Reacclimating to Home After Being Away

Excited to come home to Philly - Italian Market

On December 7th, I will return to Philadelphia after being away from home for 108 days, or about three and a half months. This has been the longest I have been away from home without at least passing through for a day or two in between gigs. The first time I spent more than a few weeks away from home, I was surprised to find that getting back into my normal patterns was much more difficult than I had expected. Spending any extended period of time in a different environment requires some adjusting to get back into the swing of things, even in the comfort of your own surroundings.

I've often found while preparing for a performance, my focus becomes very intense and I may become completely consumed by the process necessary to get ready for stage. When I worked at Pacific Northwest Ballet, this was built into the fabric of my every day life. I woke up in my own bed, worked at the same facility daily, and returned home to rest in my own apartment. When I had weekends off, I would rest, hang out with friends, and enjoy the surroundings of my city. Developing patterns over time and repetition are natural and make living your own chosen lifestyle comfortable.

Dance is my business (Photo: Brian Mengini)

While preparing for a show as a freelancer may be similar to my experience at PNB in some regards,
it can be quite different when you don't work where you reside. Essentially, a dancer is often forced to start from scratch with their lifestyle and friendships in each locale that they are hired. You generally can't call your close friends to hang out, go to that same yoga place that always helps you find your zen, find the exact same ingredients to that favorite meal you make every week, or drink at your favorite watering hole to let off some steam. Each freelancing gig can be an exciting, fresh adventure in a new city. But while you are building an alternative, short-term lifestyle elsewhere, everything still keeps running like usual back at home. Dealing with this reality can often be one of the biggest challenges for anybody that travels for extended periods of time with their work.

Back in 2012, when I first spent 5 weeks away from home with Alaska Dance Theatre, I was thrilled to return home to enjoy the familiar, see my partner and cats, and visit my friends and family. When I left home, tons of friends showed up to throw me a party to send me off on my adventure. Once in Anchorage, I became so immersed in my work that I didn't really think to shoot off a text message or make a phone call to check in with what was happening with most of those people. After my time away, I expected the exact same reception for my return upon my arrival. A few people had reached out to me on Facebook and stated how excited they were to see me. But the reality of my homecoming was more like walking onto an empty country field in the dead of night. Instead of stepping back into a scene of revelry, I came home to crickets. Most of those friends who sent me off were continuing on with their lives as they normally did. Nobody was holding their breath waiting for my plane to touch down.

Dan working from home

Beyond my local social network, another place that, surprisingly, had changed was in my home. While my partner and I had been together for over 7 years and talked on the phone nightly, he had started to develop patterns that didn't include me. Since he works from home, he had gotten used to working alone in our living space and enjoying the quiet and freedom that came with it. A simple midday question from me could lead to a stressful conversation about interrupting work-related activities. Where I used to be in a pattern of performing household chores, I had gotten more lax living in a home with a host family. I even expected extra attention. I felt like we had to make up for lost time. But things had continued on without me, even in my own home.

What I had originally thought would be an easy reintroduction, turned into a stressful period of examination and carefully executed re-entry. I spent my first week at home depressed and sitting around waiting for my phone to ring with invitations to reconnect. I quickly realized that any effort to see old friends was going to require me to be the one to reach out. One of my biggest challenges was that I had started freelancing almost immediately after moving to a new city. If I had been living in Philadelphia for a few years, it probably would have been easier to reconnect with friends. But I was still in the development period of most of my friendships in the city. I had to be very patient to connect again and found myself spending a lot of time exploring Philly on my own to occupy my time before my next travels.

Exploring Philly on my own

When it comes to reacclimating to living with somebody that you have a relationship with, I find the best route to take is to leave all expectation at the airplane door. Yes, you still have the same relationship that you used to have. But it is human nature to adapt to your surroundings quickly. For this reason, instead of stepping into your situation with expectations, I would suggest taking a step back and letting things find a refreshed order. Even though you missed each other, you don't have to feel that you have to fit five weeks of time into the first week after you've returned. Take your time, don't overwhelm one another, and allow for a little added space than you are used to. Where you may have spent every non-working moment together in the past, you have likely gotten used to spending a bit more time to yourself. See where each of you are and slowly start to get back into more common patterns.
 
