Serendipitous Sentiments

Inspiration: The Choreographer of Our Lives

2011-04-03T16:42:00.000-07:00

Today I shared my first writing assignment for my inspirational writing class and received great support for my work. My instructor and my peers told me that my short story seemed like it could be developed into a novel. I had a look of fear on my face as I explained, "But I'm so inexperienced." I thought to myself, what a daunting project, to write a novel. I hadn't even written fiction before. My instructor suggested that I either write a memoir or a novel in the third person, weaving fiction into my life. Wow. I was just hoping to write an article worth publishing, but they were encouraging me to write a book. It felt great to receive confirmation that I had something valuable to say. And when my instructor said, "You have a gift for crafting a story," I felt so inspired to reach beyond my limited self-perception. I had confidence as an academic writer, and maybe even an inspirational essayist, but a story teller? I always thought that writing a novel or a fictional story was way too complex and foreign for me. After all, I didn't have a degree in creative writing or literature, so what did I know about story telling? And how could I plot out the entire story in advance?

But it was something that my instructor, Billye Johnson, told me on the first day of class that liberated me. She said, "It's like crafting an Afghan [dress]. You design each little square individually, and then sew all of them together." Likewise, she explained, you can write about particular moments in your life and then find a way to weave them together. Somehow, that simple analogy freed me to write. I didn't have to know how the story would end before I continued writing; I just had to start. I felt so free to let my creative urges dance with abandon. Suddenly, I could enjoy the creative process and liberate my desire to tell my story.

One of my classmates shared her writing, a very moving piece, and then explained how she had originally intended to focus on a different aspect of that story. Billye remarked, “Oftentimes you may start out writing about one thing, but then your muse may take you somewhere else.”
The funny thing is that I always took the Afghan approach in many other aspects of my life, especially when I would choreograph a dance. I would just let the music slip inside me, like a welcome breeze on a muggy summer's day. I let it move me, inspire me, and surprise me, without worrying about the final outcome. This approach always works best, for when I try to conceptualize too much of the choreography rather than letting inspiration guide me, it may look beautiful, but when I dance it, it may not express what the music makes me feel. And when the feeling is gone, all is lost--for the audience and dancer alike.

I wonder what else we could learn from applying this approach to other aspects of our lives. Maybe we just need to start with one Afghan square, one story, one step, and allow the music of life to guide us toward our next step. Because when we think we know the whole dance in advance, who we'll marry, when and how we'll become parents, what we'll study, where we'll work, and where and for whom we will live our lives, our muse will oftentimes take us somewhere else. Maybe this is the magic of life rather than its curse. For how exciting would it all be, and how much would we learn, if we knew in advance where and how the story would end?

The Happiness Project

2011-03-18T00:59:00.000-07:00

Thursday, March 18, 2011

I began reading The Happiness Project while flying from Dallas to San Francisco last Tuesday. Since 2008, a series of life events including getting married, completing graduate school, working to establish my career, and relocating to another state, kept me so busy that I temporarily abandoned a lifelong practice of reading spiritual literature and heeding my inner voice. Reading The Happiness Project was one step towards reawakening my most essential self. Midway through chapter three, I decided that I should start designing my own happiness project before I continue on, otherwise it will be one more item collecting dust in the treasure chest of life ambitions and childhood dreams. One dream, in particular, has been reinvigorated, my plan to "one day" write an inspirational book that centers on believing in oneself and following one's inner voice.

My intention is to spend one year focused on the practice of being present and write a book about the challenges, insights, and inner growth that develop as a result of this year long meditation in presence. In doing this, my hope is to feel more fully aware and passionately involved in life, live a life that is more aligned with my core values, develop deeper emotional and spiritual relationships, contribute to the well-being of humanity, and utilize my life to do what God intended. For many years, I've had a strong internal drive to help others live more fulfilling lives by believing in themselves, recognizing their gifts, hearing their inner wisdom, living in alignment with their values, and honoring their duty to aid humankind. This, without a doubt, is my life purpose, one that has revealed itself in my desire to encourage others to strive for a more fulfilling life, my desire to alleviate suffering, my desire to increase self-confidence, my desire to increase human dignity, and my desire to see others live a life of meaning. It's revealed by my fascination with reading psychological and spiritual literature and my passion for personal growth.

To honor my own dream, on the first day of spring, March 20th, I will begin a year long meditation in presence and write a book about my daily insights during this amazing year of spiritual renewal and personal growth.

