Were you ever given a promise, and then without realizing it, your imagination took you waaaaaaay down the road to a presumed finish? At the beginning, you were so excited just thinking about getting what you asked for; you couldn’t wait to have it!

Waiting for a promise is hard enough for adults, but children have a very limited sense of time and patience. Okay, children have no patience! I’m pretty much like a child in that respect. However, all personal weaknesses aside, promises are considered sacred oaths  that can never be broken. Whenever we ask someone for a commitment or necessary favor, the first thing out of our mouths is, “Do you promise?” It’s easy to forget the human element in making promises. The promise maker has absolutely no wiggle room in case of emergencies. What’s that expression we’ve all learned…”A promise is a promise!” We stake our integrity on it.

God goes so far as to say that anyone who trusts in Him will not be disappointed, nor put to shame -Isaiah 49:23, Romans 10:11, and 1 Peter 2:6. All three times, trusting and waiting are part of the equation. Patience seems to be a requirement for just about anything that’s significant and worth the wait. That’s because we don’t ever know the future, and as hard as we may try, we can’t control it. We sometimes torment ourselves by trying to make it happen on our own, or we can allow ourselves to sink into despair assuming we are defeated. OR…we can wait for the promise to come at the right time. I have tried baking many batches of cookies, and then ruined the dough by taking them out of the oven too soon. When I was a child, I would eagerly wait for newly planted marigold seeds to sprout, only to kill them by digging them up to peek at their progress. We can’t rush through the growth of a plant, and we can’t rush through receiving a promise. If we have to wait, it doesn’t mean the promise was broken. A promise is made on the terms of the person who made the promise. If we take it upon ourselves to change the timing and the rules, we will most likely be disappointed every time. That promise basically becomes something of our insistence, and that doesn’t necessarily have an outcome that we would want!

God’s promises are a sure thing, because He already knows that the gift will arrive at the right time. If we’re disappointed, then He’s not finished yet. If we decide out of impatience or discouragement to fly off course and rush the process, then we can’t be angry at the results. The cookies will be raw, and the marigolds won’t grow. Timing is everything!

Dance on.

I have the pleasure, no, the privilege, of working with preschoolers three days a week. One of the little guys in class loves to dance. When there’s some transition time between lessons during the day, we put the music on, and the room fills with littles bodies jumping up and down. They look like popcorn. One little boy, I’ll call him Sam, always wants the same song. He hears the very first note of the intro, his face lights up with a smile bigger than his head, and he is catapulted into total joy and movement. He becomes Snoopy doing his “happy dance.”

One day, instead of letting the song play until the end, I stopped the music and called out, “Freeze!” Not only does that help develop muscle control, but it trains their listening and responsive skills, as well as their analytical ability to know that something new is on the horizon. After the first couple of times, the kids got the hang of it and would deliberately freeze in goofy positions…except Sam. He was caught up in his own little world of happy. He maintained the same smile, the same movement, the same curls bopping up and down. The only difference was he was dancing in silence while everyone else was frozen in position. I called out “Freeze!” again, but he still wouldn’t stop. When he finally realized that he didn’t have a choice, he started to cry (yes, I felt as though I had kicked a puppy), and he said through his tears, ”But, I don’t wanna freeze!” He was afraid that if he stopped, it would mean that it was the end of the fun for good. He was confusing “being still” with stopping altogether – no future fun, no further instructions for anything that he could possibly enjoy.

So, how often do we fail to stop to listen for further information? God says, ”Be still and know that I am God (Psalm 46:10). But wait! Doesn’t that mean that someone else is making a decision for us? Doesn’t that infer that someone else knows what we need better than we do?

Sort of. First of all, we don’t always know what’s best for our lives. Have you seen the news?? Second, we always have a choice. That’s one of the greatest gifts we have been given – we can choose how to behave and how to respond. Third, we certainly know best what we want, but I’m not really sure that we always know what we actually need. As we were growing up, even now, how often did we have to do things that we didn’t want to do, only to realize later that those things were crucial and so necessary? Sometimes we have to make those difficult choices sooner to realize the potential later down the road.

Being still means perking up our ears and waiting for our marching orders for what’s next – for what’s even better. It doesn’t mean that we sit around in limbo or stick our heads down into the nearest sandbox. Being still and listening means that we can have more confidence that our presumptions are not taking priority over what we actually know and can learn. It means being comfortable with being uncomfortable. Freezing is not shutting out the world, it’s letting God’s voice be heard when He’s speaking to us.

We all have our own unique path set before us. We may not be able to see further than the next few steps at a time, but occasionally being still will keep us from stepping off onto the wrong road. Sometimes, being still is the only way we can

Dance on.

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.