Today I was in a strange mood and I pulled the pointe shoes out of the back of the closet and prised them onto my feet. They were the last pair I bought before my “retirement”–hardly broken in. They are the same shoes I used on the cover of Mercy, because they were the only thing I kept from my less-than-stellar dance “career”. Sadly, after four pregnancies, my Capezio 7C’s only fit if I wedged them on without tights.
I don’t know why I felt I needed to dance today, such as it was. I haven’t danced in almost twenty years now. I’ve been thinking about Mercy a lot. It’s partly because it’s recently finding a new audience and greater sales. I’m so happy about that, but that’s not the main reason it’s on my mind. I think the real reason is because, like Lucy Merritt, I am struggling to move past a phase of my life that I don’t really want to see go. Not dancing, but something else that has defined me for such a long time. And like Lucy, I’m not handling it very well.
I think part of the power of Mercy is that we’ve all been there, done that. We’ve all had to move past life stages, with varying levels of regret. The hope is that you move on to something bigger or better, or at least different in a positive way. I thought about ordering some 7.5C’s (or, let’s be honest, 8C‘s) to stow in the closet just in case I want to start dancing again someday. But the truth is, my dancing days are over and they should be. Life moves on, and the stage I’m leaving now was fun, just like dancing, but it’s over. I need to turn my energies to finding what’s going to come next.
Still, I enjoyed putting those old shoes on today, like meeting up again with an old friend. Within about fifteen minutes of barre and hopping around blissfully, I had a bitch of a blister on my left big toe. Remember the good, remember the bad, I suppose. I used to have blisters on every toe. When I took the shoes off and started to fuss over my blister, my little dog Walter grabbed one by the ribbons and began to gnaw on the toe box. I could tell by the look in his eyes he was blissfully contemplating how best to systematically destroy that shoe. I thought of pulling it away, and at one time I would have, but instead I let him chew it for a while. Why not? All he managed to do was fray the satin of the toe a little bit. And honestly, I won’t need them again.
And now, because it amuses me, I shall subject you to a lengthy slideshow prominently featuring pointe shoes and my dog Walter.
Walter’s utterly adorable. Reminds me of my darling schnauzer that I found drooling in rabbit fur lined boots. They were so warm for the trip I used them for, but as a native South Floridian my darling eventually won the battle by breaking into the closet. 🙂
On a side note, your posting about the shoes made me laugh because I just placed my order for the actual Firebird print copy from Amazon. My estimated delivery date in November 15th, but I still can’t wait to get it!
Oh gosh! Thanks for telling me that, Shauna! They told me it would be available in the next 2-3 months, so I had no idea it would be out there so soon! They’re sending me a few promo copies too. I’m totally over the moon about it.
Love Walter. The definition of adorable.
I KNEW you were a dancer. Mercy and Firebird ring with an authenticity because you are a dancer. Even if you dance once every twenty years, you are still a dancer.
Now, to make you smile — I found a crab apple tree to plant in the Spring so we can shelve environmental worries for the print copy of Firebird. It is — wait for it — a variety called —
Firebird.
Shyfan, that is so AWESOME!! Now I want to go out and find a Firebird tree to plant also. That definitely made me smile, thanks. 🙂
Loved this post, Annabel. I think we all go through various reawakenings throughout our lives — personal renaissances, if you will. But I would also have to agree that we don’t necessarily lose who we are in the process, we just become that much more complex. Being a dancer, I would imagine, is much like being a musician (something to which I can personally relate). Being a musician, for me, is essentially an extension of my soul, or at least a release valve for my soul. I may be between pianos and I may have dust on my flute case, but I am and will always be a musician in my heart.
I will say that I am impressed you were able to let Walter gnaw on your shoes! I am WAY too damned sentimental, I think! 😉 Plus, just think of the kinky photo opportunities… hmm… I think I need to go buy myself some pointe shoes…
Thanks Zelda! And YES to you getting some pointe shoes! There is something sexy about them…they are so sleek and elegant. And I probably wouldn’t have let him chew them if they had some special significance to me…a great performance or a professional peak. As it was they were just my “quitting” shoes. LOL.
Plus his tiny little teeth can’t really damage ANYTHING. Seriously, it’s sad. He wants to destroy…he just can’t. 😉