I woke up this winter solstice in a brand new place- an apartment all to myself. I signed a new lease Friday, my (amazing) friends helped me move all my stuff Saturday, and we drank champagne out of the bottle Saturday night, giddy with joy, even though I didn’t have lights for half of my apartment, hadn’t unpacked anything, and didn’t even have a couch to sit on. Sunday morning I woke up in my bed, but I was surrounded by foreign white walls- my new clean slate.

Most of the time, I’m longing for the seasons to change, hoping the next will be better and I can leave my current worries in the rearview mirror. And I know sometimes we want the seasons to shift badly, and they don’t. and that’s disappointing. It’s actually the worst- feeling stuck. You’ve got to sit in an uncomfortable or painful or confusing season for much longer than you feel you’re built for.

I guess I’m trying to process- that even when seasons seem like they will never change— they will surprise you.

I know moving is not that novel of a thing, but to find a little corner to yourself in Manhattan THAT YOU CAN AFFORD is a huge deal.

I moved to New York City to be a creative: I came as a dancer and I now pursue that alongside other creative endeavors. However, I know that lifestyle choice is not going to earn me the big bucks. I never saw that as a downfall, though; I almost glamorized the starving artist lifestyle. I love living simply and within my means; it’s given me such freedom. I’ve been living in Washington Heights, and our apartment is cozy, and we've had so many friends from around the world move in and out of that place (their writing is on the wall too!). Living in a 3 bedroom with 4 people sounds crazy to people outside of the city, but to me it was home. I didn’t foresee any houses or luxury apartments in my near future - so why set myself up to be disappointed? I tend to be rather the-glass-is-half-full, so I didn’t want to want what I couldn’t have.

A few months ago, I got called off a housing lottery list. I’ve been on a soapbox about affordable housing for a few years, strongly referencing THIS ARTICLE by David Byrne, about how NYC was going to change for the worse if all the artists got pushed out because they couldn’t afford to stay here. You get so caught up in surviving in this city and paying your bills, it’s easy to get distracted from pursuing the art that brought you here in the first place. A week before this phone call, I had one of those ugly public cries on the street. I plopped down on a stranger’s stoop and talked to my mom on the phone— I had injured my back and even though I paid a lot of money for health insurance each month, I couldn’t afford to additionally pay to take care of this injury (of course not covered by my insurance). And injuries are even more painful when your art is dance. It broke open a conversation in me that I had never really allowed myself to consider before- maybe it was my time to leave the city. I had put so much time and effort and money into pursuing a performing career- and what was coming out of it? I couldn’t even afford to take care of myself! I sacrificed so many other areas of my life to pursue this career— quality of life, sunshine, better paying job (aka more money for adventures), relationships (have you TRIED dating in the city?) — was it worth it anymore? I think a lot of people in the industry secretly judge people who leave the city, wondering if they gave up. I had decided a long time ago I wouldn’t be one of those…at least not for a while. But I now wondered what was I supposed to do next? Did I really need to start considering a new chapter? I survived here for over 9 years, but it was wearing me down- did i need to waste any more of my years?

This housing lottery call answered that for me. And I was shocked. I mean I entered this specific lottery a few years ago and forgot about it. It seemed like the stuff urban legends were made of, but for whatever reason I spent a few hours and sent in the application one afternoon in 2012. I was picked out of 30,000 people who applied- and I never win anything! Especially the Wicked lottery. This was an opportunity for a new start, a new neighborhood, a new energy. It is a game changer: long-term affordable housing in midtown NYC? It’s actually better than winning the real lottery in so many ways. Babs (my bike) is not going to know what happened. BYE MTA.

I was careful not to say too much over the past few months, because I actually thought I would jinx it. Seemed too good to be true. (My friend Drew calls it PTSD from auditioning too much - where you could be overqualified for the show and still not book the job, which happens alllll the time. Our logic has been morphed by this crazy business we are in. Thank god audition land does not equal reality in this case.)

When you’re stuck in a season for so long, you actually start to stop believing it can change. But I woke up yesterday, and the season, despite my disbelief, had changed. It wasn’t a dream. And it also happened to be winter solstice. I love when life is poetic like that.

I’m embracing a new season heading into 2015 (with pink cupcakes and champagne, like you do). I’m also staring at my new blank slate and trying to figure out what the heck I’m going to do with it. I’ll get back to you on that…

You may find me down on my knees thanking God for a while before I hop over on Pinterest.