An Allegro Anecdote: “I Can’t Turn Left.”

“It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me by any means, but, man, it makes for a good story.”

“I can’t turn left.” Many automatically think of the classic Ben Stiller comedy Zoolander when they hear this phrase. I, however, have actually said this when referring to myself.

In the winter of 2009, I was diagnosed in the West Hartford, Conn. ER with vertigo. Two days previous, the morning after Valentine’s Day, I rouse with a sensation of dizziness like nothing I had ever experienced. Each time I tried to focus my eyes, my gaze was repeatedly pulled downward. I was perpetually on the down slope of a roller coaster. I rested the entire day, tried unsuccessfully to nourish myself (everything came immediately back up), and of course called my Primary Care Physician for life-my Mom. I explained the circumstances, but my mother warily kept implying that I might’ve had “one too many” the night before. (True, we were in singles V-Day celebration mode-cosmopolitan style-the night before) But as my symptoms persisted, I knew it was not at all related.

I went to bed praying/assuming that this weird experience would have exhausted itself by the A.M.—WRONG…conditions remained the same the next day. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t go to dance classes, I couldn’t even watch TV in bed comfortably. The severity and persistence of my symptoms quickly got my Mom’s attention. She left work early and drove the hour and a half down to my college to accompany me to the ER. Finally, (after a long and fearful wait in the height of flu season) I was seen and diagnosed with a bout of vertigo. I wasn’t given much explanation, and was quickly sent home with an anti-nausea med prescription and motion sickness relief patches. I was told the symptoms would gradually fade on their own…

As a student whose college major involves movement about 90% of the time, I had to get back into the groove. But I struggled to get back into dance class. I could only do half of class, and the extreme motion I constantly felt required me to cling to the barre for dear life. The nausea med helped, but the motion sickness patches put me over the edge-the side effects hit me hard. The eye on the same side of my head as the patch (you only put one behind the ear on one side of the body) became severely dilated and my vision blurred. Now I was a vertigo inflicted college student, with blurred vision and one psycho dilated eye. Great.

So I went to see a specialist. I was given a series of tests, involving sound and the condition of my ears. The diagnosis-I had been coming down with a virus prior to the onset of vertigo. In response, the nerve controlling my balance within my left inner ear had swelled as a defense mechanism. Enough to the point that I had lost control of my balance and developed vertigo. As my inner ear readjusted, the vertigo would lessen, but it would take an undetermined amount of time. (Supposedly) I would never experience vertigo again.

“I survived two episodes of losing my greatest gifts-my balance and my control of movement.”

As a dancer, the vertigo proved to be quite a handicap for the 3-4 months it took to fizzle out. Because my left ear was the one primarily involved, I had a reoccurring struggle with any movement led by the left side of my body. Pirouettes to the left were a terrible thing for a long time. I struggled in modern class too. Already the ultimate “bunhead”, now in addition, anything too off-center or involving inversion was practically impossible. I was constantly uncoordinated, and was concerned about my progress. It was a stressful time. But it all turned out okay…for about five years…

In the spring of 2014, vertigo again came knocking at my door. This time, I took to the stage. As an apprentice with Ballet Theatre of Maryland, I had a performance that evening. Nothing like timing right? I didn’t have too much responsibility in the show that weekend, but I also didn’t have a solid understudy. I felt pretty uncomfortable attempting to dance under stage lighting and strobe lights, but I didn’t have a choice. I did a low key warm-up that night, enough to get by, and friends and co-workers were on high alert backstage, in case I needed to make an impromptu getaway off the stage (potentially to a trash can). I went out there and modified like whoa. It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me by any means, but, man, it makes for a good story.

Dancers have thick skin (I mean, literally, too…those calluses!). I survived two episodes of losing my greatest gifts-my balance and my control of movement. In my current state, I now have the time and flexibility to truly take care of myself-mentally and physically. Would I have still had vertigo twice if I hadn’t been in the midst of two strenuous, performing arts programs? Probably! But I would have been able to better take care of myself afterwards, and therein lies the difference. It’s okay to push, but treating yourself like a human is okay too. As a dancer, these struggles seemed insurmountable. But they are also distinguishing challenges that have brought me to this point. There’s satisfaction in knowing I’ve survived it all.

