The Dance

When I was a dancer (ballet, by trade), many hours were spent in a stuffy studio, sweating, working endlessly under the direction of the choreographer to perfect my art. It was hard work, often times excruciating. Injuries or no injuries, I was expected to perform. To push. To work. And if I fell? I got up and tried again. Dancing was my passion. There was something exhilarating about working so hard for so long to produce a beautiful dance. So much was involved, and so much was required, but it was so worth it.

Those days, I learned a lot about life and purpose. I suppose you could say that my career as a student, apprentice, dancer, and teacher was a school of virtue for a bigger and better dance that at the time I had no idea I was already dancing.

In the great scheme of life, like dance, there are highs and lows, lifts and falls. There are moments of laughter and pure enjoyment, and moments when you have to look for the joy. There are times when we fall (and oh, does it hurt). And we find ourselves in that place, wondering where we can muster the strength to get back up again. Maybe we just want to lie there, and wallow in our self-pity. Perhaps we want to declare defeat and resolve to make no resolve at all except failure. And then, after a few moments (hopefully only a few), we realize that its pretty boring down there on the ground, and so we stir to stand, one limb at a time. Half way up, a Force grabs us and lifts us the rest of the way. And we dance again, knowing if we fall we can get back up again because we have a merciful and loving Father there to help us. All he asks, in the words of St. Paul, is that we love the fight, and not the fall.

And so we really can dance through life, finding the pleasure in each and every step, knowing with the Lord's guidance when to leap and know He'll catch, when to be still and know He's speaking, and when to find the rhythm again.

I think I'm at a point in my life when I'm realizing, more than ever, that I'll always be working on that fight. There is no "just get to graduation and then life will be easy" (as I foolishly thought about 11 years ago). Marriage takes work. Parenthood takes work. Apostolic endeavors require constant patience and virtue. Housekeeping takes...something (I can't even go there right now, although I'm sure virtue has something to do with it!). Every day presents new opportunities to learn a new step, to perfect my art in this perpetual and ever exciting dance that is my life. An artist is never finished learning. But I am not the main artist. There is a bigger and better Artist that sees the finished dance far clearer than I can. He sees it and He loves it, for He choreographed it! I pray that I will not disappoint my Choreographer, but that I will dance, and rise, and rise again, until graceful step by step the dance of my life is complete, and (I pray) just as beautiful as He intended. If I disappoint, or think my own ideas are better, He will make adjustments, but the final dance won’t (can't) be as beautiful as was originally envisioned. He is there to pick me back up, to encourage me on, to tell me when I need to rest, and to help me work when I am weak. He is patiently there...whenever I seek Him.

The best part? He loves my dance. He is not critical of me, nor does he desire to change me into someone else. He is forever intimately and deeply in love with me. How could I not seek to please this patient and loving Creator?

And so, now I dance not for an audience, nor for any human person, but for my amazing Creator. I dance with joy, with abandon, with power, and emotion. Every moment, of every day.

My oldest asked me the other day if I miss being a dancer. I told her that I never stopped. Inquisitively, she looked at me. I told her the best decision I ever made was quitting the dance career so I could start a family, and that my life now is the best dance of all, and I am loving every single moment.