I should have been emptying my brain, so as to get a decent few hours of rest, but I was only filling it with tiny ballerinas.
Just recently noticed I’m sleeping most nights in this pirouette-like pose: arms either at my side or up above my head and one knee raised, foot tucked in at the side of my leg and my straight leg with toes pointed. I thought too long on the reasons I am so NOT ballerina material. I thought about the episode of Happy Days I watched the other night where Fonzie is ballet dancing and forces his friends to take classes from his ballerina girlfriend. I recalled begging my mother to let me take dance lessons (as a chubby 8 year old) and once she gave in… hurting myself the first day of class – and quitting ballet forever. I thought about how just yesterday I told a friend that I love to dance and them being surprised, unable to “picture that”.
It’s a fair comment, I’m clumsy and self-conscious. In my head I am neither of those things when I am dancing. Just a really good thing for me to remember; we are as we think we are.