Transitions.
- At April 14, 2014
- By Molly Chester
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As the sun snuck below the sky on a crisp Monday evening, I arrived early to my dance studio on High Street and received horrible news – the studio was closing. I sat right down and stuck my nose in a book to avoid openly crying.
There was a week after it closed that didn’t involve any dance at all, unless you count twirling around my hallway listening to Sara Bareilles’s Brave. It was surprisingly hard for me to go from regular classes to nothing. I’ve got plenty of theories, as to why this made me slide into a pout. But, I believe it boils down to this – I’ve gotta dance. To become the highest version of me, I need it like rest and laughter. And right now, I am reliant upon great instructors to lead me to what I can’t quite see.
My teacher, Dennon, referred me to another, much harder class, which I have now begun to take. It’s farther away, and I’m currently the lousy one in the class, which shouldn’t be too hard for me to remember, but still requires adjusting. And thankfully, Dennon is picking up classes at a new studio in Simi Valley, which is amazing news. I miss him. He became a fixture of inspiration and joy for me. None of his new classes are a perfect fit for my style and skill level yet, but I’m starting to remember that life usually works out in time.
I’m finally ready to choose patience. Whereas at first, I was perfectly comfortable drowning my sorrows in this Cloud Icing. . .
Try Cloud Icing over chocolate cake or really, anything!
