thinking vs. doing: carolyn's story of transformation through dance

If dance is a mirror for life - which I happen to believe to be true - then one of the things I’ve learned is that you have to start moving your body if you want to make stuff happen. You can’t just think things into reality.

If you’ve ever learned about vision boards and the Law of Attraction, you might be familiar with the concept of visualizing things in an effort to manifest them in your life. For example, you want to make more money so you visualize your bank account with more money in it every day until it happens.

That’s kind of a simplified version, and I’m sure there are Law of Attraction experts who can give you more details, but you get the gist.

If you take it a step further, you might have learned that just visualizing things isn’t enough. You have to FEEL them to make them happen. Thanks to the work of Danielle LaPorte and her Desire Map, we see how this is possible.

What if there were a third layer?

The movement layer. The dance layer. The move-it-through-your-body-til-you-lose-your-mind layer.

I’m really interested in that layer.

The more I’ve challenged myself to get out there and dance - anyplace, anywhere, but also just in the privacy of my room - the more I’ve felt confident to take actions in other areas of my life. I’ve seen this to be true with my clients, too.

Don’t just visualize what you want. Feel it in your body, and then move it through your body. Dance it out. Let ‘er rip.

In a moment you’ll hear more from my client Carolyn, who just completed the Thriving Artist’s Program with me. In 9 months she went from “living a life paved by others” to stepping into her truth and full expression as a dancer, choreographer, and coach. So much of our process together was helping her break through the crap that was in the way of her taking action. Step by step, dance by dance, her life took on the shape of what was inside of her.

I want the same for you. I want you to dance into your truth and stop getting caught up in your head. This is how we’ll collectively make a positive impact on this planet.

If you happen to be in the NYC area, I’m teaching classes and workshops that you can join - a perfect way to get that action flowing! You can also check out Carolyn’s classes on the West Coast!

So continue reading to check out Carolyn’s Showcase interview and dance video and share in the comments below how it inspires you to take action with your own dreams and passions.

through the body and into the world,

Jess

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Thriving Artists Program Showcase, featuring:

Marie Carolyn Gatus, Dancer/Choreographer, Life Coach

Learn more about Carolyn's work here at her website and check out her Meetup Group: Movement Reflective

“I feel so much more connected to Who I Am and am a thousand times more clear in expressing my truth.”

Before working with Jess, I was struggling with allowing my creativity to flow.  I wasn't even acknowledging that I was creative at all.  I was suppressing it consciously and unconsciously always being too busy or feeling like it wasn't important enough to give time for.  I was living a life paved by others and I thought I would be living that way for the rest of my life.  And yet, my Creative Self kept calling, yearning to come out.

It had been 10 years since I danced from my heart at the time I met Jess, and it seemed like such a distant memory.

I still can't believe and yet I DO BELIEVE IT, within 9 months I choreographed 2 pieces that were near and dear to my heart and performed these two pieces in front of a supportive audience on two separate days.  I also created a Meetup group that meets every few weeks, where men and women can gather in person or virtually to express their souls through free movement dance.  I loved the fact that I was able to meld my interests in spirituality with my love of dance.  I never thought that would be possible for me, and yet it became so.

I also launched my work as a coach during the TAP program. I conducted a teleseminar which I had never done before and a class at Whole Foods that included using Movement for Beauty.  After the class, I was booked for another class and will be doing more workshops locally and online regarding the meaning of having movement in our lives.  I am also in the process of creating a course on Reflective Movement which I hope to release very soon.  It's all been such an exciting journey and has opened a whole new world of possibilities for me.  I couldn't have done it all without Jess.  I am so truly grateful.

Jess is an amazing guide.  She understood all my fears about making a living dancing, about being accepted, about being creatively stagnant, about giving value to my passion, about navigating through changes in my relationships because of choosing to live from the heart.  She has been through it and knew the exact words to say to keep me focused and creating as well as to be gentle with myself when I'm not feeling creative...to still be open to inspirations.  She understood the cycles creative artists go through and lovingly guided me through it.  I trusted her and valued her support and guidance.

Most importantly, she helped me release so much of the pain and conditioning that blocked my creative flow and challenged me to connect deeper with my feelings and voice them through my art of dancing.  I feel so much more connected to Who I Am and am a thousand times more clear in expressing my truth.  The creative well was tapped open and will forever continue to flow.