An Allegro Anecdote: The Duct Tape Fiasco

“Spending numerous hours either aggressively dancing or standing around awaiting rehearsal in pointe shoes, I needed a tape option that would stay on my feet all day…Hence, the introduction of duct tape into my dance supplies.”

Plaids. Penguins. Stars. Stripes. Florals. All cute patterns, right? In this case, though, I am actually referring to some of the many kinds of duct tape I’ve used throughout my dance career. Now if you’re not a dancer, you’re probably thinking, “what does this chick need duct tape for?” I started using duct tape about four years ago, as a super resilient alternative for toe tape.

Repetitive work, literally on the toes, can create a bit of a disaster for the skin and nails of a ballerina’s feet. It’s customary for dancers of all levels to apply a “toe pad” of choice and/or protective tape and/or bandaids to individual toes while dancing en pointe. Spending numerous hours either aggressively dancing or standing around awaiting rehearsal in pointe shoes, I needed a tape option that would stay on my feet all day despite blood, sweat..and tears, I guess. Hence, the introduction of duct tape into my dance supplies.

The longer I’ve used duct tape, the more interesting the designs have become! Florescent pink used to be my most exciting option, but now they have everything from paisley florals to macaroni and cheese (always discussed amongst my friends as a great option, but then again, I feel awkward putting images of pasta with melted cheese all over my foul smelling feet…).

I remember once mentioning to my Dad that I had duct tape on my toes. Protective Italian father that he is, he panicked. “Why are you using industrial strength tape on your toes?!” (Good question, but it seemed irrelevant at the time) I responded with some sort of, ‘I know what I’m doing’ comeback. But father certainly knew best.

One of my favorite pics of myself ever....note that tape, lurking at the bottom right!! PC - Keith Alan Sprouse
One of my favorite pics of myself ever….note that tape, lurking at the bottom right!! PC – Keith Alan Sprouse

Now this particular disaster actually happened to me twice. However, the play-by-play of the second experience was particularly hilarious…Flashback to over a year ago, a typical day in the life of a professional dancer – dancing, immediately followed by a few hours of teaching. With just a little time in between these two blocks of time, I had left on all the duct tape I’d applied to my toes earlier. After teaching, I took a moment in my dressing room to change out of dance clothes and remove all the tape from my feet. In my haste to leave and feeling “maxed” out from my day, I overzealously tugged the piece off that surrounded my big toe (which one, I honestly can’t remember). Blood started pouring out of the pad of my big toe as I stared at it, confused and in disbelief. The tape had stubbornly clung to one of my calluses and pulled a large chunk of skin with it-the flesh I had lost still bound to the tape. I did my best to audibly mask my anger, shock, and pain (an academy class going on just outside the room), as I tried to figure out what to do. I hobbled over to a box of tissues and stuck a huge chunk to my toe. I assumed I’d just need to do this once or twice, but that wound kept on gushing, one wad of kleenex after the other.

” ‘Why are you using industrial strength tape on your toes?!’ (Good question…) I responded with some sort of, ‘I know what I’m doing’ comeback. “

Enough time passed that I realized I had to leave that room for assistance and supplies. But there was the issue of having to hobble across a studio full of young students with a bleeding toe, so I literally phoned for help from the other room. I shamefully called my friend at the front desk of the dance studio to fetch me some first aid supplies. With her she brought not only band-aids, gauze, and ointment, but also our company podiatrist and my two co-directors. Initially shocked to find me curled up on the floor tending to a gushing wound, we all eventually also found some humor in the unusual situation.

I spent the rest of the following week reminded of my mistake each morning, as I re-wrapped my wounded toe. It required Neosporin, a band-aid, and a good amount of self-adhering gauze in order to protect the “hole” I’d created. All this to somewhat lessen the pain of stepping on or pointing the toe. Of course, I had an in-studio performance the following Friday in which I was supposed to dance barefoot. I was thankfully able to ween myself off of a great deal of the gauze by that point, and managed to perform the piece with only a small amount for protection.

The duct tape fiasco was a grave error and something that would only happen to me, but I had learned my lesson for the time being. However, I must admit, I still tape my toes with duct tape to this day…but I take my sweet time and attention when removing it.

