Taking back my Saturday

Saturday morning ballet classes were always one of my favorite things all through childhood. There was something different about them from the classes I went to after school during the week. Same room, same teachers, many of the same students, but the feeling in the air was different. The electricity and energy were different. The effort and sweat were different. No one had to be there Saturday morning. It wasn't required. It wasn't a form of babysitting or an afterschool activity parents signed their kids up for. It was a choice by everyone in the room to get up early on a day their friends slept in or watched TV in their pajamas and go work hard instead. Everyone there wanted to be their best and gave up one of only two (if any) possible days to sleep in to achieve that. We all started class sleepy and quiet, but there was an intensity in our quiet. The dreams in the dance studio Saturday morning were bigger than during the week. The pirouettes had more risks, more rotations, and more falls. The extensions were held ever so slightly longer, despite trembling muscles. The jumps were ever so slightly higher, breath was shorter, and at the end of the class, the feeling of being wiped out and having given my all was sweeter and so much more delicious.

Those Saturday morning ballet classes are something I miss the most about my childhood ballet training. Now, I teach three back-to-back kids' ballet classes Saturday morning into afternoon without so much as a 30-second break to slip my mask off and take a sip of water in between. Saturdays are no longer something I feel I "own." They're not mine. They belong to the kids I teach.

So I decided to take back my Saturday morning by getting up even earlier than normal and going to my boxing gym. But I would be lying if I said that what I really wanted to do before those three classes is get up early and go work out. When my alarm went off this morning, I just wanted to go back to sleep for an extra hour and then watch Scooby Doo in my PJs while leisurely eating my cereal.

But I did work out. Because it's something I can do for myself. I love teaching my students, but I also need to get back the feeling of Saturday mornings when I was kid—when those mornings belonged to me. I miss getting up early to go to class and sweat and work hard surrounded by others who wanted—needed—to be there just as much as I. I never felt more satisfied than after Saturday morning class, no matter how hard it was to get myself there in the first place.

Today I took ownership of my Saturday by boxing before teaching my three classes. Did I want to to do it when I woke up? Nope. Was it incredibly hard to get through the class? Yep. Was it the most rewarding feeling all week that I did it anyway? Absolutely.

Do something for yourself today. Whatever that is. Something that gives you ownership of your day, takes something back for yourself, and conquers something, however small it is.

Happy New Year

As 2020 comes to an end, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratefulness.  Though I know so many have experienced so much worse than I can ever completely grasp, I've been fortunate this year.  My family and I have stayed healthy; I've had a roof over my head; I've never had to wonder where my next meal was coming from.  The fall of 2019, after leaving NYC, I was at one of my lowest points ever, and then I started 2020 with a broken foot that the urgent care doctor said might keep me from ever dancing the same again.

But it did heal. I healed. I was able to stay active, first by taking boxing classes on my iWalk knee crutch, then by taking virtual dance and boxing classes on two feet from NYC, London, and Chicago and renting studio space to dance and choreograph, then by getting my teaching certification in the next two levels of American Ballet Theatre's National Training Curriculum through Zoom classes, and finally by punching a bag in person again and getting back to teaching ballet.

Staying active and strong, pushing myself, and being surrounded by people who push themselves and me is what keeps me sane, and I am so incredibly grateful to have had that this year. Here's to hoping everyone's 2021 is full of as many reasons to be grateful as my 2020 was.

Happy New Year

January 2020:

Summer

Fall

December

January 2021: