Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Adventures in D.C. Part I

Breath in. Pause. Deep, slow, exhale.
In other words, a sigh of relief.
Yes. The 12 days of Insanity are now over, and to be honest I'm sitting here, utterly dumbfounded at what transpired over the past two weeks. Did they really happen? How? They must have... But as I try and process through these recent events I, well, I can't really explain...
Have you ever driven to say your home or to work - a trip that is almost too familiar and routine - but upon arriving at your destination you can't really remember how you got there. I mean you got there, and you drove your car, but you don't really remember anything of the actual trip... like did you run a red light? Probably not... but you can't actually remember.
This is what the past 12 days felt like. They happened. That I'm certain of. But how? That I'm not entirely sure of...

Coppélia and The Season Encore performance went off without a hitch.
The end of the year company party was emotional as was to be expected - good-byes always are.
My Interpersonal Communications course was (not surprisingly) a struggle up until the very end, but Praise the Lord He gave me the strength and perseverance to push all the way to the finish line, and to finish victoriously.
And my performances of Benjamin Millipied's 3 Movements in The Kennedy Center's Ballet Across America II were, well, fine.

As a recovering perfectionist, it's hard for me to not ruminate on all minor mistakes and flubs I made, most of which the audience probably didn't notice - at least I hope they didn't notice. But these faux pas' seem to drown out all of the wonderful things that happened.
However, what I've come to learn is that life, this life as a ballerina is too short for these minor issues to steal the joy, and the sense of pride and victory of this great accomplishment.
Of course I want to do well. I want to dance my part perfectly, with poise, grace and presence. But I can't expect perfection - no one can. I can, on the other hand, be satisfied, knowing that I did give it my all; I gave it my best. And more than that, I had fun! I trusted in my Lord, and I danced for Him, thanking Him for this amazing privilege, honor and opportunity it was to dance in the Opera House of the Kennedy Center.

Saturday was the last day of our shows. I was putting quite a bit of pressure on myself to "do well" a.k.a. "do perfectly." But what my devotional said to me that day made me approach the day differently, bringing tears of joy to my eyes. Here's what it said:
"I AM THE FIRM FOUNDATION on which you can dance and sing and celebrate My Presence. This is My high and holy calling for you; receive it as a precious gift. Glorifying and enjoying Me is a higher priority than maintaining a tidy, structured life. Give up your striving to keep everything under control- an impossible task and a waste of precious energy.
My guidance for each of My children is unique. That's why listening to Me is so vital for your well-being. Let me prepare you for the day that awaits you and point you in the right direction. I am with you continually, so don't be intimidated by fear. Though it stalks you, it cannot harm you, as long as you cling to My hand. Keep your eyes on Me, enjoying Peace in My Presence."
Only the Lord could know how appropriate those words would be for me that day.
This wasn't my first time dancing at the Kennedy Center (although it was the first time dancing in the K.C. Opera House), and hopefully it won't be my last.

Well there's definitely more to say about this trip... I realize this is kind of a vague overview - enough to satisfy my dad's curiosity, but my mom would definitely be prodding for more details. So I promise at least one more installment complete with photos. But for now that's all... Time to enjoy the Seattle sunshine!


3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Thank you so much for this post! :)

Anonymous said...

What a powerful post. I'm coming to understand how important humility is to leaving a useful, contented life, and this post really caught at that in a unique way. Thank you, Jessika.

Anonymous said...

Darn it, I meant "living," not "leaving." Hate it when I do that.:-) Except humility probably helps with leaving too...hmmm...