Eagerness

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/susan-rosenzweig/learning-to-wait-how-west_b_4129983.html

One of my dance instructors said I was a little eager. That's really a kiss of death, but I don't take it too personally, because 1) he's right, and 2) I am learning to be comfortable in my own dance shoes.

Being comfortable with dance is something I wrestle with - I ask, is this a waste of my money? Is it a waste of my time? Why do I feel this intense passion for something I, seven months ago, would have vehemently denied I could have ever entertained, much less dared to think I could master?

It's those doubting, questioning voices in my head that most convince me I need to keep going. See, those voices and the insecurities they stem from want to keep me small and fearful. They'd like for my eagerness to remain something I justify or refuse to look at in the mirror.

Instead, I see myself for all that I am when I dance - the people pleasing, the control issues, the skittishness - and I express that in a partnership of 2 to 5 minutes at a time. It's raw, and gut wrenching, like meeting someone's eyes and realizing they can read my mind. It's an exposure that comes with a price and goes hand-in-hand with one of the greatest gifts I've ever experienced.

In those 300 seconds or so, I'm also likely to exude warmth, humor, intensity, generosity, and joy.

I'm being me, and every bit of me, out in the open for the first time in my life.

“Sleep my little baby-oh
Sleep until you waken
When you wake you'll see the world
If I'm not mistaken...

Kiss a lover
Dance a measure,
Find your name
And buried treasure...

Face your life
Its pain,
Its pleasure,
Leave no path untaken.”- Neil Gaiman