Have you ever been late for an appointment, and on the way there, you missed every single traffic light, and then got stuck behind a car driving ten miles an hour under the speed limit, because…well, I don’t know why. All this happened to me this morning. I actually would have made it to my appointment just in time, but as I was finally getting to go through a green light, a police car stopped in the intersection and halted all the traffic. Then another police car drove up as the first one drove away; as this happened about five or six times, it was apparent that a very large funeral procession was in progress. How tragic that it was just a few days before Christmas.

I felt so sad for the family and friends who were going through this; partly because I’m grieving the loss of my husband a bit more heavily this year, and partly because Christmas is so close. As I was waiting for the procession to pass, the song “The First Noel” was playing on the radio. The words “and so it continued both day and night” caught my ear. The song was referring to the light from the star of Bethlehem, but in my mood, my thoughts went immediately to how the sadness from grief seems to continue both day and night.

This is the first writing I have done in many weeks. No, I haven’t been too busy. No, I haven’t been focusing on more pressing matters. The fact is, I, like everyone else, have become discouraged. My confidence in writing certainly has not continued both day and night. Confidence is one of those things that needs a little affirmation and acknowledgement now and then, but right now, it seems it’s every man for himself. I refuse to vent by endlessly berating, moaning, and groaning about the state of humanity; that’s a party that I don’t want to attend. But I also can’t pretend that everything is great, happy, and problem-free, so it’s easier to stay silent. Maybe not the best response, but definitely the easiest – and the funeral procession was an appropriate punctuation to what seemed like an inevitable silence.  

What to do, what to do? Staying silent and doing nothing may not be the best way to go, and it’s not the same thing as being still. So, here’s what we, or what I, can do: Listen…but not to myself. Listen to what is in the background. It’s usually the important stuff. I always focus on what I see on the outside, but I have to be aware of what I hear on the inside. Hope is silent, but pervasive; it doesn’t scream to be heard, but I dohave to listen for it. Then I have to be still and listen for peace. Peace is not winning the argument or getting my own way; it’s settling in my heart what I know to be true. 

So, what about the confidence? What about the discouragement? The confidence will re-emerge when the peace soaks in. However, the discouragement is a tough one, especially when we base our ability and progress on the affirmation of others. I guess I need to re-examine what I base my inspiration on. My husband was a major source of affirmation and encouragement for me. But now that he’s not here, being alone should not change who I am. Shouldn’t it reveal who I am? I got married at twenty-one years old, and my husband didn’t change me; we grew together for over forty-two years. I am still growing and changing, and just because I don’t get affirmation from him anymore doesn’t mean I stop. When a tree loses a branch, it still grows and produces fruit.

So, what does continue both day and night? Hope continues both day and night. God’s peace continues both day and night. Most of all, despite my mistakes, my flaws, my shortcomings, even my best efforts that are never quite good enough, God’s love continues both day and night. In our affirming times, in our periods of discouragement, to the people experiencing the funeral close to Christmas, God’s love continues. 

Dance on (both day and night)

            “We are between a rock and a hard place.” This expression has always intrigued me. It’s all about perspective. As I listen to all of our loud political opinions tap dancing around each other, arguments about wearing or not wearing masks, or screams about opening businesses, and all the verbal pollution and smog filling the air claiming to know the “real” truth, it all leaves me wanting to retreat into a bomb shelter and wait for the shelling to pass. I feel that humanity has become one monster with two heads. Each head is trying to bite and destroy the other without realizing that the whole thing goes down if either head is destroyed. Do we have even an inkling that we are all trying to make life better while killing each other in the process?

I performed once on a stage that was a theater in the round; actually, in was a square. Each side was identical. Throughout the choreography, every dancer had to re-orient themselves to a different “front” and focal point. It got very tricky when I had to do a series of turns changing direction after every fourth turn. I was doing this with three other people, so I had to not only find the new direction with three other people, but we had to do it with the same timing and speed while getting dizzy. Rehearsals were…interesting. We ultimately got together and decided exactly when to come down from each turn and when to go back up on our toes. If one of us got mad and tried to insist that our own way was the best and only right answer, we would never have gotten that turn section to work. It all depended on our perspective, our angle to the stage, and each other. With every measure of music, one of us would be facing a side where we couldn’t see the others, so we had to trust that everyone else was upholding their strength and clear thinking and our common desire to make it work.

