(image from eonline.com)
In this time of heightened global tension, it's easy to feel like hope and joy are in short supply.
Like many of you, I was gripped with the deja vu of 'here we go again' and the despondence of 'is this the new normal' this month, when news headlines seemed to report one shocking story after another. Bombs detonated on a Russian airliner, in a Beirut suburb, in Parisian cafes or music/sporting venues and in a Mali hotel. Then, a few days ago, the U.S. State Department issued a worldwide travel alert, urging Americans to stay vigilant during the holidays. Even the lady who served me at a US retail chain this evening told me to 'have a safe Thanksgiving'.
It was going to take something special to reconnect me to life's beauty. I yearned for an injection of hope and joy, and it came in the most delightful and unexpected of forms -- a 4' 11" Australian force of nature named Bindi Irwin.
Crocodile hunter and jungle girl
Bindi's father Steve Irwin was one of my role models. I was a graduate in Biology, and it was inspiring to see Steve run Australia Zoo and become known as 'The Crocodile Hunter' on his hit TV shows. Even when my career path eventually took me away from hard science, I lived vicariously through Steve's work, knowing that his dedication to conservation would keep us close to and respectful of wildlife.
I'm guessing I'm not the only person who wondered if Steve might one day lose a limb (or worse) to a crocodile. I'm sure he took all necessary precautions when wrestling with these glorious creatures, but still.
When the news came in 2006 that Steve had succumbed to a freak stingray attack, two thoughts floated into my mind. It was probably the first time I'd considered someone who died doing what they loved. That phrase rolls quickly off our tongues when a tragic death occurs, doesn't it? Especially when a risky feat triggered that deathly end. Because Steve had lived such a fully present life, his heart ever beating for the safety of animals everywhere, having that same heart pierced by a stingray in his last moments on earth felt strangely fitting. I was shocked and saddened by our loss -- the Crocodile Hunter was no more, but with the sheer magnetism of his personality and passion, he had turned the idea of conservation into something exciting and worthwhile.
My heart fused with Bindi's. She was exactly the same age I was when I lost my dad, and I wondered how her tender 8-year-old spirit would handle the loss. When she delivered a rousing eulogy at Steve's memorial service, promising to continue the work that Steve held so dear, I had faith that she'd carry both deep grief and steadfast resilience into the rest of her life.
Life carried me into other endeavors after Steve's passing, and my thoughts of Bindi soon faded into the backburner of my memory. I'd tracked her progress in passing, knowing that her conservation work had earned her the moniker of Jungle Girl. Those memories of Bindi waited patiently in the wings, looking for their moment to re-surface with aplomb.
The power of dance
That moment happened this week, when Bindi stole our hearts and won this season's Dancing With The Stars (DWTS). Now 17 years old and all grown up, Bindi dances with a passion and a spirit beyond her years. She draws you into the story that her partner Derek Hough and she are weaving on stage - heavy metal anthems, ethereal waltzes, classic pop songs or moving ballads...no dance style is too hard, no storyline too daunting.
And instead of wallowing in the untold grief of Steve's sudden passing, Bindi seems to have continued to hold her sadness and triumph with courage. As Derek Hough put it in the final results show, Bindi taught him "you can struggle with joy", and that working with her helped him reawaken his own love for dance.
Seconds after being crowned DWTS champ, Bindi remarked that the show had "changed her life". That's another one of those phrases that many of us like to throw around. I can't speak for Bindi and all that she meant in that moment, but I do know what dance did for me when it mattered most.
When my mind and my heart needed healing, I made time to attend classes and dance my troubles away. Whenever I wanted to feel a sense of place in a new work or living environment, I would turn to dance to ground myself, allowing any unresolved emotions to work through my body and dissipate into the beats of a song. Whenever my brain-intensive career took me too far into the cerebral world of ideas, concepts and theories, I would look to dance to remind myself that I have a thriving being below my neck...that I have limbs to help tell a story, a body to lean into life with, and a heart that beats for what is true. When DWTS contestants talk about what a life-changing experience it is, I feel them leaning into this revelation for themselves, the revelation that dance unlocks essential and forgotten facets of the human experience.
My 2015 Thanksgiving gratitude list
And so, for all the darkness that hangs over our world right now, I'm grateful to Bindi Irwin for:
- embodying strength and grace
- showing us how to struggle with joy
- teaching us that talent and joy have no geographical boundaries -- we have the same capacity to inspire and be inspired, whether we're born Down Under or live in the USA
- honoring her father with each step and dance move
- cherishing her mother and brother
- honoring her grief, but not being confined or defined by it
- trusting that her father is still with her in spirit, and continues to guide her with love
- helping Derek Hough reconnect with his own love for dance
- helping me reconnect with that same love
- reminding us that less is more (her final freestyle dance routine was the only anti-big production number - the simplicity of that performance left the audience in rapturous tears)
Thank you Bindi.
Have a blessed holiday season and may your star continue to shine for us all.