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.

Law & Peas.

'If you're good, you can have a treat at the weekend'

'If you eat all your dinner, you can have dessert'

'If you hit that target, you'll get a work bonus!'

How often have you heard these phrases? How often have we heard sentences such as these during our lives?

As children, we are often coaxed into good behaviours by the luring promise of treats or special treatment. If we ate all our peas, we could have something sweet for afters. If we behaved well, we would be allowed those vital extra few minutes to play our computer games. Enduring broccoli meant later savouring the sweet, creamy sensation of ice cream as it gloriously filled our mouths and slipped deliciously away. The offending green vegetables were quickly forgotten.

As a 9 year old, I was allowed to stay up and watch 'Gladiators' followed by 'Blind Date' with my parents - both programmes were past my bedtime at the time! I don't remember a week when I wasn't allowed to watch Wolf battle his latest competitor on my favourite programme, but the threat of missing it was quite enough to put me off from straying too far from the law!

The lure of a treat or a special experience is undoubtedly a powerful one. We all desire to be treated well, and to have the things in our lives that we want and enjoy. Indeed, to spoil someone is a wonderful thing. When was the last time you treated yourself? When was the last time you took time out just for you? When did you last turn down something you felt obliged to attend, so as to take time to nourish yourself in whatever way would be best for you and your wellbeing?

A few weeks ago an unexpected free afternoon in London presented itself after a morning work meeting. And so, on a whim, I took myself off to The Imperial War Museum. I last visited it as an eleven year old, with my Dad. Now almost 27, the only difference between myself and my younger counterpart was the type of packed lunch and notebook I was carrying! I spent a telephone free four hours wandering the museum's great halls and learning about a period of life that I didn't have vast previous knowledge of. I had a sketchy overview of the two Wars that shook our world to it's core. But I was missing the detail with which to build a more accurate understanding. 

I was moved to learn of the sufferers of The Holocaust, and to read of the war crimes inflicted upon so many innocents. It had a profound effect. Yet I couldn't help but be inspired to learn of the true potential for goodness that the human heart holds. A recurring theme within everything I read was of immense hope. Hope that goodness would prevail. Hope that loved ones would and could be saved. Hope grown from love, and indeed love grown from hope. 

The museum is full of letters from soldiers to their beloveds left at home. It's glass cases proudly hold diary entries of some of the bravest people I have ever heard of. There are video interviews of people who faced horrendous atrocities, yet still went on to live lives of love, giving, and goodness. There are stories of roomfuls of Jewish prisoners breaking out into song and dance in spite of their situations. There were men and women who risked their lives to stand up for their beliefs despite knowing what it could implicate. I arrived that afternoon with a head full of fret about money, career options, and small scale daily problems. I left it's doors with far greater perspective.

My experience at The Imperial War Museum (which I highly recommend - it's free, too!) turned out to be an influential one on the life I have lived in the past few weeks. My day there taught me the value of doing something for no other reason than the utter joy of going about doing it. It was a form of personal investment that I hadn't yet considered.

After my 'day at the museum' I have naturally and almost unconsciously begun to read more after weeks of excuses as to why I wasn't finishing the books I started long ago. I am walking the long way to work, so as to be able to walk through the park. I am eating healthier and more than ever, paying attention to the fuel I give to my body. A smoothie maker has a been a fun new addition to my morning routine! A cheap and colourful way to eat breakfast, I would highly recommend it. If you have any recipes then feel free to give me a shout - I'm addicted! 

I am paying attention to the cells, eyelashes and freckles of my life body, figuratively speaking. I am tending to the plants of my life. The result? I haven't felt this content in a long time, in all honesty. I have felt extremely happy, of course! Contentment is a new found friend that has come to settle here - a welcome friend indeed. 

None of us were issued with a 'how to' guide on what to do in this life, or how to go about doing it. We are all eternally learning to walk. As my favourite lyrics of George Ezra so beautifully explain; 'You don't have to be in the Army, to fight in the war."Wise man Ezra cleverly here reiterates the fact that we are all fighting our battles, and we are never alone in this. You never truly alone, despite how it may sometimes feel in busy rooms and congested news feeds. 

