This morning I am taking my first ballet lesson.
Well, not my first first. I used to take lessons, but I'm definitely not A Real Dancer. It's been many years and my flexibility is at negative two. But I've found a class for grownups-who-want-to-dance-a-little-without-killing-themselves, and I signed up.
I feel like a six-year-old with her first tu-tu.
Ballet is the only exercise that makes me happy. I despise gyms, I refuse to do crunches, and all sports--with the dubious exceptions of bowling and skeeball--are anathema to me. (And don't get me started on the burst training. It does amazing things to the body, but I couldn't possibly hate it more.)
So. Today I slip into my Blochs-size-3B and stand by the barre. And hopefully not make a fool of myself.
I'm sure my love of ballet is intricately tied in with my overall creativity--the writing, the music, the born-to-be-on-stage-ness. (Just ask my mother. She will fervently agree with the latter.) Mind you, I have no intention of letting anyone see me dance outside the safety of the dance studio. I am a three-legged horse; a wingless bird; a ballerina with cement in her shoes.
But ballet makes my spirit sing. Makes me soar on the inside. And that's what it's about, right?
Of course, ballet isn't my Main Thing. I can't imagine sitting down and writing a crappy story just to make my heart do a few flips. Once you progress beyond the "I do this because it's fun" stage, it's no longer...well, fun.
Not that I don't adore what I do! But let's face it; drafting is hard work. Revising is hard work. Heck, even critiquing for others takes much time and thought and effort. In a lighthearted moment, I might chirp, "Oh, writing is fun!" Because there's a lot about it that's wonderful, and "fun" definitely describes the sensation of slipping into another world and hanging out there for a while, creating characters and a storyline that will hopefully fly.
But writing is my work, not my fun. I adore it, I breathe it, I am far too empty without it (like during these dreadful between-project phases!). But I don't do it to unwind. I do it because it's what I do best; because I love it; because I have goals and dreams and a vision of where I want to go with it--for the rest of my life.
So, hello ballet! Thank you for giving flight to my creative spirit without requiring me to excel.
(If you don't hear from me, it's because I am unable to sit down. Or stand. Because ballet may look all fluffy and flitty, but dang. It's a killer.)
See you Monday!