Mental Strength.

Jilissa has been hitting a certain topic recently.
"Your mind is stronger than your body."
And, boy, is she right.

I thought I understood this before, but I'm really starting to understand it now.
I have a long way to go. I need to get stronger. I need more flexibility. I need better arches.
All these things I need to work on daily to get to where I'm heading, and sometimes it seems impossible.
My pointe shoes are giving me a really difficult time. My right foot's big toe gets crammed and starts hurting at the joint really badly. It scares me, I don't want to press through something if it's going to be detrimental in the long run. At the same time, I don't want to make excuses for something I just have to press through.
I noticed the truth in Jilissa's statement yesterday.
After point class, I noticed the joint didn't hurt so much, and my arch was feeling like it got more work into it.
These are both great things.
So as we started learning new and complex things I can't physically do (yet) I kept reminding myself to try my hardest and do it right, even if it didn't look the best. Don't cheat and make bad habits from the beginning. Work up to it.
When I didn't think I could do something, I would just shove the doubt out of the way and try.
It's amazing what you can do when you tell yourself you can.

I have a lot of improvement that needs to be done, but at least I'm seeing it.
No excuses.
No, "I can't."
Those two words are going to be removed from my ballet vocabulary.

I'm only going up from here.

History

I think one thing that draws me to ballet is the history behind it.
To see pictures of ballerinas from the 1800s blows my mind.
Their pointe shoes look like mine.
There form is what I learn.
Their costumes are familiar.
The ballets they dance are ones I've seen.

It's almost like doing ballet ensures immortality.
Not that you yourself are immortal, but that by being a ballerina, you become part of something immortal.

I love history, I love people's stories, I love museums and seeing things that have more than I've been around for; things I didn't get to live or experience myself. I am also vastly aware of how the life I'm living and the generation I'm in is just as much a mark in history as those that fascinate me.
I love when I can tie things from my own life to that of the past. When I find common ground between me in history. I especially love being able to step into a time warp of sorts and experience glimpses of life and times before mine.
It's probably why I love taking dance pictures by the old buildings downtown.

I'm leaving my mark here.
I'm doing my dance.
I'm living my life.
The times I have now can never come back once they've passed.
I want to do all I can to remember and document and make the most of every ounce of this life.

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

I had my gallbladder out on October 4th.
I've been sick for a while and the doctors have been clueless as to what is causing it. In September I was informed that I needed to get my gallbladder removed.
I was nervous, not just because I've never had surgery before, but because I had just started pointe, and I didn't want to fall behind the rest of the girls or--in essence--have to start over.
I psyched myself up to the reality that I'd probably have to miss a month of dance classes. I told myself this was good timing because I shouldn't miss much of the Holiday Showcase choreography and practice. At lease there's that, right?
I had the surgery, and they said it went well. The first four days were rough, but my friends who had the procedure before told me that was to be expected. I couldn't move much. The first day, I could hardly even sit up on my own, let alone do anything else. Standing was painful, even. Thankfully, mobility increased every day. Soon, when I was able to sit up pretty well I got my theraband and worked the muscles in my feet and ankles. The poor things were so neglected.
I had my 10-day follow up appointment this past Monday. Surprisingly, he released me to dance already. It seems like weeks elapsed in those few days I could hardly move, and like my body milked every moment up until that appointment to be lacking in some area. Yet, he still told me I was all clear.
So yesterday, I show up for ballet class. My dance teacher was shocked. I told her I promised to take it easy and not push myself too hard. After all, this was my first day to do any form of physical activity. It seemed my body took every moment it had even up until my dance class (three days and one class after I was technically released) to let me have mostly full function.
A big group of my girls from the studio walked in at one time. When they saw me, they all got really excited and ran to hug me with squeals in their voices. It made me feel so loved, so wanted. Just being in the building made my heart feel so full and happy, let alone getting to dance and be surrounded by my friends.
They were the ones who were most encouraging throughout all this. They understand this desire, and the fulfillment dance brings. The aching deep in my soul to express. They understand how it feels when you have to step away for one reason or another. They missed me as much as I missed them.
One of my friends, Lauren, wasn't there yet. She was the one I was really looking forward to surprising. Allie was just asking where she was when she ran in the studio and grabbed me in the biggest hug ever. It was so great. She told me how every dance day she would be on her way over here, hoping that I would be there that day. Pointe is hard, and we all really encourage each other. I try and use my 25-year-old view on life to encourage their 13-year-old view. Sometimes it can seem difficult, but if we can just push through it, it's worth it. We really band together to endure.
As we were in pointe class and our toes feel like they're going to fall off, I couldn't help but smile, and feel like I was going to burst with happiness. This pain was so wonderful. It meant I was able. It meant I made it. It meant I'm alive and I can function and I can still pursue my dreams. It meant one more step towards progress. The girls did advance quite a bit in the 3 classes I missed; doing pique turns and more across the floor work. So much that Jilissa told us we would do barre on pointe in the first class now, then take them off for floor, and put them back on for pointe. Even though I know I missed those classes they got, I still did all I could. I refused to let fear hold me back from excelling to where they are. I made mental plans of practicing at home more, using the balcony since I don't really have space, looking forward to house sitting for Andie and getting to use her dance room. I figured out what was making my right foot hurt so much more than my left, I need to pull up out of my shoe. That's gonna take a lot of retraining and conditioning. A lot of practice. The more I practice, the faster I advance.
And now that I've had a taste of what it's like to not have the choice to practice, I realize the importance of it. I'll gladly have the pain, it means I'm progressing.
I got home and looked down at my shoes. I realized again that they are mine.
I own pointe shoes.
I am on pointe.
This isn't someone else's pair I'm borrowing.
This isn't observing the girl next to me.
This isn't internet research.
This is reality.
This is beautiful, painful, glorious reality.
I want to dance as long as I have legs. My heart is so full.
I am so grateful to have this opportunity.
<3

