I love snow. I don’t mean that I casually enjoy the look of snow-covered trees with their heavy branches cascading over icy, winding streams which wriggle through a forest of quiet serenity. Nope. I mean I love blizzards, white-outs, twelve inches or more, shoveling the driveway (I don’t know why I like doing that; I’m not going anywhere), feeling my fingers and toes grow numb then warming up in front of a fire with my hands wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa. Then I love to stomp my way through a long walk of unplowed streets, shoveling the driveway again (in case of emergency, of course), having more hot cocoa, then doing it all over again!
So, imagine my excitement and anticipation when I found out that we might get one to three inches of snow by morning! Then, (oh happy day!) I saw an errant snow flake this morning (I am quite sure I really did) while I sat in my car at a stop light!
Ok, cut to the dance studio. I was watching my classes yesterday as they conscientiously worked their way through barre and center, and I felt so proud of how far they have come, even since September. I remember clearly when each one of them came to me for their very first ballet class; I had no idea where it would all lead.
In the midst of this reverie, I met a new student who came in to take her first class in Ballet 1. She was timid, shy, not sure where to go, her eyes flitting back and forth as she tried to listen to what I was saying and take in the new atmosphere.
Then it hit me. This little eight- year-old was like that first snow flurry of the season. Actually, that entire Ballet 1 class carries with them the excitement and anticipation of what could be. All of my advanced and professional dancers are the promised blizzard that I love to be immersed in. It’s true that often a sudden onslaught of new students can peter out like a brief snow shower that had looked promising at the start. Sometimes that snow ends as a dusting, and sometimes we get that longed for twelve inches or more. No matter the outcome, each snowflake and dancer is unique and beautiful by itself or in a group. I am always thrilled to see them come, wistful to see them go, then eagerly expectant for the next possibility!
Last year I had a new student who had recently moved up from the south. She had never seen snow, and she was thrilled at the sight of our first snowfall. Before that first flake hit the ground, this kid was squealing and bobbing up and down with excitement, her eyes focused on the sky with anticipation of what to expect.
That’s what it’s like, or should be, to see every new student who walks through the door. With each new dancer, we hope for a blizzard of more of them to accumulate, hopefully bringing the world to a standstill while everyone admires and appreciates the beauty, the uniqueness, and the stillness of watching the creation of something new.
Each new dancer may come and stay with the other dancers for a long time, and sometimes new dancers blow away with the wind. But witnessing the beauty and change in the world as a result of the creativity and potential that comes with every dancer is still worth the excited squeals of anticipation.
So, guess what…snow is in the forecast! Bring it on!
Dance on
Grace Notes 