Writing this bio brings me back to so many unforgettable
moments in my life: all forty-five babies I delivered in OB internship,
the first time I cut the human body in anatomy class, the first
surgery in OR, the numerous blood exchanged transfusions I did (on
premies) alone in midnight hours, CPR and resuscitations, spinal
taps, blood work, the stress of being the only in-hospital pediatrician,
medical presentations; then the moment that I watched the loving
parents holding their baby with Craniofacial Malformation (nose
located above eyes....). It’s impossible not to be philosophical.
I did try to live my life forward and just started to understand
it backward.
I am the miracle of modern medicine. Every time I stepped on the
dance floor, it symbolizes triumph. My divorce turns out to be a
life-changing blessing. Cancer experience taught me to get real
with myself. This IS the life I live right now. Really, no rehearsals
and how beautiful it is. The new rule of my life: Too much fun is
not enough.
I was born and grew up in Taiwan, moved to New York in 1978 and
live in Orange County, California since 1985. I am a retired Physician
and I had practiced Pediatrics in Taiwan, NY and California. I remember
not feeling well a lot as a little child. I did most of my homework
on my bed. I had often been exempted from school chores and physical
activities. I was constantly given second chances to pass PE exams.
Unaware that I have an autoimmune problem, I struggled physically
in silence in all of my adult life, feeling tired just about all
the time. I had some vague physical symptoms over the years, yet
I always look too healthy to be not well, even to my doctor friends.
After retiring from work, I started to look for fun ways to build
physical strength, which lead me to swimming, roller-skating, skiing
and eventually dancing. I started line dancing in a Vietnamese church
one Sunday in August 1997. I showed up in high heel shoes for class
taught by Mel Branham; got a blister right there. But it was so
much fun, I danced bare foot right into the next class. I felt like
I was playing a game, trying to figure out the step patterns in
each dance. I was so busy picking up the step sequences and directional
changes that I forgot all my unhappiness. A year later I started
attending workshops, not knowing this is the beginning of my new
exciting life style. I am so hooked.
Four years ago, out of the blue just as I thought I was getting
stronger, my aggressive breast cancer was diagnosed. I knew I want
to live and dance, so I embraced the treatment wholeheartedly. With
the support from all my caring friends, I was able to continue dancing
during treatment. I scheduled my IV chemo sessions a few hours before
the socials so I could dance before the sickness stroked me. There
was time I found myself dancing, yet I can’t even walk straight.
Yes, it’s true that I danced on the chair during IV drips
with all my body parts other than my right arm. I am now cancer
free. Three years ago I met a Rheumatologist who was finally able
to identify autoimmune activities involving my blood vessels. For
that I am taking Lupus medicine now.
In my healthier days during my college years, I played (and was
paid) cat-walking on runways as a fashion model for one summer.
I have a huge craving for world music and roses. At one point I
took care of 75 rose bushes in my yard personally. Before my line
dance era, I enjoyed playing (more like tapping) piano, reading
Chinese novels and English non-fiction books. I‘m so drawn
to Wayne W. Dyer, Norman Vincent Peale and Marianne Williamson types
of thinking. I knew that I saw the world very differently after
reading Freud books as a nerdy junior HS student. A few decades
later, I longed to get myself back to the childhood I missed. I
finally found my playground on the line dance floor.
My dream life consist of waking up without fatigue or aches, Mahjong
game in the day, line dancing at night, reading, writing, music,
travel and happy time with family/friends in between. Oh, lots of
eating too.
I have two structured homes, Huntington Beach and Taipei. On the
broader sense, I felt home when I’m free to be me and/or wherever
I’m surrounded by love; so this explains why I’m so
happy line dancing. My husband Tom and I live in Huntington Beach,
California. Tom retired from Boeing as a senior aerospace engineer
manager; he loves to run 4-10 miles a day along the coast, plays
golf up to 4+ days a week and skis wherever and whenever the snow
is calling. We travel so much (dance, golf, ski, family) that we
send out a color coded travel calendar to our family members. .
We have three sweet daughters: Alison studies in SF State and works
for Apple as a computer engineer. Annie is an attorney who works
for Vintage Capital group. Nicole currently studies in UC Berkeley
and works as an SAT tutor. Both Alison and Nicole will graduate
next month.
My father is an 80-year young renowned physician who still practices
medicine seven days a week in Taipei. My mom manages everything
I can think of. She might be the eldest driver in Taipei today.
My three sisters live nearby and the fourth lives in Taipei.
Meeting so many line dancers all over the world humbles me; I am
very inspired by so many of you,
You taught me it’s possible we can still take dance lessons
at age 92,
You taught me the courage to show up on the dance floor diligently
despite of all the physical challenges we have,
You taught me how to have fun in everything we did together,
You taught me how powerful your kindness can enrich life in all
aspects,
You taught me what support means. Before the breast cancer episode,
I thought we were acquaintances on the dance floor. Yet many of
you came forward to be my guarding angels, so I was able to heal
and continue dancing.
You taught me how to offer love,
You taught me how to receive love,
You even taught me it’s cool to be “me”.
All of the things I learned from our line dance family have so many
positive ripple effects. One of them answers the question I have
been frequently asked: “How do I develop my style?”
The idiosyncrasy of my dance expression is not designed or planned.
It is I. It is the reflection of my soul. The breast cancer reminds
me to respect all my healthy body parts and to honor my body the
way it is. I dislike practicing in front of mirrors because the
focus is then shifted from having fun to correcting movements. The
dance becomes work. When I don’t look at myself in the mirror,
I am what I believe. I can explore my simple existence wherever
the music takes me. When I am having fun, I’m more willing
to try new unfamiliar awkward moves. Subsequently I’m delighted
to discover surprising abilities within me.
I love to catch the rhythm with any part of my being; I love to
make my dances a little more difficult for myself. I love to challenge
myself and drive myself nuts a little.
I felt I dance best when I am totally in the zone with only the
music in my awareness. I love to dance to get out of the self I
know. Somehow there are always little nice surprises for me to get
to know myself in a different way. I have absolutely no idea I dance
the way I do now and I still feel a lot more inside me waiting to
come out. When I dance, I allow myself to be the little girl inside
this body to come out and play.
I love line dance parties the most. Different songs are played all
night long with loving friends around. I love to dance till all
sweaty. I love to dance till I drop. My body feels both tired in
a good way yet strangely energized in the same time. I feel that
my body is so happy when I dance and it heals just about everything.
I was always told that I danced differently from everyone else.
So I danced with my eyes closed in the dark corners thinking no
one can see me. I’m free to be me. At first I showed up, smiled,
danced and went home. Since I rarely engaged in conversation, I
thought few could even remember my name. It did not take long to
realize I’m wrong. I’m so grateful for all of your affection,
respect, encouragement and advices, which gradually removed my shyness.
The most powerful personal line dance-related experience is my first
solo performance in Cool Country 6 dinner show. I don’t know
how I would feel or behave under the bright light in front of so
many eyes. My hair was just budding. (I had been bald from chemo.)
I learned that my self-acceptance is real. Looking back, I was so
weak and so strong. I was also very inexperienced that I misunderstand
what bio (for the performance) means; I gave Doug Miranda a whole
page of material to choose what he wanted. The amazing Doug transformed
the whole thing into a standing ovation for me.
In addition to that exciting experience, I am so honored being nominated
for “Dancer Of The Year” in the very first Dancer’s
Choice Award. Thank you sooo much for your votes and support.
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