Time away from your home environment allows for one to return with new and fresh excitement. But don't let expectation get in the way of a happy return. Reach out to friends while you travel and after you've come home, but don't put the pressure on yourself to have an exciting homecoming party waiting for you. Don't feel like you need to live your life exactly as you did before you left. And don't suffocate your loved ones with immediate expectations. While traveling for work and time apart can make the heart grow fonder, break mundane lifestyle patterns, and refresh your outlook on living, it can also add stress to what used to be regular patterns. If you approach your return with less expectation and more awareness, you can gain a great deal of life experience to enrich your lifestyle at home.

Me and Dan during 2 weeks inbetween gigs

Being the Significant Other of a Freelance Dancer

I've been excitedly waiting for this post for some time. While most of my readers get to see my side of what it is like to be a freelance dancer, there is a very important part of my career and life equation that has been left out of my writing. While I dance on stages across the world, I still have a life and home in Philadelphia. My life partner, Dan Loya, is just as integral a part of my career as my dancing. Without the support and assistance I get from him, I wouldn't be able to do what I do. I asked him a while back to write about what it was like to be with a professional dancer that is often away from home. He very thoughtfully and eloquently wrote about his experience living with, living without, and supporting me from a distance. Read below to hear his unique perspective and role:

My name is Dan Loya and I am the Significant Other of a Freelance Dancer

Many of you have been following Barry's life as a freelance dancer, but none of his posts reveal what it’s like living with a performing artist who is constantly traveling. While everybody here gets to read about Barry's experiences and adventures, those that don't know us personally never get a feel for what's happening behind the scenes. The old adage goes, "behind every good man is a good woman." I consider myself the "good husband" behind the good man. When I look at the pros and cons of being partnered with a freelance dancer, there is a delicate balance that has to be maintained.

Some details of being the significant other of a dancer may be a given. Yes, I don't pay to attend any of the shows he performs in. And I have had the advantage of seeing world-class performances; ranging from the highest caliber companies to avant-garde productions that perform underground shows. Often, I am also surrounded by dancers of all ranks. But the times I get to feel like I’m part of the elite ballet and contemporary dance worlds are sometimes overshadowed by the downsides of my role.

Visiting Portage Bay in Alaska

The roughest part of being in a relationship with someone who travels constantly for work is the time apart. We have learned over the past few years that, indeed, distance does make the heart grow fonder. After Barry's first year of freelancing, I made a comment that we have a “part-time long distance” relationship. That didn’t sit well with him at first. We have managed to make it work, and I travel to visit him in any place he dances for more than 3-4 weeks. So far in the past few years, I have stayed with him in Providence, Rochester, New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and even as far as Anchorage. Fortunately, since I own my own business as a professional organizer, I often arrange to work with clients in many of the cities where he performs. 

Communication is key to us staying connected. We talk on the phone once a day, if we can. During our conversations, we update each other on events from that day, plan and strategize, encourage each other, sometimes discuss how stressed we are about one thing or another, and, most importantly, listen to each other. Toward the end of each call, I always have some business to discuss and ask for his feedback. One thing I have realized is that when Barry has challenges with a gig (and at times he questions whether or not he should continue freelancing), it has a negative impact on me.

Often I function as his business manager, helping him to decide which jobs to take, coaching him on negotiations, reminding him to contact specific people, and encouraging him to make important contacts and to maintain relationships with them. When I am dealing with home stresses without him,
it can make it more difficult for me to fulfill the manager role. We also spend many holidays and anniversaries apart, so we sometimes celebrate them early…or even months later (like Thanksgiving in March).

Celebrating Halloween moments after Barry stepped off a plane

One of the most difficult aspects of remaining connected through phone conversations is noise and distractions on his side. We aren't always in the same time zone. So while I may be getting ready to sleep, Barry may be out eating dinner. Sometimes, I struggle to hear him due to noise; like in a restaurant he’s eating at late night after a show, dogs barking in his host’s home, etc. When he is at the studio or out with other dancers, he will answer their questions or give them updates during our conversation. We Skype whenever we can (this method of conversing is preferred), but the internet connection on his side isn’t always great and the time difference can be barrier.