To new beginnings and the pursuit of life-long dreams!

I hope you are inspired to pursue a goal of your own on this very same day.

Please share your journey with me.

The Egyptian Revolution: A Triumph for Human Freedom & Dignity

2011-02-11T17:44:00.000-08:00

Today Hosni Mubarak resigned from his three decade presidency over Egypt. I first heard about it in a meeting at work, but I was skeptical about the truth of this comment, only because the day before I had heard that Mubarak had claimed to resign and then later stated that he was only handing over some of his duties to his newly elected vice president. But after the meeting, I was listening to NPR on my way home and discovered that Mubarak had indeed resigned. I was overcome with joy for all the people who had suffered under his regime, for a country of people who managed to keep on going in the face of so much economic hopelessness and political oppression. But most of all, I was greatly inspired by their determination to run Mubarak out of their country even when it meant risking imprisonment, injury, and even death. They reached the point of no return, accepting that sometimes, as humans, we must risk everything to be free and live with dignity. So it was all of this admiration and joy I felt for the Egyptian people that brought me to tears while listening to the news on my way home.

The Egyptian revolution somehow managed to grab a hold of me in a deeply inspiring way. I was so moved by their willingness to risk everything to be free. They collectively symbolized the human spirit and its desire to live and breathe, to proclaim its worth and its presence despite all odds.

I pray that God strengthens my own spirit, so that my life serves to help others who struggle to attain freedom and dignity, whether they seek liberation from circumstances which are external, such as social, political, or economic oppression, or internal, such as emotional and mental suffering. In the end, we all desire to live healthy, prosperous lives. And it is our destiny to purse these dreams. God willing, we will all find our own path to a life of freedom and dignity.

Thank you for your inspiration, dear people of Egypt.

Video of today's prayer in Tahrir Square before Mubarak's resignation.

Finding Peace

2010-10-22T22:35:00.000-07:00

I'm at this strange place in my life where peace seems to come and go in the most unpredictable manner. I have been highly stressed in the past few months because I moved to another state and began a new job working overtime - as in all day, 7 days a week. The adjustment process for the first two months was extremely stressful, but now things are going a little smoother since I have developed a certain rhythm and familiarity with my new job and environment, and I'm getting used to being far from home, family, and friends. However, I feel quite isolated. I haven't set up a support system or feel good pastimes - since I don't really know anyone and I haven't had the time to invest in such activities.

This frustrating predicament has left me with no recourse other than to reach inside for comfort and peace of mind when I'm feeling alone, stressed, or desperate for some sort of diversion. All I can really do is reach inside and search for an inner stillness to give myself a sense of peace and sanity. For there are no nature spots where I can relax and take in the beauty - at least no one can tell me of any.

An unexpected blessing resulted from all of this frustration, boredom, and loneliness. I decided that this was a test of my faith in God and my faith in trusting that I'm right where I'm supposed to be. I realized that I had no friends, pastimes, favorite places or pleasant routines to change my mood, lift my spirits, or distract me when I was feeling down. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do. No escape. No excitement. Nothing.

It was just me, myself, and I. And a lot of work, work, and more work. I realized that I had to make peace with the situation -- at least for the time being -- till the semester ended. Then I would have time to pursue things like tango lessons, writing, photography or art classes, and I'd have time to explore my new city and discover its hidden treasures and beautiful people. But until then, there was no time for all the things that make me happy. Not even time for therapeutic journaling and writing, besides, I was too exhausted.

To keep myself sane, I tried to find most of my joy while teaching. For at least then I was having some human interactions rather than just grading and prepping at home. And I must say that I've had some quite enjoyable moments with my students.

But what was really interesting about this whole experience was that, having nowhere to turn for excitement and fun, I had to silence my personality in some way. And through this silence, my soul spoke. There was no one to talk to about dance, art, psychology, spirituality, astrology, dreams, and life goals. My husband (who also works 7 days a week) and I were way too tired for anything other than dinner, a movie, and bed. And even when we wanted to take a break, we couldn't seem to find anything to do. No Balboa Park, no coastline, no mountains. I was lost without my home.

But somehow this nothingness opened the door to my soul. I lost connection with all that I knew and had no social circle or pastimes. So there was nothing left but the soul. It was as if I lost my social life and hyperactive thoughts and plans. I almost wondered what was left of me; where was I without all these mental and social constructs that I seemed to be comprised of?

