Here’s a no-brainer: These are desperate times. The entire world is dealing with an illness with an elusive treatment, businesses are closing, people are out of jobs, entertainment is scarce, and the prolonged isolation and quarantine is taking its toll. Everyone, at first unified and banding together to fight this battle, is now turning against each other. Doubt has morphed into fear, fear has morphed into distrust, and distrust has blossomed into full blown anger. People are so very angry, and all of that anger is being directed at the opposite political party of your choice. So, we are running. We are running away from the reality of danger, from inconvenience, from uncertainty, and largely from fear.

Because of increasing fervor of COVID-19, politics, and the mixing of the two, it is indeed easier to run away – to turn off the news – to not associate with those of differing opinions. Sadly, it’s like pretending that a hot, simmering pot of water on the fire will never really reach a full, splashing, rolling boil. My mother once left a pot of water filled with eggs on the stove to boil. She was planning on making egg salad sandwiches out of the hard-boiled eggs. She got distracted with some chores, and forgot about the eggs. The water churned away at a full boil until it all evaporated with the hot stove still on. We all heard the explosion in the kitchen, and no one could ignore the boiling eggs any longer. My mother flew down the stairs and saw smashed eggs and shattered eggshells splattered all over the ceiling and the walls! It was a horrible mess, but the worst part was the overpowering smell of burned sulphur that wafted through the house for days. We could clean the walls and the ceiling, but there wasn’t anything we could do about the smell. My mother tried covering it up with sprays and burning candles, but that awful smell lingered for days, and it tainted every other aroma she tried to use.   

Running away from issues and assuming that someone else will deal with them causes messier problems with lingering smells that last for a very long time. If you or anyone you know has ever had fire damage, you know that smoky smell can last forever.  When people run away or refuse to communicate with each other until the other person “comes to their senses,” the same problems will continue to “smell” and linger for generations.

Throughout the years of teaching, I occasionally had students who wanted to quit dancing or leave the studio because of various difficulties. Sometimes the problems were personality clashes between students, sometimes it was an unpopular policy, but whatever the reason, the students or their parents would silently let the problems grow to a level that scared them too much to confront the issues, so without a word, they ran away. It was devastating and made me so angry. The funny thing is, people often react by running away before they have somewhere else to go. That’s a cry of frustration with no plan to resolve the problem. Running away may make the harsh reality seem far off, but aimless running just circles back around to the same reality. Now, the problem has grown bigger, the anger is bigger, the hurt is bigger, and finding the resolution is far more daunting. So, the running away continues, and the cycle goes on.

Proverbs 51:1 says, “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” There certainly is a time for strong action, even harsh words, if the truth is being squelched. But harsh words have become the norm, because the soft answer has been ignored. What if we truly believed that there is a solution to our problems when we agree to respect each other? What if a soft answer was not perceived as lack of conviction or weakness, but as a deliberate desire to preserve relationship? And what if different cultures, customs, personalities, and backgrounds really are wonderful opportunities to expand our expectation and definition of unity and love for each other, rather than our feeling threatened and possessive of what and who we think we should be?

Harsh words can be spoken too quickly, drowning out the soft answer of the truth. They are spoken out of passion and extreme emotion, but sometimes with less understanding. But one truth is consistent: Anything or anyone who deliberately creates division and separation does not understand the purpose of our existence. Our purpose is not to prove we are “right;” our purpose is to facilitate the right attitudes, opportunities, relationships, and treatment of each other, and to possess an upright character. Those with an upright character inspire the same in others. That’s the type of contagion we should be seeing – not fear, or anger, not viruses, and not hate. No more running away. Kindness matters, no matter what.

Dance on.

            Learning an art form involves years of repetition. Ballet is based on repetition. Every day, every class, the same exercises are done over and over again. We get corrections from the teacher, we get stronger, more flexible, and more adaptable. We may never really master or perfect any given aspect of technique, but we learn to appreciate its beauty and to respect the purity and integrity of what it’s supposed to be. We want to repeat it again and again – we want to be better.

            When I took piano lessons as a little girl, I did endless sets of scales and practiced my pieces, all because I wanted to be better. When I was working on my handwriting in school, my class practiced each letter over, and over, and OVER! My teacher made me repeat a bit more than some of my classmates, because I would get impatient, start to get sloppy, and no one could read my writing. I didn’t really care about making it look better, but I did have to be understood, and I cared about that.

