I joined a tap class! I’m really excited about it. I haven’t tapped in probably 15 years and my knowledge of tap is lacking at best. I used to teach tap and while I took tap as a young girl, I was mostly self-taught at the teaching stage of my life because I stopped at a young age and even what I learned back then I had to relearn when I started teaching.

In a recent post I mentioned how everything is touched by grief, and this is no different. I have always loved dance and as an adult after having kids I have looked for classes. I had never found one that would work for me. After I had Molly, I was really busy and honestly just loved being home with my family and loved being home when Billly was home so we can all be together. With that, I stopped trying to find one. After Huxley died, I picked up watercolor painting and I still enjoy that. I also started writing which has been so good for my emotions. Getting words down whether it be in the blog for people to read, for the book written in a hidden document online, or with pen and paper in a journal this helps me process all the things I feel. One thing I wish people understood about grief though is that it is so much more complex than “being sad for a season”. It is sad and happy and confusing and in every conversation. It is in every decision. It’s intrusive thoughts and worries and wanting to make others comfortable but feeling incapable of that and being confused/angry that the burden falls on you to do so. It is growth. It is hope. It’s everything wrapped up into every moment because our brains are changed and we have a new filter on all of life. The good, the bad, ugly, fun, uneventful and fully big and huge events.

After I signed up, I immediately felt bad about it because if Hux was here, I wouldn’t be doing this. How could I be happy about something that wouldn’t exist if he was here? Then reality again. He isn’t here and you are allowed to be happy. He isn’t here. You are allowed to be happy. Allowed to take a silly tap class and have fun. I have a few new mottos in this season. Some being “you can have fun” “you can do hard things” “their happy isn’t your sad”(that one comes in handy when jealousy sets in) and always “God, help me”. That last one I have said in a million different ways for a million different reasons. He always comes back with “you are safe”. I am safe even if everything in me and around me fails I am His and I am safe.

While I am excited just as a girl taking a new class should be, I absolutely did sign up for this because my brain is in need of some help. I said writing helps with my emotions and it does, but it doesn’t help with the brain fog or the motivation. Watercolor helps clear my mind, but it doesn’t really use my brain in a way that stretches it. My brain feels stagnant and it’s wreaking havoc on me. When I saw this tap class at the studio where my daughter dances, I started to think how fun it would be. Then I started to remember steps. Then I realized that if I joined the class, I could challenge myself in a fun way and in an old and familiar way. I need my brain to be used and I need my body to be moving. I know this doesn’t matter to really anyone except me, but I still look about 6 months pregnant and it kills me to look at myself. Not because I wish I didn’t look the way I do (although…sure I would love to shed some weight for health and feeling/looking better) but it kills me because I wish I WAS still pregnant. I would love to go back to 6 months pregnant and have him for 3 more months. He would be alive and with me. I feel a pang of guilt and shame and hurt every time I see myself in a mirror. It is failure wrapped up in me. I need my body to let go of all of this even though my heart never will. I need to challenge my brain. I need my brain to tell my body that it is okay. That I won’t forget him even if my body doesn’t look like it’s still holding him.

I don’t need a brain break I need a break from my brain.

This is going to distract me in a good way that uses my brain and keeps me working it while also stepping out of it a little. These next few months leading up to Huxley’s 2nd birthday really send me in a tizzy with questions like: am I doing enough? Is there ever enough to do? How can I make a difference while remembering him? Will I hate this idea or that one? What is the right way to celebrate? Should we be celebrating? I need a little bit of a distraction from the constant of it all.

I’ll say it again; I am so excited about going to this class. Thankful that I can move my body and use my brain and use it in a way that will help me heal a little. I am thankful for a place to share what real grief looks like because it isn’t just sad and sorrow. It isn’t just a season. It is in everything. It’s life. It’s hopeful and useful and refining. It’s in happy and joyful moments. It’s hard but can also come without trying. I will never heal from the actual “grief” of missing Huxley, but I CAN heal from physical symptoms of grief; for me its weight gain, sore muscles, sleepiness, hormones being out of whack, and brain fog. I can heal some things, and this is going to help. I have LOOKED lazy for the last year and a half but I have been anything but. Grief takes every ounce of your mind, body, and soul to get through the bare minimum of things. But now my minimum is more. I’m growing and it’s good. It is time to change some of those symptoms of grief and use them for fuel to create memories, create love, create community, and to be well. SO, I am excited for my first tap class tonight.