Memories
The holidays trigger a lot of memories from my childhood all the way through recent adulthood. Reflecting on the past can be a slippery slope - sometimes it illuminates the most impactful times of our lives, and other times, it dredges up painful events, such as the death of a loved one. But memories can also be a time to honor how rich and varied our lives have been, and to find answers to the why of our life’s journey.
When I was 12 years old, I was a student at Boston Ballet, and auditioned for my first Nutcracker. I remember staying up late after auditioning, waiting for “the call”. When I finally did get the call that I would be performing in 2 roles, a reindeer and an angel (two minor but very important roles!!), I felt overwhelmed with joy…..I was going to be on the stage of the Music Hall (aka Wang Center now) with prima ballerinas, a live orchestra conducted by Arthur Fiedler, and several thousand people in the audience. In those days, there was only one cast, with every dancer performing in every performance, about fourteen performances in two weeks. We sat with the make-up artists several hours before every performance to perfect our look, sought out principal dancers to beg for a pointe shoe souvenir autographed by them after the performance, and then signed autographs on programs for the even-younger dancers who looked up to the slightly more grown-up girls like me. Here is a photo of me at 13 years old signing my first autograph. Everyone in the cast was invited to Arthur Fieldler’s 80th birthday party. After the last performance, I took my white ballet slipper and timidly walked into the room where Mr. Fiedler was sitting after the show. He looked tired and a little grumpy, but he did sign my slipper! This experience was a magical memory and informed my dream of becoming a professional ballerina.
A few years later I was an advanced student at the Boston Ballet School. After every class, we would curtsy and thank the ballet mistress, Sidney Leonard, who was strict but not unkind. It took every ounce of courage for me to ask her if I had what it takes to be a professional ballerina. She paused and said, “you’re too big.” At 5’7” and 115 pounds, I was just too large to be a professional ballerina considering the norms at that time. At first, I was disappointed and I quit dance for a year. When I started college in Boston, I decided to study finance instead of dance, but took modern and jazz classes in Cambridge. I no longer pined to be a ballerina, but enjoyed a different, less inhibited type of dance. The memory of my conversation with Ms. Leonard does not evoke sadness, anger or regret, but rather, gratitude for the honest assessment of my ballet future which could have been mired with frustration.
I worked for my family’s packaging business in sales and marketing for 24 years and simultaneously got certified in different types of therapeutic dance and movement, including Dance for Parkinson’s. When my father took ill at Christmas, he and my brother asked if I would transition to full-time with the understanding that I would join my brother in running the business in a few years. After a hard conversation, I realized that I was entering a new phase of my life that would not include my family’s business. That space allowed my therapeutic dance business to flourish in ways that I never dreamed. As painful as that memory was, I knew my life had now come back to where it needed to be. A colleague of mine once said “your life is in alignment with your true purpose”. Sounds a little new age, and yet this is exactly what happened. Those memories were a roadmap for my future that I never even knew existed, and I am grateful for these markers of my life journey that remind me of how far I have come.