Balance

Thursday mornings means ballet fusion at the Y. Not even a stomach bug, potty training, or an injured foot can keep me from going. The odds are fifty/fifty that I will make it to any other scheduled event that I consider. And my plans to do the laundry while Little Man sleeps, well, you can see how that is going.

Ballet fusion means taking an hour for me. It is a time to remember that my health and well being matters too. It is a time to move, to stretch my tired back and remember that I am capable. I am capable of tenacity. I am capable of keeping a beat (for the most part), and I am capable of balance.

I step into Studio A and take a sip of water. I take my place and begin to bounce on my toes in excitement. The first lesson that ballet fusion has taught me is the importance of the warm-up. Stretch, breathe, bend, and return. Repeat. Relax. Ground yourself in the music and the movement. I realized today that this is something I should apply elsewhere in my life. I am enjoying writing and I am utterly excited about the epic, three-book novel with complex characters and themes that I want to pen, but first I must warm up. I must remember how to dance. Just as I must remind my body how to move like a dancer, I need to remind my mind how to think like a writer.

The beat picks up. We are moving in tighter, quicker motions and adding complexity step by step. "Point your toe. And back. Ok, now point, lift, and back. Now lift your arms. Good. Don't forget to engage your core." Oh yes, my core! I tighten my abdomen, the muscles that forgot they have a part to play. I wobble less. I tighten more. There, that feels right. I am steady. I am ready to arabesque and fondu. With my core tight, I coordinate my hands and my feet with ease. Wow, I almost look graceful!

As a family, when we remember our core, that is to say, when we are mindful, we all thrive. Affectionate engagement, awareness and support of each other, and patience help us to all feel more grounded. We are able to focus on our limbs, our coordination of movement, our daily rhythms.

Keeping the core engaged in the studio or at home is hard work but the payoff is immense. I am far less likely to fall over in Studio A and far less likely to snap at my family when the routine gets complicated. By knowing where I stand and being mindful that each movement contributes to the possibility of the next, I achieve what I set out to do with minimal strain.

Little Man and I both look forward to Thursday mornings at the Y. He gets to play with other children; I get to play with other adults; and afterwards we share a stack of pancakes for lunch. It makes us both happy and washes away the stressors the build up as the week goes by. We are both learning how to co-exist and that takes patience. Together our little family of three picks it up, step by step, watching each other's movements to catch up when we fall behind.