            Even in the Bible, God repeats many things multiple times. That’s because we’re supposed to remember, and we’re supposed to get better at loving each other. Some of the things that He repeats are warnings, so that we don’t keep making the same mistakes in history. We don’t seem to be getting better at that…yet.

            Listening to repetition, even if unpleasant, was a given while growing up. Our teachers knew that if lessons and stories were repeated often enough, perhaps in a different way, we would eventually learn and remember. However, the longer I’ve been teaching, the more I’ve seen us becoming a “one and done” culture. I’ve had students’ parents complain that their child has already done this level, or taken that class, is now bored, and wants to move on, even if they’re not really ready. Why make someone repeat if it’s boring, or stressful, or If they “know it” already? Learning from our experiences, especially our mistakes, takes time and thought. It takes a plan, and sometimes it takes a re-routing that we’re not always willing to do. Re-routing takes too long, so we often try to do the same thing the same way (which is our way), because “this time will be different.” It won’t be different. It will be the same mistake. Tenacity and perseverance are wonderful things, but they include the humility to listen to wise counsel.  Ignorant stubbornness always ends up in yet another mistake.

            I’m sure most people have heard it said that history repeats itself. When painful events happen over and over again, many people roll their eyes and say (or think), “Oh, here we go again,” and that’s about the end of it.  Someone else will fix it, right? Maybe those same events keep happening because we’re not trying to learn the right lesson. Perhaps we just want to hunker down until it blows over…again. Perhaps we don’t want to do better, because we think we are better?

            I was born in Washington, D.C., and I lived just seven minutes outside the city in a suburb of Maryland. That meant that most rainy weekends and school field trips were spent in the art galleries, museums, and at memorials. The Smithsonian Institute was and still is my favorite, because even just one of the several buildings has enough exhibits to keep someone fascinated and occupied for over a week. We all had our favorite exhibits, and we made sure to see them every visit in addition to the latest acquisitions. Some of the exhibits memorialize horrific events, some celebrate wonderful scientific phenomena, and some are just beautiful to look at. Although varied in their scope, each building and exhibit are unified in its purpose – to make us learn and remember.

            I have many books in my home that I have already read, but I keep them to re-read; I see different tidbits and get another “take-away” every time. So, I get frustrated and a bit sad when someone says, “I don’t need to hear that again,” or “I’ve seen that, so I’ll go get a cup of coffee until it’s over.” Repetition is always worth the time.

            Have you ever been around war buddies? They take comfort in gathering together and recounting their horrific experiences to each other. It helps them bond, process what they’ve been through, and hopefully learn something about themselves. Women share their own “war stories” about childbirth so that new moms-to-be can be aware and warned. 

            If even God knows it’s necessary to repeat warnings, then why are we not willing to listen more than once, but apparently we are willing to repeat mistakes and then wonder why?

            We all should want to do better, be better, learn better, and love better…by listening better.

Dance on.

 

            Whenever I am right in the thick of sewing costumes for upcoming performances, I use heavy brocades, ethereal tulle, sparkly sequins and jewels….so many different fabrics and materials that tell different stories and create images for those who are going to wear them. Although I always try to keep all the clues of creation confined to my sewing room, traces of what I’m working on seem to leave telltale signs all over my house. As I fold clean laundry, I see remnants of tulle that had stuck to my socks even through the washer and dryer. When I turn the lights on in a room, I see errant sparkles popping up through the carpet fibers, or I am having to pick up loose threads that had been snipped off in the refining process – all to make the creations as beautiful and expressive as possible.

            Normally, I am obsessive about keeping my house neat and tidy (it helps lower my stress level!). However, these remnants make me smile, because they leave a pleasant taste in my mouth over a creation completed and progress being made. HOWEVER, and this is a big “however,” sometimes there are other things left behind that are not so pleasant. Sometimes, a pin has fallen, undetected, in the carpet until my foot detects it. Sometimes, a staple from a card of buttons has been swished accidentally onto the floor, and again, my foot detects it long before my eyes can. It makes me nervous to walk around without my shoes on, because I don’t want any unwelcome surprises.

