Every morning it is the same routine. She wakes up, gives a big yawn, and heads
downstairs in the same old uniform. Not a glamorous job at all. Others might
think that being a ballerina instructor to be the perfect job or career. Dance,
stretch and teach others to dance and stretch their imaginations. Remarkable
lady this gal is however. She does the same old thing but to her it always
appears to be somehow new – each and every single day. Don’t get me wrong as she
has her moments like I suppose we all do. She gets frustrated over the little
stuff. Seems the biggest difference between this young woman and others that I
have observed is the way she takes life in stride. In a nutshell, she just
doesn’t let anything or anyone break her stride.
Like a beautiful mare dancing in the wide open spaces in a dazzling display
right after an equaling dazzling dawn, nothing that might present itself as an
obstacle can break her stride. At least this is how it appears right now in her
dancing career.
Can I ask you a question? Don’t mean to be nosey or anything, but what uniform
do you put on everyday? Whether a ballerina outfit or waitress uniform, I
suppose any position can lose its once highly esteemed luster after a bit. This
little ballerina, unlike so many others with differing uniforms, can’t stand
having to go to bed but can’t wait to get out of it in the morning. She works
from home, so she is afforded the opportunity each Tuesday morning to gaze out
of her front storm door at the men who pick up her hurby-curby. Kind of a drab,
off green colored uniform these guys wear from what I have seen, but she enjoys
this special time at the door as a highlight of her daily existence. She likes
to make their jobs less repetitive as she musters up a big smile and gives them
all a huge grin – all the while waving like it might be her last chance to do
so. Don’t get me wrong because as we all know way too well, no one is perfect
and she’ll be the first to admit it. She says, “I’m sorry” more regularly and
with more sincerity than most I’ve met six times her age.
Sometimes I can’t help but think that as soon as this or that change in my life,
all will be just a tad bit better. I think that she has learned a powerful
lesson and it has to do with perception. The way she has chosen to perceive
things, is the way she receives things. She just hasn’t allowed herself to see
too many rainy days and Mondays, and the ones she has, clearly haven’t ever
ruined her morning, afternoon, or evening routine. Those twice her age might be
creating some chaos around her, but again, it doesn’t seem to break her stride.
She just keeps on dancing nonetheless.
In talking to her recently, she speaks of her plans for the future but even as
she does she keeps some semblance of her dancing going. If reminded of a mistake
she made yesterday, she’ll just give me a demure little smile as though I’m
purposefully trying to be a kill-joy. Hmmmmmm. I hadn’t given that much thought
until now, but why do I or any of us rehash another’s past? Good question and
this wise little gal seems to know most of the answers. I guess longevity
doesn’t always equate to legitimacy.
I hope that she’ll keep her job as a ballerina for many years to come so that I
can keep learning simple life lessons from her. But I doubt that she will if I
look at the big picture or project way into the future like I too often tend to
do. Nothing I could say or anything any of her other best friends could say
could break her stride. She is destined for great things. Even if she changed
from a ballerina outfit to a waitress outfit 15 years from now, I kind of think
she’d keep her bright attitude, fresh perspective, and unsophisticated purity.
Well, that’s all I have to write about for now. I best get home before my wife
helps her take off her ballerina uniform and get ready for bed. If I’m so
blessed, I’ll get to watch her dance and sing for me right before I leave for
work in the morning. I wish I could take so many moments, and put them in a jar.
I wish I could stop the world from turning and keep things just the way they
are. I know that I can’t, but I can always wish I could.
Love,
Brian brianjett@chrysalishouse.org
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