A few days ago, I wrote a brief reflection “My Year in Dancing.”
Today, one of the dance blogs I read (and which I have linked on my front page) posted an article “Dear 1-Year Dancer.” And I thought, “Well, that’s a freakish coincidence. She couldn’t possibly read my blog, could she? This couldn’t be about me…right?”
And so I read it cautiously, and came to a conclusion: this was most certainly not about me. Or if it was, then I’m afraid she’s drawn some misunderstandings about me. And while this isn’t a reply to that, because honestly I do think her article has nothing to do with me personally (but perhaps, should she be reading, an inspiration for a more general concept?), it did make me want to reflect further on my journey thus far. I do however, recommend you read it for context (and because her articles on dance are always well written and thought provoking).
I have no idea what I’m doing.
Even in keeping this blog, I feel that I come across as presumptuously precocious, writing about things I’ve barely dipped my toes into. In truth, things simply make more sense to me on paper, so I use writing as my medium to work out all these ideas in my head. That I thought the world just might be interested in such workings of a beginner’s mind was ego peeking through. Some years down the road, I’ll likely look back at some of these opinions and realize how naïve and wrong they were. For you see, even though I began dancing twelve months months ago, I feel it’s only been two. Sure, partly in that “time flies when you’re having fun” way, but mostly in this overwhelming sensation that there this is still so much to do and so far to go. To think of how much I have to learn, and how much I’ve just learned in an entire year, how can I possibly learn it all? There’s not enough of me. Just not enough.
I see my teachers and other professionals dance and I feel the difference deep down in my bones. I can see the difference between dancing with your whole body, and just putting your body in the proper dance position. Yet not knowing how to get myself there. There are so many days I know I’ve come so far, yet I’ve only come this far.
Of course, it’s not all frustration and melodrama. In fact, I would say it’s not even mostly. Just as my last post was full of hope and optimism, so am I. The idea that I’ll never run out of anything to learn is both wonderful and terrifying. The knowledge that these amazing and beautiful people have been in my life for a year, with more years to come, is a great source of joy. It’s something I want to grasp with both hands, my whole body and soul, and never let go.
So I say it again, here’s to another year.