A New York State of Sound

This past summer, I spent almost 3 months in New York City. I travelled alone, making it an adventure of independence. It was about taking a little time to myself to work out my next plans and current thoughts. My aims were simple; to dance, to write, to discover, and to challenge myself to really be alone for the first time in years. With some modelling thrown in to pay my New York rent!

Before I left for the states, I contacted around 40 different yoga studios in New York City, enquiring if they had any opportunities for work/study students. 3 replied to me, and 1 of those replies was filled with kindness and open welcome. A week later, I found myself sitting barefoot in the reception area of Sacred Sounds Yoga Studio on Bleecker Street, being warmly accepted into the beautiful sunlit studio space by the incredible and altogether humble owner, Stephanie Tang. 

After telling Stephanie a little about myself and this story, Stephanie grinned at me in the pure way only she can and asked nothing more of me than to volunteer my time on a Saturday in exchange for a full program of yoga classes. I happily accepted, and so began a summer of daily classes and solo yoga discovery - accompanied by some incredible new friends within the studio!

Still now, I listen to the music played at the studio to bring back my centre of gravity. Still now I wake up early to practice the yoga sequences I was taught. Every day I carry with me the lessons I learnt on the mat and in the company of the other students and staff there. For this, to Stephanie, and to all who I met at Sacred Sounds in the summer of 2015, I am immensely grateful. 

And so, making a little change from my usual blog style of writing, I will share with you a piece of poetry that I hope will express a little of my time within those sacred New York walls. It's official. The Liberty's Arts & Wellness Studio has a role model for it's future! 

'Dedicated to Stephanie, and every teacher, friend and colleague at Sacred Sounds Yoga Studio, NYC'.

SACRED SOUNDS

-This Now.

Dropping sounds.

Bated breath.

A distant, ‘Hallelujah’.

Pause my blood, as we realign each compass.

Curled toes relent from fixedness,

as soles find floor and soul finds core.

I capture breath into the lowest corners,

And exhale.

Muscles break from solitude, as they mesh and warm to one another in earnest.

Creaking bones, cracking joints, divided thought.

Inhaling the scent of my flesh as it heats.

Flow through and around me now,

I  A M  R E A D Y.

Let us be lost, to find.

To be blinded in order to discover.

Take our moments and stir them into the illusion of time.

For we are open now, united.

Below skin’s surface lie gentle waves of energy.

I trace their outline respectfully, as they stir and shift in their beds.

With each touch, each sacred sound, I discover the soaring and the fallen.

Close the history books now.

Stop this train.

Let’s alight from it’s aching carriages and walk a while together.

Take my hand, for I will hold the centre of yours eternally.

No fear, lies here.

Weightlessness brings no danger to this forward journey.

For love was never the answer.

It was our cause.

Namaste

I’m living happily ever after. So why can’t I breathe?

Yesterday I had one of the most incredible experiences of my life. Then, immediately after, I forgot how to breathe. 

Let me explain.

Yesterday morning I found myself emerging from the subway at the seemingly ludicrous hour of 6.a.m! I was booked for a lovely ballet photo-shoot in the heart of New York’s Central Park. The shoot was classically minded, placing technical ballet in front of the green backdrop scenes of Central Park in morning light. At these early hours the park was gloriously near deserted and as equipment and cameras were set up, the sun began to heat the park as it’s light broke over us. I began to limber, bathing in the warmth of it all. 

So began the creative process of sharing work with Edwin Alvarado, my incredible photographer. It quickly became clear that this was one of those incredible moments when two like minds unite in a creative working situation. Before long, I was balancing in an arabesque on the edge of a fountain, as Edwin leapt around me photographing each shape and silhouette.

Around halfway through our shoot a young gentleman cycled up, dismounted, and opened up an instrument case. Without a word, only a politely acknowledging smile, he began his day of playing the most beautiful violin playing I have heard for a very long time. This man, unassuming and gentle, filled the space with delicate notes. It was all the music I could ever need to feed my dancing mind and muscles. Our duo collaboration became a trio!