Doing business w/one of our cats helping

You may be wondering how we maintain all of the tasks that are normally managed by a couple when he’s gone. When Barry is home, we coordinate our schedules by using a Google Calendar and by writing reminders on a dry-erase board. Since he dances, teaches, and choreographs, I have to be incredibly flexible to accommodate his schedule at times. During weeks that he's away and I have to hold down the fort, I usually email him details from certain bills, make deposits for him at the bank,
send out checks on his behalf, clean our apartment, take care of our 2 cats (one that gets sick quite often), run our errands, and wash the piles of dirty dance clothes he doesn’t have time to wash (dance belts included!). This is all in addition to working 40-50 hours a week on my own business. So it can be very stressful at times.

Barry has (jokingly) referred to himself as an “alien” because he travels so much and is away from home so often. We joke that acquaintances and friends I make in Philadelphia don’t believe he really exists until they meet him. When he’s gone, I also maintain social connections on his behalf. Since my partner is a professional dancer, most of our mutual friends (and people who still haven’t met him yet) are often inquisitive about his background, his profession, and where he has traveled to recently.


For those readers out there who are partners or spouses of freelance dancers (or other professions that require frequent travel), I would like to leave you with some suggestions to help you cope with the distance and time apart:

1. Be flexible. Work with your partner as a team to make things work.
2. Check in with each other on a daily basis. Don't underestimate the power of a text. Skype or use FaceTime when possible.
3. Keep yourself occupied by doing things you enjoy when you miss your other half.
4. Approach the relationship as an adventure. It will never be predictable and mundane.
5. Stay connected with your partner’s family when he’s gone. Part of the reason we chose to move to Philly was the proximity to Barry’s family in the suburbs here.

As the Greek philosopher, Epicurus, revealed, “You don't develop courage by being happy in your relationships everyday. You develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity.” Barry and I have endured our rough patches. Our relationship started as a long distance romance the first year, and we have been a team ever since we became a couple. What the future holds, I cannot say. But this I know… As long as he chooses to be a freelance dancer, I will be there.

Barry and me at the top of Lombard Street in San Francisco last weekend

What's the longest you've ever spent away from your significant other? How did you cope with the time apart?

Have I Been Forgotten?

Avenue of the Arts & City Hall - Philadelphia - My morning walk to open class

After nearly 7 months away, I can't even begin to explain how exciting it was for me to return home to Philly. Not only was I thrilled to see my partner and be in my own space, I was excited to see my cats, walk down familiar streets, and sleep in my own bed. Another rousing prospect high on my list was seeing all of my friends that were eagerly awaiting my return home. The day before I embarked on my 3 month tour to Alaska, a large group of about 20 friends gathered with me at a local pub. Last week, when I posted on Facebook that "I.....AM.....HOME", I was expecting the same reception that I received when I left. Alas, I got three responses. My sister said, "yay," my mom said, "woo hoo," and one Philly-based friend responded, "welcome home." And although about 15 people liked my status update, only 3 were local friends. As the next few days passed, I anxiously awaited phone calls, texts, and messages that somebody wanted to hang out with me. One or two came, but, other than that, it has generally been crickets. Then reality started to set in. I had been away for nearly 7 months with only a short break between gigs. Had I been forgotten?

To answer this question, I feel that I need to look all the way back to my childhood. I remember around the age of 13, I decided to dedicate myself to this crazy art of dance. I remember aching inside, I wanted it so badly. I didn't know exactly what was aching and I had an amorphous idea of what I wanted, but I ached for some sort of success and notoriety. As the years progressed, a small handful of students at my home dance studio, Chester Valley Dance Academy, convinced the director to add a Friday night ballet class. We didn't care that all of our peers were going to parties, seeing the newest blockbusters, and having youthful romances. All we knew was that we wanted another chance to dance, no matter the social consequence. Yes, we missed those occasions and, yes, we missed many more. But that little hurt that we did feel was covered up by our successes. We got into summer programs, we won awards at competitions, and we got to travel more than those sitting next to us in English class.