So, my question is this: What remnants do we leave behind? When we as students, dancers, teachers, or “normal” people are creating and relating to other people, do our remnants leave a smile in someone else’s memory, and do we leave those people in a newly created, more refined state? Or do we leave pins and staples lurking underfoot that make others afraid to walk near us unprotected? Unavoidable mistakes occur, and we try to fix them as much as we can, but what is our ratio of fun remnants and memories to painful pins and staples? Are we known for the work and creations that the remnants represent, or are we known for the pins and staples that cause pain and fear?

From the times we are born, our families raise us with various values, priorities, and attitudes. Many of our opinions are formed by how we were influenced as children. Then we grow, we experience life with various people, we become autonomous, and often our opinions and priorities change and adapt to who we become. What remnants have we held on to from our upbringing? What have we decided to throw away? Does the person I have become create division, discord, and hate, or does the remnant of my life make people want to relive the experience and have more? 

No one is so sweet, wonderful, and perfect that everyone agrees with everything they say. It’s true freedom to know that, although one person’s passion is different from someone else’s, we all come from the Supreme artist’s paintbrush and are crucial parts of His painting. Wonderful memories make people relive them with joy as they think about or use what remnant we leave. The memory of the painful pins and staples that harshly jab lasts forever, so we tread very hesitantly forward…or not at all. 

What are your remnants?

Dance on.

            One of the most popular songs in the last twenty years is from the Disney movie, Frozen. Let it Go has been embraced by every age group, demographic, and virtually every country. It’s used in dance recitals, middle school band concerts, professionally orchestrated recordings, figure skating programs, and even baby toys. Not only is it musically an exciting, blood-pumping composition, but everyone relates to the words – everyone except me. 

I have always been an emotion hoarder. I don’t ever want to release people or things, or experiences that I love. I hate it when someone says to me, “Just let it go!” I can’t. I drown in sentimental reminders and mental memorabilia; I don’t want to accept the fact that almost everything comes to an end. Oh, I don’t have layers of junk littering my home, but in my mind and heart, I never want the last performance to end, for the friends to move away, for the students to grow up and leave. I have always been afraid of loss.

            However, I have learned so many things through loss that I would never have learned any other way. Loss is a part of life; it’s a given that we can’t avoid no matter how hard we try. But wisdom is NOT a given. Although more and more experiences rack up the older we get, wisdom is not an automatic result. What we learn and how we use the experience is a choice we make in the midst of our pain. Those choices can develop our wisdom.

            It is easy to allow pain and loss to define how we see ourselves. When a foot surgery first put an end to my performing career, I didn’t know how to identify myself. Friends would introduce me to other people as “the dancer,” and I felt compelled to say, “Well, not anymore.” I felt diminished for what I considered a failure and a loss in my life. I was told that everyone transitions out of dancing eventually; it’s inevitable, especially when a career such as ballet is so brutal to your body. But I thought I could keep going for as long as I wanted. No matter how much pain I was in, I figured that if I could still schlepp myself across a stage, then I was fine. But I was wrong.

            When my husband passed away, there was absolutely no way that I could bring myself to let go. Do you remember the scene in the movie “Titanic” after the ship sank, and Rose is on the broken wooden door, floating in the black, freezing water? Jack, the love of her life, is in the water, trying to stay afloat while Rose is clinging to his hands and head, and promising with all her heart that she will never let him go. Jack finally freezes to death, but she can’t let go. Perhaps she was thinking, “Is there any worse betrayal than letting go of a person, a true love with an identity that was not only his, but half yours as well, and letting go BY CHOICE? – even if you are grabbing on to someone or something that you don’t really have anymore? How can you consider a choice like that?”

            Choice is the key word. Facing reality, realizing there is a future and a hope, and running towards that is the wise choice; it’s the beginning of wisdom. It’s difficult, because there is a bit of misplaced guilt in letting go and moving forward. I think we (at least I) sometimes feel it’s a selfish move to pursue life after making a vow to “never let go.” However, we are created to make our own mark in the world. We each have a specific purpose, regardless of emotional ties and relationships. Who we are never changes. Sometimes our path in life is parallel with someone else’s, but at some point there will be a fork in the road. When the other person’s path turns off from ours, it doesn’t mean that our own path stops. Memories should not be a road block in our path. We don’t have to try to cling to memories, because memories cling to us no matter what direction our path takes us.

