ballet dancing

I believe I must have been a ballet dancer in a previous life and that great love has leaked through to this one, saturating my being. Ever since I was very very young I have adored ballet. I am not sure I loved it as in the normal girly way that most girls love ballet. Such as being filled with giddiness at the thought of wearing pink, ruffles, tutus, and acting like a beautiful princess. I absolutely love classical orchestral music, and I love how watching how ballet dancers can express their souls through such graceful moves, with such precision and beauty. I watch in admiration and with hopeless hope that someday I will be able to do that. I found this video and just could not get over how incredibly beautiful this man dances paired with such a wonderful deep feeling song. I could just watch this all day.

I have realized over the past few months that watching someone perform something that they have poured their soul into, practicing and perfecting, touches me deep in my own soul. I hadn't pinpointed the specific reason for my gushing tears until I began to notice it across the board. A poetry reading, a kids recital, a ballet routine. I think it just always amazes me to see such hard work come to fruition and to know that there are people in this world that work hard to get good at something. I find that to be something amazing. I especially love it when it is someone celebrating their own body. I have watched my daughter mourn her own body for not working in the way that most do. My eyes have been forever opened to see that so many in our world are crying these same tears. I love it when I see people loving who they are celebrating the body they have been born into. It gets me every time. Add ballet into the picture, and I am elated. Add my own daughters, and I am in heaven. You can imagine what kind of an emotional mess I am during our daughters' dance recitals. Those are my favorite days.