Once I moved on from my home studio, I was thrown into an environment with dozens of dancers, instead of four, just like me. We had made mature sacrifices as mere children. We passed on integral social building parts of our childhood to do something fascinating. We didn't care if we missed prom. We didn't care if we got made fun of for being men and dancing. We didn't care if our friends slowly started to drift away because we were always at dance. Finally, we had entered an environment with kids like us. At the Kirov Academy of Ballet, it was impossible to not become close to your peers. We lived, danced, ate, and received our academic education all in the same building. There was no need to turn down friendship for dance because we were always together in everything we did. But once we graduated, some dancers got contracts, some went to college, and others quit dance altogether and we scattered across the country like pigeons searching for breadcrumbs. We had to start the process all over again. Yes, we finally had solid friendships, just none of them lived close enough to hang out.

Reuniting w/suitemates from SAB 10 years later - Me (PNB), Jermel Johnson (PA Ballet), Andrew Scordato (NYCB)

Most dancers finally begin to have a solid social life once they join a company. This is when one usually settles down in one place for an extended period of time. Aside from befriending colleagues, being an independent adult allows you to pick and choose friends outside of dance who are fine with the oft erratic schedule of a dancer. Once I lived in Seattle for a long enough period of time, I had a solid group of friends in and out of dance. At that point, I felt that all of the sacrifices from my childhood paid off. I had the best of both worlds; my success as an artist and the social life that I had passed on years before. Then I decided to make a career change and moved away from that social atmosphere that had become an integral part of my young adult life.

Moving is almost always traumatic. Aside from relocating and adjusting to a change of environment, you need to find a new base of support. Unfortunately, my work takes me away from home for weeks and months at a time. I am lucky that my partner is mostly stationed in Philly throughout the year and has developed his own base of friends. Whenever I return home from a gig, he sits me down and reads a long list of people that are very excited to finally meet me. This is really nice and I always enjoy his new friends. For me, though, I feel that I have only acquired what is mostly panning out to be acquaintances with great potential. Now don't get me wrong, I have made some good friends in Philadelphia and I do have great relationships in the suburbs from my childhood. But for the most part, it is nearly impossible to cultivate caring, understanding, and mutual friendships when I am always picking up and leaving right as things start to blossom. It makes complete and total sense to me that I have these banging send offs and disappointing returns.

When I experience disappointment, I try to turn the tables and look at things from an outside perspective. Going through this process over the last week, I have come to realize a few things. The first being that it is not uncommon for people to latch onto me quickly. I am quite outgoing and friendly, which generally makes me easy to approach. Most non-dancers initially seek my friendship because of their intrigue in me as a dancer. I find that people seek to know the professional side of me before the personal. It takes awhile for acquaintances to really get to know me on a more personal level, which is truly when the friendship starts. I have to spend time cultivating potential friends to look at me as a person that dances instead of only as a dancer. This usually takes multiple, frequent encounters. Unfortunately, my work schedule doesn't allow that pertinent relationship building time. So, most of the people I meet feel a great connection to me that is easily pushed to the side after I leave town.

Along the same note, I have to remind myself of the well-known idiom, "Out of sight. Out of mind." When you don't see somebody with a hint of regularity, it is easy to forget about your relationship with that person. This is human nature, therefore removing the personal blame from either side of the equation. If an important connection hasn't been cultivated, one can't be held accountable for moving on to more important relationships in their lives.

Keeping the above in mind, I came to realize that I must accept some of the blame in my feelings of being disregarded. When I travel, I must adjust to a new environment. I have to learn the layout of the city, meet new colleagues, and find enough time to rest from all of the hard work I put in. When I come home from a long day in the studio, I am more likely to draw a bath and pour a glass of wine than I am to call or message a new friend. At the very moment that I started to feel bitter towards the lack of excitement in my return, I had to look at myself and accept that I put very little effort into cultivating something that I shouldn't expect as a given.

