My heart belongs in flight.

I got to stay for the advanced class yesterday.
It was the perk of being the only dancer to show up that wasn’t advanced.
Only 4 people were in the class.
This never happens.
I think it helped. We were able to focus and really hone in.
I’m clearly not an advanced dancer, but I definitely loved getting to experience it.
To know where my path will hopefully one day go.
To know what I’m working towards.
We got to do partnering, too.
My first time ever.
I can’t remember the last time I felt so alive
So free.
I felt like a professional, even though I know well that I am not.
In my mind, I was flawless.
It felt like flying.
It felt like grace.
There, in that moment, nothing else mattered.
Not a thing in the world.
Nothing before, nothing after
Just that moment of weightless grace.

That is where my heart belongs.

I’m so grateful to have had that taste.



I think nowadays, people don’t learn what discipline really is.
Most people, that is. Some do.

In class, I find myself challenged a lot. And there’s plenty of times I can make excuses.
“I can’t do this on the right side because of my knee”
“I feel nauseous, maybe I shouldn’t go to class”
“I’m not as good as them, so I’m just gonna keep it low key so they don’t see me struggle as I try.”
“Um. I can’t even say that. It looks like a complicated prance. Maybe I shouldn’t try it today.”

And I tell myself.

If all I do is make excuses, then I’m never going to get anywhere. I’m never going to reach my goal.
The least I can do is try.
If it hurts, then I know.
If I can’t do it now, I can’t do it.
If I’m not as good as them, at least I’m on my way.
If I don’t feel good, I can always leave when I’ve had enough.

I’m never going to get anywhere with excuses.

Same with life.
Mine has been all over the place and really inconsistent.

I can make all the excuses in the world.
“I can’t eat better until I have my own place.”
“I’m not gonna cook, I don’t like feeling watched.”
“I don’t have time”
“I have too much to do.”
“I can’t do this until *insert excuse here* happens.”
And then whine about all the weight I’ve gained and how nothing has changed.

If I want there to be progress in my life, I have to first start.
I have to do what I can. I have to meet fate halfway.
At least.
I have to do something.
Something is better than nothing.

So I’m stuck in a building I can’t leave for 12 straight hours.
I can’t go to the gym, I can’t go walking, but there are activities I can┬ádo here.
I don’t have to get fast food because it’s easy. I can get premade sandwiches and salads and stuff that’s fresh and fairly healthy. Better than grease.

Pointe is, I can stop making excuses and start making progress.

(see what I did there?)