I was talking with a friend about the multitude of vehement opinions regarding the Covid-19 pandemic…and the politics…and economy…and education…and how incredibly abusive people have become towards each other. She shared a profound concept. She held up a pencil and said, “If you see it from the side, it’s a horizontal stick. But if you see it with the eraser end coming at you, it looks like a circle. Both perspectives are correct, but both sides will say the other is wrong.”

Yes, there are serious issues that are confronting all of us. We are not a bunch of dancers trying to do fouettés together in changing directions. However, I fear we have become that two-headed monster trying to devour one of our heads. It doesn’t matter which head you are; we are sharing the same heart. 

Please – stop biting, chomping, chewing, eating. Look together from our different perspectives. We can only travel in the same direction anyway.Dance on

            I may ruffle a few feathers. Keep in mind, this commentary has nothing to do with the current pandemic and struggles the world is experiencing right now. This is based on decades of teaching students of every age, from small children to senior citizens.

As a teacher, one of the biggest complaints I hear from my colleagues is about the sense of entitlement that is rampantly sweeping through our culture. Not only is it seen among the students and young adults, but the parents of the young children are passing it down to the next generation. It’s not necessarily universal, but there is an obvious trend. “That’s not fair! I don’t deserve this! I DO deserve that! I have worked too hard to not be given (Fill in the blank) are just a few of the battle cries permeating the atmosphere. I hear adults vehemently yelling and shaking their fists over a change of plans in their lives, and how they don’t deserve to be treated so unfairly. I understand shock and disappointment. I understand great loss and grief. I understand life not being fair. However, we seem to be teaching our children that they deserve to get the most return for mediocre work. Show up, check off the box, and you’re done. During my teaching career, I’ve been dumbfounded by how many people ask for special dispensation to get out of a chore or school policy when inconvenience is the real issue. It seems to be presumed that “Jane’s” previous commitment and being reminded of her sweet personality and usual desire to be conscientious means that special privileges are in order. However, everyone knows what’s involved in the job going in, so doing the job is not exactly a favor to the teacher or the boss. Being conscientious to do the job consistently is why “Jane” was good enough to even get the job. Of course, emergencies happen, major surprises and storms arise, but in general, maintaining the course and pursuing a job well done doesn’t deserve an award any more brushing your teeth “most” days deserves an award.

Do you ever focus on what you deserve rather than what you have? It seems that the more we have, the more we think we deserve. I know the devastation of working hard your whole life, just to lose “everything.” I put “everything” in quotation marks, because if you are even able to read this, you haven’t lost everything. Someone worked very hard for years to teach you to do that. If you have a friend or family member who is listening to your woes, you have not lost everything. Someone loves you enough to let you rant and to encourage you. The truth is, nothing in life is a given. Yes, the logical result of hard work and good work ethic is to get a good return for your labor. But we are NOT promised that, at least not what we think is a good return. What we want and expect is not always what we get. Our work ethic not only improves our character, but it reveals it. The level of integrity that we are hopefully being taught and developing since childhood is what results in diligence, and something good will always come from that, even if it’s not what we imagined. If nothing else, we are leaving a legacy of trust, dependability, responsibility, and integrity. Others will reap the benefits of the work you did years before, and they’ll be motivated to learn to carry on in the same manner.

God says in 1Corinthians 15:58 for us to be steadfast and immoveable, for our work is never in vain. That doesn’t mean we will always achieve our own expectations, but it means good will come from our work, no matter what.

We don’t automatically deserve lots of money, lots of awards, lots of accolades; we’re not promised those things. But we can expect good to come from our hard work: a strong character, a fabulous work ethic, a reputation of excellence, and a legacy of influence.

Dance on.

