We are supposed to bring in something that represents our roots for the altar. I dug out my old pointe shoes. By old, I mean age, not wear and tear. I think I got them when I was like 12 or something. My last year of ballet. They are in amazingly good shape - hardly ever used and not even broken in. Our teacher had just started us on pointe shoes when after that school year I decided not to pursue ballet anymore.
When I found them (way at the bottom of an old trunk) I was shocked by how pristine they looked. It got me thinking back to why I quit. I mean, I loved to dance. Obviously I still do. So what stopped me? What was it about that transition into junior high that made me say enough?
I'm not really sure anymore. I think part of it was I finally got sick of my ballet teacher. I was most definitely not her favorite in class and I'm not entirely convinced she thought I had much talent. I was just another paying customer. I think after all those years of taking classes from her, I finally realized that I didn't have to take her attitude anymore. I could find other ways to dance.
Dancing has come and gone in my life, but it's always been a constant. Even when I wasn't taking classes or performing, I was always doing it. Even if it was just to the music in my own head.
So these little pink pointy shoes represent what is at my root: my desire and love for dance.