I am tickled this week to join a fearless bunch of women bloggers in five minutes of unedited writing. An online flash mob of writers who are intent on throwing their caution, and perfectionism to the wind. This week our prompt word is “Dare”.
I whispered to myself tersely that my anxiety was, in actuality, excitement. I tried to convince myself that my brow was furrowed, because I was happy for the opportunity. And I tried to believe that my inability to walk into the seemingly innocuous building, was simply because I was a little early to my appointment.
Yesterday, I interviewed for a job that has long been something I have dreamed of, and something I have feared of attaining.A serious, dangerous, and challenging task: to become a ballet teacher.
Even though I have longed to try my hand at teaching this skill, this art, this beautiful form that has built grace into the otherwise crooked lines of my body, and enmeshed joy into the movements that make up my day to day, I have avoided this dream more than I have sought it. I have chosen not try at all rather than fall short of perfection.
And yet the God who sees all, saw my heart wrapped in lacy hope, and trapped behind slimy fear, and He placed me in this gymnastics studio where the girls are in need of gracefilled bodies as I used to be.
This is a place where the girls need their own crooked lines smoothed out, and their own fearful hunched shoulders lifted and straightened.
And I think I know a teacher who can do that job, wonderfully, hesitantly, and beautifully imperfect.
Come on girls, let’s plié.