My soul came forth during my exile into nothingness, and increasingly, I've noticed that those things which I value most are coming to the forefront in my life: my desire to make a difference in the world, to help others, and to live a life based on my values. I've become more compassionate, and there is nothing greater to which I can aspire. I've begun to see everything in a more holistic manner, and finally, I'm able to enjoy the forest, rather than the trees, for longer periods of time. I'm trying to find some semblance of balance despite my work schedule. In fact, this experience has forced me to look more closely at how I spend my time. How useful and healing is it to me? And how best can I manage my time so that it is good for me and others as well? And I'm now feeling my purpose without intellectualizing it all the time. My purpose as a healer is starting to reveal itself throughout more domains of my life -- rather than just when I'm in more intimate or familiar settings. The healer in me is speaking when I'm helping students or even talking to people in the grocery store. It's like this energy that just releases itself as naturally as an exhale.

I suppose I always had this energy before, but I didnt' feel it so clearly because of my overactive mind and personality. But for now, I'm out of my head and operating from a more grounded place. And what a beautiful place this is for me.

Relocation Road Trip 2010

2010-08-16T12:53:00.000-07:00

It had been way too long since I’ve taken a road trip, so I had forgotten how bizarre the whole experience can be. That was until after driving from San Diego to some desolate road in Arizona alongside the Interstate 8, we stopped for gas around 11:00 pm. My dinner options, Taco Bell or McDonald's. I should have opted for the former because when I bit into my Filet-O-Fish, I burned my tongue with some boiling hot water, oil, or some combination thereof, seeping from my filet. After “dinner” it was time to find a rest stop or a motel. We opted for a motel on the belief that it may be safer, albeit possibly more disgusting, than sleeping in the budget truck.

Knight Motel

As we arrived at Knight Motel, I grew excited about being able to actually lie down on a bed. In the lobby, we were greeted by a simple gentleman who seemed surprisingly pleasant and genuinely happy. We went to our dirty little room and got ready for bed, whereupon I turned down the bed to reveal the dirty-brown pilled underside of the comforter. I was so tired that I just tried to cover it up with the bed sheet and block out the nastiness of the room. But then Tamer pulled back the sheets and shouted, “Look, a roach!” Near blind without my contacts, I leaned forward and saw something dark against the white bed sheet. “Are you sure it’s a roach?” I replied in exhaustion as I examined it. “It looks like a roach, and look he’s moving,” replied Tamer. “Oh, it’s a beetle or something else,” I concluded and lay back down. My normal reaction would have been to scream at the top of my lungs and jump out of bed. But I was too tired, and there was no escape from the creepy motel.

Just after we settled into bed, I hear “ooooaaaahhhhhkk, ooooaaaahhhhkkkk,” so loud that it sounds like it’s coming from our room. She doesn’t stop saying what sounds like “oak,” and I keep waiting to hear, “walnuuuut, piiiiine, sycamoooooore, willooooooooooow.” But she apparently pines for the oaks alone. Just when I think her love frenzy is about to end, she starts up again, “oaaaaahhhhk, ooooaaaaaahhhhhkk, oooaaahhkk.” We can hear all kinds of loud talking, television, moaning, and drum like sounds coming from the neighboring rooms and wonder if we’d have a better chance of getting some shuteye in the truck. Finally, my husband calls the receptionist from his cell phone because there is no phone in our room, and requests a room with no neighboring occupants. We finally get some sleep and the next morning Tamer goes to turn on the shower on when the faucet pops off and water comes shooting straight out of a rusty pipe. Meanwhile, I’m brushing my teeth when I notice the sticker on the mirror that reads, “Towels are expensive. Please do not steal our towels. If any towels are missing, your account will be charged so that we may replace them.”

We finally make it out of Knight Motel and hit the road. All the while, my skin is dry and red from the sun. I’m having some kind of allergy that is causing my eyes to feel like they’re on fire, and my contacts feel like egg shells scraping against my eyes. On the road, I frequent disgusting gas station restrooms, none of which prepare me for the nightmare: the rest stop.