Don't try this at home. PC - Keith Alan Sprouse
Don’t try this at home. PC – Keith Alan Sprouse

The Joy Of..Teaching: Part Two

“…how I choose to communicate…determines if they will sink or swim…Sometimes the feeling is empowering. Sometimes, it’s downright overwhelming.”

Two full weeks of teaching have been completed. I’ve met new students, greeted familiar faces, and made beginning of the year announcements about dress code and “ballet buns”…but now the real work begins. I’ve seen what everyone can do, gauged the capabilities of my classes, and taken (mental) note of who needs what and why. There’s not much different about this year than any other year. I step into my sixth year of teaching fully ready to progress my young charges and take on any challenges they may present. As I crank out the class plans though, I know that despite the importance of the content, it’s how I choose to communicate that determines if they will sink or swim.

PC - Nina Staeben
PC – Nina Staeben

What I love about teaching (here it is…) is the difference I can make. Sometimes the feeling is empowering. Sometimes, it’s downright overwhelming. I could very well choose to play it safe each class. And not to jump on the defensive, but there are many out there who do not appreciate the work of ballet teachers. “What’s the big deal?” “Life goes on, right?” It’s true that the world does not desperately require teachers of dance. But whether I’m giving freedom to a child who needs to release excess energy, or prepping a professional dancer of tomorrow, I know that what I’m doing is important. And, furthermore, it is by no means easy. I could just be a glorified babysitter for my young students, but I would much rather take pride in the fact that I am able to control a room full of 4-year olds and hear them confidently shout out “plié!” and “relevé!” in reference to movement.

PC - Jen O'Keefe
PC – Jen O’Keefe

Some of my favorite teachers were the ones that demanded pristine technique, but also knew how to make class time an enjoyable experience. I truly believe that having a sense of humor is crucial. We’re all going to make mistakes, we may fall (heck, I do that quite often, sometimes tragically), but at the end of the day, we’re all in this together. This attitude is extra important in a studio full of young dancers. The more that children progress technically, the more information there is for them to digest, essentially. As the pressure to improve and expand their knowledge grows, I like to lighten the mood I guess. Just drilling away at tendus for thirty minutes isn’t necessarily helpful, but having a clear understanding of what we’re looking for and why and seeing a visual contrast between beautiful and just plain silly, helps make a difference the next time the students step into the studio. At younger ages, the contrast between “ballerina behavior” and just plain standin’ around pickin’ your nose cracks kids up. It’s a tool I can’t pass up, and I love a good laugh anyway, so everyone wins.

“I know that what I’m doing is important. And…by no means [is it] easy…I…take pride in the fact that I am able to control a room full of 4-year olds and hear them confidently shout out ‘plié!’ and ‘relevé!’ in reference to movement.”

Gifts from teacher-I take so much pride in making these-my most witty of gifts, shown here..
Gifts from teacher – I take so much pride in making these – my most witty of gifts, shown here..

Despite all the laughs though, I always want to set a standard of excellence for my students. With hands on corrections and visual demos, the goal is to help students understand the adjustments we are looking for, both visually and physically (or verbally-it depends on what kind of learner you are!). My Achilles heel of teaching, however, is talking too much and not wanting to let certain things go. The need to press on and cover certain ground always exists, but why put off until tomorrow what you can do today? There’s no time like the present-might as well fix that port de bras or take a deeper look into those pirouettes.

Birthday love <3
Birthday love ❤

Expectations and goals are fine and dandy, but what’s most important is actually dancing. Do I want to create the sharpest, quickest, and cleanest dancers? Yes!! (Please!) But I also just want them to enjoy themselves! They’re most likely there for a particular reason, and for a large percentage, it’s because they just love to move. They relate to dance and movement. It is a language that their bodies understand, and their time in the studio is precious to them. I can only hope that the advice I give, the jokes I make, and the encouragement I offer, are things they will remember and appreciate as they continue down their own life paths.

The Joy Of..Teaching: Part One

“Learning how to best teach others helped me understand how to further “teach myself” and refine my technique.”

When I started out as a B.F.A. undergrad at The Hartt School at the University of Hartford, I idolized my future life as a professional dancer. I knew that following the path of a B.F.A. was the best choice for me, to ensure further training, while also completing general studies and a college degree. However, I also assumed that after college, my life would prominently feature performance. What I didn’t realize was the passion I would find for teaching along the way.