Ever since Man invented the wheel, we have been intent on creating better ways to move forward. We can now go faster, higher, and farther, all the way to Mars. As Bud Lightyear proclaimed, “TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!!”

Every reference to moving forward is with positive and motivating words: Catapulting forward, Blasting off, Chasing the goal, Leaping forward, Forging ahead, Leap of faith. Every reference to staying in place or going backwards is a bit depressing: Falling behind, Sitting still, Beaten down, Left back, Screeching to a halt, Staying behind. 

I can think of only one positive thing about moving backwards. You are in familiar territory. Even if it’s uncomfortable, or actually a bit painful, you know what to expect. No surprises. Safe.

“But I don’t want to go backwards; I just want to stay where I am,” you might say. Well, you’re out of luck. Everyone else is moving forward, and the only place time moves is forward, so staying in place actually puts you behind, whether you want it or not.

When we’ve been hurt or suffered a big loss, it can feel impossible to move forward. Imagining what the future may hold, or who it doesn’t, seems too scary. We presume it’s empty, because it’s a blank slate, and we only trust what we can see. So, we can become proficient at making excuses to stay back. We don’t make reasons to move forward, because we would have to follow through. “What if I don’t like where I end up?” Nothing has the word forever if we don’t like our situation. Remember, time is still moving forward, with or without us; it’s easier to keep in step. The situation can change if we want it to.

Once we have stayed in place for too long, we can become complacent or discouraged, and staying back feels like our only feasible option. We then start to convince ourselves that it’s not worth the trouble, and then we truly believe that there’s nowhere to go. However, no one truly knows what’s ahead. We can set goals and put ourselves on a path, but we must always be ready for detours; every adventure is one surprise after another. That’s why adventure movies are so popular! Those surprises are what mold, redefine, and refine us.

If you are not happy with yourself and where you are, then examine and focus on the reasons to move forward, rather than using the time to make excuses to stay back. If you really want to change your life, complaining and doing nothing different will certainly provide nothing different! I know, I know, stepping forward can be unpredictable, there are no promises and the decision to move is yours alone. The only promises are the ones from God that He will be with you every step of the way. That’s the only promise you need.

So, is the lack of control the thing that’s holding you back from the future? Why would you spend a lifetime making excuses to stay in an unsatisfactory place when it only takes thirty seconds to take a few steps forward? If you never go forward you will find at the end of your life that your heart is filled with regrets instead of wonderful memories and experiences. And you won’t leave a legacy that will inspire anyone else to move forward. 

Time always moves forward. All the excuses in the world will not make it stop. All we can and should do is not lose heart and

Dance on.

So, here we are. Here we still are! Our finite way of thinking tells us that “a body at rest stays at rest,” possibly forever. There is a song, written many years ago by Pete Seeger, called “Turn.” It’s actually an interpretation of the Bible Scripture, Ecclesiastes 3:2, which talks about the seasons of our life and how they are always changing. The opening words of the song are:

                   “To everything (Turn Turn Turn)

                   There is a season (Turn Turn Turn)

                   And a time to every purpose under heaven“

I have been thinking about the dance and theater world in particular, because life has not just changed or been lonely for our live performance artists – it has screeched to a halt. Along with it are the gloomy predictions about the future and when live performances will actually be able to resume.

For those who are young enough to have never lived through a crisis of global proportions, it must certainly feel as though this is an event that will never end. If you are only thirty or so years old or younger, one to two years of a crisis is a much larger percentage of your life than if you have been alive decades longer. Those of us who have experienced crises have also seen them end. However, even the crises that seem endless have a purpose other than interrupting our lives.

Six months ago, when the spring weather was turning warm, I planted some beautiful flowers that would stay colorful and strong throughout the entire spring and summer. At the same time that I had freshly planted the flowers, my irises started to bloom, which had been planted in the cold fall when all the other pretty flowers were dying. If the iris bulbs had been planted in the wrong season, they wouldn’t bloom when they were supposed to, if at all. Likewise, if I planted my spring flowers when it was cold, they would die. Even if we don’t always understand why, we can see the repercussions of “bad timing.” There are some things that can have modifications in their timing, such as putting job applications to the top of the pile, or rushing through administration protocols. And of course, the best is getting a free pass to the front of the line at Disneyworld! But true growth and maturity can’t be rushed. Learning wisdom can’t be rushed. The best teacher in the world, experience, can’t be rushed. Although this world crisis will come to an end, we can’t rush it along, no matter how much we want to.