Once I got over the fact that nobody was calling me, I started contacting people. And as I have slowly started adjusting to being home and begun returning to my routine, I have run into some of the people that I had hoped would reach out to me. Each one of them has responded with the same excitement that they had when I left. It must be kept in perspective that, as I do when I get busy, people don't necessarily forget about you when you aren't around. Just because somebody hasn't contacted you, doesn't mean that they don't care about you anymore or that you haven't crossed their mind. Essentially, I am surrounded by successful adults that are just as busy as I am. They probably feel the same way about me that I felt about them. If one offers a gentle reminder that they have returned, they will get a better response than they would if they egotistically waited around for everybody else to make initial contact.

With this new mindset, I don't feel as forgotten as I did just days ago. Being a freelancer, we are lucky that we get to make friends everywhere that we go. While most adults stay in one place and cultivate their one group of friends, I have the privilege of traveling the world and making friends in each city that I travel. While there isn't always sheer excitement each time I come and go, there is often excitement everywhere I go. It is actually a privilege to have friends wherever I travel. This must not be taken for granted. When I finally decide to settle down and slow the pace of my freelancing, I can be more concerned about having a solid social group at home. And to be completely honest, if I am to be forgotten, it can't really be all that bad. I survived these feelings as a teenager. So I can surely live a happy life with these feelings as an adult. Not much has really changed since I was a devoted teenage dance student passionate about my art.

The Fine Line Between Submissive and Aggressive

As a student of dance, you are taught to be as submissive as possible. You know nothing and the teacher holds the key to all of the possibilities of your future. Of course, there are good teachers and bad teachers and you submissively hope that each teacher is going to give you all of the correct tools for success. Whether you get proper training or not, if you make it as a professional, it is likely that you lucked out on a great teacher or moved along to find a new, better teacher to show you the way. Once you become a professional, you are hired to follow the lead of a director and their artistic staff. Essentially, show up, take class, come to rehearsal, do your job, and go home. Don't question authority, corrections, or advice. As a pro, your role as dancer changes to a degree and you have a bit more say in how you approach your work. But for the most part you must still remain subservient, even as a fully grown adult. At what point does this mindset help one's career and when does it begin to hinder your pathway to success?

When I am teaching a class, I fully expect my students to hang on every word I say. I've been through rigorous training at world-class schools, I have danced on many great stages, and I have had lasting power that has allowed me to continue dancing for 10 years and counting. My students are more than welcome to ask questions. But when it comes to questioning my approach, knowledge, and corrections, I am not open to holding a debate about my reasoning with a student in class. What it comes down to is this. A student is somewhere between a blank canvas and an uncolored outline of a beautiful picture. They still need the tools to determine what colors to paint the picture, what brush to use, and the appropriate technique to combine these things into a piece of art. Very rarely does a student have a natural knack to complete the image without any instruction. For the most part, a student needs articulate guidance to help them along their path to success. This idea of blind following is a necessary aspect of a student's training.

Because many dancers begin their career at a young age, the concept of blind following tends to bleed over in the transition from high-level student to professional dancer. As a pro, it is assumed that you will be that blank canvas I mentioned above. The expectation of a dancer is to walk into a studio, have previous choreography/new work transferred to their body, and then to go onstage and do exactly what they have been told to do in rehearsal. For the most part, the dancer is performing under great influence of those that they are submissive towards. Typically, the only influence dancers have in the choreography comes from their personality and individual nuance. It is not common for a dancer to be given liberty to make largely personal choices in the studio or onstage.

Dancing "Gold" in "Sleeping Beauty" - SAB workshop '03

I often ask myself whether adult-professional dancer submission is due to the nature of the work or the nature of the training. There was great controversy back in 2009, when New York City Ballet's Ballet-Master-in-Chief, Peter Martins, was called out by a dancer that had been laid off and felt the need to speak about certain aspects of dancing for America's largest dance company. In this article, former dancer, Sophie Flack, stated "we’re referred to as kids by the administration. Some of the people they’re referring to are 35-year-old women with children." I often question why this happens. For many dancers, especially within New York City Ballet, they are hired as teenagers that have come through the School of American Ballet. Peter Martins often taught at the school when I attended in 2002-2003. When students come through training programs as teenagers and transition to professionals at a young age, the leadership still has the memory of the dancers as students. I feel it can be difficult to make the mental transition, on the artistic staff's side, from aspiring child to working adult. This is not always the case, as many dancers move on to dance with companies that didn't see this progression. But the idea that most dancers don't have a transition in the most common sense, like going from high school student to college student to intern to working professional, blurs the line between submissive, child-like attitudes and more aggressive, adult-like independent thinking.

