Ballet Class

Years ago, during my first introduction to Judaism (in a synagogue class called, you might imagine, "Intro to Judaism") (or something so similar to that as to be indistinguishable) somebody asked the rabbi, before or after the class, about one of her hobbies. The rabbi was a vocational ceramicist, an a classmate wanted to know what had drawn her to the medium.

"The reason I learned ceramics," the rabbi replied, "was that I wanted to know what it was like to start from zero and learn an entirely new skill as an adult."

This idea fascinated 22-yr-old me, because it had never yet occurred to me to do something with the end goal of stepping out of my comfort zone.

At that point, only a few months had passed since I had moved everything I owned 1,800 miles, to a region of the country I had never visited. I started looking, once I arrived, for a job that payed rent for an apartment I could not otherwise afford. And I had made the even more moxie-licious (to me) step of visiting synagogues (mysterious and loomingly terrifying places) and actually talking to people inside, despite a painfully acute sense of otherness.

Still, this rabbi had certainly taken her share of risks (among them, moving from Brazil to New York and becoming a rabbi at a time when many of her professors believed that women shouldn't). It took me some time to realize that there's a difference between taking big risks, and being willing to flub a basic skill because you lack the muscle memory. Learning ceramics as an adult likely isn't scary, but that doesn't mean it isn't really, really hard to get right.

***

The Tea school has been closed since August, with an new school downtown scheduled to open for regular classes any day now. The Tea Association held a refresher course last month, but it's very hard to keep up a regimen without regular lessons. It's important to touch base frequently with a teacher who can correct your mistakes before they become ingrained.

I have missed Tea, but during the odd Tea experiences of the past few months I've begun to consider something. It may be that I have moved, in the past year or so, from one of the better beginners to one of the more unskilled intermediate students in the area. The actions of Tea, which once felt awkward and unreasonable, make sense now. Certain things just, um, work the way they're supposed to.

(Tea has what feels like an infinite number of proscribed rules which, when followed completely, allow for an economy of motion and ease of expression that are rather impressive.)

During this Tea hiatus, I recently felt a strong urge to study ballet. After bouncing around my head for a couple of days, this idea burst forth with great strength a week ago Sunday. I went online in search of ballet, and I found a 6-week introductory class that was set to begin the very next evening at the Joy of Motion Dance Center in Bethesda MD.

My reasoning for taking ballet was twofold. First, I dislike exercise for its own sake and I am inexplicably hostile toward yoga, but ballet could be an entertaining end toward which I might work out. Second, ballet was all about carriage and comportment and thus would surely help my Tea.

So far, I feel not unlike an ungainly toad or goose or other ungainly animal. However, trying an entirely new thing as an adult? It's generally a good idea to try.