A novel topic

I think I must be a recovering blog addict!  After writing blog posts diligently and consistently over the past several years, I seem to be taking a blogging break.  Not having Internet at home really limits my blogging activities.  But I have found a way around that obstacle today.

And I honestly don’t really know what to write about.  I could write about Oakland or work or life activities or my family or what I’m learning at fellowship.  But today I want to write about ballet—a topic I haven’t discussed much on this blog.

Tonight I would be going to my weekly ballet class, but since it is a rare 90 degrees outside, that means it will be approximately 106.3 degrees in the old studio in Berkeley, where air conditioning doesn’t exist.  So I will dream about it.

Of all the things I’ve ever done in life, ballet is one thing that has consistently brought the most joy for many years and now decades.  Not only was I built for ballet, but I love it.  So many other activities and pursuits in life have come and gone, but ballet is one thing I remain passionate about.  In ballet class, I have to think hard, but each movement seems to come naturally.  I know it wasn’t always that way—I had to train for years and years, but it is a wonderful feeling.  It is a wonderful feeling when everything else I seem to do or try feels like varying degrees of uneasiness or awkwardness:  Jobs.  Learning languages.  Conversing with people.  Playing tennis or other sports.  Dating.  Serving in church.

I appreciate the structure ballet offers.  There are hundreds of movements and steps.  You don’t just make up stuff, like most of the culture around me seems to do with everything else.  In ballet, you either do something correctly and beautifully or you don’t.  There seems to be sort of an absolute truth with ballet.  There are standards and I can know if I have reached them or are close.  In society around me and in other circumstances, there often doesn’t seem to be much of a standard, or that standard is always fluid.  Yet, there is still room in ballet to express yourself within that structure. 

When the music starts and class begins at the barre, the rest of the world fades.  I don’t worry about the poverty in Oakland, the politics in the U.S., not being married, stress from work, or what is happening tomorrow.  Everything seems to dissipate and I feel like I could accomplish pretty much anything. 

I’m so thankful for the ability to dance and to dance well.  It has brought me such joy (not to mention very nice legs!)  In the few minutes following my accident when I saw the blood covering my arms and legs and couldn’t move them, I immediately worried about if I could continue dancing.  Thankfully I would be able to after a few months, although I will never be back to where I was.  And I think about the joy that it has brought others.  You can dance anytime and anywhere.  This skill was particularly handy in China, where I was able to be the crazy foreigner dancing in school performances and on national television...

I know I’m not the best dancer in the world, but it is one thing in life that I seemed to have mastered fairly well and hopefully can continue with for many years.  And so today instead of dwelling on poverty stats, crime rates, or the future, I thank the Father for blessing me with this amazing gift!  And I thank my patient, dear mother who put me in ballet class in the first place so many years ago after I attempted so many other sports, cooked dinner when I'd return from the studio really late, bought me countless bobby pins and pointe shoes, and listened to my complaints about the teacher and grueling pace of classes.  And thanks to everyone else who encouraged me to stick with it and not give up!