Entomophobia

When we realize that we’ll be arriving to our destination a day later than we had hoped, my husband decides to stop in a trucker rest stop and sleep for just a few hours before continuing on. I get excited to relieve my small bladder, wash my face, and brush my teeth. I rush into the bathroom only to discover that West Texas is home to a million varieties of flying, jumping crunchy bugs that are swarming all over the dim light on the wall above the toilet stalls. The bugs are everywhere. They are covering the floor, the walls inside the stalls, the doors, and many are airborne. I’m totally screwed because there is no way I’m going to hold my pee all night and there is no way I can lock myself into a stall with bugs surrounding me while I pee. They could potentially jump on me while I’m in midstream. Then what would I do? I’d go into a panic. I felt like I was being forced into aversion therapy to overcome my phobia of insects. I left the bathroom to tell my husband about the problem. I considered peeing outside behind the bathroom. But who was to say the bugs wouldn’t assault me, without warning, in the dark? And what about the truck drivers and other rest stop visitors? They might see me. And some of them looked like Jack Nicholson from The Shining. I decided to go back into the bathroom and confront the bugs. I noticed that the ones in the stall were fairly still. Maybe they wouldn’t move while I was peeing. Then I noticed two little girls who were leaving a stall. So I asked them, “You went in there? What about the bugs? They didn’t jump on you?” The girl looked at me like I was crazy and said, “No.” Well if they could do it, so could I. I tried kicking a few of them out of the stall. And I tried to hit a few with toilet paper, and they didn’t budge, so I figured they’d stay put while I peed motionlessly. I went in and shut the door without locking it, in case I needed to make a quick getaway, and also because I felt less psychologically disturbed knowing that I wasn’t locking myself into a small enclosure with bugs. Well, I did my thing, they left me alone, and I confronted one of my worst fears and lived to tell about it.

Transcendental Love

2010-08-13T23:56:00.000-07:00

Whenever I feel the need for inspiration, I listen to Eric Butterworth's lecture, A Commitment to Love. He asserts, like most metaphysical teachers, that our ability to feel love depends on our connection to the source. Thus, most of us are perpetually frustrated by our persistent desire to seek love from an external source, namely, from other people.

When we are feeling whole and connected to God's love, we emanate a light that touches and inspires all. Yet when we lose touch with this source, we oftentimes begin to further frustrate our connection by desperately seeking love from other people. Love is not a commodity, and, thus, despite our most sincere efforts, love can never be gained, earned, or acquired from others.

Therefore, instead of searching for love, we can reconnect with God's ever-present love, and it is then that we become a beacon for others. We can then share this experience of being present, as a witness to God's love, with others. And our awareness of this eternal, all encompassing love will inspire others to awaken.

This is why spiritual teachers and healers like Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Eckhart Tolle, and the Dalai Lama have a healing effect others. They are so firmly connected to God's love that we feel uplifted when in their presence. However, their role is not to continually supply us with this healing love, so that we are dependent on their presence to feel at peace, but to inspire us to awaken to God's love, which is available to all of us in each and every moment. This is why they are healers; for they are here to remind us that we too can reconnect with this abundant flow of love and reclaim an internal sense of peace.

Maybe you are alone right now or frightened. Maybe you are in a relationship characterized by misunderstandings and loneliness. Or maybe you feel you have no close friends. This would be the best opportunity for you remember that divine love is what we all really seek.

When you reach out to your spouse, girlfriend or boyfriend, to a potential love interest, or even for the attention of others, you are really reaching out for love. Your needs are valid and real, but your efforts are misdirected. And this is why most everyone feels so frustrated in love. We waste untold effort in trying to corral the attention, desire, approval, and affection of others so that we feel loved. But so long as we try to distill love from others, either by claiming that they owe it to us for all we have done, or that it's their duty as our partners, or by manipulating their emotions or desires, we will feel an eternal sense of dependence and frustration.

Most often we end up destroying our relationships because we hold our partners responsible for our sense of completion, our sense of being special, valid, and loved. Yet it is nobody's responsibility to make us feel love. In a sense, we can't even really feel and appreciate love until we can experience it from the original source.

When we are connected to God's love, we feel the sense of wholeness, the sense of peace and completion that we so often seek from our partners, our status, and our accomplishments in the material world.

If you are awake to the joy of being alive in the presence of divine love, then you can share this experience with others who are also awake. And you can serve as a catalyst for many others who feel a spark when in your presence. And from this place, there is hope for your love relationships to become transcendental. That is, your relationships are no longer based on a bartering system but instead become rooted in divine love and spiritual growth. And when this happens, you no longer feel you need anything from anyone, for you feel complete from within.