            If even identical twins have different fingerprints, that is proof of our individuality. Wisdom would dictate that we use that individuality and unique experiences – good and bad – to set our paths apart. That means we all have a different purpose that is of value to someone else.

            Moving forward means you have learned. Someone else’s experiences contributed to yours so that you are finally able to move forward. For me, being able to move forward is a tribute to my husband’s life and the significance he brought to mine.

            Letting go is not giving up. It’s climbing up.

So, let go and let’s go dance on.

“We are not alone in this, we are in this together; We are in isolation, but stay connected while practicing social distancing; We will all get through this, however unemployment is worse now than in our country’s history; Better days are coming, but this virus has not yet reached its peak; Businesses can begin to re-open slowly and with restrictions, but there will be a serious surge in COVID-19 cases and deaths that could be worse than what we have now.”

Whew! Everyone all over the world has heard these statements in every language. Some people are taking them very seriously, some don’t believe them at all. Whether people believe these statements, or whether they think the whole thing is a political plot, or bioterrorism, or accurate, or exaggerated, there is one thing that has become a parallel crisis: we have a pandemic of DOUBT-2020. Doubt is an insidious virus that is seeping into every aspect of our lives. We are doubting the future of our businesses, our careers, and we are questioning our ability to educate our children. We are doubtful of the medical researchers, of our leaders, of our long-term care facilities, and we are even doubting our food supplies. I think the worst doubts are in our relationships, in ourselves, and in our faith. Even if we think we have immunity to the virus DOUBT-2020, all it takes is one word or the raising of an eyebrow from someone, and we are infected before we know it. No amount of bleach, hand sanitizer, nor facemasks will protect us.

Our imaginations play a major role in DOUBT-2020. It is extremely demoralizing when we feel we have no control over something as dangerous as a serious illness, especially when we don’t know much about it. So, our imaginations kick in, we convince ourselves and each other that something is a fact, and we panic. Have you seen the supermarket shelves? That’s panic, and keeping our closets bulging with cases of toilet paper is our way of feeling in control. But we’re not in control…fortunately. If I had to be the one in control of this, there would be good reason to panic. However, God has shown his ultimate control in every crisis in so many ways and through so many people that one would think we would know better by now. Our own doubts combine with presumptions, so we feel we need to take over; it’s so contagious that the negative effects spill over into other areas of our lives long after the initial illness is over. Doubt doesn’t like to let go, and the consequences from it can leave some scars that last forever. “Being in this together” then morphs into “every man for himself.”

I am not a medical or economic expert on crises, and even the certified experts are doubting themselves right now. But we can all be experts in kindness, compassion, patience, trust, and faith. We can learn to be kind to those who are fearful, to be compassionate and reassuring to those who are hurting, to be patient towards those who are confused and angry, and to trust those who are well trained in their field. Most of all, we can have faith in God that He will be the one instigating the recovery of the world, and He will be the one to teach us the strength and wisdom we will acquire through it all.

Lovingly take care of each other as we all

            Dance on.

A few days ago, I convinced myself to spend two and a half hours outside pulling weeds out of my yard. I don’t know why; I hate gardening. I hate the bugs, the dirt, the straining of my back, and I’m always petrified that I’ll come across a snake.

My husband, Bob, loved gardening, and he was wonderful at it. I never liked gardening, and I’m really bad at it. However, I don’t want all of his hard work on our yard to disappear among stubborn and profuse weeds, so I want to do the best I can.

Because of my inexperience, I don’t recognize all of the different plants Bob used to design his landscaping. I really don’t know which ones are weeds and which ones are flowers and bushes that just haven’t bloomed yet. Even some of the weeds have a bit of a bloom, so I have to be careful to not pull up the flowers while tending the weeds. 

The truth is, I did pull up some of the flowers by mistake and left a huge weed that had spread out and put down deep roots. Because it was so healthy and prolific, I presumed that the brown, apparently dormant chrysanthemum was the weed, and the bright, green, shiny-leafed stalk was something Bob must have planted a few years ago. If I had gone a little slower and methodically with a modicum of research, I would not have been fooled by the shiny leaves. I was so desperately intent on recreating Bob’s hard work, I didn’t take the time to discern the original flowers from the “pirate” plants.

