The lights dimmed.
The audience grew hushed.
Groups of elegantly costumed dancers of various ages and
proficiencies took turns emerging from the curtains to perform their practiced
recital choreographies. When the more advanced ballerinas appeared on stage to spin and glide with grace, excellence, and poise, they called out my latent desire to dance. A discarded passion leapt within me.
As they floated back and forth across the stage and tip-toed
on pointe, my heart pounded and my mouth hung open. What WAS that feeling?
Where did it come from? Embarrassed, I looked to either side to see if
anyone noticed my overreaction. Of
course they didn’t.
I’ve felt these kinds of stirrings for as long as I can
remember – the desire to creatively express myself to music through movement –
although I never had the first ballet class. However, whenever I’ve watched others dance and let myself
vicariously immerse myself in their performance, some lost part of me has seemed
to come home.
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