Tomorrow I will enter the dance studio to begin choreographing a new work. To say that I am scared shitless would be an understatement. It has been awhile since I have been in the studio with dancers. It has been awhile since I have shared my inner most thoughts, joys, and demons with others through my movements. I am comforted knowing that I am entering the studio with two dancers who have been with me through a lot, personally, professionally, and artistically. We have laughed, cried, screamed at one another, and worked our asses off together to embody what it is I need to communicate through movement. I am confident that we can embark upon this journey together once again. And yet, I am still filled with fear.
I have not choreographed in close to two years now. Admitting that is hard. It has not been an easy two years. There are many reasons why what started as a short hiatus became two years. I’ll save all of that for a later date and time. Do I now know I can live without choreographing? Yes. Do I now know it means living with the profound sense that something integral is missing and I will feel an emptiness that nothing can fill? Yes. How does one let something so vital slip through the cracks for so long? Oh, it’s easy…utter denial every second of every day that things are okay when that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
With butterflies in my stomach I gather all of the things I will need for rehearsal tomorrow. Familiar items that have been tucked away in the back of the closet cause anticipation and excitement to rise within me. My body aches and yearns to move through the open space of the dance studio. No matter how well prepared I am the creative process always brings the unexpected. I want so badly to control everything, especially with feelings of fear and vulnerability taking over every breath. I can only hope by the end of rehearsal tomorrow I am sighing a big sigh or relief. The only thing I know for sure right now is that I do not want to look back in five, ten, or twenty years and regret having left the dance studio before it was truly my time to stop telling stories through movement.