Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Bella Mama, Prima Ballerina


We're so thankful to Jennie Wilde for letting us post this essay at Bloom. We think it captures the evolution into motherhood beautifully. And we think it's a perfect prelude to Valentine's Day as these are definitely thoughts from the heart.

Not long ago, a girl anonymously passed me in a crowd. We exchanged no words, hardly even made eye contact. But somehow, the ten seconds it took her to cross my field of vision left me with distinct impressions. I remember her walk, her posture, the way every cell in her body bespoke what she was. Her chin slightly elevated in quiet confidence, her arms soft but strong, her footsteps gentle and light. It seemed to me that somehow the discipline of her art had fused with her very essence such that every breath she took broadcast “ballerina” to all within view. And something about it, reminded me of the mothers I know best.

It all begins so very simply; bend, stretch– pliè, relevè. Repeat. A million times. Point and flex. Focus on your spot. Find your center of balance. A million times. Simple motions, repeated endlessly. These exercises become building blocks, tools of divine refinement. Repeated and mixed in infinite combinations, built into ever more complicated moves. Repeat. There will be moments of monotony, even futility. But the true dancer pushes on. Pliè, relevè: through sweat and tears, bloody toes, and aching muscles. All under the deep scrutiny of the mirror; always watching, absorbing, analyzing and reflecting her every move. To truly find success requires support, passion, consistency, courage….and even faith. Then somewhere in the midst of all this, at points impossible to perfectly identify, muscles are sculpted. Postures are formed. And physical grace, rhythmic and musical, is infused. It bonds with the soul and emanates so effortlessly from the body that it becomes an appendage. Beauty is simply part of who and what she is.

I gave birth some time ago, but I am still becoming a mother. Bend, lift, twist. Sing, feed, bathe. Repeat. A billion times. Tell stories, clean messes, change diapers. Repeat. A zillion times. Simple actions compose the active structure of motherhood. Teach all that you know. Be your very best self. Guide, enjoy, prepare. Relax, breathe, encourage, accept. The refining process of motherhood is not so unlike the training of a ballerina. It takes discipline and conscious effort. It takes courage. It requires support. It demands faith. And stamina, to repeat the sequence, in all its subtle refining power, yet again.

Pliè, relevè. Bend, lift, twist: love, help, try. Balancing, focusing, never forgetting the mirror remains, reflecting you, your attitudes, weaknesses, failures, and strengths. It’s not a job, or a passing phase of life. Mothering is a life. And, like any human interaction, an art. Like the ballerina, changes are made somewhere deep in the core of whom and what you are, in the memory of the muscles, the heart, and the spirit. And magically, grace– kind, wise, and sure—accompanies you. It shapes every quality of your expression. As it does for all ballerinas, for my mother, my grandmothers. As it one day will for me.


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12 comments:

Kelly said...

Thank you for a lovely post!!

Katrina said...

beautiful!

Kayla said...

beautifully said. thank you

karis stapley said...

That is beautiful! Thank you for sharing that! It really spoke to me. Especially since I grew up dancing & teaching for a few years & know what she's talking about. And I am now also a mother of 3 young boys. A preschooler & twin toddlers, so encouragement is needed as such. Its a great reminder to know that all the little, repetative things of life really do add up for good in the long run.

Melissa said...

What a beautiful post. I thought of this very concept on Sunday when I took a struggling 4 year old Primary class member in my arms to try and subdue/console/comfort him. The other adults, I noticed, were watching me. I felt that calm and quiet confidence of motherhood. I knew I could nurture and be patient because it's who I've become. Of course things could have gone badly and we could have had to return him to his parents, but the feeling I got was that I was equipped to try. This post/essay states so beautifully a gift that we are given as mothers. I am so grateful for this gift!

Heather said...

So beautiful. I cried as I read this. Being 10 weeks pregnant with my 3rd and still not feeling well has been hard on me. I have 2 high energy boys that are 3 and 19 months old. Some days it's all I can do to just show up, and as I read this I am reminded of why I need to keep giving it my all. I know this sick phase will pass, but for now, this gives me the inspiration I need to get me through. Thank you for such a wonderful post.

Abbie said...

I better look hot in a leotard once I get this whole mothering thing down! Love this parable of the ballerina.

Megan said...

That was wonderful. Thank you so much. I think as mothers we all have that sense of greatness that we can become, so its inspiring to be reminded that the greatness comes in the day after day actions!

Martha said...

that makes a lot of sense to me (being a ballerina in a former life). thanks! beautiful.

Curls said...

This is beautiful, thank you!

Laurel said...

oh my lovliness...I want to shout this one out into the world. I want to print it and read it again and again. Thanks for sharing.

Joan said...

Such a perfect analogy. Thank you!