It is quite difficult to work as a freelance dancer because of the submissive nature that is instilled in dancers at an early point in their training. At times, one can feel like they are fighting against their very own being. When a dancer chooses to freelance, they are finding their own work, promoting oneself, and looking out for their own needs. Much of this requires an aggressive streak. Dancers that remain submissive will find that they have trouble convincing employers that they are the right person for the job. The act of negotiating a contract is also an activity that requires the dancer to act more aggressively to have their needs met. Following these more aggressive behaviors, a dancer arrives in the studio and is expected to be completely submissive. To add to the confusion, if an issue, whether relating to comfort or safety, needs to be handled, it is the freelancers necessity to speak up for themselves. It can be quite confusing and cause problems if one can't determine when it is appropriate to be submissive or aggressive.

What I find works best for me is to get my most important needs written directly into a contract. This prevents any question if an uncomfortable situation arises and I need to address it. Responding aggressively to an action that is in opposition to expectations seems less aggressive if it is put down in writing prior to the issue. I find that it is easier to remain submissive in a studio if you respect the people you are working for and if they provide an atmosphere that is comfortable and safe. As it is often said, respect breeds respect.

To be completely honest, I find myself happiest in a studio where I feel that I can remain submissive. When I feel the need to step into a more aggressive role, it is usually because I feel disrespected or endangered. Moving away from my place of submission makes me horribly uncomfortable. Certain situations do arise that can push the boundaries of a dancers' reaction. For instance, if an employer makes last second changes to a rehearsal schedule, how is one supposed to react? What if rehearsals continue longer than they are supposed to? Or if the warm-up class is not what is expected or appropriate? What if there is a last minute costume change that could be potentially dangerous without any time to adjust? When is it appropriate to speak up (an aggressive act) and when is it time to let it slide (a submissive act)?

As I have already said, I am happiest in rehearsals where I can remain submissive. Unfortunately, working as a freelance artist, there will be times when one must stand up for themselves. This has been a challenge more than I would like to admit during my tenure as a freelancer. Dancing with an AGMA company, the dancers had a 40-something page contract that clarified every detail of expected conditions and terms listed. In the freelance world, there is no such thing. For the most part, you are at the will of whatever the employer asks you to do. If you don't feel safe and you choose to act submissively, you may be jeopardizing your own well-being. But if you respond aggressively, you may be upsetting the management and creating an insubordinate image. Essentially, it takes great judgement on the freelancers part to decide when it is appropriate to let something slide and when to speak up for oneself.

In the end, due to the nature of expected dancer submission, if one chooses to vocalize their concerns, they may risk souring the director's view of them and destroying potential for future work together. Whether the issue is small or large, an aggressive discussion (whether mild or severe) to resolve conflicts of interest can end in resolution or disaster. Unfortunately, I am not in a place to give advice on what is right and what is wrong. It is as personal as it gets. The only advice I can give would be to judge your relationship with the person you are bringing an issue up with, think about how important the problem is and how much it is affecting your well-being, and avoid entering into a discussion with anger and resentment. Keeping these things in mind, it will be easier to have a civil conversation. Essentially, be aggressive with a hint of submission. And if you see that the opposite party isn't responding well, have an exit plan. If the item is important, stand your ground. If it is anything less than important, consider taking a step back or compromising.

Many engagements come and go smoothly with both parties pleased with the work done. There are times that things don't go as planned. Working as a freelancer often means that an employer can request a dancer to do anything beyond the scope of their contract, which is often short and limited in language beyond pay, status, and expectation. Any dancer should be aware that they are expected to act submissively on most occasions. But as a freelancer, one can't be afraid to have aggressive moments. Work aggressively to find work and protect your comfort and needs, but keep a close gauge on managements responses and reactions to help maintain a good working relationship. In the end, if conditions are bad enough that you feel the need to play the aggressive card too often, it is likely that you won't be returning to dance for that employer again in the future.