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Does Carolyn's story inspire YOU?

If so, I invite you to check out the Thriving Artist's Program and apply here. Imagine what would open up in your life if you were expressing your truth and connected to the creative well inside of you.

:)

dancing through loss, love, & everything in between

I spent Sunday with my best friend at her home in the Jersey Shore, sorting through closets full of the gorgeous, petite-sized, vintage clothes of her late mother.

When Allison’s mom, Cecilia Joy (aka Diane Leslie), passed on last August, it took everyone by surprise. The magical creative muse who seemed ageless to most had suddenly left us. I did my best to be there for my friend and help her cope through the most painful time of her life.

(You can read more of Allison and her mom’s story below.)

It happened during the final month of rehearsals for the premiere of Swan Canal, the first dance show I had ever created and choreographed, in which Allison was part of, preparing to perform for the first time in 10 years. (She is a doctor by day, dancer by night :) ).

Allison took her mother’s mantra of “The Show Must Go On,” and decided to continue rehearsing and perform with us.

As painful as it was for her - for many reasons - she also recognized how extremely important it was to continue dancing through it.

Allison told me a couple of months ago that one night in her living room, she had started choreographing a dance.

It worked through her complicated relationship with her mother, and despite all the therapy she had been engaged in, this seemingly simple act was incredibly healing and transformative. She asked if I would help her develop the piece and bring it to a performance space. I said yes, of course.

And so on our drive back from Jersey, the backseat full of salvaged furs and floral print dresses, we talked more about that process and I got the nudge from the universe that it was time to make this an experience that more people could benefit from.

And such was birthed:

MOVE.through.IT:

a dance lab for creating through loss, love, & everything in between

Over the years, I’ve worked with many clients who have dealt with the loss of loved ones  in the past, and I’ve seen how so often unresolved relationships cause blocks in their experience of full creative expression and happiness today. I’ve witnessed clients start dance companies, start singing again, and get on stage for the first time in years through our program together. And while the work I do is not therapy, it is the art that helps them work through these deep wounds.

So I’m creating a new dance workshop series which is for you if:

• you have a complicated or unresolved relationship that you sense is weighing on you, such as: you’ve lost a loved one, lost your home, stopped talking to your mother, broke up or got divorced, etc,
• you identify as a dancer - even if it’s been years since you’ve actually danced
• you sense that self-expression through dance and creating a movement piece are what your heart and soul are craving right now.

Click here for more details on the 2 upcoming intro classes in NYC and NJ.

If you are not in the area but still interested, send me a note, because there are other ways we can work together in this capacity. 

I'm curious to know -

Has creative expression ever helped YOU cope with a loss?

I encourage you to share your story in the comments below.

And, I’ll leave you with a beautiful piece written by Allison in honor of her mother and their dance through this lifetime. The pictures and music alone are worth a thousand words…

all love,

Jess

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From Allison:

My mother was the epitome of creativity. She devoted herself to creativity, to art, to expression.

She was born with perfect pitch, which my grandparents, Ida and Norman, realized when my Mom – born Cecelia Joy Notov on November 26 - was just five years old. She never forgot to remind me about it. “Did you know that’s in D flat minor?” she’d say when I was 12 and we’d watch old black and white movies over ice cream sundaes on Saturday nights (which I’d label with “A” for Allison and “M” for “Mom” in Hershey’s syrup) and listen to the orchestrations accompanying the credits. I had no idea it was D flat minor. My pitch is relative at best.

By the age of 14, Mom was a soloist with the Pittsburgh Symphony, playing the Grieg Concerto to a sold out audience at Heinz Hall. By 17, she was booked on dates in NYC, Canada, and cruise ships as a concert pianist, singer, performer….a creative genius. She was “Cee Cee Joy,” the newest sensation from Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh. And she was GORGEOUS.

Soon after, she moved to NYC and took a stage name – “DIANE LESLIE” – less Jewish, she was told. But in recent years, just 8 months ago in fact, in summer 2014, she told me she wanted to go back, “I think I’ll be more successful as Cecelia, what do you think?” (Notably, when I was 6 and got my first professional gig on stage with the Dallas/Fort Worth Ballet I was given the stage name “Allison Joyce” and kept it throughout my dancing career. Perhaps I should go back?).