Since we have very little control over the timing of this isolation, we can control what we become because of it. For those of us who have already been through one or more crises in life, we know there is light at the end of the tunnel. Aside from how we respond, we can choose very little, and our response reveals what’s inside of us. We can allow ourselves to stop all of our creativity, shake our fists at the atmosphere, and refuse to move. We can curl up into a fetal position under the bed and refuse to come out until it’s over. OR…we can heat up our thought processes and figure out what we are to be doing during this season. We can decide to plant some bulbs in our hearts and lives that will take root and multiply and be ready to grow and bloom when this season changes. Whatever we decide to do now, the results will be seen soon enough. That’s good news…or bad news. That is our choice.

 Every season in life has a fertile time to plant so that we can pluck up the results when we are meant to have them. This crisis can be one such opportunity. We want to be ready for the next season when it’s ready for us. Then we will 

Dance on.

“I’M RIGHT, AND YOU ARE IGNORANT!”

“NO, I’M RIGHT, AND YOU ARE AN IDIOT!”

“IF YOU CAN’T SEE THAT I’M RIGHT, THEN I DON’T THINK I CAN EVER TALK TO YOU   AGAIN!”

“THAT’S JUST FINE WITH ME, YOU ARE CERTAINLY NOT ANYONE WITH WHOM I’D WANT TO ASSOCIATE ANYWAY!”

Sound ridiculous? Have you heard these words? Have you said any of these words? They don’t feel ridiculous to people who are in the throes of a serious argument. They may not sound ridiculous, but they are very dangerous words – sharp little bullets that can do irreparable harm.

I heard an alarming fact on the news recently. Long-time friends will have nothing to do with each other, close relationships are breaking off, and marriages are actually ending in divorce, all over different political opinions. People yell facts at each other, fling insults into the air, and they often seem more intent on “being right” than actually “doing right.” Everyone needs to be heard, but being the loudest and the most offensive does not win, find solutions, nor resolve controversy. It further separates people who are already hurting from isolation. It soon becomes “every man for himself” and people form their own perspective of how and why they should deal with each other.

If you have never read Lord of the Flies, by William Golding, let me summarize it: 

A group of boys from an exclusive prep school survive an airplane crash on a deserted island. As time goes on and the boys are stranded alone, they begin to establish their own society and form of government. Their isolation and fears bring out the primitive, savage behavior that we like to believe is below our own level of culture and development. What we don’t want to believe is that we are all capable of the same violence, cruelty, and abusive behavior. We even find ways to justify it when we are desperate.

We have such limited ways of expressing our intense feelings right now. There are no venues or opportunities where we can channel our anger, fear, and frustration. Dance companies are unable to perform, Broadway is closed, concert halls are dark, singers and musicians cannot perform live, concerts are all virtual…our only real-time voices are to verbally and loudly express our anger and frustration at a fever pitch. We must be right.

Paradoxically, we think that “being right” is “doing right.” It’s a bit like shaking a soda bottle because you’re angry at it for fizzing. More shaking creates more fizzing until it finally explodes; we apparently are exploding because we are so incensed that everything is exploding.

The arts have always been a sign of a culture that has development, refinement, beauty, intelligence, and reflect something much deeper. The arts show that people still have the desire to give rather than just take. We are the only part of God’s creation that creates through inspiration and imagination; that’s because He wants people to see how we can encourage good in others. 

All of the arts also give people the opportunity to express uncomfortable or controversial ideas within the safety of anonymity. No one feels safe now when they see that expressing their opinions have the potential to incur violent opposition. However, being able to have a voice and reveal all the emotional nuances allows for a seemingly better form of communication. People will listen to a song or watch a piece of choreography, even when they express an opposing viewpoint. It’s as if we aren’t hearing each other; we’re just waiting for the other guy to shut up so we can “enlighten” him with our wisdom, insults, and louder voice.

