Confessions of a Late Life Dancer

Falling in Love

Like a difficult goddess, ballet is so beautiful and yet so demanding to those who fall in love with her. My love affair with this art form began in my late thirties when I started taking adult beginner ballet classes with Kathy Mata. At first, I was not looking for a long term relationship with dance. I was cheating on my steady routine of gym workouts, flirting with exercise variety on the side when I fell hopelessly and irrevocably in love with ballet. It was love at first class, from barre work to ending pose, a romance that would endure throughout the seasons of my life.

Like any other passionate journey, the road to dance was paved with ups and downs, joys and struggles, laughter and tears. The honeymoon phase was over when I encountered chronic trouble doing a clean pirouette. That’s when I knew I needed to feel more than mere love to thrive in this endeavor. I needed nothing less than solid commitment, the kind of perseverance and staying power to practice thousands of pirouettes before I could perform one decent turn. My mind was willing but my flesh would not cooperate. I blamed my late start as a student, the limited rotation in my hip joints, the missing brain-to-muscle connections that impeded my progress. I turned green with envy watching other students improve while my progress seemed indefinitely frozen. Was my union with ballet doomed to failure?

The Elusive Pirouette

Pirouettes are the Goldilocks of the ballet universe. A millimeter too much to one side, a fraction of a second off in timing, too much or too little muscle contraction, the tracking with the eyes — — there are a multitude of ways to get it wrong and very narrow range to get it just right. Despite my dedication, pirouettes eluded me like an on-again, off-again affair. One good pirouette would be followed by ten bad ones, sometimes more. I would correct the alignment on one part of my body only to have another part slip into disarray. Then out of nowhere, a good pirouette would emerge from my multiple attempts, as if to say, “thank you for not giving up.” I will never give up my quest for the perfect pirouette. Pirouettes are lovely, and for a late bloomer like me, they require a lot of devotion and patience if I want them to stay in my life. Like all elements of ballet, pirouettes are ephemeral, evanescent entities that are coveted but not owned. Pirouettes can never be taken for granted, for they drift in and out like a love-interest playing hard-to-get, forcing me to prove my commitment over and over again.

Not for the Faint of Heart

Ballet is not for the faint of heart. For those on pointe, say goodbye to soft, pretty feet and hello to corns, calluses and bruised toenails. Dancing on pointe is not the kind of physical activity that allows one’s mind to wander. I need to be fully present in my body and mindfully engaged in the movement. If all you want is a fun way to work out, there are easier ways to burn calories that don’t evoke the angst and insecurity many dancers face. I practice not just the physical skills required for ballet technique, but the mental determination to keep trying even when the results take years to show. I had to learn to be kinder to myself and not berate myself for my slow development. I dance alongside students who are younger than my adult children. There are days when I feel like a lumbering klutz and can’t do anything right. I struggle constantly with technique because my natural hip alignment turns inward, not outward as required for all ballet moves. Ballet requires high-maintenance devotion. Neglect her and she will act as if she never met me, temporarily blocking access to muscle memory until I re-dedicate my efforts. Because I am utterly smitten, the intermittent and hard-won rewards keep me returning to the challenge. I learned that striving toward my cherished goals elevates my existence even if the results are nowhere to be seen on any given day.

Dance is for Everyone

Ballet is my island of bliss among an ocean of turbulence. It kept me sane during the darkest times of my life. The uglier the world gets, the more I need joy and beauty to raise my spirits. The coordination of movement with music, brain with body, heart with soul brings forth a sublime, transcendent sense of well being. I may have no power over the positions of the planets or the forces of the world, but I can work on the alignment of my body as I rise up onto the point of my toes. Life may careen out of control, but I can strengthen my core to improve my balance inside and out. Ballet is my favorite form of me-time, a sacred space where my troubles melt away and my only concern is my own center of gravity.

My name is Corina and I am a late life dancer. As a late-bloomer, I may be tardy to the party but I am here to stay. I am ongoing proof that no matter one’s age or ability, dance is for everyone.