Bailando

My dance teacher is the producer of an annual dance festival here in town. This year was the 14th year for Bailando Dance Festival, but the first year for me to attend. Last year I was out of town for work the weekend they had it. This year they wanted to take my gallbladder on the first day of master classes. I had them change it, I didn't want to miss it again.
I'm sure I'll have a few different posts of different things I learned from the various classes and performances of the festival, but this one I want to write about what the adjudicators said after the first night of performances.
There were three adjudicators; Erin Reck, Irene Ko, and Paula Garza. The first night, some of the performances were less than stellar. Lacking here and there in various areas, but there were ones, of course, that stood out and were really impressive. This night also had more variety of styles of dance, including a belly dance as the finale. Not everyone stayed for the adjudication, but I wanted to hear what they had to say about the dance our IDT girls were in and my friend Sarah G choreographed. As they went through each dance in order, everyone respectfully stayed in their seats until all of them were finished--it's the respectful thing to do--except for one company. They were the second to last dance, and instead of waiting for the simple commentary of the final dance, the entire company (which was quite large) got up and left.
The sound of the chair seats snapping as they all stood was extreme loud and distracting, not to mention the shuffling feet and rustling of clothing. More than one person turned around in awe that someone could be so rude.
Honestly, it was their loss.
None of the adjudicators were experts in the field of belly dancing, but that didn't matter. What stood out was resounding and impossible to overlook.
These ladies were able to draw in their audiences and keep their attention not by showing off skin or swishing their hips, but instead by their passion for the dance style. Each one of them was having so much fun, that it radiated off the stage and captivated the audience. It didn't matter if they got everything exactly correct or not, no one could see it past their passion.
This spoke volumes to me, especially with the advanced holiday showcase dance coming around, and being the understudy of sorts. It makes me nervous, because I know that I don't "look like a dancer." I am not gifted with a natural grace or charisma when it comes to this. Even though I am now twenty-five years old, I still find myself rather nervous and insecure, especially when it comes to new styles of dance. I'd love to try a modern/contemporary or lyrical class, but I have no knowledge of it, and fear that I would just pick up right where I left off as an eleven year old--awkward and laughed at.
But, that shouldn't matter to me. What should matter is that I just love to dance. I love to move, to express, to release everything through a variation of steps.
And honestly, that will shine through, even if my technique is lacking.
This shouldn't be an excuse to be lax on my technique, but it should be a comfort to know that passion counts for something.
Does that make sense?
I sure hope so.
Because it really meant a lot to me, to my heart.

Too far ahead.

