Who says the "American Dream" is the way to be? (part 1)
I decided to follow my heart.
Not too long ago I began practicing yoga to calm my anxiety. In New Jersey we have tons of studios, most offer a “powerflow” style. Which, as a dancer, I always appreciated. It’s in a hot room, a steady pace of movement, a little introduction to breath exercises, and a brief savasana. This is what I came to know and love.
My mind races a million miles a minute. I’m always 10 steps ahead. It’s exhausting. Powerflow to me was like ballet. You had no choice but to just keep moving, align your body, and fight through the pain and heat. This style forced me to be present. I learned to appreciate it, then I loved it, and soon enough I began to crave it.
2017 was a year that turned my life upside down.
For the longest time, I always had a firm grasp of who I really was. But my subconscious challenged me. Questions began to arise… Is this the real Cydny?
From childhood to early adulthood (the majority of my life) I was known as Cydny, “the dancer”. It took a lot of mental struggles to let go of that identity. I started an entertainment business in 2009, but so much of me tried to stay connected to the dance industry. I remember looking up auditions regularly and even going as far as scheduling them in my calendar-- knowing damn well I didn’t have the time or desire. I was transitioning from Cydny “the dancer”, to Cydny “the businesswoman”.
Eventually, I felt comfortable here, growing in confidence and truly owning this role. I progressed from my couch and a few gigs a year, to merging companies and renting an office. I was a one-man-show, then it was two, then three, then four… all the way up to eleven. Our events grew from just New Jersey to stretching across the country to California. I was becoming heavily involved in accounting, contracts, health insurance, and 401k’s. What was once a fun creative idea to keep me in the industry I adored, turned into a full-fledged corporate style company. And at first, I loved it.
I didn’t have to worry about where the money went. I bought the nice car. Splurged on me. Saved easily.
I felt powerful.
I felt accomplished.
How did little old me create such a beast?
I surprised myself and I was proud.
My schedule was jam-packed. I worked all day, every day. I took my work home with me. I made the impossible happen.
I cried a lot.
I was being pulled in every direction.
I lost my balance.
I didn’t have time for life.
But I kept my head down and worked towards the prize.
The American Dream, of course.
I wasn’t successful enough yet, but I will get there. I will make more money. I will buy homes. I will eventually not have to work this hard. All of this will pay off exponentially, just not right now.
Eight years later my subconscious voice started to yell at me again.
Cydny? …. Cydny?
Are you okay?
Not even close.
I was miserable.
I lost what was truly important to me.
The only time I was able to somewhat connect with myself was when I was far removed from it all. (traveling)
This lack of clarity led me to uproot my life again (clearly am a fan of change and challenges). I decided to sell my cushy business and transform myself again from Cydny “the businesswoman”, to Cydny “the traveler”. This is when the anxiety resurfaced. This is when yoga became my safe place. Ultimately, this is when I decided to turn the page to a whole new chapter.
At 31 years old, I decided to leave for Costa Rica for 18 days, become yoga certified, and see how I can apply this craft to my traveler lifestyle. I state my age because I was convinced I was going to be one of the oldest participating on this journey. My plan was to bang this out, get in and get out, so I can begin offering workshops wherever I go. What I wasn’t expecting was the life-altering experience it provided. Read Part 2 Here