Ballet

It's very quiet here this morning. I usually sleep in a bit on Sundays since we don't have church until 1 pm, but this morning I woke up around 6:30 and found myself tossing and turning and unable to get back to sleep. That could be because I'm so sore from this weekend's activities. No, not preparing for the movie. I performed in a dance recital. Yes, you read that right. Me, in a costume, on stage, in front of people. Surprisingly, I really wasn't nervous at this recital like I was at the first two I performed in. In fact, I found it odd that I didn't really feel nervous at all, other than the last couple of minutes before the curtain went up for our first piece. I don't know if it was because I knew that this was probably my last chance to do something like this (who knows if I'll be able to find a studio with adult classes at my skill level in Virginia...), or what. But I wasn't nervous. (Thank goodness for prayer!)

All week long I had been reviewing the steps in my head as I went about my various activities, but even as late as Thursday night I was struggling to remember the order of the steps in our tap routine. I finally got them. We performed three numbers (one of them twice) at dress rehearsal on both Friday and Saturday -- one en pointe, one ballet, and one tap. It was fun and I cried and cried when it was over (in the car on the way home) because it was over and I will miss this part of my life and the wonderful friends I have made through it. Either my daughters or I have been going to Ms. Patricia's School of Dance and Gymnastics almost every year since we moved here 12 years ago. Patricia is one of the sweetest people I know. Brie started taking tumbling there again this spring and will take a "summer fun" tumbling series there this summer. This year, after some personal struggles, I thought I was going to have to give up my beloved ballet classes but Patricia came to me and said that she just wouldn't let me quit and she knew how much I needed those Monday night dance classes and she made it possible for me to continue to dance. I am forever grateful for that. And my teacher, Ms. Beth -- oh, how I love her. She has been my teacher, my therapist, counselor, example, friend, and one of the most giving and kind people I know. Even as she struggled with severe health problems earlier this year and had to cancel classes for a month, she always had a smile on her face and strong, strong faith. I love how she ended each class with a prayer, all of us in a circle holding hands as she said a prayer of gratitude and prayed for whatever needs individual class members had at the time. She is so sweet and I will miss her. I am planning to meet with her a few times this summer so she can help me choreograph a barre workout that I can do at home (did you know most kitchen counters are the right height to be used as a subsitute barre?) so I can at least keep up my basic ballet, pointe, and tap skills.

I really don't know how to explain why I love dance so much. One thing I like is that it is exercise but it doesn't feel like regular exercise. I can't explain that...I know it sounds silly. It is a very disciplined art...controlled movements requiring exact placement and movements. I think, honestly, it can take a lifetime to truly master it. But there is something very freeing in movement that is so controlled. As I focus my mind on muscle control, posture, feeling the rhythm of the music, body position, and movement, all of my other cares and concerns flee and for that hour and a half all I feel is joy -- really, that's the best way I can describe it. Joy. The endorphins at the end help, too! I am usually sore at the end but it's a good kind of sore. And I am definitely sore today!!! I ache all over -- especially my feet -- but it is a good feeling. The kind of feeling where you know you accomplished something wonderful.

I am not comfortable having my family watch me dance. I think that makes them unhappy, but really, I dance for ME -- solely for ME. I know that is selfish. But if they are there (and I know because they were at my first recital), I am worried about not messing up and wanting to be perfect for them and it changes the experience for me. I lose that inner focus on the dance and movements and the motion and the joy. For my Christmas recital this year, I didn't even tell them when/where the recital was! I finally broke down and told Mark yesterday morning when/where the recital was (he knew it was yesterday but that's all he knew) but told him that he didn't have to come, and if he did come, I did NOT want to know about it in advance. Crazy? Maybe. But when I dance, even though there are other people in the class and in the performance, I selfishly dance just for me and for what it does for me personally.

So yesterday, I asked one of the girls in my class to take a picture as we were warming up so that I could prove to everyone that I really did put on a costume and perform. She took the picture with my phone and I posted in to Facebook. One of my friends took the picture and edited it and made it really wonderful....she got rid of the people in the background and made this something beautiful that I love. And so here it is.... Yes, I'm not looking at the camera. Why? I don't know -- it just felt too posed and unnatural. I was trying to figure out what to do with my head and arms when Amber took the picture. And I like it this way.