My daughter, aged 17, is away at a ballet intensive for two weeks. I’m not hearing much from her except a few texts that says things like “I love it here!” and “I’m sore from all the dancing, but it’s really good!” and “The girls are nice and we are warming up to each other.” That’s all I need to hear.
Miss A has been a dancer all her life and she inspires me. And maybe because I am missing the sound of her dancing in her room (right above my little morning spot here in the living room), I decided to search “ballet” on my blog and turned up this nugget. It was just what I needed to read this morning as I jump (or perhaps dance) into a morning of writing.
Here it is… straight from the summer of 2015! Enjoy!
Right now my daughter, aged 10, is dancing around the living room to the rich music of Coppelia, a beautiful 19th century ballet. Using a dish towel as a prop, she’s flitting and twirling and swooping to the music in perfect motion. I would love to snap a photo, but she has asked me to remain in the kitchen (where I am cleaning up from supper) and I want to respect her privacy. But, oh my, each time I peek in I am amazed. She is 100% into the moment – listening to the mood of the music and improvising as she goes. And, wow, how her movements flow. The result is beautiful!
As a writer, I am taking note. This young budding artist is not letting the inner voices of self doubt and fear of criticism interfere one bit. Perhaps she hasn’t even recognized their pesky little voices yet.
I was never a dancer, but I have distant recollections of that beautiful innocent time when I just let my creativity flow both through writing and drawing without holding back. That phase ended for me in mid-elementary school when I suddenly became self conscious about my writing, especially at school. Thankfully, I continued to write stories and poems for my own pleasure. Still, it took years for me to return to that safe place where I felt secure enough to really open up and let that creativity flow again.
To reach our full creative potentials, we must follow my sweet daughter’s example and reconnect with that creative sweet spot from our childhood when we felt free to create without inhibition. Will you join me this week in finding the joyful spot? Happy dancing, er writing, all!
4 thoughts on “FINDING YOUR JOYFUL SPOT: Thoughts on Parlor Pliés and Writing”
Awesome and beautiful A great example of how the writer views and shares life with others.
Oh, thanks so much for stopping by, Mary!
It’s been noted that when you ask a class of six-year-olds if they can paint, most raise their hands. By the time they turn sixteen, few raise their hands in the affirmative, and by age twenty-six, you may get a single raised hand.
Miss A, keep dancing ❤
That sounds sad, but true. And yes, Miss A must keep dancing! And we must keep writing.