I had a thought a couple minutes ago: "If I didn't dance, I wouldn't have to feel this pain." Today, the left half of my back is whistling a happy tune while the right side feels like someone repeatedly bashed it with a baseball bat while I slept. Not in a minor "oh, that kind of aches" way, but a "I probably should ice this immediately" kind of way. How did THAT happen? I'm reviewing the new choreography I learned yesterday, and realizing it includes (but is not limited to): a) being held in the splits upside down, b) going up and down (releve in ballet terms) on my toes probably about a million times, and c) getting thrown around in general by three different men.
If something in there doesn't constitute a half terribly sore back among many other things (like not being sure I will be able to get up after writing this post and walk to the kitchen to make breakfast), I don't know what. Sometimes I wonder if all the pain is worth it.
And then I remember Italy. I was privileged to live in Italy on and off for a period of about two years. Florence was the city I resided in (about ten years ago now) and I am still fiercely loyal to the belief it is the best place in Italy. Not to be cliche, but it truly changed my life. I grew up in all the ways that are important-- mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. And yes, physically (you can't eat pasta twice a day without gaining a little bit of weight). In many ways, my heart still resides in Florence.
Florence (Firenze), Italy, where I lived for two years |
But I didn't get to dance while I was there. It was the only thing missing from the most formative time of my life. The only dance class I knew of took about an hour to get to by bus, and the language difference scared me off right off the bat. I know I probably would have really improved in my Italian if I'd stuck with it, but it was also expensive and I just didn't have the funds.
What did I learn from my hiatus from dance? That the body and spirit are completely connected. Later I would learn that I probably was suffering at times from a minor depression while I was there. I don't believe it was the lack of dance's fault. But I am convinced it probably played a role in keeping me down.
About a year after I moved back to the states, I began swing dancing and went back to ballet class to help distract myself from a bad breakup. And guess what? My spirits lifted almost as if someone had switched on a "sunshine" light in my heart. I can't tell you how wonderful I felt after dancing even for an hour. Call it endorphins or call it reconnecting with my passion and purpose in life, but God used it, among other things, to pull me out of a dark place. I'm forever grateful for the ability to express and love through ballet and other forms of dance in my life. It is at the core of my heart and to get me away from it, you're going to have to have drag me kicking and screaming.
Me as Pele in "Fire Dances" for Ballet Ariel's fall concert this October (photo by Peter Strand) |
And so, as I get up to soak my sore muscles and then ice them (and repeat), I have already forgotten this silly idea of not dancing to avoid the (temporary) physical pain. Not worth it.
What turns on the "sunshine" in your heart?
1 comment:
Thank you for sharing, Gina! This definitely speaks to me as I haven't had a dance class since leaving LDA. I'm so happy that you've returned to dance - I only wish I could come and see you perform!
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