Often, when we’re anxious to start something new, or restart something that has been halted, our enthusiasm takes over and we grab onto the thing that has pushed itself front and center or is the shiniest. I call weeds pirate plants because they’re strong, invasive, they take over, and we don’t have to do anything to make them grow. They grow so fast they end up choking out the flowers, our dreams, before they have a chance to blossom.

Putting wisdom to work, taking time to nurture and nourish our dreams, and not letting the pirates hijack our focus from the goal is the only way to stay true to who we are.

When this pandemic of 2020 eases up, and as society begins to venture out, plant some seeds, and grow some dreams, we need to not let ourselves become distracted and choked out by the prolific weeds. I’m sure that this is neither the first nor the last time our journeys will be detoured or delayed, either personally or collectively; life is never a straight line from beginning to end. We must always hold tightly to what is valuable to us, and not let the adrenaline of new or long-awaited opportunities choke out the seeds of our dreams.

Check out the weeds before accidentally yanking up the flowers. Weeds may rush to the front, but flowers acquire their beauty gradually as they rise out of the dark.

And dance on. 

There’s a familiar phrase that people say describes me perfectly: Tyranny of the urgent. Those “people” are probably right. But I know I can’t possibly be the only person who can identify with this. With people who live under this endearing (?) quality, everything has a deadline, and we MUST FINISH ON SCHEDULE! When I get an idea to sew something, it must be done TODAY. If I get inspired to write something, I go into overdrive and write as fast and as much as possible, just in case I forget something. Once I start a project, I can’t sleep until I either finish it or find an obvious and acceptable stopping point. Nothing should be put off until tomorrow if it can be done today, right? Right?? Very wrong.

I know all about deadlines that really are necessary. Term papers have to be turned in, doctor appointments require punctuality, income taxes must be filed by a certain date, work projects must be completed on time, and on and on. But let’s face it – EVERYTHING does not have an urgent deadline. I know I tend to create my own urgent deadlines, because…,well, I don’t know. Ever since I was a very little girl, my mother was always saying to me, “Stop rushing!” I was always trying to find a shortcut, or working too fast, even reading and talking to fast. I sometimes missed a lot or made mistakes. I guess there really was a good reason my mother would chide me for rushing. It’s not that it made her nervous; she knew that rushing would cause me to miss valuable moments or opportunities.

The Bible says, “Be still and know that I am God.” – Psalm 46:10. What does that even mean? Why be still when there’s so much to do? During this COVID-19 isolation and quarantine, no one is rushing anywhere – not to work, school, appointments…ANYWHERE. There’s nowhere to run away to or distract from one’s thoughts. So, it’s time to sit and listen. To be still.

I used to think that being still was unproductive and a waste of time. I kind of thought it was being lazy. However, being still and allowing yourself to receive, rather than always having to push, push, push is probably one of the most productive things a person can do. I have discovered that, when I am being still, my heart and mind can hear. Trying to hear yourself think or hear God’s voice while under the tyranny of the urgent is like trying to hear a friend whispering to you while standing at a rock concert. You see the lips moving, but you have to interpret the best you can and just hope you got it right.

Another translation of that scripture says “Surrender your anxiety! Be silent and stop your striving, and you will see that I am God.” – The Passion Translation

We have no choice right now, right? We can’t strive at our usual schedule anyway, so all we can do is surrender our anxiety, listen, and let God handle it. No matter what your beliefs are, when you are powerless to change anything, it’s infinitely easier to let someone who does have power take over. Be still and wait. Be still and listen. Be still and chill.

And dance on.

Ever since I was a little girl I have hated change. If there was a substitute school bus driver, I panicked. Major schedule changes gave me nightmares. When a good friend of mine moved away, it left me stunned and nervous about the hole in my life.  When people talk about a “new normal,” the little girl in me wants to scream, “If it’s new, it’s NOT normal!” The big girl in me screams it, too. I don’t know why; well, maybe I do.

