Starting Over

Starting over. The concept brings to mind regrets and beginning again. Rather than feeling blessed, one feels condemned to live in the past with the necessity of needing to move forward year by year. I would like to start over with my father. To have had more time with him. For him to know me as a mother, as happily married, living in the beautiful home which his passing helped me buy.

Regrets and reruns. I am in the dance studio. Rehearsing for a concert. I keep detailed notes  of the choreography and rent the small space on Hugo Street. I practice over and over. It takes time and many repetitions to solidify the choreography.  In classes and rehearsals I stand back until I feel confident. Following until I am sure.

So I practiced on my own, renting the immaculate studio which Flo owned. She was very particular. No eating on the pristine wood floors. Of course not. I could, however,  go into the small, green and manicured backyard. Back inside I always started with Cat Stevens.  It was an album so of course there was a record player. I warmed up and then started to repeat again and again whatever piece of choreography Lucas or Mary or Betsy had assigned. It was lonely at first. Until I found my body and stopped the tapes in my head. That I had started dancing too late, that I had not been training since I was very young, that I had not gone to some California version of the North Carolina School of the Arts or Juilliard.

 Many times in that studio, I started over. Repeating and repeating a series of movements and finding confidence in the repetition. Trying not to condemn myself for coming late. Always behind. Marrying too young. Dancing too late. Traveling the world at 40, rather than in my 20s as a recent college graduate. Giving up was not what almost happened. I was determined to find my place even when not called upon to be in the front row. My stage presence and energy healed the gaps in my training.

I started taking “Absolute Beginner Ballet” less than a year ago. Ballet had always been intimidating. My former teacher, Beth,  encouraged me to perform as a modern dancer, even though I could never remember each port de bras in my weekly ballet class.   I was sometimes late to class in Oakland, so many years ago. Wanting to be there but shy about what I didn’t know. I couldn’t start over as a ballet dancer.

In Chris’ class now, the absolute beginner one, it seems all about starting over. All of my dance training reassures me I deserve to be standing at the barre every Friday at 1:00. We are all beginners, as Chris says. It takes 700 tendus done one after the other to even begin to master the technique. I won’t go home and do even a few. Well, maybe some as I stand center floor waiting for my favorite modern classes to begin. We are all equal in this class.

Chris tells wonderful stories of his days in the Australian ballet. Over 40 himself, he demonstrates flawlessly with beauty and grace. He talks about the Russians who emote, the French precision and the Italian abandon. He encourages questions and for some reason, I feel comfortable to ask them: “Where does the movement come from? I get nervous when I have to balance;  what is in your head when you balance?” And on and on. He says he loves my questions because they help him become a better teacher. I am starting ballet again. After so many years. And for this hour I do not regret anything, neither my  late start or imperfect flexibility.

I am not looking back to wish my father had lived longer or that I had had more children. That I had not married so young only to generate all those years of uncertainty, longing, searching. I feel blessed to be in the moment. To look at my hand lovingly as Chris instructs us to do as a port de bras accompanies a plié, a bookend for the combination he meticulously explains will be danced  to the prelude of Romeo and Juliet. He talks more than we dance. Ballet history. He repeats himself and I find that I have memorized much of his litany. But I have absolutely no regrets about starting ballet over.

To be an absolute beginner is a blessing now. What almost happened was I couldn’t imagine taking ballet after so many years. My flexibility and stamina have changed. But in Chris’ class I feel absolutely present. I only want to start over so I can find my balance, shift my weight and feel completely anchored in now.