Thursday, December 29, 2011

This Is Living the Dream

I woke up this morning like I always do.  I sat bolt upright when my alarm went off and mumbled what I assume were swear words at it.  I then face planted back onto my pillow, and took a deep breath.  Thus began what I like to call "The Snap/Crackle/Pop Morning Symphony."  I stretched my back, rolled my ankles (crrrraaaaacckk!  poppoppop), worked my legs under the covers (snap! snapsnap!  crrrrunch. thud) and flipped onto my back, stretching my arms over my head.  I dragged myself out from under the sheets, cracking my feet/toes/arches, snapping my shoulders, and otherwise releasing the various air bubbles and bundles of pressure that formed in my body as I slept.

I shivered and hurried to the kitchen to put the kettle on.  Said my prayers as I cooked breakfast, did my stretches, etc. etc. etc.  The same as any morning - but this morning was different.  This morning as I packed my oversized bag full of everything-I-could-possibly-need, I had a sudden realization.  In the quiet of the kitchen I finally understood - this is it.  This is living the dream.  On a smaller scale than I'd like to, of course - but even dreams come in babysteps.

I was about to head off to a day of Winter Camp with kids at the Learning Center where I teach.  We would play on the trampoline, run races, tumble, perfect handstands, do a mini-ballet class, listen to classical music, color, and dance all day.  Our only breaks were for snacks (banas, apple slices, cucumbers, and unsalted pretzels) and storys.  Then I would hop into the car, eat a quick flatbread from Subway and rush of to our final tech rehearsal. . .

For my first professional performance.

This morning I threw my sweater and notebook in my bag and relished that for a moment.  My first professional show.  I'd like to tell you it was for something big - a new work for a prominent company.  Or glamorous - world premier for a new ballet.  Or even that I had a big role.  The truth is, it was a very small part of a big show, and I am only on stage for a few, brief, glorious, seconds.  I don't even really dance: it's just being a comedic character, making the audience laugh.  But that audience?  It's a venue that holds 2,000 people.  And tonight, every seat was taken.  It's not high-paying - 50 dollars a show, and 10 comp tickets, plus meals provided.  But it is in fact paying which means I get to end 2011 not as the aspiring dancer I've been all my life, but as a professional dancer.

For a few, sweet days.

I can share the benefits of my "pointless," and "expensive," major and my "risky," and "impractical," career choice with friends and family in the form of free tickets to a sold-out show.

I get to live the dream: and what a dream it is.  The seconds I stepped onto the stage it was like lightening passed through my body.  I have never been more alive.  No moment has lasted longer than that split second, forever frozen in my mind, when pure adrenaline and love suspended time.  The only sound I can ever imagine comparing to the noise of 2,000 pairs of applauding hands is the first time I hear my future children's voices.

For the next two days I get to go from job one - playing with and helping shape children - to job two, helping make 2,000 people laugh.

How lucky am I?


2 comments:

  1. Nice articles. I'm just blogwalking and very happy to stop here. And also give you some comment here.

    Dont forget to give us some your comment into my blog too.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm currently putting your words "even dreams happen in babysteps" with my inspirational reminders.

    ReplyDelete