Dancing Without A Mask

At the ballet school I attend, we are not only trained in technique, but we are trained to be performing artists even if most of us will never see a professional career. Every so often, Ms. Mylene takes the time to tell us that the audience, whoever they may be, does NOT care about our dead toes or cramping calves. We, as performing artists, exist solely to transport them if even for just two hours into a world of beauty and no worries. We exist to entertain them, spin stories with our bodies that will have them smiling when they remember the dance and to them leave the theater feeling hopeful, light and perhaps giddy. Ms. Mylene is good with words too. =)

So smile as your ankle shatters, and let your eyes twinkle when your back groans. After months of this, the ladies and I have become quite adept in swallowing our groans. We haven't quite mastered the smiling part but the fact remains that since our art is a visual art, our faces serve to mask the agony and fatigue we feel while dancing.

The problem lies in the fact that I do not want to wear such a mask when I perform as a member of the dance ministry at church. Something I just figured out last night before dancing at the Sunset Service 12th Anniversary. A lot of things in my body were a bit "off" --- my back was still hurting from ponches and crunches at class, my achilles tendons were aching, my toes were giving me an excruciating time and my calves were cramping. There was plenty to "mask". Not just the pain and me being tired and not yet fully rested after two classes on pointes (my first time too), but the fear and anxiety about not having a perfectly choreographed piece, not being in-sync during our "duet" in I Can Only Imagine, dancing on tiled concrete floors and the potential hazards of hurting my knee or slipping in the wrong way and twisting somthing, the proximity of the crowd and my own bad sense of space.

I could have danced last night wearing the mask. But I didn't want to. So I spent myself in tears and prayer. I was in desperate need of His assurance and His presence. I wanted to dance out of the peace that is beyond understanding and the assurance that God was with me. (Am I still making sense?) I didn't want a mask but a face that radiated His strength, His assurance that even if I fall or we forget our steps, He is still God and He is still pleased and He is still, somehow, magnified.

Exodus 33:12-16 is a conversation between Moses and the Lord that holds similarities to the situation last night. I did not want to dance without God. I would not move if He didn't move. For I don't only dance with an audience of One but I have to dance with the One who puts me on that stage in the first place.

I would have appreciated a supernatural surge of strength in my legs and a supernatural numbness in my feet, but all God gave me was a quiet assurance and a weird sense of peace. As Salve got dressed, I warmed up in my toe shoes. The pain was still there but I was no longer grimacing, which is supernatural, don't you think?

We survived last night, much to our surprise. I fell during a souttenu in "What Child is This?" but as soon as I crawled to the "stage wings", I found myself chuckling at the experience of once again, falling during a turn. At least now I know that the fall during ballet class served to prepare me for a quick get up and grabbing my presence of mind. And the best thing? God was indeed there with us.

"My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest." --- Exodus 33:14

And now, it's off to rest. Goodnight to all you children and beloved of the Father.