hold me closer, tiny dancer
You know when dancers use the sayings ‘dance is life’ and all that kind of thing? I never once felt that way, in the eleven years I danced for.
People who have never danced, always talk about how they wish they could have danced; how they wish they could have had lessons; how they wish they could look as beautiful as those amazing dancers out there.
I never understood how on earth anyone could feel that way about dancing.
Until now.
See, I danced for eleven years. I started when I was about four and stopped last year. I was always dancing around the house and my mum thought that I should channel that creative energy into something productive, like dance lessons. It became a major part of my life as I grew older, especially because I was training two or three times a week; plus participating in competitions, eistedfods, exams and workshops.
But I never felt that it was something I loved, or something I couldn’t live without. And it always felt as though I was forced to go, even when I didn’t want to.
Truth be told, I actually really didn’t enjoy it all that much. I felt like I was suffocating; like I was being forced into something that I had lost all my passion for. Did I even really have the passion to begin with? Good question.
But my dance teacher thought I had potential; so she pushed me, along with the other group of girls that I grew up dancing with. God, I loved those girls so much. I still do.
I would sometimes cry when I didn’t want to go. Actually, I cried because I said I didn’t feel well or didn’t want to go for once; and my mum would make me.
So, when I decided that last year, (as in 2009) would be the last year I danced for, I felt I was doing the right thing. When I told my teacher that 2009 would be my last concert, she offered me a teaching job. I was apprehensive- I didn’t want to have to go back there at all.
The concert grew closer and closer, and before I knew it the day had arrived. I thought I wouldn’t be upset. I thought I had made up my mind very clearly. I thought I would be happier without it. I thought I didn’t have any passion left for dancing.
But as I walked out of the venue that night, it felt as though one half of me was liberated; a weight lifted right off my shoulders. Well, one shoulder. But the other half of me, felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and left it on the stage I had just walked away from.
And it confused the fuck out of me.
So I was lying in bed that night, and I realised that dancing really was my life. Well, I figured, an important aspect that consumed a stage in my life. It hurt so much to think about all of the memories I had from dancing; all of the things I learnt; the life long friendships that were built; being able to accept criticism as constructive.
But even though it killed me to think I had just finished an important stage of my life, it made me happy to know that I would be teaching kids who are going through the exact same phase in their lives that I went through.
I had to go back for a whole day today, to help choreograph concert dances. God, I miss those holiday dance camps.
Anyway, I was talking to one of the girls and she looked straight at me and said,
“I need dance.”
And the first thing I thought was, “Oh my dear lord, so do I.”
At least I have my teaching position, and I still get to dance. But now my passion is in teaching, because it was my choice to teach, my way of teaching, my way of communicating my creativity with others. It’s not being forced upon me. And I’m loving every second of it, even when it’s challenging or the kids are being difficult.
Now I truly understand the saying ‘dance is life’. It’s something I will always carry with me, even if I stop dancing, it will always be in my heart.
And that is dance in my world.
Love always,
Jesse. xx
