I’m finding myself having a hard time dealing with the fact that Oz is over.
Maybe it’s a bit more extreme since the studio is also finished with classes until the summer session begins (which isn’t until June.) and I don’t yet have the means to really practice at home.
I knew I’d miss the show, but I didn’t really expect to miss dancing this much.
Usually when I have some sort of a break between classes, I’m sad, but I take it. Usually I’ll come back and be better; like my body needed the time off to come back stronger.
But this one seems to be a bit more grueling than is typical.
Maybe the fact that Oz was so wonderful makes it more difficult as well.
I know this wasn’t the case for everyone, but for me the entire experience was wonderful. I finally found myself in a place where I felt like I mattered and wasn’t wasting my time. Where I was doing something I actually enjoy for myself and not because everyone tells me it’s something I have to do.
I was committing myself to be part of something bigger than me, and given the liberty to do so.
Now I’m facing change and new.
Summer classes will be different than anything I’m used to. Classes I can take will only be twice a week. It will be a mixed group of people and whether I will be on the advanced or beginning part of that spectrum is up in the air. It will only be for a month, when I will be gone for two weeks, and not sure what classes (if any) happen after that. Next year I will go into a different level with different teachers and different people bringing different experiences. Whether I still take the 4’s class is also up in the air and will probably depend on a few different factors.
I know all these things will work themselves out and I will be fine, but the before always makes me nervous when new things are ahead. I’m not freaking out, though, so please save your opinions for yourself.
I do realize this could be a year of wonderful up ahead. I realize it could be painful. I realize it could be fulfilling or disappointing or both. There are so many factors and we will take them as they come.
One thing I have learned having to go to the chiropractor is what trust truly means.
When your back is jacked up and you have to rely on these people you don’t know to take care of you, letting yourself not freak out at the fact you’re half naked on the masseuses table with someone whose real name you don’t know is touching your bare back, or someone else is asking you to lift your shirt so they can place the treatment spots on your lower back, or you’re lying flat on your back and you absolutely cannot let yourself tense up as the chiropractor pops your neck in ways that resemble murders you’ve seen in movies–you have to trust.
And when you trust, it isn’t always broken.
Sometimes it’s wonderful, and you have better range of motion, and your neck feels like a weight has been lifted, and your back begins to improve.
Sometimes good things actually happen to you and you have someone believe you when you tell them that something feels like it’s off and it turns out it was neurological and this could lead to answers for other things you’ve been searching for for years.
But you know that since these people haven’t abused your trust thus far that they can be trusted in the future.
So it goes with ballet.
Trust that you’ll be exactly where you need to be, just like you have been all alone.
Leave yourself open to meet more wonderful people like you have in the last year.
Keep your mind open to new opportunities that could arise.
Choose to see the best even if disappointment lies ahead because–honestly–how can you top an experience like the one you’re leaving?
Life will work out exactly as it’s supposed to.