After college at NYU where she studied Music Education, Mom made it big as a concert pianist, singer, composer, actress, and TV anchor in NYC.  And lucky for her, she met her prince charming (and the most amazing dad in the world) in a recording studio, where she was recording a hit for Warner Brothers Records, and he was heading up the music department. As she tells it, she saw my father and told her best girlfriend, “that’s the man I’m going to marry.” And so she did.

Over the course of her career, Mom concertized across the world, Alice Tully Hall, Heinz Hall, Steinway Hall, the list is endless. She wrote music for stage and screen. She was a creative director behind and television anchor for the News Center 4 show, “Kids Stuff” for years. She wrote the theme song to the show Small Wonder.  She played the “Snow Queen” on ABC’s Pinocchio’s Christmas. She played guitar. She sang. And excuse my language, she played the F*** out of the piano. There was no piece that she couldn’t master. Greig concerto? Done. Layenda? Got it.

And composition? She composed her own music. And she was creative with the works already out there. She took all of Schubert and made his themes modern. Bach? Scarlatti? Brahms? All of them. She was dear friends with Helga Sandburg – the daughter of the great poet, Carl Sandburg – and months before her passing put all of his poems to music (an album I am confident is going to sell, just like her first album, which can be found here: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/dianeleslie ).

But, like most artists, Mom also struggled.

The career is not an easy one, especially as you age. “What’s my age range?” was a daily question. She wanted to be eternally her 17 year old self. And I believe she is at this very moment.

My Mom was on the adjunct faculty at NYU, teaching piano to students worldwide. She was also my first and most difficult piano teacher. Most importantly and dear to her heart, she was named a Steinway Artist in 2010. The title allowed her to go to Steinway Hall weekly and practice the piano in her beloved Rachmaninoff room, as it was called (interestingly, the Hall closed a month after my mom left this space-time).

My mother was a musical genius. She never really learned to use a computer keyboard, but made up for it on the real keys. She never really learned to manage her finances, but she could somehow understand the math behind the rhythm of the music.

A month before she left, she told me “If I cannot play the piano, I don’t want to live.” Her death was untimely. Unnecessary. Unfair. It had nothing to do with her capacity to play. She died while getting ready for a gig, putting her makeup on. She wanted to go to the studio. I know with all of my heart that she did NOT want to leave. She yearns to still be at her baby grand, playing the F out of those keys.

Professionally – as Dr. Applebaum, and not Allison Joyce – I work with families dealing with chronic illness and the possibility of death and dying. But sudden, untimely death is a different beast. On a scale from 1 – 10, with 10 being the worst emotional pain one can feel, I’d say this was a good 5,000 for me, and still is. The world lost a creative genius, a good 20 years too early. But much more importantly, I lost my Mom.

My Mom left at the worst moment in our relationship. The days of ice cream sundaes were long gone in August 2014. But they didn’t have to be. I wish I could have been more creative emotionally, to allow more of the good to remain when other things were hard. I don’t have one recorded voicemail from her. No recorded conversation. And most devastating, no recording of her annual happy birthday message to me, which would be her classical rendition of the Happy Birthday song, played loud and clear on her Steinway baby grand, after which she’d say “Happy Birthday, Baby.” I’ll never forgive myself for erasing that last message. While I don’t have a verbal conversation between Mom and myself recorded, I do have a recording of our playing the Schubert Fantasie in F minor. I was about 14. We were recording it for my grandma Ida to hear. I played the bass and she, the treble. We were a bit off, she was showing off, I was trying to keep up. A musical conversation, perhaps resembling our life-long relationship.

We never know when we will leave this world. We can anticipate it for years,  fear it for years, prepare for it for years, but in cases like mine, my 93 year old frail father is still with me, and my “forever 17” mother is gone. Much too soon. What I’m left with is her music. Her CD’s. Hundreds of them. Recordings of every one of her piano lessons. Recordings of her in the studios. The musicals she composed. Her unpublished work. Literally hundreds of notebooks with sheets with the letters “a” “d” “g” and so on written (my mother wasn’t one for writing notes on the musical staff). Beautiful songs the world may never hear.