Readers, I set you a challenge! This week I would really like you to give yourself some special attention. A treat, for want of a better word. It could be an elegant new pair of socks (fancy feet!) or booking on to that course you've always wanted to do. It could be spending some time with yourself, peacefully. Or perhaps discovering the noisy joys of a smoothie machine, to make your own colourful breakfast concoctions! Whatever it is, enjoy it to the full. Truly be the change you wish to see in the world, as another very wise man once said. 

Be the gift giver to your own life. There's only one of you, and you know yourself better than I or anyone else will ever know you. You already knew what your gift of choice is, perhaps by the second line of this paragraph. Enjoy - and feel free the share your treats and discoveries with us all!

With all of my liberté,

Helen Victoria.

Hello, old friend.

How lovely this feels, rippling words across these black laptop keys. Like a musician returning to the cool, cold ivory keys of a beloved piano, I feel a definite sense of return. I haven't written a blog entry for a period of months. My decision to cease writing was due to my continuing feeling that I was beginning to write cyclically. I knew fresh air was needed in order to breathe life back into my writing. I was reflective of all that had been collectively achieved with the Journey To Liberty's blog movement but acutely felt the specific end to one period of life, and one battle in particular. As such, I wanted time away from it all, to focus instead on my notebook writing, art production, and choreographic work. And I am so glad I did! The last few months have been a necessary time of cultivation in direct benefit of the Liberty's Journey. 

Today is the 8th March, 2015 - International Women's Day. Today, I find myself in England, unusually! After three solid years of jumping aboard planes all over the world, I am writing to you now from my British home environment. I have written the Journey to Liberty's blog from no less than 8 different countries during it's three year life. My laptop is well travelled, by now! But today, I certainly write from a place of home.

The adjustment period of returning to England has been a difficult one, I cannot deny. Every fibre in my being urges and nags at me to book a new flight, and dance away into the sunset. But I am choosing instead to allow for goodness to come from some time in my own country. I want to see what can be achieved for Liberty's in my native environment. For the first time in my life, I am attempting to live in the moment of 'now' rather than planning ten steps ahead, or with a turned head looking back at my track marks. On a daily basis, this is much harder than I had anticipated! I am a planner, and an opportunist. But I am endeavouring to hone these elements of my skills into ones that can utilise and appreciate the current moment and glean all I can from it. 

I have many updates for you, in terms of what I have been doing for the Liberty's movement and in my own life pattern. But I will gradually update you on these developments in coming entries. There is always, always time. 

As performers, we are extremely adept at taking on characters and confidences that are beyond or even vastly differing from the innards of who we truly are. It is wonderful escape, as well as a very affirming process of self exploration. We can visit places in our minds and on stages that we never ordinarily would have been able to. Personally, I have found that the more I have 'escaped' on stages and in studios, the more I have returned to the core of my truer self. 

This week, I was challenged to really test out the strength of my own personal journey. An opportunity arose to be a life model for a group of 16-18 year old girls of a local boarding school who are studying the dancer's body in their Art A-Level classes. I confirmed my attendance with the head of department, without thinking too much about it. Until I found myself in a robe in an adjoining room to the art studio I would be modelling in. I suddenly wasn't the 26 year old dancer they were expecting. I was the insecure, chubby teenager I was at their age. I was the shy four year old on her first day at school, burrowing her face into her mother's skirt. I was the girl who rented village halls 5 years ago, just to have space to dance without anyone watching, to explore her dancing body as it began to change and alter beneath the skin that held her together. Was I comfortable enough to go ahead with this? I knew and fully believed in it's artistic value, and the positive effect it would have for the student artists awaiting my arrival. But I was caught between every Helen I had been. And so, I did what I always do in such situations - I said a quiet prayer, shook myself off, and stepped boldly on to the stage. 