We must hang on to the arts so we can hang on to each other. Our arts keep our voices and relationships intact, and they force us to listen and hear each other. Music, dance, voice, and theater have never been extra “add-ons” to our society. They reflect our deepest motives, and if we let them fall away, we become nothing more than the same violent, cannibalistic culture as in Lord of the Flies.” We kill each other, either physically or emotionally, in our own selfish desire to kill others before they kill us…and of course, so we can “be right.”

This piece was very hard for me to write. It took me almost five days to yank it out, because I don’t want people to feel uncomfortable or be angry at me. But then I realized that writing is also an art, and why should any artist be forced to feel uncomfortable and incomplete because they don’t want to make others uncomfortable?  That’s how to lose your voice, and it’s certainly not being honest. I suppose that hesitation proves my point. I don’t want to just repost news articles or only post quotes from other people. I want to transparently be myself and write without malice and with honest intent.

The best way to “be right” is always to “do right.”

And to dance on.

            Have you ever worked your hardest to climb an overwhelmingly high mountain? You may think it’s impossibly high, because you have never seen the peak. The mountain is steep and rocky, and it’s tough to even get a foothold. Just when you think you have found a little ledge on which to rest for a bit, it breaks loose and you slip back. Then you have to work even harder to get back up to the place where you were before you slipped. All the while, the sharp rocks are cutting into your hands and legs, gravel and dust are falling in your eyes, and you begin to believe that you will never reach the top. Maybe you don’t care anymore and think seriously about staying at the bottom, where you can lurk in the mountain’s shadow without even seeing the sun.

One of my daughters loves to go rock climbing. She finds it exhilarating and a wonderful challenge to conquer. I prefer to dive into a cold swimming pool. But whether diving or climbing, you still have to do it head first without knowing what to expect along the way.

 Climbing mountains in life is one of those things that we sometimes must do begrudgingly. It is much easier to do it with the support of a buddy, even with the jagged rocks and dust. Knowing that that climb could continue for a very long time can be very disheartening, but doing it alone makes it even more daunting.

What do you do when you think you’ve been making progress, and then you lose confidence and begin to think that you might have been doing it wrong? What if you think that you are the one whose climbing has been dislodging all the rocks and gravel onto the people behind you?

Galatians 6:9 says, “Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time you will reap if you do not grow weary.” Climbing higher may be good, and it gives you a broader view with each step. However, it is hard to not lose heart and then doubt your progress when faced with opposition. Whether it’s rocks and gravel in your face or the doubts of others, the opposition is the same.

I pretty much grew up with a theater being my home away from home. I was either dancing in one or sitting in one.  The orchestra seats and the box seats are the most expensive, because they are closer to the stage or eye level. But way up high in the balcony and upper tiers, although the stage may be further away, you can see the whole stage at once and how it fits into the surrounding theater. Your field of vision catches everything that’s going on at once without having to focus on one side, possibly missing important things on the other side.

When I was in high school, I worked as an usher at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. My friends and I loved being stationed on the orchestra level, because we had the best view during the performances. Every so often, we would have to work on the highest tier. We hated it. We were young with an “orchestra level” perspective. Close up was where we knew the action was. However, we were missing the fact that high up was where the real view was, and still is. The majesty, the lights, the colors, the perspective are all enhanced and show the magnificence of how everything fits together. When choreographers create a ballet, they start with a mental picture of how they want it to look from the perspective of the entire audience. I have danced in ballets that were wonderful to perform, but when we finally saw a video of the performance, we were often surprised and amazed at how it fit together as a whole. Certain movements and floor patterns that didn’t seem to stand out when doing them close to each other in the studio or on stage looked so different and complete when viewed a different way.

So, meanwhile, back on the mountain –

Climbing can be painful, but it IS progress. The people climbing behind you may also be experiencing pain and bruises, but they are also still making progress. Everyone is struggling with the jagged edges and loose ledges, but because they are right behind you, they may be attributing their pain to you. You are aware of the people above you kicking up rocks in your face, but the people behind you are also kicking up their own rocks to the people below them. We are all on the same mountain, and climbing hurts.

But let us not lose heart. We will all reach the peak, and we will all have injuries that will heal. But continuing to climb, no matter what, is “doing good.” Yes, it hurts, sometimes a lot. In that case, we still climb; it just has to be done in pain for a while. When we get to the peak, the view will be amazing, because we will be able to look back down and see how and why it all fits together.

Dance on.

            A new school year is beginning.  Even though I’ve been out of school many years, I still get an excited, anticipatory feeling of renewal at this time of year; more so than on January 1. However, this year is newer than new. Whether attending school online or physically going in, everyone is having a brand new, unique experience. Businesses are teleworking more than ever, brick and mortar businesses are opening with an entirely new safety protocol, and dance studios are taking advantage of the creativity of who they are, and they’re coming up with ingenious ideas to accommodate their students while keeping everyone safe.

Unfortunately, what is a brand new beginning for some is an abrupt ending for others. Many people are forced to give up their businesses out of sorrow and extreme loss. Others are determined to push forward and find ways of modifying what they do without compromising anyone’s health nor their own demand for excellence. Sadly, word on the street is that public shaming on both sides of the “mask/health argument” is how people think they can stand strong and show their “care” and compassion for each other. Shame on us. Shame on all of us.

I don’t believe that shaming or mockery has ever been successful in resolving disagreements or any issues. Excellence is not compromised by showing mercy and kindness to each other. I have never heard of a fight escalating because the participants said, “I understand your point and why you believe that, but here is why I believe fill in the blank.“  We should NEVER compromise our beliefs and convictions, but why do we think nothing of compromising our character? We can only move forward productively when our insistence for excellence is done with mercy and kindness.

  We know that “a harsh word stirs up anger, but a gentle answer turns away wrath” -Proverbs 15:1. The word “gentle” does not mean weak or lacking in conviction. A gentle answer can be extremely strong and often hard to hear, but it’s never shaming nor demeaning. If someone disagrees with me and calls me a foolish idiot, I do not think I am inclined to say, “Oh, I see. Yes, you’re right, that must be the problem. You were right all along. I’ll change.”

So, what does all of this have to do with performing arts? Dancers and all artists don’t just want to create; they NEED to create. No artist wants to or should ever compromise on the journey to excellence. However, the lack of mercy sidetracks it. That missing ingredient turns the quest for excellence into just another activity or skill. You can find instructions to do activities on a video. The inspiration and art are gone.

Having mercy seems to have become an art in itself, albeit waning. Artists show the least mercy to themselves. Putting impossible expectations on ourselves leads us to transferring those expectations onto fellow artists and others around us. Eventually, we try to live up to an unachievable standard. Then, when we fall short, we crumble into despair. Mercy is a gift to us from our Creator, and giving a bit of mercy to ourselves while we continue to strive for excellence is part of the art. We want to have command in our technique, but we need to use our creative gifts to be wise in our integrity and our art.

Excellence has to have a purpose; it is a means to an end, not the final goal all by itself. Otherwise, it’s temporary, superficial, and will blow away with the first wind of the next up and coming talent. Having and showing mercy as we maintain our standards gives us the freedom to create and express without fear and judgement while putting down deep roots in what we believe.

Teachers should be very good at demanding excellence combined with mercy. Mercy is not compromising the high standards; it’s recognizing the difficulty and emotional strength required to reach the high standard, and then having the patience to pull out every ounce of talent in their students. Most of us have had a teacher at some point who paid more attention to policies and rules than finding a creative way to unlock a student’s ability. Mercy takes the time to pull excellence out of each person. Then everyone is raised to the highest standard.

Dance on.

“Trial by Fire”…How many people truly understand the meaning of that phrase? If you do understand it, how many of us understand the benefits of it?

When I was first married, I enrolled in a ceramics class, just for the fun of learning something new. The first thing I learned was how difficult it was and how many steps were required to create even a small bowl that was strong enough to survive the process.