Upon entering Hartt’s conservatory-style dance program, I was required to take a pedagogy course for my first year of studies. Working on technique in this in depth manner, not only gave me limitless teaching tools for future students but also for myself. Clarifying terminology, body positions, and arabesques from different schools of thought (for the crowd unfamiliar with ballet-there are some differences that exist in different schools of teaching; the three primary ballet syllabi being..the Vaganova method or Russian training, the Cecchetti method or Italian training, and the RAD method or British training), simultaneously helped me fill in any gaps in my training along the way. Learning how to best teach others helped me understand how to further “teach myself” and refine my technique. My college requisite quickly began to evolve into a future possibility and interest.

“…throughout my entire dance career, my teaching has kept me afloat. It is how I support myself. [without it] I simply wouldn’t have made it out alive.”

Setting foot on the pathway towards a dance career requires a “plan B”. Even the utmost profound confidence in one’s future as a professional dancer should be accompanied by a backup plan in case of personal injury. With knowledge of this fact as well as future financial realities, I realized a professional education in ballet pedagogy would be a valuable asset. So, after completing a full-year as a B.F.A. in Performance, I changed my game plan. A year older, a bit wiser, and cognizant of the possibilities at my fingertips (practically like receiving a double major in dance, all for the reasonable price of one degree!…cough, cough-college loans forever), I adjusted my plan and became a Ballet Pedagogy major instead.

Despite the internships, the observation hours, the consistent and ever-present Richard Glasstone articles, I wouldn’t change my decision for anything. (I think I may have read and discussed every single Glasstone article for my teacher Hilda Morales…“Some Thoughts On”…port de bras, epaulement, allegro…you name it, he thought about it…much to the disdain of myself and my small class of fellow pedagogy majors) I wish I had decided upon my path from day one, but at least I figured it out eventually.

As I write this post this week, I realize what a different time this is for me. I didn’t think I would ever encounter a time when I was only teaching (silly Liz)…or at least I have not yet ever felt ready for such a thing. But over the past year, and really throughout my entire dance career, my teaching has kept me afloat. It is how I support myself. If I had ever desperately tried to exist solely on my meager dancer wages these past five years, I simply wouldn’t have made it out alive. Teaching is my “B”. It is a way for me to be directly involved and to preach what I know. Although it is not me, personally, dancing, it’s pretty darn close.

Back To (Ballerina) School

“I love this time of year. I thrive off the thrill of day one.”

September looms before us as students, young and old, head back to school. The nights are a bit more crisp, school sales are underway, and Halloween decorations have somehow crept onto store shelves. Bear with me, because this all makes me rather nostalgic. A truth has hit me (and I accept it willingly, but need to talk it out of course): this is the first year of my life since I was five years old that I will not be “going back to school”, so to speak. Obviously, for 17 of those years, I was truly attending an academic institution of some kind. However, the past five years of my life I have started each late August with a “first day of school” as well. “Ballerina school” – five years of company life.

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Just another day at school – happy ballerina – April 2015

I know I’m not the only one that treats the first day back for the company season as the fantastic fresh start that it is. Just as a student preps with a backpack full of fresh notebooks, their coolest outfit, and the yummiest lunch, a dancer preps their shoes, their best leo, and the lunch and snack that will fuel their long day back. It’s clean slate time. Although not all mistakes may have been forgotten, the purity of summer allows even dancers a chance to unwind and be real people. The possibilities are endless now, there are new faces and old friends, spirits are high, and the road that is the next year of your life is laid out before you.

I love this time of year. I thrive off the thrill of day one. Freshness (I’m convinced I have a low grade case of OCD), new beginnings, organization, and plans, plans, plans. But this year is not like the rest. There will be no first day of school for me (for those of you who haven’t heard). It is not ideal, and, honestly, it makes me sad. But it’s what’s happening. A year ago today I took a fall (Balanchine loved dancers who fell, by the way). It was obviously a stumbling point, and it has caused me to stumble again and again, but I won’t let it be an end point.

“What if nothing else besides dancing makes me happy?”

