodness, inspiration, love, and encouragement. It is time to take forward all of that in my own way.

So here goes…be kind….I have always been an artist.  I was born an artist.  There, I said it to everyone.  If you do not know me it might not seem like much of a revelation, but if you do, I would guess it might come as somewhat of a surprise.

Here is my revelation story:


My dad and I in our “Alice in Wonderland” ballet costumes. I played the Governess/Queen of Hearts. 1993.

Despite spending many years of my youth pursuing and fulfilling my creative energy through dance, a severe chronic injury from age 16-18, coupled with a less-than-ideal skeletal structure for ballet, ended my path towards a professional career.  I had to give it up even though dance was the biggest thing in my life. It was devastating. I mourned this sudden and complete halt in “my” art, that also felt like an end to BEING me. I energetically searched for replacement “careers”, “dreams”, “passions” but nothing I sought, or even imagined then, could replace dance.

I lost my artistic way in a thick grey coastal fog.  I could not see the painting, book-making, or writing I had done lots of growing up as ways of expressing my artist. I could not see the classes in interior design, mechanical drawing/drafting, or even stained glass as my art.  I was nearly blind to the truth that it was immersion in the artistic process, creative expression, and collaboration that I had loved and thrived on.  Had I pursued interior design, or architecture, or writing as a creative art after I stopped dancing it might be my profession today. But I was caught in this trap of conditioning that said if you cannot pursue the one thing you love then you might as well do the opposite — something practical. Besides everything through my 18-year-old-tunnel-vision sunglasses seemed pale and boring compared to the bright energy of dance. So I moved to San Francisco and went to University, for business.

– lotus peach

Stay tuned for Revelation Part II… In the meantime, tell me what was your first dream or first definition of yourself, and how did you lose or stay connected to it as you grew up?