First, a lump of clay has to be thrown as forcefully as possible and many times onto a table to make it malleable. Then it must be aggressively kneaded over and over to squeeze out air bubbles and impurities and make it even more malleable. The idea is to make it “obey” the potter so that the creation turns out exactly as planned. Once the clay is free from impurities and air bubbles, the potter places the lump in the exact center of the flat wheel, and the creation processes begins.

            Using some of the clay mixed with water, called “slip,” the potter begins to hollow out the lump and pull the sides up as the wheel spins. If the clay gets the slightest bit off center, it collapses on the wheel, and a misshapen blob flails around as the potter slows the wheel down and starts over, kneading the clay again. Once the bowl appears to be finished, a wire is used to scrape the bowl off of the wheel and dry out a bit until it’s ready for the oven. At this point, it’s still fragile and can’t be used at all. 

 Now come the tricky part – the oven, or kiln. This special oven is slowly heated up to almost 2,000 degrees F. If it heats up too fast, the bowl will explode. If there’s too much water or impurities left in the clay, it will not only explode, but will shatter any other bowls or pieces that are around it. Most of us in the class lost one or two pieces at some point during the course because the heat revealed the weaknesses that were left in the clay.

After the appropriate baking time, the oven slowly begins to cool. As with the heating up, if the temperature change is too rapid, the clay bowl will explode.

But wait, there’s more. The pieces are now very hard, but not done yet. The pieces still have to be dipped in a glaze for color and sealant, then back into the oven they go for another slow baking process and cooling process. By the way, if one of the pieces is touching another in the hot oven, they fuse together permanently, and the impurities of one are linked with the impurities of the other forever. Once the piece is finally cooled, it is now done. 

So, what does a clay bowl have to do with us?

By now, you may have noticed the similarities in our development and that of a clay bowl. All of us feel thrown on a table at some point and kneaded and kneaded to squeeze out the impurities. Some of us may require more kneading than others, but eventually we are ready for the wheel, and our lives begin to take shape. If we become off-center, we will flail around and have to be kneaded again in order to become what we are meant to be. Our Master Potter has an idea and a plan on how we are to be used, and He will apply the necessary pressure needed to get us where we need to be. Being thrown, falling off the center, being squeezed, and then kneaded again hurts. It’s exhausting and seems unnecessary to us. But it is making us ready to withstand the heat of the oven.

The oven is the true test of what we’re made of. Right now, at this time in history, we are all in the oven. We have made it through the throwing and kneading process, otherwise we wouldn’t be in the oven. But we ARE here now, and the door is locked until we are ready to be taken out. Dancers are feeling the heat because they can’t work or even rehearse, performers can’t be in theaters, musicians can’t play live concerts, so many people are out of work. Singers can’t practice because they can’t sing with masks on, all medical workers are nervous about contracting the illness, restaurants, stores, most businesses, ALL are feeling the extreme heat, and we want to explode. 

Here’s the good news: Unlike lumps of clay, we have a choice. We don’t have a choice of being in the oven, but we DO have a choice as to how to respond to the heat. Our Master Potter has kneaded us and gotten us ready, and His desire is that we will be strong and ready to work and serve. His plan is for all of us in the fire is to get stronger and stronger, never to fall apart. But we still have the choice.

So how do you want to emerge from the oven? Will you be strong, valuable, ready to fulfill your purpose? Or do you prefer to explode under pressure and splatter anger and damaging words on everyone around you? Either way, people are going to be affected by our own experience in the oven. We can shatter the lives of those around us, or we can serve each other through our strength. We can inspire through our kindness. It is our trial by fire.

The heat is on – Dance on.

Using our talents and gifts to sow seeds of hope, encouragement, and kindness in the fields around us can sound so vague and almost esoteric. The whole concept can conjure up images of summer evening at camp,  young people surrounding a campfire and singing We are the World while holding hands and swaying to the music. It’s a lovely feeling (and so are the toasted marshmallows), but it’s basically a “surface sentiment.” It’s temporary, there are no roots, therefore no growth. There’s no bloom. There’s no fruit. There’s no lasting strength to weather harsh storms or trampling.