Going Home

2010-07-28T22:27:00.000-07:00

Finally, I feel like I'm going home. Other than the time I've spent with my loved ones, I've felt so resistant to being in San Diego ever since I came back from Dallas. I'm not sure why - I mean it's not like San Diego is some horrible place, and it's been home for all my life. When I arrived here at the start of July, I knew I'd be leaving at the end of the month, yet I couldn't wait to return to Texas. Every day seemed like an eternity.

I guess something clicked when I went to Dallas; I felt calmer, and I felt a warmth from the people that I found quite comforting. Turns out that Dallas feels more like home than San Diego. It's most likely due to the fact that it's on my Jupiter line and the fact that Texans are warm and down to earth. They have manners and they're affectionate! I thought I had to travel abroad to find these qualities, but turns out I only had to head east a bit.

Two days left till my hubby and I haul our furniture from California to Texas. Too bad I can't take all my friends and family with me; I'm sure gonna miss them.

Dallas: Weeks 4 & 5

2010-06-30T09:35:00.000-07:00

Finally, I had the the kind of serendipitous experience I live for, the kind that says, "Keep straight ahead!" As I was driving to an interview, I crossed "Jupiter Road," -- literally, right before I arrived at my destination -- an extremely good omen considering that I came to Dallas to determine if I should move here on account of the fact that it happens to lie smack dead on my Jupiter line (which according to astrology means it's one of the most favorable places in the world for me). Then when I arrived at the college and entered the building, I was pleased to see that it was new and attractive. Next I was interviewed by an pleasantly optimistic and jovial person. She was excited about the school and very pleased with her working environment. This was just the kind of positive environment I'd love to become a part of.

Shortly thereafter, I consulted a former professor, who happens to be a Texan, to ask for information on universities in the Dallas area. After researching one of the schools he mentioned, I found out that all students enrolled in the PhD program in clinical psychology "receive a Research Assistantship stipend and waiver of all tuition and fees for the first four years."

To round things off, my husband and I found a large 2 bedroom apartment at a steal of a price. It even has a "solarium," which is really a nook with a large window. In no time, it will be separated by decorative curtains and ethnic accent pieces, and, thus, transformed into my personal space for relaxation, rejuvenation, and creative inspiration.

And to seal the deal, I got offered full-time work as a college professor in Dallas starting next month.

Jupiter has definitely lived up to its reputation! Bye Bye Saturn, Hello Jupiter!

The cat's out of the bag and it's official: I'm moving to Dallas on July 31st!

Dallas: Weeks 3 & 4

2010-06-24T12:39:00.000-07:00

So I'm halfway through my fourth week in Dallas, and the temperature seems to be going up every day, which makes Dallas one of the hottest places I've ever been - not as bad as Mazatlan in the summer, when all you can do is smother yourself in bug repellent and pray the mosquitoes grow tired of you as you lie down in a pool of your own sweat - and, thankfully, nothing like Marrakech in August (aka HELL on earth!!!) But they tell me that in Dallas, during the month of August, the temperature reaches 100 degrees daily!

Aside from melting, I finally made it to the Dallas Arboretum & Botanical Garden where they have a garden inspired by tales from Peter Rabbit, with small homes, tools and clothing fit for a bunny - too cute! But I don't suggest going there, like I was crazy enough to do, when the temperature is in the mid 90s . But it seems that this is the temperature every day in the summer - so that leaves summer out. They should seriously consider shifting their hours to later in the day when the sun is less intense. I felt like a stick of melting butter when I was there.

I also went to the summer block party in the Dallas art district known as Nasher til Midnight. First my husband and I toured the Dallas Museum of Art and then the Nasher Sculpture Garden. Upon entering the garden, we saw couples and friends, embraced by the warm humid air and soft evening lighting, reclining on blankets while sipping wine and cocktails. In one corner, the Wizard of Oz played on their outdoor movie theater that descended down one floor so as to keep it from disturbing others in the park. Makeshift bars serving cocktails and treats were set up throughout the garden, along with fans blowing mist to cool the warm evening air. A great way to enjoy a romantic evening out.

Many other exciting developments occurred, which I will report later ;)

Dallas: Week 2

2010-06-13T22:29:00.000-07:00

I've been in Dallas, Texas (well Plano, actually, which is just outside of Dallas) for about two weeks, and spent this time looking for work, checking out the psychology doctoral program at the University of Northern Texas (UNT), and getting familiar with my surroundings. I've found my local cleaners, Starbucks, Whole Foods, malls, and 24 Hour Fitness, and I've gotten used to the intense sun and humidity. I've have some brief conversations with the locals, many of which are transplants from places such as California, Georgia, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York. And now that I've planted all my seeds for employment, I can begin to have more fun. This week I'll check out my first dance class and visit the Dallas Art District, the Arboretum, Botanical Gardens, and Water Gardens. But I'm most excited about visiting the Nasher Sculpture Garden. My hubby and I even bought a new camera so I can photograph the local sculptures, architecture, and gardens. I also discovered that Dallas has thriving art community and that the UNT has one of the best music programs in the nation. I can definitely see myself living here.