Lost in music, and encouraged to just keeping moving freely by Edwin, I started to improvise in the space, blended with past ballet choreography as it came to me. I obligingly followed the rise and fall of our new accomplice’s music, allowing it to flood and lead me. I stopped noticing the flash of the camera. I danced without inhibition and with fervor. I finally halted to find a crowd of curious tourists filming us! It was honestly one of the most incredible moments of my dancing life.

After we had finished the shoot and I had bid farewell to the wonderful Edwin, I half walked and half skipped my way down the steps of the subway station. As I floated between stations on my way across the city, I smiled to myself, trying to recall the moments just passed.

Then, I hyperventilated. In the middle of 14^th Street subway station, I choked on oxygen, and lost the ability to exhale. Only an hour or so after feeling like my lungs were my wings, suddenly I couldn’t manage to make them operate.

I do not suffer with fear of many things, as you might decipher from my living patterns and movements. I do not fret over solo foreign travel or plans changing unexpectedly. I have no problem with social situations or being entirely alone. Despite all of this I can admit that at the age of 27, I have battled anxiety for ten years.

Why have I never written about it before? Because I felt ashamed of it, and because I have gotten so good at hiding it. Performers have a tendency of doing that, being able to do so very convincingly as proven historically. Truthfully, it does not affect me often anymore. After a period of it becoming very acute during one period of my life, it has otherwise been a controllable creature within me for the most part. But every now and again it makes an unwelcome appearance, boldly unfazed by my very apparent rejection of its presence.

This tale may seem confusing, and be assured that I quite agree! It's nonsensical that such a happy and successful morning of creative endeavor could be followed by the grip of something as destructive as a panic attack. How do the two connect?

When I am freed to express myself I allow my mind and body to completely let go both emotionally and artistically. This can lead to a release of adrenaline and a cognitive liberation that can potentially lead to feelings of anxiety and panic afterwards. Comparable to a come down from inebriation, it can be the tiny crack in the door in my mind and body for anxiety to throw itself through.

Anxiety is a nasty and vicious animal that sucks the energy from your body and the calm from the most settled of minds. It takes no hostages and manifests itself in varying forms and formats. But essentially, a panic attack is just a heightened or extended version of any time you have felt nervous, had a feeling of fight or flight, or a tremor of uncertainty. We have all felt this – we are human! But for some, these feelings can spiral out of control leading to a panic attack.

I have steadily worked for the past ten years to be able to harness these feelings when they start to arise, so that I can ‘put out the light of a match rather than attempting to put out a housefire’ as it was once described to me! I personally have chosen not to take medication for it - I want to be able to heal myself naturally. I acknowledge entirely that medication can be literally life saving for some. For me, my yoga experiences now have been key to relearning how to control my breathing and to clear my mind. Everyone has their path.

I really am living my happily ever after. I wake up daily to a life I could never have dreamt of having previously! For this, I am astonished and daily grateful. But nothing and no one is perfect. We all come with our idiosyncrasies and personal stories.  We are the result of our past lives and the formulae of our futures. And long we may celebrate every story and every difference!

I have routinely looked back my times of anxiety with feelings of shame. My own vulnerability embarrassed me. But I feel now that my viewpoint has changed. I choose instead to feel grateful and altogether amazed at what potential kindness lays all around us! The kindness of strangers, and the love of the people we live alongside never ceases to amaze me. 

I am very happy! I am a dancing yoga hippy with a passionate soul and a keen writing hand. I love eating, laughing and sharing life with whomever I meet. But every now and then, I suffer at the hands of anxiety. Most days, I sit cross legged atop of it, halting it from interfering too much with my life. Yesterday? It got away from my control. But it had it’s time. And now I sit back atop of it, ever the stronger for having defeated it one more time.

We’re all doing our best. I know you are. And for the days when it all gets a little breathless, one day there will be a place of liberty and wellness, where we can work together on our lungs minds and stories, as we work through our fights and flights. 

Dedicated to anyone who has ever struggled to get the words out, and to all those who have helped me along my way to finding mine.

H E L E N  V I C T O R I A  
#liberté

Summer Movement

 I am in a small studio apartment in Queens that is decorated with the greenest bamboo, the brightest white walls, and the most intricate decorations from all over the world. The room belongs to my Peruvian/Egyptian/American roommate who has so kindly rented the room to me during my time here in New York. I am back in New York!

