life is a gentle teacher

on friday i posted a cheerful wish for the weekend.

there was a little more meaning behind it than just put on your dancing shoes and have a good time (although, that is a worthy message for a friday in itself). saturday i started taking ballet classes. one of my girlfriends asked me to take a course with her and impulsively, i agreed.

i took ballet when i was small. like many little girls, i was in love with ballet and ballet dancers, all fluid and sharp at once, the control and precision of their graceful bodies mesmerized me completely. i took classes from a very strict russian woman with a heavy accent and a stern face. i dressed with serious ceremony before each class, treating my leotard, tights and shoes as sacred talisman more than a sweaty uniform. i loved going to class even if i did get anxious butterflies in my stomach while sitting in the car next to whichever parent had to shuttle me to the studio. i took classes for a couple of years and loved every minute of it. i registered vaguely as only a love-blind child can, that my teacher’s brow never relaxed its furrow when gazing upon me; my parents looked at me with pity and a little sadness but thought nothing of it.

suddenly, i stopped being taken to ballet and was driven instead to ice rinks. finally after months i asked why i was no longer attending ballet. my mom looked at me with great sadness and replied that i was such a good skater, wouldn’t i prefer to keep skating? of course! i loved to skate! what wasn’t relayed to me then, was that my teacher pointed out that i didn’t have the body of a dancer. my already stubby and thick legs, made stronger and thicker by skating from the moment i could walk, would never lean and allow me to move like a ballerina must move. later when i really understood what happened i was confused and ashamed. what was wrong with my legs? they were sturdy and strong! it was the first time i noticed i had a body and maybe it was flawed.

while this was certainly a source of sadness for me, i never stopped loving ballet. but I was terrified to try ballet ever again. i continued to skate and those thick legs of mine served me well. they served me even better by allowing me to become a nationally ranked shot-putter in high school, but the feeling of dread over my muscle-y legs never abated.

standing at the barre on saturday, all those feelings of dread and shame washed over me anew. but this time i was able to shrug them off. make no mistake, i was terrible in class. clumsy and unsure, my thick legs made certain positions nearly impossible. it was dreadful to see myself in the mirror. but life is about trying. life is about experimenting. and as an adult, i understand i don’t have to be good at everything. saturday ballet is going to be about doing something that doesn’t come to me easily or naturally. it is going to be about spending time with a friend. i will never be a ballet dancer, maybe never even move past laughable, but i am determined to break the rules of shame and live in a spirit of experimentation and discovery.

live and learn. that is how we grow…