Jilissa pointed out something in the beginner class that really made more sense in the advanced as I found myself falling prey to it.
She noticed that when we are trying to do a combination that has components we either aren't familiar with or aren't confident in, we tend to lose what we already know.
We turn our foot in on a glissade, we do our pas de bourree the wrong direction, we forget to plie.
These basic building blocks that should be what keeps us stable through the unknown becomes what falters in our fear.
She told us we're looking to far ahead.
We're worrying too much about the step we don't know coming up, that we lose the steps right now that we already know when if we would just get through what we know; a. it looks better, and b. it makes the unknown easier to execute  and more understandable.
This reminded me of ways the Lord has handled fear I've come to Him with.
I get so worked up over things in the future that my panic affects the now. Instead, if I would just keep myself calm and worry about the future when it gets here, I'll realize all the panic was for nothing.
I'm not there yet, why would I waste the time worrying about something that's not even in front of me yet?
I can take it on when I get there, and more than likely everything will work out just fine.
I'll be smarter, I'll be stronger, I'll have more confidence.
I'll be just fine.

Do the moves I know that are in front of me, and when I get to the new I'll be in the right position to face it with an outcome of success.

There goes a fighter.

There were a few different things from yesterday's class that I wanted to write about.
I remembered them at the end of class, but by the time I got to where I could write it down, I had forgotten.
I can remember what I was looking at, what I was taking in of my surroundings when she said it, but I can't remember what it was she said...
Something about gaining strength, I think.

I got upset at myself, because there were things we were doing that I know I knew and understood, but I couldn't get my brain to process enough to actually do them. I guess now that I've finally accepted the fact that I'm sick, the walls have come down and it's laying on me full force. I haven't really been able to eat anything, and that's especially bad on a dance day. My brain just couldn't handle it all. It literally hurt at the end of the class.

Jilissa encouraged us. She asked us what it was that begged us to dance. Why is it that we spend so much time doing this thing? Especially us older ones, what is it that makes us keep coming back? The girls were saying, "because it feels good" as I was thinking, "It's what makes me feel alive." She was saying the way you talk about your time there is a direct reflection of your attitude while being there. This should be our happy place, not something we dread.
That's just it. It is my happy place. Even when the days are really difficult and I can't make it through.
This is what makes me feel alive. When something goes wrong, this is where I want to be. When I want to feel safe, when I want security, when I want to feel accomplished, when I desire to feel love--I want to be at the studio.
And that's what makes this sickness that's holding me back so much harder to deal with. Because it's keeping me from feeling alive. It's keeping me from feeling that sense of accomplishment, from excelling, from improving and enjoying it all. Jilissa said she could tell that as I got frustrated, it just sapped my joy right out of me.
She said we all have days like this--where we feel defeated, where we feel limited, the days we have to fight through. She asked me, "How long have you been dancing?" "Two years in October." I replied.
Everyone reacted in disbelief. "What?!" "That's it?" "Are you serious?" All at once.
"Well, I took when I was little, but I was taught wrong, so I don't really consider it much..."
"Oh my goodness! That's amazing!"

Sometimes I get so upset on how far I want to go that I forget to remember how far I've come.
I've only been in dance--where I'm learning correctly--for almost two years, and where am I? I'm on pointe, I'm in the advanced class, I'm keeping up with the big dogs mostly. After only two years.
Sure, I'm not where I want to be yet. I'm not able to go where I know I'm capable, but I'm so much farther than when I first began. I've overcome so many obstacles. I've pressed through so many difficult days. And it's worth it.
Here comes a fighter.

Uncomfortable strength.

I swear, it's like Jilissa knows that's she's speaking straight to my soul as she gives us these analogies.
During yesterday's class, she challenged us and explained how we're not going to improve unless we're willing to try things we never have before. If we don't bring our leg higher in arabesque, it's never going to get higher. If we never develope higher, it's never going to improve.
She told us, "You have to get it to a place where it's uncomfortable. Not push to far to where you hurt yourself, but you have to constantly push yourself farther."
Then she looked me straight in the eyes as she scanned across the room as she said, " If you're not willing to be uncomfortable, you'll never get stronger."

Cue where my life is right now.
Everything is uncomfortable. Everything is uncertain. This has become all too common for me, but still difficult to digest. And yesterday, I had been loaded with information of potential things to happen that just makes you step back and kinda take it all in, and it just kept coming after class. So much happening all at once, so much change. I have to decide if I'm going to keep myself held up in things from the past, or if I'm going to let go of each day as it ends and keep pushing forward.
This is difficult, because there are so many beloved memories in the past. But the time is coming to where I have to leave them to just memories.
This is a journey, and I'm not yet at the destination. That being the case, I have to keep going. The journey is continuing. I'm along for this ride of life.
And it is indeed a beautiful one.