I decided that I am going back on the dance floor, not as an"injured" dancer, but as a dancer, period.
It takes a lot of courage to even think this way, because my feet are still numb with dead nerve endings, I have trouble keeping my balance , even walking, never mind trying to spin on the ball of my foot.
But, I decided, it was time. No more cutting corners, no more avoiding taking classes from tough coaches, no more procrastination. This is something that gives me immeasurable pleasure and I am going back to it.
So, I invested in some social dancing shoes, practice ones and one pair for each division. The smooth division uses a different type of shoe, as opposed to the Latin division.
It was an investment on my psychological state of mind, that I will live long enough to wear them out, by dancing.
I still did not have the confidence to go to one of those studios yet. So, I went to a smaller, less professional establishment with my new shoes , my new music and simple routines, uploaded in a small computer that I take with me everywhere. It would help me remember "school figures," the grammar of dancing, and technique.
I started working with a great deal of enthusiasm and anticipation, because, dancing is my passion.
Within 5 minutes, I was getting so frustrated, because I had no partner to help stabilize my balance and my turns were beyond pathetic.
When I fell more than once, practicing moving turns (because they can be stationary,) I sat in the corner of the ballroom floor and I started crying.
I am willing to give up a lot, but not dancing. If it kills my body by practicing, I will have to do it.
While, all these thoughts crossed my mind and how I was going to attack my problem, my head was hanging between my legs, sitting on the floor, feeling defeated, rubbing my slightly injured ankle. A little hand showed up and rested on my thigh. I looked up and the prettiest face of a little girl with a typical pink tutu, was looking deep into my face.
"Did you hurt your self?" I heard her sweet, concerned voice.
"No, not really. It is my pride that is wounded, because I can not perform, what used to be second nature to me."
"So what, with practice, it comes back, right?"
I could not explain to her that I had my numb feet in the way, the lack of a regular dancing partner and all these details made a big difference.
"Come on, get up, try it one more time and then leave it alone. The next time you will find progress in your routine."
She extended her perfect little hand to help me up and smiled a smile of an angel.
"The next time I see you, you may fall again, but I shall be here to help you up as many times as it takes. That is what my instructor does and it works. I am progressing every time, as long I overcome the fear of what might happen. So remember, no fear."
I got a wonderful life lesson today from a young "angel" in a strange studio, with a special message, "first conquer your fear."
And that is exactly what I shall do. No thinking about "terminal illness," no embarrassment from constant falling, while spinning due to the lack of balance. Just practice, lose myself self in the music and concentrate on what I can do, not what I can not do.
And I needed to be told that by an 8 year old?