Readers may remember that I was here last year, whilst performing with the Vazquez show tour. We were here for 11 weeks, performing every night and exploring each day. The difference being this time - the city has heated up! The crisp winter weather has been replaced by long, hot summer days. Although I did adore the romantic winter

version of this city, I am more in love than ever this second time around. This second date with New York has brought beaches, hours spent wandering the streets as they begin to cool each evening, and adventures to find new and undiscovered corners.

To explain; unfortunately a recent venture to Malta to take up a dancing contract did not turn out quite as it should have. The company was sadly very unprofessional and there was a serious case of exploitation of the dancers. I made the decision to leave Malta behind, despite the island’s beauty and the attraction of dancing in such a lovely show. I withdrew from the situation and left several ‘Liberty’s business cards in the dirty apartment I was leaving – just in case any of the management or company ever need to find their own freedom one day.

I am grateful to the experience, for giving me an opportunity to challenge my true commitment to our cause. Leaving meant coming away from security, but it also implicated moving on from a situation that would have been emotionally, artistically and professionally limiting. I have since reported the company to authorities, and several other dancers have followed suit and left the situation. But it shouldn’t be this way. Ever.

And so, I walked back into my home environment without a job, plan, or structure! And so, I drew up fresh plans. I made a list of the places in the world that made me happy, another list of the things I would like to do to make me happy, and then a quick financial calculation. The results were that I would like to live, love and dance in New York for as long as I can! I am limited somewhat on funds, but worked out that if I could gain some kind of internship at a dance and/or yoga school then I could receive free training, which would mean I would only need an inexpensive place to stay and a little food money. A quick SkyScanner flight search, some circus contacts networking and rapid eBay selling later - and here I am.

I emailed all 26 yoga schools existing in New York City. 5 replied, 1 of which offered me an immediate interview. And so last Monday, 2 days after I flew into the city, I found myself standing outside Sacred Sounds Yoga Studios. I walked in, and up the stairs, to find a shoe rack. Obligingly, I removed my shoes. And then I met Stephanie.

Stephanie is the founder and owner of Sacred Sounds. She opened the studios in 2011, as a place for anyone who needs to heal in any form to come to use the space to do so, whether physical, or emotional. She filled me in on many details about the studio and it’s history and philosophies, and as her words floated through me, I felt a sensation of change tremble through me. 

Sacred Sounds has established what I have been building towards in so many ways - it is a true place of liberté. It is a yoga centered place of healing, wellness and movement. It is what we have been moving towards in our collaborative journey towards the doors of Liberty’s Arts & Wellness Centre.

I spent the rest of that afternoon and the days since attending dance training classes at Broadway Dance Center, going to a rooftop modeling casting, walking over Brooklyn Bridge, exploring beautiful corners of the city, and making new connections. I have filled notebooks, sung at a Mexican karaoke in guessing Spanish, and eaten huge watermelon slices while sitting in the green pastures of Central Park. I have listened to the sounds of the summer bands in Union Square, worked as a model for a photographer, and continued to work on my London freelance writing work from various organic and eco inspired coffee shops. Throughout it all, my initial experience of Sacred Sounds has not left me for a moment. 

We are never alone. Whether living in a city of millions, or hiking across skyline mountains (I recently discovered the literary pleasure that is ‘Wild’ – which I would highly recommend!) or whether we are in our own home environments. Whatever challenges we face or how we choose to challenge ourselves, we are united in liberté. No employment,  living situation or human can strip away who we are at our core, unless we allow this to happen. The process of this past month has all the more confirmed this for me, on our journey forwards. 

Where are you spending your summer this year? I would love to hear where you are, and what you are occupying yourselves with! Feedback and e-mails are always so welcome. For now, I am going to close my Macbook from the spot I am now sitting in, and go for a 3 mile walk from one end of Central Park to the other. The photo below is exactly where I am right now, as I type. 

Walk with me a while?

Helen Victoria. 

