Last night I was so frustrated. My ballet class just wasn’t gelling with me and my teacher was a bit on edge. Ok, a whole lotta on edge. Going into the second class last night, it really intensified. We were running our program just with the ladies. It’s a beautiful waltz sequence that yours truly is still scrambling to learn. I was tired (as we always are when it starts so late) and still trying to get the steps down when she began to call out for us to stick to our formation, the composition which we were just learning.
When I couldn’t get it and wasn’t quite in line with my counterpart, she ran over to my side and was yelling directly at me. She put her hand around my wrists, dragging me through the multiple points. My lips were shaking as me, the weakest in the class, didn’t want to break and dare to let a tear fall. I almost turned and left out, as I know this second class on Mondays I’ve been taking is beyond my level — but I guess it was my stubbornness and my pride that kept my two slippers firmly planted somehow.
After that piece wrapped, we learned another, choreographed by a pair of amusing gentlemen. They were much welcomed comic relief as far as I was concerned. They showed us the introductory moves, which couldn’t be any more opposite from ballet in my mind. One of my classmates asked, “I can’t tell if we’re gay men or prostitutes.” My response was, “neither – I think we’re transvestites!”. You probably need the visual, but yeah, at 10:30pm as I was fighting off a threatening migraine, I had one big fat smile.
So today it was with a tad bit of reluctance that I went over to class at the other school I usually take classes. I haven’t been in gosh almost a month. After feeling a bit deflated from last night, I didn’t know if I was up for round deux of the whip lashings.
But I’m so glad I went.
The kind-hearted gentleman who typically accompanies our class also teaches the other alternating days throughout the week. When my teacher called in ill today, it was him who filled her shoes for the evening. I saw his warm smile as I walked in the room, and I knew it was going to be good.
And good it was. Nothing but positive, positive, positive. And the thing is I could tell I had improved. Perhaps not as noticeable in my Monday class, where I am surrounded by those who have danced double-digits worth of years, but today I could tell. It was good. Good for me to not lose the drive and determination to keep learning. The music today was soothing. The exercises challenging as always, but yet reassuring.
So unlike last night where I tossed and tossed rethinking all those mistaken steps of the evening, I think tonight I’ll be one heavy head as I meet those two much loved pillows. Sweet dreams… zzzzzzz.