I don’t know when I’ll have another opportunity to be on-stage…another opportunity to pour out joy and emotion and leave it there for the taking…but I know that the skepticism I have about the road ahead is okay and it’s natural. Sometimes this is where the true magic lies–in the unexpected.

I admit I am questioning things. Because I like to know what I’m doing…I like a good plan. Not knowing what I’m meant to do next is killing me. What if nothing else besides dancing makes me happy? (teaching dance makes me happy, but in an entirely different way-that’s a convo for another time…soon) What if there isn’t a replacement, a supplement for it? I’m afraid that I won’t be content with anything else…But I’m trying to figure it all out because that’s what I do. That’s me.

So to all my good friends who have started school – regular schooling or “ballerina school” – good luck. Put your best foot forward and plunge into the new.

To ballet company life – this isn’t goodbye, it’s see you later.

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“the true magic lies-in the unexpected.” PC – Wendy Grande

Just Like The Pros

“…the world of ballet [is much more] than just going to class and performing. It is a culture and a lifestyle.”

They say that “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” (Charles Caleb Colton) As we each create our own personal journey as dancers, it is only natural that habits and inspirations are gathered along the way. I can remember the extreme distraction, fear/utter respect, and curiosity I felt whenever I was around a professional dancer. I wanted to dance, walk, talk, dress, and altogether BE like them. Now, despite any qualms I may ever have about myself as a professional, I can “feel” the eyes that evaluate my movements as well.

There is much more to the world of ballet than just going to class and performing. It is a culture and a lifestyle. The fashion, hairstyles, cross training, eating habits, and even character traits of dancers are greatly affected by their profession.

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” –Charles Caleb Colton

When I consider some of the important elements that construct my life as a dancer, it is safe to say that many of those details I “stole” from others or adapted as my own. Hairstyles (I’ve watched Sara Mearns’ instructional French twist video on YouTube, and I have perfected a braided hairstyle that I developed from Sarah Lamb), leotards (you better pair those two Yumi colors you like together first before someone else does, or you’re just going to look like a copycat), warmup apparel choices (everyone got on the dance overalls “train” at some point or has cut up a pair of tights to make a shrug; also, trash bag clothing is everything)…Ballet is really quite the fashion world. Even if you’re not on the cover of Pointe Magazine, someone may very well be eyeing your leo and thinking that if they had that very one they’d be a beautiful dancer too.

The world of dance can feel like a foreign place as you take your first steps into the professional world. Thankfully, there will always be opportunities to learn from one another and from the pros we admire above us. As we grow as artists, we gather information and assistance as needed from others – recommendations or personal touches that keep us in touch with our dance culture and that help us further our career or passion for ballet. After all, dance is a hard enough endeavor – the least we can do for one another is share some tricks of the trade.

Back To Basics

“…strength and energy, experience, and understanding. To an extent, a more mature dancer has all these tools, but I definitely took for granted the continuous maintenance…required for ballet.”

A dancer’s ballet technique can undergo constant evolution. The criteria that produce an excellent dancer are by no means black and white after all. Mastery of a step or concept does not guarantee your “ownership” of that progress for life. Although all art forms and physical activities require practice and diligence, ballet requires a special brand of patience and supervision.

I’ve spent the past week standing alongside my students. Taking class and working on the basics-things I’ve done millions of times before, but things that still benefit me.  Although age and experience grant us a sense of muscle memory for many movements and also choreography, there is still room for error and regression (not to be depressing).

I remember that as a young student I assumed, to some degree, that as an older, more mature dancer, the pathway was “only up” from there-easier coordination, a broad dance vocabulary, muscle memory, infinite strength and energy, experience, and understanding. To an extent, a more mature dancer has all these tools, but I definitely took for granted the continuous maintenance (in truth, A GREATER AMOUNT of maintenance) required for ballet. Whether I am taking class on a daily basis or returning after a short hiatus, I find myself not only making adjustments and correcting errors, but also discovering new areas for improvement. In layman’s terms, never a dull moment. I hate to play the strict teacher card (but actually, I love it), but if you’re bored in (any level) class or not feeling challenged, you must not be working very hard.

The constant battle for the “it was perfect” (Black Swan) moment is what keeps a lot of us going isn’t it? For all the perfectionist, OCD types out there (like myself), ballet is an art form that constantly offers a challenge – things to fix, new approaches to investigate, new characters and emotions to explore. A world of perpetual art, whether you’re refining your technique or simply going back to the basics.

