The Dancer

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So, I am not too sure what’s happening but lately I have been bombarded with Dance. The small dance gigs that have popped up have been fun…and the board member gig for the dance company is cool… don’t know if this is too premature but I am starting to sense a revelation… now I am being asked to sub in the upcoming school year for the dance teacher for about two months.  I actually interviewed for this position last year but did not get it, yet somehow this year it fell onto my lap.  Okay, so then we move on to my present position….I am currently teaching “Creative Movement” at my childhood school for the summer.  I have no idea where the name came from because I thought they were leaning towards teaching theater but then I get the newsletter and it reads: “Creative Movement with Ms. Megan.”  I guess I should not be too shocked that this is all creeping up in my life again when I spent most of my life .. well, more like my childhood…dancing.  I would  wake up… no, the night before I would pack my dance clothes into my dance bag, go to sleep, wake up, school, do homework, then head to dance class.  It was like second nature.  It was huge part… no, it was my life.  In time, I got away from it, I would take a class here or there but I was not always consistent.  In college I was a theater major and we had to take a dance class… I didn’t take the dance class, (or any dance classes outside of school) until my last year of college… I took a tap class.  At the time, I was driven to create film.  I spent a lot of time in the editing room and when I did have the inkling to move my body, which was everyday, the gym was my consolation.  To continue my love for film, I majored in Media Studies in grad school and once again put dance on the shelf.   I remember taking an African dance class once or twice but was never consistent.  I spent a lot time at the gym to nurture that need to move.  Yet, dance was always in the back of my mind… conjuring choreography while I ran on the treadmill… and I did grab a chance to see some dance shows while in New York … I think maybe one or two, really… one was a free event in which a children’s dance company was performing at the South Street Seaport …. I remember while I was watching them tears fell from my eyes… And then the other show, I bought one ticket to the Joyce Theater… I don’t remember the name of the dance company but once again tears fell from my eyes.

Now, I have been moved to tears before because something was moving and beautiful but in these two occasions the tears stemmed from something deeper … I was missing something.  When I was younger I never saw myself as a dancer.  I would never wear the t-shirt/ shorts that had dancer written on them because I really didn’t see myself as a dancer.  I was a dancer but to call myself a dancer and to have people know… I just didn’t think I had the talent to secure that title.  Yet, somehow God has brought me back, as to say, “this is where you belong.”  It’s crazy but I feel so inadequate teaching the children…though somehow they look at me with such eagerness, smiling, wanting to be near me… as if I am some principal dancer for Alvin Ailey.  But I only ask, “Why have you brought me back here, God?”

The only answer that I have received: To share.  Share what you are passionate about.  Share what moves you to tears.  Share what gives you joy.  Share what gives you peace.

This is part of me has become my purpose.

I also think God wants me to reclaim my confidence.  The main reason I didn’t see myself as a dancer…even though I spent hours and hours during the week in the dance studio…because I did not have the confidence. When I first started I had so much…tenacity!  All my moves were sharp, executed the precise steps, I was on point and stood out… but then as I got older, more people joined the company, more talented people… my performance level did not change but somehow my need to be seen got dimmer and dimmer each year.  I don’t know what happened.. but I got intimated by the other dancers….I didn’t push hard to get to that next level… I didn’t practice much on my own to get stronger…. kick higher.. I had lost that drive to “dig deep.” (Shaun T)

This second time around may prove to be a test…Will I let myself be seen?

Time spent in the gym in doing drills, circuit training, endurance building have cultivated my mind and body to push harder… to not give up… to keep at it.  I honestly feel like I can handle any workout because my mind and body are a lot stronger than they were a long time ago.  Even when it burns I keep going… I look at the person next to me as my competitor… I can do it faster, better than he can… yep I said HE!

Timing.  If only I could have been like this when I was younger…. This whole process of moving into the new has brought on a healing to that little dancer within me.  The one that shied away from the spotlight… the one that only smiled… the one that did not have the courage to be seen.

I only thank God for giving me this time on my own to heal that wounded child.  To truly love every part of myself so I can encourage others to embrace their dancer from within.

 

You turned my wailing into DANCING;
    you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.
    Lord my God, I will praise you forever.

Psalm 30:11-12

 

 

 

 

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