Submissive dancers in the front - Aggressive dancer in the back

Freelancing while in a relationship

Danya and me at Pacific Northwest Ballet's opening night gala dinner in 2006

I have danced nine shows in one week. There have been stages harder than the floor of a warehouse. I've danced multiple pieces of choreography to the same piece of music every week for 4 weeks. All of these, among others, have been great challenges for me since I began freelancing. There are many difficult obstacles in one's freelancing career, but I still find one of the biggest challenges as a traveling freelance dancer in leaving my life partner for an extended period of time. It is just one of those things that doesn't get easier the more you do it.

One of the reasons I left PNB was because I felt the company didnt get to travel enough. Working 40 weeks a year in a distant city like Seattle, I felt like my feet were glued to the ground. As a hopeful student, I heard fabulous stories of dancers going on tour, seeing the world, and getting paid to do it. I worked hard to get into a big company that had a great history of touring. Being offered a job at PNB, a place that had a reputation for international touring, I fully expected to be visiting London, Hong Kong, and many other places. But after joining the company, touring barely happened more than a few times. While with the company, I traveled three times to the Vail International Dance Festival and once to the Joyce Theater in New York City. When I left the Pacific northwest, I figured that I might travel a little more since I was only tied down to a 22 week contract in Philadelphia. In typical fashion, when I ask the universe for something, I get exactly what I ask for, but in some completely ass-backwards way. I am not complaining, but freelancing full-time was not my expectation.

My first time visiting L.A. at the Getty Museum - January 2006

My partner and I met in Seattle back in 2005. He was visiting from his hometown of Los Angeles working on a political action committee. We were instantly enthralled with each other, but both of us refused to commit because neither of us wanted to do the long distance thing. After returning to L.A., we remained in close touch. He had a trip to Egypt and London scheduled (which he had already paid for) and asked me if he went on that trip if there might be a chance that I would meet someone else. I tend to be brutally honest and responded with a bold "yes." Well, long story short, he changed the dates of that trip (which he never actually got to go on) and booked 10 days to visit me in Seattle. At the end of that foray, he returned to L.A. a few steps closer to hooking me. Finally on January 28, 2006, 7 years ago, I agreed to commit to him if he would agree to move to Seattle within a year. Nine months later, as I often refer to him, Danya moved to the Emerald City and we started our life together.

Living in Seattle brought us many challenges that actually made our relationship stronger in the long run. From stifled careers to passive-aggressive friendships to a tragic accident that left Danya incapable of walking for 3 months, we survived together and our bond grew stronger. One thing that we never had to deal with was spending time apart. By the time that we moved to Philly in 2011, I believe the longest we had been apart from each other since Danya's move to Seattle was 10 days when I traveled to Israel on a Birthright trip. Moving to Philadelphia was a choice we made together. While we were happy to leave Seattle behind, I don't think we quite expected things to be the way they are today.

I remember back in April when I traveled to Providence on my first gig as a full-time freelancer, I wrote a status update on Facebook about missing my partner. He gave a supportive response and thrown in there was something along the lines of, "we are in a part-time long distance relationship." My heart sank into the pit of my stomach and I thought to myself, "how did I get here?" Once I came to terms with the fact that my current career track meant that we would be spending a lot of time apart, I started figuring out ways to help make myself feel close to Danya, even when I am halfway across the world searching for the Aurora Borealis.

My nightstand in Alaska

There are a handful of ways that one can make themselves feel closer to a loved one when they are too far to hold close. I am always sure to bring a photograph of my partner and myself together to put right next to my alarm clock. If I put it next to my alarm clock, it is usually the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing that I see before I go to sleep. I also bring an item that my partner gave me as a gift. For instance, I love to cuddle myself to sleep. When I crawl into bed and he isn't there, it is too easy to start feeling lonely. As ridiculous or childish as it may sound, Danya gave me the gift of a stuffed sock monkey awhile back. Whenever I spend more than a week away from home, I bring the stuffed animal along with me to cuddle with before I go to sleep. I've never been one to sleep with a stuffed animal and I don't keep one in my bed at home, but when I travel this sentimental item helps calm and relax me before I go to sleep. It isn't a replacement, but it is comforting to know that his spirit is there.