A few minutes later, I found myself in a balletic pose, entirely naked, in front of twelve focused students. My chin slightly raised, focused on a single spot on the wall, holding my core as strongly as I could so as not to move a single muscle and interrupt the sketch processes unfolding on to canvasses all around me. I came to a singular realisation. I was comfortable. I was not self conscious. I was free. No man of my past or current life was telling me I couldn't do this. No restrictions were upon me. Having barely said a word since arriving, and with no knowledge of who I am, these students were seeing the situation purely. They saw a dancing body in front of them, to draw and encapsulate in their work. That is all. They weren't judging my weight, or pre-judging my life path. They knew only my first name, and the dancing body in front of them. The beautiful simplicity of this electrified my thoughts, and cultivated a huge sense of freedom within me. I physically felt it's force. Without a word, I was communicating in ways I hadn't thought possible. 

This moment, in it's theme of freedom, is exactly the kind I commit to developing in the future days of Liberty's. I want to facilitate moments of freedom, in whatever form it takes for each individual. Whether it is in a moment of dancing, a quiet moment of painting, in achieving a personal goal, or simply communicating with someone who truly understands. We all seek varying forms of freedom. Sometimes they aren't in the places we have been looking, or anywhere we might expect. But they are there, waiting for us. 

And so, here we are! Together, in a new stage of the Journey to Liberty's. The coming months will hold new chapters, and the blog will take on a new, fresh face in many ways. There will be updates of events you can become involved in, art-shares, and even a new design format! 

I want to thank you all for your continuing support, and all of the amazing messages I have received in the past few months while the blog page was having a little time out. The response to our new Facebook page has been immense, and there is a very exciting presence of building energy running through these webpages. There is a lot to look forward to. 

Happy International Women's Day, certainly. But more so, I want to celebrate every individual, female or otherwise, that has joined forces on this journey. 

Welcome home.

Liberté.

libertysjourney@gmail.com

Facebook.com/journeytolibertys

@libertysjourney

Clarity & Wombats.

I have always known my greatest battle. As uncomfortable as it is to admit your truths and faults, I have always known. I have in the past ignored and hidden it, kidded myself of my understanding of it, and even pretended the impossibility of it's existence. But I know it’s shape, it’s colour and it’s stench. I know it’s habits, it’s size, it’s moods.

Vision.

The clear, uncut, honest vision of how things are.  For what they really are. To feel, see and know how things are, not just what I feel I need or want them to be. 

When I am dancing, I see nothing but the greatest of purity. I am free from any thought that may hinder me, free from pain, free from annoyance, free from writers block, free from every ghost of unnecessary consideration. I am the most myself in these instants, and the few moments of come down that follow immediately afterwards. I feel the same when I am writing, as I am now. Even now, as I type, I feel a glorious sense of clarity that feeds every hunger within me, and brings to light every thought within my mind. As such, vision is my greatest accomplice. What moments bring clarity to you? When do you feel the most clear of mind in your days?

As an artist, I have certain skill sets that allow me to see many elements of this world. As I travel on the subway here in New York, I often become consumed by small details such as the design of the seating, or the mannerisms of the people around me, I imagine, I envision, I get lost in my mind. Even after shows, during photo opportunity time with the audience, I have had to be gently scolded by my dancing peers for evidently going off into my own world and losing the fixed stage smile for a few moments that we are paid to display. In those unreachable moments of Helen, I am creating and exploring ideas that are flowing through me. Provoked by the simplest of things. It could be an interaction between audience members, or even the lighting arrangement of the stage itself. But whatever it is, my mind is inexplicably sent wandering away into realms of vision that cannot be seen from the outside of my body.

But these are just moments of my time. They are not all the time. And as much as I would love to, I cannot dance and write constantly. I also have to go to work, apply show make up, warm up, and earn the money I am paid for. I have to do my laundry at the decidedly decrepit Laundromat in Harlem, next to the circus tent here in the city. I have social interactions and occasions to be mindful of, and present within. This is life. And it is the life that I happily live. But in these living hours away from my artistic outlets, this is where my vision tends to gets a little blurred.