I’m hoping to use creativity to help me cope with the vast emptiness left by my (incidentally just 5’1 and 92 lb) mother’s absence. She left on August 25, 2014. Two weeks after her passing I got back on stage and danced for the first time in 10 years. It felt awful and wonderful. It felt deceitful and right. And I’m getting back on stage this coming month. Always and forever in honor of my Mom. I also have promised her and myself that I am going to learn Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu. I’ve started working on it on her Steinway baby grand. It’s like re-learning a language I learned years ago. Doing it is frustrating and painful, but connects me to her. I want to learn it. And I want play the F out of those keys like she did. Perhaps even someday to a small audience.

I’ve also promised myself to be more creative, generally. To create new spaces for me to express what is so painful. To be more creative in the work I do professionally, and more creative in how I care for myself.

Clearly, nothing is for sure in life. What I do know for sure is that there is no amount of creativity that can bring our deceased loved ones back. But creativity can bring the possibility of good things to accompany – note, not fill – the void. I’m looking forward to a creative life. To telling my closest girlfriends about my prince charming, and to engaging in the greatest creative act when I’m ready – to create a new life, and hopefully have a daughter, who will be named Cecelia Joy, after her grandmother.

Until those happy days, I will do what I know is healthiest and most painful: listen to her music, cry as she plays, and create a new way of life. Learn to get off the elevator and not hear her playing down the hall, not have her millions of once-bothersome texts and calls, but somehow learn that she’s sitting with me, leaning on my shoulder, living my life with me, in her own new creative way.

in honor of vday: why i dance

Today’s post couldn’t be forced. I tried many times earlier this week to write something in honor of love, sexuality, and creativity as we approach Valentine’s Day tomorrow.  

I waited and waited but it wasn’t ready to emerge.

And then I found myself last night in a brick-walled warehouse, surrounded by people I didn’t know and flooded with music, poetry and stories that somehow knew me. It was the launch party of a film called Why I Dance.

I was moved to tears.

And I realized why today’s post wasn’t ready until it was ready.

So, what I’ll share with you today is a poem I wrote, inspired by the experience, and a quick note of encouragement:

Be patient with your own emergence.

Trust the movement inside of you.

Let go of force and let yourself dance.

Your body is sacred, so treat her that way.

In honor of Vday tomorrow, I encourage you to watch the film, find a movement near you and if there isn’t one, create your own.

Love yourself today and always,

Jess

(a poem in honor of Vday, inspired by the women of the #whyidance film)

why I dance

to shake off the clouds that keep me from myself

to shake off the times I said yes when I really meant no

to let go

to grieve

to feel joy

to feel free

to feel myself as a source of my own pleasure

I dance

for reasons I don’t fully understand yet

for all that I don’t yet know about my body

for all that I crave to understand

to connect to what women always knew before it felt unsafe

I dance

for the pain we’ve been through

I dance

for the uprising in progress

I dance

so that the young bodies after me

can dance freely if they choose

I dance

I dance

I dance

Let’s dance this VDay and always.

One step at a time we can reclaim our lost parts and create an uprising inside us all – women, men, and children. 

If you feel inspired, share your reasons for dancing below. I'd love to hear. 

the work you resist most is the work you’re meant to do

It’s not necessarily what you do all day long that makes you an artist.

Most of us have “normal people duties” to attend to like food shopping, laundry, work, paying the bills, doctors appointments, kid stuff…. you get the point.

It’s what you do in the precious windows of time that you do have to yourself.

It’s the act of actually making time for yourself.

That’s what makes you an artist.

If you wish you could start dancing more, paint again, or begin that novel you’ve been dreaming up, take a look at what you’re doing on a daily basis.

Are you scrolling through your Facebook feed instead of submitting your work to an art festival?

Are you playing around with website themes instead of actually writing a blog post?

Are you organizing your files instead of picking up the phone and reaching out to a potential client?

Are you _________(Z)_________ instead of _________(A)__________ ?

Fill in the blanks with (Z), the task you don’t really need to do, and (A), the task that you keep putting off . Your (A) is the thing you’re really meant to do.

Start doing it.

Easier said than done? You bet.

There’s a deeper reason you’re resisting the real work you’re meant to do. It might be fear, doubt, comparison, or another inner battle that’s silently stopping you.

And let’s face it, it’s more comfortable to NOT do that thing.

Living as an artist of any kind takes courage.