For me, “normal” infers a sense of resolution in my life. Whether it’s good or bad, it’s predictable. “Normal” means I have the choice of variants in my personal landscape. When something does change in my life, I like to feel that I have at least some control of it. Otherwise, the change couldn’t possibly be a positive shift in my life, right?

 Yes, I do realize that my perspective is not …dare I say it?… normal.

            So, I’ve done a lot of thinking lately about the word “normal.” The dictionary defines it as  ”conforming to a standard; usual; typical or expected.” This says to me that our own “normal” is variable, because our own standards differ so much from each other.

            “New normal” has always meant (maybe just to me) that I have no choice at all, nor any peace about my situation. I also presumed that it meant it was  forever. It meant I was giving in if I accepted it. It also meant defeat and that I certainly would not derive any benefit from this change.

            Recently, I had a revelation! That’s probably because I’ve actually taken the time to ponder my questions and listen for answers. There’s a change right there.

            If we gauge “normal” by our own standards, then perhaps it’s not our situations that become a “new normal”; perhaps it’s our own biases and perceptions that need to be updated.

            This whole topic became more significant to me when my husband passed away, and people kept telling me that my life would have a “new normal.” My mindset was to prove that I will absolutely not adjust, this will never be acceptable, and “normal” will never again be on my radar. However, I have discovered that finding a workable solution that leads to a resolution is not accepting defeat. It’s actually a triumph. Carrying anger and resentment is accepting defeat. Learning to move forward despite a change of circumstances is rejuvenating, not just motivating. Newton’s first law of motion is, “A body in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.”

            We face unbalanced forces every day, forces that push against us and distract us or slow us down. Some are strong enough to push us backwards. But Newton’s law also says a “body at rest stays at rest.” As people, staying at rest will eventually cause us to emotionally melt away. Even physically we can’t flourish. So there has to be something that will push us forward. That’s where our friends, family, and faith come in. That’s how we keep our eyes on moving forward. Slipping into stubborn self-pity is a move backwards that finally stops at the very bottom. But travelling up and forward has no limit, and the view is much brighter than from the bottom.

             So, a “new normal” does not have to be a place to park for the rest of your life. It may be a change, but it’s only a transitional change that is an opportunity to add a new dimension, new knowledge about yourself, and a chance to think outside the box. It’s not really a “new normal” anyway – it’s simply another conduit to get you to find and use all the gifts God has given you. It’s not about the situation; there will always be new situations. It’s about your new perspective. THAT is the “new normal.”

Dance on.

Do you mind if I take a few minutes to brag? Oh, it’s not about me; it’s about some heroes I know. They’re MY heroes, so I feel the need to brag.

Most of you know that after this season, in June, I’m laying aside a lifelong, fulltime career to pursue more writing and other passions. It’s also because, after all these years my body finally hurts enough to think twice, and I don’t want to die at the barre at one hundred years old without ever having done the things I know I am still meant to do.

In light of the current events in this world, this closing season is nothing like the way I had always pictured it. Because of COVID-19, the company and studio are closed through most of this season. I had to cancel the company’s spring performing season, and the studio’s student performance is going to be drastically modified. I wanted to give the dancers more. I wanted to give my best; I wanted to finish well.

Like everyone else these last couple of weeks, I have had lots of time at home without being distracted with a frenzied life. I have also had more time alone than I’ve ever had. Here is what I have learned.

We ARE finishing well. The “WE” is the crucial part. No one has ever truly finished well alone. If they think they’re doing it totally on their own, they’re not finishing well. They’re just finished. So, this is how we’re finishing well:

As more and more people are losing their jobs in this tumultuous time, the family budgets need to be re-prioritized, modified, and greatly reduced. Normally, when it comes to the kids, there are more activities than ever before, and parents want to give them every opportunity to pursue what they want. But now, mortgage/rent and food share the top spot, followed by health, family care, and gasoline. Dance classes and sports are not essential for survival (I don’t really believe that), so they’re off the list until further notice, and all the studios have to close anyway for those who still can afford it.

A few days ago, I had to send out a letter to all my dancers saying that we have to close for an uncertain number of weeks, cancel performances, and disappoint dancers. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my career and the very first time I’ve ever had to do it. I’ve had to cancel classes for snow, ice storms, and make those decisions quickly before people left their houses. But this one was for real.