The Lungs of a Compass

Following a few months of being rather hectically busy, I have finally found time to read a little more in the past few weeks. Gloriously, I have been lost and found in two literary works of particular note; Firstly, Paulo Ceolo's 'The Alchemist'. Journeys of journey. The second book that has happily swallowed me whole is Cheryl Strayed's 'Wild'. My copy of it was sent to me by my brilliant best friend, complete with tiny asterix nudges and annotations to draw my attention to the many gem sentences within it. In this way we joined together (despite the fact she lives in the French ski mountains) to accompany Cheryl on her 3 month solo venture of walking America's PCT in order to find her way again. Few books are able to take my breath away whilst also filling my lungs with hope and oxygen. Effortlessly, this one did. 

It was her journey. Her wild, independent, journey. Instead of the Disney hero of the stories we grew up with, who venture off into unknown lands to find love and treasure, here was a true life heroine, self assigning herself an independent quest across mysterious terrain. Her tale is told with honesty and a deep sense of experience. She offers us the immense gift of truth. 

Freshly inspired by alchemists and backpackers, I have chosen this week to venture into the deep heart of North Wales. Here to find space and time, I am surrounded by mountains and overlooking vast stretches of the beach. Each evening is spent curled up in a gas fire heated (astonishingly cheaply rented!) caravan, drink tea, and exist. 

This afternoon, I went for a walk. It was drizzling, cold, and altogether rather aggressive weather. As I clambered over the dunes to reach the sands, I paused to wonder whether it might be a whole lot more sensible to clamber back down and return to the cosy comfort of my caravan. But then the winds took me. 

As I half jumped and half stepped down from the dunes, the wind wrapped around me and pulled me further forwards on to the beach. Taking my arms and shoulders, it guided me forwards hurriedly, encouraging me to break into a gentle run as I made my way across the vast stretches of sand. The tide was completely out, leaving me with miles around of clear, slightly rippled, stone coloured sands. The horizon white and navy, it was impossible to separate the very ends of the earth from where the deep sky began. Listening to the rush of the whipped winds around me and the dulcet tones of Keaton Henson from my iPod, I felt a decompression of my chest that I hadn't expected. Suddenly, with panic, I thought I may burst into tears. But to my delight, I began to laugh, and laugh and laugh!

Then the dancing came. I didn't decide to, any more than I made any choice for the next few minutes what my movements would be. But there it came, dance came breaking from my bones and snapping from my muscles. Dance that had been lying formant, in my months of being so busy with so many jobs and commitments. As I fell, faltered, skipped, and leapt across the sandy plains of that welsh beach I realised all at once how much I had missed pure dancing. How much I do miss it. And just at the moment that I came to this heady realisation, I spotted something. 

There, lying in the grey expanse of wet sand, was a piece of treasure. Unique amongst the many other pieces of pebble and shell, was a smooth, pock marked black stone. The very replica of the sculpture that I wrote about seeing in Paris almost exactly two years before in this same blog. 

'A Friend in Paris, 2013' - http://journey-to-libertys.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/a-friend-in-paris.html

There were no other stones around my treasured find, and no real reason for me to spot it amongst the rest of the sea debris. But there it was. Laughing all the harder at this blatantly comical nudge from the Universe, I relaxed my shoulders more than ever before, and happily sauntered back to my caravan cave to shower and drink teapot bellyfuls of hot mint tea.

It's just all moving sands. All of this life. Sand filled plains of change and challenge, as the waters drift and the tide move through and around us. This dancing beach experience remains, along with the clarity I hadn't realised I was looking for. 

I have learnt that it's OK to go a little wild every now and again, or to get lost in a foreign land. I have been taught by two great writers and the Universe itself that it's OK to take time to listen to yourself. Your own voice is the only one you really need to hear, when navigating. Where is your path taking you, currently? Which route have you chosen, in this year of 2015? 

This week I will be returning to classes and to studio practice. To compass books and maps. I'll be carrying a small, pock marked, perfectly sculpted pebble to remind me not to turn back. For now, this is where the journey has taken us. 

Be brave! Be happy! Be a little wild this month! You might be surprised at the treasure you may find.

Liberté.

X.