As I mentioned in my last post, at one point I wanted to become a ballet dancer. And I don’t mean just any old ballet dancer, I meant that I wanted to become a prima ballerina. You know the ones, at the Bolshoi Ballet Company, up in front, on my toes, with a little crown of diamonds and flowers in my hair. You know, the way that they do.
Determined in my goal, I signed up, at the age of 22, for ballet class at my local community college in Tacoma, Washington. Where, I was sure, that I would develop such style and grace that I’d be a shoe-in for the Bolshoi. (My second choice was the Royal Ballet Company in London.)
I think I made it through two whole quarters of ballet class before switching back to swimming, on account of I simply did not have the flexibility or stamina to be a ballet dancer. I sure did love the lessons though, because they made me feel graceful and elegant, even if it was only for the length of the class.
So what, might you ask, engaged me so much as to determine that I wanted to dance for the Bolshoi? I couldn’t tell you how the thought first entered my head, but here is how it went down. Once having signed up, I gleefully acquired the materials list, to wit: one leotard (black), one set tights (white), and one pair of practice slippers (pink or black).
I went top dollar, even back in the day when I had no money (student!) and found the nearest Capezio store because only the best would do for my budding career as a prima ballerina. I practically vibrated with excitement as I picked out my leotard and tights, as I longingly touched the tutus and sweater wraps that would one day be a large part of daily ensemble.
But Christina, I can hear you say at this point, ballet dancers, especially ones destined for the stage, start as young as five! They train for years before even being considered for a school such as the one at Bolshoi or the Royal Ballet School.
Yes, yes, I know. I knew it then and I know it now. I was quite puzzled at the time, too, in the back of my mind, as I considered this strange career choice. For I had always had my eye on an English degree, destined to become a teacher or a writer or both. Why the sudden obsession then?
Well, as I picked out my set of little black slippers (never pink for me!), I turned them over and over in my hand and felt a supreme sense of pleasure rush through me. Once at home with my purchases, I struggled with sewing on the little strap of elastic that helps keep the slippers on, and then I pranced about the apartment in them. Stopping every once in a while to look down and admire them, feeling a whole lot like some fairy tale peasant child, and longed to be able to skip down some stone-lined path in my delicate new slippers, carrying a bucket that I would soon fill with water at the well.
Wait, what? What does fetching a bucket of water have to do with dancing ballet on the stage?
Not a whole lot, as it turns out. After I thought about it a bit, I realized that what I wanted, simply, was a pair of black ballet slippers. Just to wear because I wanted to. I mean, aren’t they cute? And sweet? Every time I put them on my feet, so many stories would blossom in my head. So why did I mix that up with dreams of the Bolshoi?
Well, I think I must have gotten the idea originally from the Disney version of Cinderella. Look, see? She’s wearing them! To scrub floors with! Even though, as I can plainly tell you, little black ballet slippers aren’t meant to do anything more for you than give your feet traction on a slippery practice floor. They would never hold up to even a second’s worth of scrubbing floors or hauling water in buckets from wells.
At any rate, what I figured out was that I didn’t feel as if I could buy the slippers unless I had a reason, such as dreams of being a prima ballerina. So I made up a story around it, in order to justify the expense of around $20 for shoes that I couldn’t do anything with except put on and enjoy. The ballet dancer that I would one day become, on account on these shoes, justified the expense.
Upon realizing that, I donated the leotard and tights to Goodwill and continued to enjoy the slippers until they just plain wore out. Then I bought another pair and enjoyed those, as well. I’m on my third pair now and am no closer than I ever was to those old dreams of the Bolshoi. But I don’t care, ’cause I got me a pair of cute little black leather slippers sos I can pretend I’m in a story.
So any time that I find myself making up a rather large, inexplicable scenario around an idea or a desire, I stop and ask myself, should I apply the Ballet Shoe Theory? Am I making up a reason to justify a particular purchase or activity, and if so, what is the purchase (usually of a small dollar amount, it will turn out) or activity (which is typically easily achieved) that I really, truly want?
Sometimes, the Ballet Shoe Theory is right on target, and I do want the huge, convoluted thing. Other times, most times, I just want the equivalent of the slippers. So I go out and buy them. Or I go to the movie that has the thing I’ve been thinking about. Or I take a road trip. Or I do whatever it is that I truly want. I can tell you, in helping me to hear what my heart is saying to me, the Ballet Shoe Theory has saved me tons of time and money.
Feel free to borrow the Ballet Shoe Theory for yourself and see if it works for you.
Word Count 4/5/2015 – 2,047
Total for April – 10,249