I am a terrible ballet dancer. My arms go left when they should
go right, my turnout is stubbornly awful and my bum sticks out
when I plie. And yet, I absolutely adore my weekly beginners
ballet class. For six months it has been an unshakeable date in
my diary.
I’ve never been particularly big on dance. I’ve only been to
the ballet twice in my life (and the first time I left in the interval
to go to the pub). Despite this, I had an urge to try it. One that
I ignored for much longer than I should have. After an hour-
long taster session at Sadler’s Wells Theatre, I was hooked. It
was hard, it was exhausting, and I left feeling amazing.
I am not a natural dancer. It will always take me longer to
pick up the steps than everyone else. But each week I get better
in the tiniest of ways – often the hardest work and improvement
is only visible to you – and those tiny things add up. My class is
friendly and encouraging but I’ve realised that I don’t measure
myself against everyone else. I only measure against myself.
Knowing that all I have to do is try my hardest is motivation
enough. Sometimes after a long day it’s not about a personal
best, it’s just about showing up. That’s enough.
The most terrifying thing about a dance class is thinking that
everyone is watching you in the mirror and laughing when you
screw up. No one is. We only care about our own ref lection.
Ballet is about getting the smallest of things right, especially
when you’re a beginner. It’s impossible to concentrate on what
someone else is doing when you’re worrying about the position
of your little toe. The second you think about something else –
that deadline you’ve got tomorrow, or that stupid thing you said
to a friend four weeks ago – you lose your footing.
Hobbies have had a makeover recently. They aren’t just
for fun; now they’re side hustles. They’re businesses, they're
opportunities. Every minute of our spare time is something
to be monetised. I'm all for following our passions (and
making that pay), but I’ve seen firsthand the benefits of doing
something just for the sake of doing it. Trying something with
no agenda. Painting because we feel like painting. Singing
because it is freeing. Dancing because it is joyous to move yourbody. I am not going to become a prima ballerina. I don’t have
a desire to. I just love that every Thursday afternoon I stand in a
dance studio and switch off from everything else in my life.
My friend Kat started horse riding a while back and every
time I look at her Instagram, I see a look of joy, pride, and
surprise on her face when she’s clearing a jump. I understand
that look. I’m still surprised when I get something right during
a class. There’s a huge sense of achievement in realising that
actually, you can do it. And you were right to believe that you
could, however tentatively. My writing partner Laura recently
started painting again and I know how happy it makes her to do
something that is just for her. Despite our love of sharing our
lives, our hobbies remain a private joy. The end results don't
have to be on display (or for sale) anywhere.
Ballet has taught me more about my vulnerabilities than
I’d anticipated. I’ve discovered that I play the class clown
when I’m struggling with a new position. My sarcastic quips
come out when we come into the centre and I don’t have the
security of the barre to cling onto. I do it to def lect from my
own weaknesses. I’ve realised that I often do the same in my
professional life, too. My classes have taught me much more
about myself than my posture.
When I started writing this article I couldn’t nail a pirouette.
I was making myself dizzy from trying. Now I can almost land
one. Six months ago I couldn’t have imagined ever being able to
do it. It’s not perfect, but it’s better. I’m trying to accept that I’m
supposed to be getting it wrong. I’m in the class to learn, not
get it right first time. Perfection is something that we’re taught
to strive for when we’re learning. Perfect joined-up writing, 10
out of 10 on the test, beautiful presentation. Ballet is, on the
outside, about all of these things, but so much is work and effort
that you don’t see. My biggest struggle has been giving myself
permission to fail. I’m learning that this is the only way to
improve at anything, not just grand battements. It’s very much
a work in progress, but so am I.
Sian’s ballet classes are with City Academy,
http://www.city-academy.com/ballet-classesThere’s such happiness to be found in learning a new
skill – and even when you have absolutely no natural
talent for the chosen activity, says Sian Meades.
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