Week 1 on my Jupiter Line

2010-06-05T19:50:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how long it takes for one to feel the benefits of visiting or living on their Jupiter line, but during my first week visiting Dallas to see if it is in fact a benefic place for me, I have experienced a few promising signs. First, I noticed that my back pain diminished, and second I sent a letter of interest for a teaching position to a local community college and got a promising response that very afternoon! I also scheduled a meeting with the advisor for a PhD program in Counseling Psychology at the University of North Texas. Getting a doctorate in psychology has been a lifelong dream of mine that I'm finally ripe to pursue. And my love life couldn't be better. If this much can happen in one week, I wonder what else may happen in the month I have yet to spend in the glow of Jupiter's rays.

The Artist's Way: A twelve week spiritual journey through creativity

2010-05-18T23:50:00.000-07:00

Now that it's summer, I want to fully delve into The Artist's Way. Anyone want to join me? We can have an online book club. Maybe you've done this before and want to reawaken your spirit through the creative process, or maybe this is your first time. Either way, it's an exciting journey. This will be my first time, and I'd love for any of you to join me. We can help keep each other motivated to follow through on our creative projects and artist's dates.

Texas Ain't So Bad

2010-05-18T19:26:00.000-07:00

This is where I'll be spending my free time this June - relaxing in Dallas' Arboretum and Botanical Gardens while reading, studying, and prepping for my fall courses. I'm really curious to see how it feels over there, on my Jupiter line. I can't wait to document my experience and impressions of Dallas, Texas and the benefic influence of Jupiter. I'm so excited!

Nitocrisse Hotel

2009-05-28T17:01:00.000-07:00

Only after traipsing around at night on the streets of downtown Cairo with luggage in tow, after arriving by train from Alexandria, and being repeatedly turned away from nearby hotels and being scoffed at by passerbys reciting that ‘there is no strength without God’ because they think you are trying to hook up for the night, would you ever surrender yourself to a place like Nitocrisse.

The thought of fresh animal feces lying on the stairs leading to our floor seemed to take center stage in my mind, not to mention the plentiful array of feces coated in such thick layers of dust bunnies that I began to suspect they were remnants of the Pharonic era. After all, why else would they have held on to it for so long? Despite the fact that I was in the Cairo, a famous city full of historical treasures, I couldn’t stop my mind from obsessing about the fact that I was staying in a motel, if you can call it that, where I felt dirtier upon entering it than when cab hopping, dining and wandering on the streets of a city infamous for its pollution. (Sorry Cairo, I love you, but just as I love Mexico City - I still can't deny that both of you turn the inside of my nose black!)

In the Cairo Museum, my hopes began to grow upon meeting a self-appointed tour guide named Adil, who told us he could find us a nice hotel. Of course, in Egypt, you can easily find plenty of people looking to make a buck, as I’m sure you could find in any place where low employment rates force many college graduates into menial jobs. This reality first hit me when we arrived in the Cairo airport and we followed a taxi driver to his car, at which point I discovered that he wasn’t a real taxi driver, just a regular guy that stopped by the airport at midnight to make some extra cash by using his personal car to chauffeur people around.
To be continued....

Tito Workshop

2008-08-24T00:47:00.000-07:00

I'm not a big fan of dance workshops, mostly because they usually focus on choreographies, something I've always found difficult to memorize. However, I enjoyed the Tito workshop mostly because I got to see his interpretation of the dance. This was my second time taking a workshop with an Egyptian instructor, the first was with Mahmoud Reda, and I found that their movements feel much more organic than those of many western instructors. It feels a bit more like dancing than pulling out an arsenal of tricks. The footwork seems much more logical as well, even if it's challenging at times. However, Tito's dancing was mighty fast and I had a hard time keeping up, which only served to remind me of how much more I have to learn and that I need to improve my technique, strength, and stamina. Watching his performance was delightful and reminded me that incorporating personal expression and character into one's dance is just as important as good technique.