I truly believe that every gift or talent we possess is for a specific purpose. That purpose is not just to make ourselves happy, nor is it to build our ego. If the use of our gift dies when we do, then the gift was useless. Our gifts were meant to be fluid and to spill over into the next generation – to leave a legacy. Our gifts are meant to affect others, to express what we feel, to teach, to influence, to bring joy, to make people think. Most importantly, our gifts are meant to honor God.

How do we do that? Many people think they don’t have any talents. That’s not true. Everyone has a special gift. It may not be in music or dance, or a visual art, or writing, but the gifts are as varied and unique as the people who have them. 

Compassion is a gift. Taking someone into your home to build them up and nurturing them is using that gift. It gives them the strength, desire, and motivation to use their own gift, and perhaps do the same for someone else.

  Patience is a gift we’re using when we can wait with hope while helping someone who is struggling to climb back up, then seeing them fall again, and helping to pull them up again, perhaps a bit higher, and repeat over and over again until they finally reach the top. If they have developed the confidence to achieve because of your long-term, persistent support, that’s using your gift. 

When people know that they can completely relax in your home and always feel welcomed, loved, and appreciated, that’s the gift of hospitality. It’s not about having big parties. When people don’t feel afraid to be themselves without judgement and criticism, that’s also hospitality, and that’s using your gift.

Anything that influences others and brings comfort, joy, and inspiration is a gift. There are so many gifts that we all have; it would take volumes to cite each one and its use. But, your gift is there, and it can be used in ways that you can’t yet imagine.

My grandmother was a professional seamstress in Russia. She escaped from there when she was a relatively young woman, and she used her gift to make a living for herself when she arrived in America. She taught me to sew when I was very little, as well as to crochet and knit (she also taught me how to whistle). Now let’s jump ahead a few decades. I started ballet at 

7 ½ years old, and I’ve learned to use that gift throughout my whole life. When my husband and I started a professional ballet company, I soon had to deal with the issue of costumes. We had a friend help us for a couple of years at first, but then it all fell to me. It was far too expensive to buy costumes, and I wanted to design what actually fit our choreography, so I pulled up the gift that my grandmother had taught me. A lot of my earlier costumes filled up the trash can more than the stage, but the desire was there, and so our costume closet was born.

            A few years ago, a very wonderful woman and friend of mine passed away. Two of her daughters had been ballet students of mine, and they gave me all of the fabric that had been in their mom’s sewing closet. It was clothing fabric, rather than costume fabric, but the knowledge and practice of sewing that my grandmother had taught me was passed down. That gift and the majority of my friend’s fabric allowed me to make clothing for impoverished children in Colombia. If my friend had never had her gift of sewing, she wouldn’t have had all of that fabric to pass to me. If my grandmother hadn’t taught me to sew, I wouldn’t have been able to make all those clothes, which will in turn be passed down to younger kids as they grow.

            It’s sowing seeds of hope through sewing. I had thought that sewing was a rather insignificant skill that no one did anymore, because buying clothes is so much easier…for most people. But God used it as a gift. Although so much of my early sewing did end up in the trash, those mistakes taught me so much more about life. Every single thing that we can do for ourselves can be used as a gift for someone else. Cooking, caregiving, cleaning, ironing… I was bedridden during one of my pregnancies, and a friend came over every week and insisted on doing my ironing for me. She said she loved ironing so much that she deliberately let her clothes stay in the dryer for a long time so that they would need more ironing! She may have been crazy to some, but it was a priceless gift to me. I had two other children and a husband who was at work from 5:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. every day. She was the definition of sharing her gifts! 

            Did you know that organization is a gift? Being proficient with a hammer and nails, plumbing, auto repair, computer skills – all things that help those who can’t are gifts. They sow seeds into people who need to have something grow in their lives and in their hearts.

            The underlying gift behind all of the talents is the desire to give back and to reflect the many facets of God, so find the gifts and use them. They’re in there.

Dance on.