Do you remember the last time you truly felt a consistent connection to your authentic self? I know many of us have moments- mere glimpses of our true self.  In today’s  fast-paced, high-tech, keep up with the Jones’ world it seems almost impossible to tap into that authentic being.

There are many experts (like monks) that state that it is only in silence and stillness that one can get to that space. Well, I don’t know about you, but I have a 4 year old child – and silence and stillness happens in one place and one place only. No, it’s not while I am in the shower. And it’s definitely not while I am on the toilet. It’s when I am sleeping. Well, even that gets interrupted! So when?!

Right now I am calling “bullshit” on the silence/stillness only theory. Not to say that being silent and still doesn’t work. I am sure it does.

But, maybe that inner connection can also come when we are feeling inspired, passionate, on purpose, or simply by doing something we just love to do with reckless abandon.

Through much reflection and writing I can say with certainty that the last time I felt consistent connection with my internal guide, was when I was a small child. A particular memory comes to mind.

Through much reflection and writing I can say with certainty that the last time I felt consistent connection with my internal guide, was when I was a small child. A particular memory comes to mind.

I was a very energetic, free-spirited 3 year old. I was what you would call a “mover and shaker”.

To harness some of this energy, my Mother enrolled me in Dance class. I was so excited! On my first day, I wore a light pink leotard, white tights and pink dance slippers.  I was ready to get down!

As I entered the studio there were several classes going on at the same time. There was one group practicing their plié squats at the barre; another doing pirouettes across the floor;  and another group sitting on a mat singing songs and doing Patty Cake.

As my mother walked me over to where my age group was, I quickly realized I wouldn’t be joining the girls at the barre or doing pirouettes across the dance floor. I was about to join the patty cake group. ” Oh hell’s no!”  My mother kissed me goodbye and left me sitting with a bunch of 3 year old girls singing “Baby Face”. You know how it goes- Baby face, you’ve got the cutest little baby face. There’s not another who can take your place. ..

I was stuck in patty cake hell. I had enough. I stood up and told my teacher ” This is not dancing!”

I gave this a go for a few minutes thinking that perhaps this was just the teacher’s way to warm us up and get used to following instruction. Nope. I was stuck in patty cake hell. I had enough. I stood up and told my teacher ” This is not dancing!” I then proceeded to pirouette across the dance floor toward the barre where I practiced my squats with the older girls.

My teacher retrieved me from the barre and brought me back to my group on the mat. A few more minutes passed before I sneaked off to join the older girls who were dancing. After an hour of this exchange, class ended and my mother came to pick me up. The teacher informed her of my shenanigans.

As we drove home, both feeling disappointed about how “dance” class went, my mother suggested we go to Hanson’s to pick out a tutu for dance class.  A tutu?! I never had a tutu before!

A few days later we went to the store. They had a little room where all the tutus were hung high out of the reach of little hands.  I picked out the perfect purple tutu. Then my mother dropped the bribe bomb. “Okay Jessica, you can get this tutu if your teacher tells me you behaved in class.”

Now, I could describe what happened during the next two classes I attended; but I am pretty sure you can imagine how those went down. When my mother returned to pick me up after my third class, my teacher met her at the front door holding my hand with a very visible pulsating vein in her forehead. They quietly exchanged words in the corner. I was given the boot! I never did get that tutu. And to this day, that is still one of my proudest moments.

My mother was obviously upset on the ride home. She said, “Jessica Lynne, why couldn’t you just do what you were told like the other kids?”  “You cannot take another dance class until you are old enough to follow the rules.”  I cried, “But, Mama I just wanna dance!”

So that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t need lessons to dance! So I danced everywhere; even in my roller skates. And let me tell you, I could do a mean moonwalk in my roller skates! Dancing just felt right to me. I felt so happy and in the moment dancing.

I even have had the awesome opportunity to be the chiropractor for the So You Think You Can Dance and Dancing With The Stars tours.

I did eventually return to dance lessons at the age of eleven; and continued to take classes throughout high school. I was an assistant dance instructor at my studio for two years; and was accepted into college as a theater/dance major. I was awarded a small scholarship for a dance routine I choreographed my senior year of high school that covered the cost of all my books freshman year of college. I even have had the awesome opportunity to be the chiropractor for the So You Think You Can Dance and Dancing With The Stars tours.

Unfortunately, the summer before my senior year of high school I sustained a severe avulsion fracture of my right heel that required a bone graft surgery 18 months later. Because I was on crutches periodically for close to two years, I had to drop my theater/dance major. This would be yet another, in a series of Universal nudges toward my future in Chiropractic.

Nowadays, I have 4 year old son who was labeled a “mover and shaker” by his teacher on his very first day of daycare a couple years ago. Just today, we were in the kitchen listening to Bob Marley as our cookies baked in the oven and he just started grooving out.  Watching him spontaneously break out dancing is so dear to me, because I know he is so in tune with his authentic self.

I am beyond grateful for these moments. Because these are the moments where my son teaches me to remember. And through remembering and rediscovering- I heal.

I am beyond grateful for these moments. Because these are the moments where my son teaches me to remember. And through remembering and rediscovering- I heal.

So, I know you are probably just dying to know about the picture attached to this post. It is me at the age of 8 at a family party doing my best Michael Jackson moves while my cousins and brother looked on. You can tell by their faces that they were not very amused.

But I was.

Love, Joy, Truth, Gratitude-

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