I know what I stand for. I know these things now more than ever before. Yet when I do not have time to write or dance to recover myself, I know I can become guided by the feelings of others, concern for popular opinion, or even nurturing relations with people that really do not serve me well. I find myself irritated with only myself, for falling into traps. Traps such as allowing social interactions to play out that I do not agree with. Or shying away from confrontation because in those specific heated moments I lose my vision and therefore my voice. When presented with an uncomfortable view or sound, I retreat into the glorious ease of glossing things and avoiding what I know to be right for myself. It doesn’t happen often. But often enough, that I have had enough of it. 

I applaud the likes of Susannah Conway, who writes the most beautiful books and blogs about freedom of the heart. I admire my best friend Katie, also a talented artist and writer, for knowing herself so fully and presenting exactly who she is to whatever world she finds around her each day. I admire the very pre-judged Emma Watson who recently eloquently and so very accurately presented her stand on feminism to the UN. These are all examples of humans with healthy utilization of their voice. They are differing in their styles and opinions. Yet they are united in their evident clarity of vision.

I admire and promote strength and clarity of perspective. Yet still, I occasionally slip into environments and ways of being that do not feed me well. My time with the people who know me best is akin to the feeling of eating an avocado, in blissful enjoyment of its ability to nourish. But what of those persons that do not provide goodness for you in your life? What of those activities that do not serve well? What of those?

In the past week I have faced some particularly challenging circumstances that have forced me to evaluate my position within life. I have been challenged to consider my value, and perhaps where I might have made mistakes. It is a process I have been through previously, and perhaps one I needed to revisit more recently in order to know I was on the right path. It’s ok to take time to evaluate things and to really see things as they are. My artistic love for the world gives me great clarity and the purest of vision for so much. But I am learning to balance this with realistic 'here and now' eyesight of who I am being, where I am, and how things are around me. In this way, I am learning to connect every area of the contents of my cranium together with all I feel inside of my chest. 

Whilst typing a text message to my mother this morning, telling her what kind of a woman I felt I was today, I accidentally typed ‘I am a calm and very happy wombat’! Albeit a typo, after reading it back with those all-important double ticks telling me that she had read the message, I laughed to myself. Perhaps it is one of the most accurate messages I have sent out to the world in a little while! But the key element to that instant was that I was laughing at myself. I laughed. I did not falter. I knew in that moment I had my correct vision. Woman, or wombat, I am calm, steady, and with the clearest mind I have had in a long time.

To clarity, and every wombat who seeks it.

Helen Victoria

X. 

The Shape of a Circle

“I hope you are keeping well”

“Are you well?”

“Go well”

We spend our days referring to wellness. We ask how strangers are, through good manners and social expectation. Yet how often do we genuinely ask, in a manner that suggests we truly want to know? Moreover, how often do we evaluate how we ourselves are feeling each day? How well do you feel today, as you’re reading each line of this - are you restless? Full, or a little hungry? Do you have any pains today, any discomfort within yourself?

The reason I originally chose the word ‘wellness’ as the co-title of 'Liberty’s Arts & Wellness Centre' is due of its beautifully open nature. At the time that I first came up with the concept of Liberty’s, I had clear vision of it’s purpose. I have had clear vision of what Liberty’s will be since it’s first moments of conception, and although details have been added to the first image I envisioned, it remains the exact same scene in my mind. As I first stated in my opening entry of this blog;

“I have my title. The name for the Centre I am now working towards opening. A studio centre, a centre for dance and arts, a centre for therapies, for counselling, and for so many other creative and holistic opportunities and facilities. All inspired by my own experiences. This is where I'm headed, and where I'm coming from. 

But I am not ready quite yet! I cannot open Liberty's without a stronger base foundation of experience, education and several significant others. I am still yet to come across so many experiences, so many significant people, to be educated in so many areas.”

