A Center

“Stand tall and push the shoulders back. No, no. The stomach should not be pulled back into the arch of the back; firmly hold it in. The chin should point upwards over a stretched, elegant neck. Push the tailbone in and keep the legs turned out from the hip, not the knees. Keep the elbows bent, but not too bent, just rounded as if holding a giant beach ball. And don’t forget the fingers! Not stuck out like they were jammed in a car door, but curved and relaxed. Remember long graceful lines. You are, after all, a ballerina.” These thoughts run wildly throughout everyone’s mind, but no one is moving yet. They all wait in anticipation for the music.

The silence stays undisturbed, blanketing the atmosphere until the sweeping melody fills the room, uniting the people with rhythm and movement. The dance class has begun.

Intense concentration is needed to remember all of the intricate steps and every ounce of energy is needed to execute the leaps and turns perfectly. After all, ballet is often described as perfection. There is always something to improve, something to strive for, and for that reason it never becomes boring. The excitement and pure happiness that emanates through my classmates and the room keeps me coming back.

The studio’s pale walls surround an almost bare space of faux wood floor and serve as a mounting place for the full length mirrors. Two wooden barres were placed around the perimeter, and apart from these few items all that remains is a CD shelf accompanied by a stereo. This is not a mere room but comfort itself.

When frustrated, it is a relief to stand in front of the mirror and to simply watch myself. It is amazing what one can teach herself to do. Despite the physical strength needed to dance, the emotional relaxation is calming. Feelings aren’t drained out but rather spent on creating the feeling of the movement.

The peace intertwined with excitement has a force that draws me back along with the rest of the students. This small, almost empty room is our center that shelters without question. It shares our feelings, our hopes, our dreams. The studio holds the heartache that we have left behind and stores the joys of accomplishments past. It sees what will happen in the future, a week, a month, a year from now because in that time we will all be back. Returning is not an option; returning is a must. Our center will remain constant, and we will come forth to find it.