Never on the Sidelines

     In my last entry, I talked about how important it is to not let any challenges get in the way of living life to the fullest. And I believe that very fully.

     At this point in my life, I am unable to dance. I still have my technique, but I have lost a large amount of my flexibility, as well as my strength. I can't even do the splits anymore - something that was easy and painless only a few month ago.

      While I danced before training at Mann Dance Academy, I consider it "my studio" - not in the sense that I own it, but in the sense that it's like home to me. I trained there for ten years, and for much of that, spent between twenty and forty hours a week there. Last night, at the college, Mann Dance Academy had their Solos and Ensambles Show. This performance serves as a preparation for those competing at Cathy Roe's Ultimate Dance Competition. It's really beneficial to have a performance under your belt before you compete, and naturally, the more performances the better. (I love performing. Being on stage and giving everything I've got to an audience is one of the best feelings in the world.)

       Obviously, I was unable to perform in this show - not as a dancer, anyway. But I did help out in other ways. I ran the light and sound boards in the booth, which is also something I enjoy doing. The experience was bittersweet. I miss dancing, and I wanted to be on stage dancing, the way I've been doing for so many years in the past. But it was nice to still be involved in the show.

       Even though I wasn't able to do something that fills me with so much life and joy, I was still able to be a part of it in another way, and that was really nice. Sometimes that's how life works - we aren't able to do exactly what we want, the way that we want to do it, but we are still able to involve ourselves in some way, and that also brings us joy and fulfillment and satisfaction.

     And now I have to give a shout out to a couple of my girls.
   
    One of my students I will simply call H. She is a young teenager, and is a talented dancer. This year, she asked me to choreograph her solo, which I was more than happy to do. She selected the song Breath of Life to be her piece (taken from the soundtrack of Snow White and the Huntsman). The genre she wanted was contemporary. As soon as I heard the piece, choreographic possibilities exploded inside of my brain. Concepts and ideas flooded me, and I was so excited to be able to work with H. She is extremely talented, and works hard (hence the talent). She is also a lovable, fun, bright individual, and was a pleasure to work with.

    I decided to push her limits. When I was choreographing I told her I was going to make the dance challenging (what's the point if it's easy?), but that if by competition time there were some things she hadn't quite gotten the hang of, that I would adjust and simplify them.

    The dance is incredibly athletic. It requires a lot of strength and endurance, and I was hard on her. I wasn't sure if H. would be able to execute the dance for competition, since by the end of a run she was tired and lacked energy. But she did it.

     I watched the dance carefully to see what she had done with it - if she had simplified it on her own, if she would execute it with the energy it needed, if she would tell the story - if she would satisfy the vision in my head.

    That's what happens to artists. They have a vision in their heads, and they want very much for it to be met. With visual artists, they solely control whether or not their vision is completed and materialized. But with performing arts a director/choreographer, is taking her vision and giving it to someone else, and while she can work incredibly hard to help the performer achieve the vision, ultimately, that choreographer has to let go and leave her work in the hands of the performer. This is actually hard to do. Because you want your vision to be materialized in it's fullest, not just partially, or even mostly.

     Last night, H. materialized my vision. She gave me the power I wanted. She exceeded my expectations. He entire body was filled with energy, so much so that there was even tangible energy coming out of her fingertips.

    Before the show, she and I had been talking about some things. I told H. that when she performed she had to take every emotion in her body and let it fill the dance. I told her to take all of the passion, every frustration, every hope, everything inside of her and let it be the driving force. She did it.

    I love it when a performer can produce the magical creation inside of my head. I was so incredibly proud of her, and wish her the best of luck at competition.


     My other dancer is J. J. chose "You Take Me the Way I Am" by Ingrid Michaelson. This dance is a direct contrast from H.'s piece. It is in no way intense, and isn't all that athletic. It's a sweet, somewhat playful piece, and the movement is meant to be much more casual and happy-go-lucky. I found it more challenging to choreograph this piece,  because I am a more intense dancer. I like dancing with strong, powerful emotions driving me.

    Still, I enjoyed this piece. J. is so much fun to work with. She is delightful and funny. She is intelligent and she also works hard, and I was very pleased with her work as well.

    Again, I wondered what J. would do with the piece I gave her. Would she give me my vision?

    Here's where things differed a little, and I was pleasantly surprised. J. did not meet my vision. But she gave me something else. Something extremely interesting, that I thoroughly enjoyed - something that a choreographer cannot give a performer. When J. performed the dance, I saw her personality. She wasn't some dancer, performing some random dance that some random choreographer had given her. She was just J. And that was beautiful. J.'s personality exploded out of her in the dance, and it was delightful to watch. She didn't give me my vision - but I think she gave me something just as valuable, if not more so. I loved that who J. is was so excellently projected.

     I am very proud of my two dancers and wish them the best of luck at regionals this weekend. I miss not being able to dance. I wanted so badly to be on stage with them, but I am so grateful that I am able to participate in dance in other ways - that I can extend my passion for dance to others, and still create. I am thankful that I was able to operate the light and sound boards yesterday so that I could still be an active participant in the show.

     Sometimes life throws things at us that we would rather not have. But with it come other opportunities for growth and fulfillment and joy. Just because we can't do the things we want to doesn't mean that we have to sit on the sidelines and let other people live our dreams for us. We can always still contribute. No joy. No fulfillment. No light comes from sitting on the sidelines. The sidelines are a gloomy place.

      So why sit there? Get up and do something with your life. Make something happen. Find something that fills you with joy and light - something that makes you fill fulfilled and alive - something that not only fills your entire soul, but cannot be contained by it, and explodes out of you in every direction.