Guess who was productive today?
You guessed it.
Cranberry was productive today. And I feel like announcing that to the world.
My ankle is improving and I thankfully have more time to let it rest, which can only help me. Things are going to be ok. I will not be debilitated for too much longer and I’m ready to strengthen and focus and work hard. Dance is going to be different this year. Different in a good way. I want a change and the change is happening. I’m not so worried about the technique. I can conquer that if I stay focused and work hard, which comes pretty naturally to me. I’m more worried about making new friends. I haven’t been forced to make new dance friends in a very long time. And when I did, I was older, I was more advanced than the new people. They looked up to me. Now I’m starting at the bottom. It’s hard leaving the dancers that I now so well. We are a tight group. And we’ve been through a lot together and we love our teacher, Bob. (Yes her nickname is Bob). Bob is like another mother to me. She watched over her brood of 8 girls fiercely. And now two of her brood graduated from high school and another two of her brood are leaving her for another dance program. Our group is breaking up. And it makes my eyes sting to think about it. We’ve sat through long, boring technique classes, suffered through blisters and warts, excruciatingly long rehearsal days, a decent amount of blood, tears, and injuries. We’ve been yelled at together, lectured, and have shared a fair amount of mishaps on stage. But dancing with the same girls for six years now. You can’t take that away. Dancing with them is natural. Our director tells us to “sense each other” and I know what it means to do that. When we perform on stage as an entire group, we feed off of each other. We are so in tune with our bodies that there is no need to use our peripheral vision. I can sense the space around me. I can feel other bodies. To sense each other means to be so aware of your surroundings that you do not have to look frantically around to find another body. It means to quiet your mind and find the energy that exists between all your fellow dancers. You don’t sense people so much as you sense their energy. You learn to feel how the dynamic is molded and constantly changing. Eventually you become comfortable enough with your dancers to look them straight in the eye calmly, without breaking face. You learn to be mutual in your intent and energy; you can look past their eyes and through the wall, through the curtain. It’s very humbling. I can identify my fellow dancers, the 8 of us, by the way each individual walks. The way they place their feet. Each dancer moves uniquely. It’s incredible. It really is incredible.
And the 8 of us know each other like that. It’s hard to just let that go.
We’ve had many, many, (too many to count) wonderful experiences. Quick changes, countless performances, birthdays, inside jokes, ballet sleepovers, surprise parties for Bob, pointe shoe jokes, rambling off on tangents to waste class time, theme day Saturday rehearsals, leaving cheesy pickup lines on random people’s cell phones. Hugs. So many hugs. Random improvisation sessions. The list goes on and on. We truly have what I would consider a sisterly bond. Almost a little too sisterly.
And I won’t forget them. No way. I will keep in contact. But it will be hard. It won’t be the same. They all have a special place in my heart. Many of my happiest memories include them. And now I have to tell them all goodbye, which sounds so final. So stern. But I must because that’s the way it is.