Thank you Eleanor!
Recently, I read a book about Eleanor Roosevelt. It was one of the standard books you might see today. A semi-decent writer spent a year exploring the life of Eleanor Roosevelt. We have seen this theme before. I loved learning about her (Eleanor). She was constantly learning, evolving and challenging herself. Within the book, the author decides to do something which makes her scared/afraid each day. I didn't want to cheapen the experience, so I decided to take on one big challenge.
When I was younger, I was not coordinated. I still am not. I could not master a jumping jack until I was a teen. Neen, my older sister, would say I never did. When gym class did jump rope relays I was picked last. In my mind, I wanted to be a beautiful ballerina. I did not have the opportunity when I was younger. Now, I am aware of how much a lack. I decided to embrace Eleanor's challenge and take an adult ballet class. What a learning opportunity. Hands, feet, arms, thighs and head must all be symmetrical. They must move through careful attention to detail. In a strange way, it seems mathematical to me.
As I work at the bar, I feel like a bird or a dancer in an intense ballet movie. When I look in the mirror, I look more like sharp angles struggling to make shapes. It conjures every thought you would have of awkwardness. I cannot even move half as much as my talented teacher. She is beautiful to watch. Every finger and toe is graceful. Her turnout is so wonderful, I sometimes get her left and right foot mixed-up. Because everyone is an adult, I don't feel shame. I don't wait to be picked last. Instead, I am pretending and having a great time.
Today is my birthday and I am requiring change of myself. So, I am stepping out of my comfort zone. I am trying to mildly attempt the introduction of fear in my life. Perhaps I will do it more on a yearly basis. There may not be a recital, but I will try to show you my awesome barre work.
When I was younger, I was not coordinated. I still am not. I could not master a jumping jack until I was a teen. Neen, my older sister, would say I never did. When gym class did jump rope relays I was picked last. In my mind, I wanted to be a beautiful ballerina. I did not have the opportunity when I was younger. Now, I am aware of how much a lack. I decided to embrace Eleanor's challenge and take an adult ballet class. What a learning opportunity. Hands, feet, arms, thighs and head must all be symmetrical. They must move through careful attention to detail. In a strange way, it seems mathematical to me.
As I work at the bar, I feel like a bird or a dancer in an intense ballet movie. When I look in the mirror, I look more like sharp angles struggling to make shapes. It conjures every thought you would have of awkwardness. I cannot even move half as much as my talented teacher. She is beautiful to watch. Every finger and toe is graceful. Her turnout is so wonderful, I sometimes get her left and right foot mixed-up. Because everyone is an adult, I don't feel shame. I don't wait to be picked last. Instead, I am pretending and having a great time.
Today is my birthday and I am requiring change of myself. So, I am stepping out of my comfort zone. I am trying to mildly attempt the introduction of fear in my life. Perhaps I will do it more on a yearly basis. There may not be a recital, but I will try to show you my awesome barre work.
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