I'm writing this on a bit of high right now, so please excuse me if I'm all over the place!
Today (Saturday) I decided at the last minute to hit up another dance class at ODC. Since I decided so last minute and the bus typically takes about 45 minutes from my neighborhood to get to the studio, I two-fingers-in-the-mouth whistled a cab down (pretty impressed with my city girl skills on that one) and trekked up to the Mission. "That'll be $14 for the class today.", the receptionist said. "Oh, no, I have a pass." I replied. "No...that pass expired. It was only good for 90 days." ...rarrr. woof. waaa. boo. hiss. hrumph. *Insert 5 minutes of sitting on the curb outside to collect my incredibly annoyed self* The way I saw it I had two choices; I could head back home and wallow in grumpiness that I hadn't been told of the 90 day expiration and thus wasted a lot of money, or I could suck it up and pay for the single class since I'd already gotten motivated and dressed and hailed a cab up to the studio. Showing up is half the battle, after all. I chose the class. Thankfully. The beat starts, my mood instantly lifts. There are so many lessons in dance that can be applied to other aspects of life. I'm grateful this class always reminds me of that. "You're planners, aren't you?", Micaya said during our choreography. "With dance, you can't always plan ahead or think of your next move. You have to be *present*. You have to be present in *this* move." At one point I tried a move that made me look a little more hillbilly cheerleader than bad ass hip hop dancer. As I was giggling at myself Micaya walked over to give me a little one-on-one attention. "I know...", I sighed/laughed. We did the move again (nailed it!). "See girl, I knew you had it in ya!", she cheered. Then she turned to me and said "You've got flavor." and walked back to the center of instruction. ....................... :) ........................(that's my shit eating grin) Micaya--a veteran, amazing, confident, positive, encouraging, honest and ri-dic-u-lously talented dancer just told *me* that I have flavor?!? Le sigh. Blushing for days. Post class she handed me her instruction schedule and said "You should come to my intermediate class." "OK, yea, I'll try", I blushed. "Yea, why not? Por que no?", she smiled. Why not? Because I feel silly enough looking in your BEGINNERS class...I cannot imagine the levels of awkward I could reach in intermediate. Because I barely have enough self esteem to put myself out there surrounded by fellow "amateurs"...the idea of being the worst in a class may send me into humiliation shock. And because I'm so out of shape that I'm afraid a more advanced level my send my heart into *actual* shock. I didn't say any of that, though. I was flying high off her compliment. I'm stretching and growing and allowing myself to be vulnerable in life; I'm giving it all I've got with a smile and a joyous heart. I'm laughing off mistakes, moving forward from the past and working to be present, aware, mindful as much as possible. Why not have the same attitude in dance, too? So what do you think? Should I bring my flavorful self to an intermediate class? In Gratitude, Trish
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