Center Stage – Every Girl’s Dream (?)

“…the film brings honor to the art of ballet and the strife of dancers of all ages, [but], logistically, there are some snags in the fabric of the happy ending that Jody Sawyer selects.”

The past few days for me have been more than eventful. There are no words to describe the happiness and pride that radiates from attending and supporting the wedding day of a dear friend. This past Wednesday I packed my bags, wrapped my Bed, Bath, & Beyond goodies for the bride and groom, hung my cornflower blue bridesmaid dress in the backseat of my car and set the GPS for New York. From Wednesday evening through the late hours of Sunday, there was time to reconnect with close friends and to begin new friendships too. Amidst the bachelorette festivities, introductions to the groom’s family and friends, and some good ol’ manicures of course, three of us bridesmaids set aside time for a movie. Two of us dancers, one not, we obviously chose the 2000 classic, Center Stage

Whenever I curl up to enjoy this movie, I never cease to be amused by its antics and also occasionally confused by its values. While the film brings honor to the art of ballet and the strife of dancers of all ages, logistically there are some snags in the fabric of the happy ending that Jody Sawyer selects.  While I truly enjoy every late 90’s jam of the soundtrack, the classic beating of the pointe shoes scene, and the pure beauty of the authentic artistry of Julie Kent and Ethan Stiefel, my, perhaps hundredth, glance at the values within makes me retrospectively fear for my young self as a viewing audience.

As I hovered around a laptop this past week with my two friends, we laughed in amusement/shock as we watched Amanda Schull’s character develop—a young girl with clearly no appropriate concept of relationships as she entangles herself within the life of her “boyfriend”/choreographer (a million times quoted, because they literally have one passionate encounter and then never date or interact outside the studio again…come on Jody, you’re better than this…aren’t you?). Who can blame her for falling for his bad boy charm and flawless technique, but girl, this ain’t the time! You are on the brink of your career! There are bigger “fish to fry” for god-sake. While the doe-eyed lead’s obsession with this male figure makes for the perfect dance-meets-love mini-drama, it’s also a concerning snapshot of the dominance of male authoritative power within the dance world.

“While I truly enjoy every late 90’s jam of the soundtrack, the classic beating of the pointe shoes scene, and the pure beauty of…authentic artistry…my, perhaps hundredth, glance at the values within makes me retrospectively fear for my young self as a viewing audience.”

Curtains closed on the final performance, Jody dons her semi-formal attire to hear whether or not her fate includes ABC (the “American Ballet Company”). While her decision here is gutsy, I  actually find it rather terrifying. It makes for great movie content, but Jody again falls headfirst into the outstretched arms of Cooper Nielson, and accepts a (potentially non-existent) principal dancer role in a brand new company. No, no, no, no!! Where’s the contract? Where’s the funding?! Are there even other dancers?!! Jody asks zero questions, and dives right into the opportunity. As an uber-organized, planning obsessed, practical individual, I naturally struggle with this, but now with five years of professional experience and additional years of training under my belt, I can tell you that that is not the way to accept a job. It’s the perfect lack of detail to cue the happy ending, Mandy Moore track, and end credits, but if you’re going to survive as a “bunhead” out there please don’t take a page from Jody Sawyer’s book.

Don’t get me wrong, this will forever be one of my favorite dance movies-a film that brings dancers and non-dancers alike together under the guise of the ballet world and its complexities. However, if I stood near Jody at barre I’d have to snicker to myself a bit and wonder, “girl, what are you doing with your life?” After all…

“I am the best goddamn dancer in the American Ballet Academy. Who the hell are you?!”

Searching For Words

“…words come when they are needed. And when there aren’t sufficient words, that’s okay too.”

A routine is difficult. Establishing and protecting the integrity of our habits and rituals is part of what defines our personalities. In the wake of current events (#prayforOrlando, #LoveisLove), any semblance of routine I find to be welcome. While we all grieve differently, it serves as a typical defense mechanism to bury ourselves in work, routine, laughter, and distraction. Some find this inappropriate, but there is no wrong way to heal.