Another photo I bring wherever I travel

One issue I have is that I am a constant worrier and get really anxious about the possibility of things that could happen, even if that possibility is unlikely. My friends think its a part of my Jewish blood, but genetics or not I am always worried that certain things are going to happen, like losing touch. In order to calm my worries, Danya and I always develop a plan before I leave town. For instance, I am writing this blog from seat 15A on my way to spend 3 months in Anchorage dancing with Alaska Dance Theatre. To ensure that we stay in the best touch possible, we have developed a plan to talk every evening before Danya goes to sleep (there is a 4 hour time difference) and to Skype once every weekend. We keep this plan loose, in the event that we are just too busy to talk. But the important part of this plan is that we have set an intention. Even if we don't have much to share with each other, we still get on the phone and talk for a minute or two. When you are used to seeing one another every day, it is easy to get into free flowing conversation. But when you are apart, the conversation tends to focus on what you have done during your day. If there isn't much else to talk about, there is no need to sit in awkward silence waiting to stir up conversation. If we have a lot to talk about, we spend more time chatting. But on days where we have less to talk about, we sum up our day and say goodnight. There will be more to talk about tomorrow and its not worth stressing that we didn't have much to share. As for Skype, having a visual conversation helps make me feel better when we've been apart for too long. Although you can't touch each other, you can at least feel like you are in the same room.

One particular challenge that took a bit more thought was missing important holidays, dates, and events with one another. For instance, Danya and my anniversary is coming up in 9 days. We won't get to spend this important milestone together. To make sure that we don't miss out on this special occasion, we moved the date of our anniversary ahead ten days. Last night, we went out for a nice dinner and went out dancing afterwards. Although we can't spend our special day together, it doesn't mean that we can't move it and celebrate on another day. Coming up next is Valentine's day. We clearly can't spend this holiday together and it would be odd to celebrate our anniversary and Valentine's day a few days apart and nearly a month prior to the holiday. So, we have already planned to celebrate Valentine's day with a Skype dinner date. Having some facetime on a computer doesn't only have to involve sitting at a desk, staring at one another on a computer screen. We are both going to make our own dinner and buy a bottle of wine and sit down at a table and enjoy each others company over a meal. Again, although we can't touch each other, we can still have the experience of being together.

Dan climbing atop a mountain of snow at Portage Bay, AK

The final way that I combat the emotional strain of being apart for such a long period of time is by bringing my partner along with me. This is not always an option, perhaps due to time or money. Prior to every gig I do, I ask my host family or hotel if my partner can join me for a few days. I have never been told no, but if I was I would be more than willing to pay for a hotel. My partner and I have a rule that he has to come visit me in the middle of any gig that I do if it lasts longer than 3 weeks. I feel very lucky that Danya owns his own business (Spaces Transformed - Professional Organizer) and has more flexibility to travel. For instance, during the 3 months that I am away in Alaska, Danya will be joining me for 3 1/2 weeks, smack dab in the middle of the gig.  This way we will spend a month apart, be together for a month, and then have another month before I return home. That sounds much better than 3 months of phone and Skype conversations. Since he owns his own business, he can work wherever his services are needed. His home and office organization business travels well and he is currently looking forward to working with clients in Alaska. I am very excited to have him enjoy this experience with me. It is almost like a mini-vacation/retreat.

Traveling while freelancing can make one feel lonely, moreso when you have to leave a loved one at home. Bringing sentimental items and photos, setting up phone and Skype dates, celebrating special days and holidays early and via skype, and bringing your partner along with you can make the distance more bearable. I love my partner and I love my job. I feel so lucky to have a partner that is so supportive of what I do that he is willing to let me leave home for, sometimes, months at a time. One thing that I was surprised to learn through all of this time apart is that the distance actually brings us closer. It brings about a stronger sense of appreciation, refreshment, and excitement when we are finally reunited again.

Savoring the moment and sharing a special dinner together