Dancer, Part Two

"Are you good in school?"

"Um, yeah, pretty good."

"Is the something you aren't good at?"

"Let's see...I'm not a very good dancer."

"Cindy Lynn is a good dancer."

"Yeah, I know."

In my last post, I mentioned that this conversation got my brain going in two directions, and went on to highlight the fact that my best friend is stupendous.

The other direction is kind of hinted at in the first paragraph of my last: that dancing is not important enough for me to suffer through the grueling process of being bad at it, and being bad at it, and being bad and then a little better, but mostly bad for a long time until all of the awfulness spills over into something worthwhile.

Well, I'm learning what is worthwhile. As some of you may have noticed, I've created a writing blog, where I'm trying to post a full 12-point, single-spaced page everyday. The thing about it is that ALL OF IT IS TERRIBLE WRITING. But I want, so badly, to do this well. It's a form of art that feels right to me, in a way I can't describe. It's something that is a part of me, although I've spent a lot of energy over the last several years trying to think otherwise. Someday I'll spout off something, some scene in my head, and instead of just my head it'll be a bit of my soul too.

Not that everything I'm writing now doesn't have a little bit of my heart-of-hearts in it...it's just that mostly it's parts of me that I'm not yet familiar with, or I don't know what to do with it. But I'll learn, and that's so good to know.

The neat thing is that I know as I learn to do this more, other aspects of my life will be affected for the better too. Someday, my words and I will dance too.