A little over a year ago I took on a new weekly routine. I vowed to myself that on a weekly basis, every Tuesday evening I would prepare a blog post related to the world of dance and my exploration as a professional dancer and dance teacher, to be posted bright and early Wednesday A.M.. When considering the frequency, a daily post felt like too much of a commitment, whereas the bi-weekly option seemed like a cop-out. So I went with a weekly commitment.

I’ve skipped a week here and there (this being my 47th post) for various reasons-sickness, vacation/family time, lack of the appropriate words to describe my feelings…Although my routine is flexible and something that I personally control, I’ve done my best to develop this habit in a religious fashion. Two Sundays ago, I sat in the pew of the church I grew up in years ago, sandwiched between my mother and my childhood dance teacher. As our priest began the weekly homily, it occurred to me that his reflections on the word of God are a weekly responsibility-one that the entire congregation depends on. While the readings we study and the topics he chooses to explore vary each week, as the liturgical year passes, the moral lessons and insight generally remain the same. Now, I don’t mean to compare myself  to a pastor who delivers the word of God each week. Rather, I address the challenge of our rituals, even those we hold dear to our hearts.

With such a broad spectrum of possibilities, it can be difficult to corral one’s thoughts into a strong hypothesis each week. But nine times out of ten, we try to make it happen for ourselves. Because whether your ritual is a religion or a passion or a way of life, it is something you love and care deeply about. It can be difficult to cultivate new thoughts & ideas, but words come when they are needed. And when there aren’t sufficient words, that’s okay too.

I struggle…with this blog sometimes, and with a million other things, trivial and consequential. But I know I am not alone. I know that everything happens for a reason (happens for a reason blog link), and I cherish this time in my life because it is mine to mold as I wish. Thank you to all of you, who support me on my journey by visiting me here each week. You are the fuel that energizes me, and know that I am here for you too.

Care. Listen. Breathe. Repeat.

“…a series of discouraging events…Time off, missed roles and shows, a walking boot fashioned with a small decorative blue bow, physical therapy, x-rays, an MRI…-negative highlights of this past year…the positives I’ll save for later…”

This is not a normal blog (it’s more like a small rant)…targeted at my ankle, not at an actual person, to clarify. Today, I present you with the question of “why?” I know everything happens for a reason, I’ve preached that myself, but I still don’t understand why physical harm occurs. Why? What’s the bigger picture? I haven’t reached an answer for that one. So I reach out to you.

Back in September, I experienced a fall while dancing that set into motion a series of discouraging events. A ballerina’s season from hell, to put it bluntly. Time off, missed roles and shows, a walking boot fashioned with a small decorative blue bow, physical therapy, x-rays, an MRI, taping, fear of jumping, self-doubt, tears, anger-negative highlights of this past year (the positives I’ll save for later, so just let me roll with this for now). According to the diagnosis I received eight months ago, I’m missing something in my right ankle—my ATFL (anterior tibiofibular ligament). Unfortunately, it did not just walk off on a journey of self-discovery, perhaps able to be convinced to return. No, it’s torn in two sad, little pieces. Fixable pieces, I believe, since surgery was offered to me, but pieces, nonetheless.

I’ve spent the past eight months since this news, trying my best to overcome my “shortcoming.” After all, the phenomenal Ashley Bouder dances sans ACL all the time! But after about four minor inversion ankle sprains, postdating my original tear to the ATFL, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s time to ask for help. Maybe the only way for me to regain stability, a feeling of safety, and courage to dance without limitation is to have this damage repaired.

So if you’re listening, I’m sure you most certainly don’t have an answer as to “why?” Yes, strength and wisdom comes with the territory, as I continue on this journey, but I feel enlightened enough at this point. I surrender. Each time I feel my body fail me, I lose confidence all over again (excellent article regarding the physical and emotional stresses of injury by Dance Magazine). Knowing what I lack and the associated risks I take each day haunts me all over again. I become afraid to misstep, afraid to cross train, afraid to enjoy myself, afraid to dance. And so, I lose a piece of myself. However, despite the loss, I rebuild each time, fine-tuning the process along the way. I know to care for myself, listen, and breathe. The recovery quickens, but the frustration silently mounts in the shadows. So maybe it’s time to ask for help…

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This guy’s been in charge all year & he’s not givin’ up yet…