It takes a constant dance outside of your comfort zone.

It takes the risk of being laughed at or called selfish.

It takes persistence and determination.

Why put all that on the line?

You tell me your reason, but here’s mine:

NOT living as an artist feels like a cop out.

NOT living as an artist feels like I’m living a lie.

NOT living as an artist feels empty, disconnected, and kinda boring.

Deep down I know that I need to create or I’ll flatline. (tweet it)

I need to open my channels and let that force speak through me.

It’s my passion, my heart speaking, my survival.

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Tell me about you -

What are you resisting most right now?

Why do YOU feel the need to be an artist and create through your life?

Say it out loud in the comment box below and take a stand for the life you want to live.

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You need to constantly remind yourself of your Big Why, as I like to call it, or else time will keep escaping you.

because your expression matters,

Jess

p.s. Need support in getting back to your true self? Check out my coaching program here and apply. Spots are almost completely taken, so don't delay.

7 creative things to do in a snowstorm

If you're in the North East right now like me, chances are you're about to be snowed in for awhile.

(And if you're not, just pretend it's snowing outside and give yourself permission to stay in.)

Here are 7 creative things you could do while the storm rages on:

1. Refer to your busy-bored lists - or create them here - and check in with something you might want to do.
2. Use the Dance Shuffle Solution to work through a decision or question you have.
3. Do something new or different on social media.
4. Dance. In the snow or in the shower.
5. Watch dance. Did I mention that I'm obsessed with Dance Academy on Netflix? I also have made a lot of videos you can watch for fun here.
6. Write a letter: to or from your future self, to someone you haven't seen in a long time, to Santa Claus, to me.
7. Apply to the Thriving Artist’s Program. This is the last week to get in on this life-changing 6-month experience with me.

As always, this is a 2-way street, so feel free to comment below and let me know how you're doing, what you're dancing to, or what you're pondering in your creative life and beyond.

stay warm and dance on, Jess

5 steps to making aligned choices

I’ve spent so much of my life in the kinda/maybe/sort-of land, not fully committing or making decisions until it became absolutely torturous or until someone else made the decision for me.

For example -

Person: “Are you moving to LA or just visiting?”

Me: “Well, I’m kinda moving there…”

Person: “Do you want to go see this movie tonight?”

Me: “Maybe…”

It was much easier to play the confused role.

It was much easier to say “I don’t know” than it was to take a stand for SOMETHING and risk that it might not be “right” or that it might bother someone else.

The results of being in this energy?

Mixed messages. Doing one thing while thinking about something else. Never fully being IN anything. Lots of time and energy wasted on overthinking. People’s feelings = hurt.

It basically sucks.

Can you relate at all? Have you ever “kinda/maybe/sort-of”-ed your way through a situation?

If you recognize how you’ve been playing a role in keeping yourself and others stuck in this mode, I have a proposal for you.

This is my 5-step body-based formula for making a choice:

1. Think about one scenario that you’re confused on.

2. Write down the potential choices you could make within that scenario.

3. One by one, embody each of those choices by dancing and moving around to what it feels like for you.

4. Take note of what your body wants to do when you imagine each choice, and pay attention to the feelings that come up for each. Write these down next to each potential choice on your list.

5. Make a bold move to pick one of them, based on what your body is telling you.

Feel free to use this and re-use this strategy as needed.

And if it doesn’t come easy at first, that makes total sense. Be gentle with yourself, because understanding the language of your heart and body takes time. (Believe me, I’m still working on it.)

What I know for sure is this:

By getting more connected to your body, you’ll exercise your ability to literally MOVE forward in your life.

When you stop creating drama that clouds your truth, you free yourself up to create your dreams, your art, and your passions.

In other words, you truly become the creator of your life.

What would YOU be freed up to do if you actually were able to make clear-cut decisions?

Tell me, please! There’s a blank comment box below waiting to be filled by you.

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And, if you’re in the midst of making decisions or feeling stuck in transitions in your life, I invite you to join me on a 4-week journey that starts next week.

Click here to find out more and take the first step of your bold new life!

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Remember:

The answers are inside of you.

Life is inside of you.

You can create what you desire.

It is safe for you to take up space, expand and grow.

Your body is a sacred portal to your dreams.

moving with you,

jess

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