That was written in the autumn of 2012. The sentiments still stand strong. It has never been solely finance that has stopped me dropping all that I am working on currently and running off to open it all up tomorrow. It is the fact that I wanted, and still want, to be able to work on the journey first. As I travel and explore the world I intend to naturally gather experiences in order to be an able person to open the doors of Liberty’s eventually. I was aware at the commencement of this journey that I still had plenty of people to meet, numerous places to explore, and many more opportunities to take up before I would be ready to say that I felt I was up to the job. Essentially, I have been in training, with myself as my own leader and harshest critic!

Most importantly, I wanted to truly know the meaning of wellness before beginning to approach it conceptually within the walls of Liberty’s, or indeed within the centre of each it’s visitors.

I have in the past commonly focused on only a few aspects of my wellness. During my dance training years I focused a huge amount of my energies on physical exertion. I did eat well in order to feed my training body. But I was under a considerable amount of emotional stress at the time, which undoubtedly affected my health. In turn dancing freed my mind and body to heal itself naturally and my performance time was hugely cathartic as such. But I ricocheted between the two, without necessarily confirming a definite sense of wellness at the centre of myself. I was misbalanced internally, despite my strive for agility in my professional life.

A few weeks ago I attended a yoga class. I have been to many yoga classes during my dancing life. Or I thought I had. What I had experienced was ‘exercise yoga’ essentially. I had moved through the motions and taken on the shapes I was instructed to. But I had never touched upon what I experienced within that hour and a half Saturday class. The class was true yoga, taught by a yogini (a female yoga teacher) in the heart of Atlanta, and it may well be one of the most significant events of my time here in America.

We began with meditation, which for me is usually near impossible. I have always found it very difficult to switch my mind off, to not fidget or shift my body from it’s seat. But then I was given a key. I was taught how to use my body instrumentally to truly attune myself with myself. I broke through my usual levels of consciousness and found peace and understanding on the other side, just as I had previously found within my first ballet class 5 years ago. All at once, my body and mind fell into step with one another and I was aligned in the most intricate and open way. As the class progressed, more and more rigidity fell away from me and I opened up fully to the experience, finding myself physically able to do more than I initially ever imagined.

As the class came to an end, the yogini silently moved between us in the class and spent some time with her hands on the two energy points of my forehead and the centre of my chest, gently telling me it was safe to let go of whatever it was I was carrying that was causing harm to me. She gently guided me through a release of negative energy from me . And as my mind and body came to a moment of completeness, I physically felt the biggest pressure ease away from me. A pressure I wasn’t even entirely sure I had been carrying the weight of. As the class drew to a close, we gently arrived back in the room and became more aware of our surroundings. It was only then that I realized I must have been crying, with no awareness of it at the time. Such was the gentle yet powerful nature of the experience, I had released heaviness from myself without even knowing it was happening, or knowing I had any I wanted or needed to let go of. The class experience has stayed strongly with me, and has since ignited bright and fresh interest in yoga as a potential new avenue for myself and in turn for Liberty’s of the future. Watch this space, as they say!

I am not suggesting that yoga can work for everyone. We are not all constructed the same way, which is a complexly beautiful element of the life I’m so interested in. My aim within Liberty’s is certainly not to force-feed all I have learnt to the unknowing visitors of the centre. Quite the opposite! I am simply travelling as far and wide as I can within the life I have been given. I am doing so in order to learn as much as I can about both arts and wellness to be best equipped to appreciate the needs, desires and interests of anyone who may cross it’s doorway. In whatever mode or area of arts or wellness they are looking to explore. This is what I believe in, and all I am being in these current years. From there, it is the Liberty’s concept that will guide the journey path forwards.

I am interested to know how you are today. I receive many e-mails and messages from amazingly loyal readers of this blog most days and I would love to hear what wellness means to you, or what it has meant to you previously. What period of your life have you felt the most circularly well? What single element can bring a sense of wellness to you, on any given day? Please feel free to get in touch and let me know your thoughts!

My next entry is due to be a very significant one, both in terms of announcement and for the path of Liberty's from this point. I look forward to sharing it with you, but until then have a fantastic month of wellness!

Helen Victoria.

X.