Suddenly, along the horizon enter the heroes!! The parents of my students are at the ready, making donations, giving encouragement, offering suggestions, charging in on their steeds of valor! Truthfully, no one was really on a horse, and the horizon was actually a flood of emails, but to me it was a Cecil B. de Mille triumph. Then the next wave of troops comes in; the teachers at the studio are jumping in to teach online classes, work on grants, helping any way they can, even though some of them have families at home that need attention while they are posting their teaching videos. All are fighting for their land, staking their claim into what has flourished for years! I know this sounds a bit overdramatic, but the emotions and concern are real.

The Bible says to “run the race as if to win.” That means pushing the hardest as you zoom past the finish line, not giving up as you approach. I loved watching the summer Olympics the year when one of the runners on the track team became seriously injured so close to the finish line. His father leaped out of the stands and held him up as he limped over the line. He finished well, but not without someone who loved him holding him up and hearing the cheers of the crowd. He actually finished the best. I have no idea who actually won the medals that year, but decades later, people still remember and talk about that young man and his dad, his hero.

My faculty are my heroes. My dancers and their parents are my heroes. They have leaped out of the stands so we can all cross the line together.

WE are finishing well.

Dance on.

A dear friend gave me a really cute memo pad recently. The cover says, “Life is all about how you handle Plan B.” I love it.

Hmmm…Plan B. The second choice. The fall-back plan. The “just-in-case” plan. The plan many high school seniors make just to keep their parents happy as they pursue Plan A.

I haven’t met too many people whose life ended up with their Plan A completely intact. Plan A is always made when we have very little experience, a lot of wants, and even more assumptions.

Why must Plan A be our only acceptable option in order to feel complete and successful? I do completely understand the mentality of not wanting a “fall back” plan; we don’t want to be tempted to fall back. That was me when I was a teenager. However, I now know that our original Plan A is not going to be the only definition of our lives. Even when it seems that every part of our plan is coming together, there will always be some surprises eventually. It would be naïve to believe that everything will go our way if we just work hard enough.

So, how do we handle Plan B? Do we just become bitter and resentful? It’s so easy for that to happen, and the people who fall into that can remain that way for a very long time. It pretty much takes away their awareness of a viable or possibly better plan, and the rest of their lives will be spent blaming someone else that their Plan A didn’t work out. I think, way down deep (and I duck as I say this), we may want someone else to be accountable for “ruining our lives.” Even if our Plan A is off the table as a result of personal illness or injury, we blame ourselves, or even God, for our being stuck or disappointed.

Good news! Flourishing after the demise of Plan A is never impossible when recognizing that Plan B is not a substitute to shut our eyes to what we started with. Actually, it opens our eyes to see the many options and exciting choices that we didn’t realize you had. Refusing to see or consider other plans makes us pretty blind and unproductive…and uncreative.

I’ve always believed in being focused, passionate, and totally invested in doing what we love. If we truly are creative, then we should admit that we love many things. We can apply that focused energy that we had for the original Plan A towards the new Plan A.

There is a Bible scripture that says, “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might” – Ecclesiastes 9:10. Most of us have wish lists, even bucket lists, of fun and exciting things we want to do.  Sometimes we can make them happen, sometimes we can’t, and we think about them with a wistful smile. We also have dreams and goals of what we ultimately want to do with our lives. Those are much more significant and impactful, so anything different (not “less than”) can easily be considered a failure. But that little memo book I mentioned at the beginning of this with the quote about Plan B also says, “How you handle Plan B reveals your character.” That sounds harsh, and it is very definitive. Disappointment, regret, and bitterness do make people very harsh and critical. When I was a student, some of the meanest and most critical teachers were the ones whose careers didn’t go the way they wanted, and they took their frustration and bitterness out on their students. The very best teachers are the ones who discovered that they have a love and talent for both performing and teaching. They would never have known if they hadn’t been put in a position to have to widen their nets. Modeling out how to switch to or incorporate a Plan B is one of the most important and very best things to teach, because most of the students really will have to develop a Plan B. We are defined by what we do with what we have. That’s the real Plan A. We all should learn that  Plan B can fulfill everything we didn’t realize we wanted all along!Dance on