Last Saturday I took my first hip hop class ever. I was so excited! I had been wanting to take classes for years, and always told myself I had no money, no time, no spaciousness. After moving, I decided to pick up one hobby, and hip hop was my choice.
I expected to be completely confused about all the moves and steps, to be by far the oldest, to have the least snazzy outfit. And yes, that was exactly what happened.
And what I hadn’t expected, was that I would cry for the first 15 minutes solidly. Tenderly. Tears rolled down my eyes, no drama, just a deep sense of gratefulness that I had taken the class. 43 Years after I first wanted to be a dancer.
I wasn’t the oldest, I was the youngest. Here sat the six-year old Elly who so deeply wanted to take ballet classes, and was told that that was not her thing. She was sent to girls scout instead. For 43 years that big dream got covered under home work, chores, family events, work, community commitments.
And now, after all those years, I am finally listening to the little girl inside me, and honoring her wish to be a dancer. Of course, I won’t make it to the professional stage. I don’t need to, I don’t even want to. I am happy with blogging, coaching, and mediating. That’s so me. And in the weekends I can become the best dancer Elly can be.
I didn’t get the steps right, the moves were too complicated, the speed was too fast, and when I finally mastered one move, the class applauded me. I cried again. My six year old was delighted.
January 20, I wrote a post about dying at peace, in harmony with myself. I know I am heading there, now that I chose to live my life to the fullest right here, right now.
With my six-year old. And all the other parts of me.
I am very, very happy.
Want help honoring your inner child? Contact me 512-589-0482. I would be excited to work with you.