I think I’m opening a dance studio in August. I know I said I’d never do this again, but I’m really think I’m going to. Shoot me.

 Actually, it isn’t going to be a dance studio. It’s going to be a center for the arts, with the foundation built upon a dance and yoga program (for starters). I’m setting up a wider umbrella for this business so it can evolve to include literary arts (writing classes) and other specialty arts that may lead to teaching many of the things we’ve explored these past few years – woodturning, basket weaving, soap making, etc…

Mark plans to continue his work in real estate and hopes to transition to building houses and creating wood arts full time, but he has agreed to be my ballet teacher a few hours a week afterhours, and he will participate as a consultant and help out with performances and other endeavors on a limited basis. Considering the size of our community, I’m assuming the school will stay small (at least compared to our past success) so his part time involvement will be perfect. I’ve promised not to drag him into this new endeavor beyond what he is comfortable with. He misses dance, but not running a dance school. He will enjoy teaching again, but he refuses to submit himself to dance school drama. Amen to that.

 I, on the other hand, do miss running a school I’ve been wrestling with the idea of returning to my profession for several years now, usually talking myself out of it (I don’t forget the reasons we left FLEX) but I do need to go back to work – for financial reasons and for my own saniety. As I told Mark when we first discussed selling our business, if I ever had to go back to work, this is what I would do. Teaching is authentic work for me – everything else leaves me feeling sort of dead inside, but working with young dancers engages me fully, physically, emotionally and intellectually. It’s not a job, it’s a calling.

 Of course, I am not dismissing my age. I’m still able to teach dance proficiently, but my years as a dynamic jazz teacher are limited, fading as we speak. This is why I’m transitioning into a yoga teacher as well, and I’m designing a school that will provide opportunity to teach writing classes as well – journaling as a path to self understanding, perhaps. I will always be able to train quality dance teachers, considering teacher’s training is my forte, so I don’t fear staffing a dance school with quality instructors. All in all, at any age I will be a strong director who can plan programs and choreograph, but I will simply have to evolve as an artist, and make room for new blood in the area of jazz in consideration of my changing stage of life. But . . . .not quite yet.

 Our community needs a good arts center desperately. Positive role models for young women are few and far between here, and other than a few community sports offerings, there aren’t any healthy activities to keep young people engaged. Our community has a huge drop out rate - 30% of our young women get pregnant and married before they are 18! The kids here don’t aspire to more because they can’t picture themselves achieving greater things and sometimes they are not even aware of the possibilities in life. I can’t help but feel the girls in this area need the inspiration, motivation and self-confidence that can be gained through involvement in a quality dance school. Dance widens a child’s horizons, and keeps them out of trouble (gee that sounds condescending, but it’s true). This place needs a FLEX.

 For a long time, Mark and I felt all our hard work and commitment didn’t make a difference to the kids we taught anymore– society and overly indulgent parents had tied our hands so we could no longer influence students in positive ways – It was one of the reasons we chose to retire - but after FLEX crashed we watched changes occur in our former students, behavior we had to contribute to the loss of our influence, and we had to admit that even if we didn’t make the measurable impact we aspired to make, we probably were making a significant difference in the lives of many children.  Huge revelation!

 So, despite the massive mountain that I will have to climb (again) to build a school from scratch, I’m going to take on the challenge. I’ve carefully thought through what I loved and was proud of in our last school, and what made us miserable and dissatisfied, and adjusted my vision accordingly. I’ve done my share of soul searching and considered what I am and am not willing to invite back into my life. I plan to keep the positive elements from our last school, the terrific energy, creativity and commitment to arts education alive, but I also have a decisive plan of action that should curtail the dance school madness that made life a constant frustrating drama. Due to a variety of factors, which include the general attitude and behavior of people in my gentle community, the wisdom I’ve gained from past experience, a four year sabbatical that has refreshed and revived my resilience, and the fact that we don’t need to support a family of five on this school, and therefore won’t have to make compromises or grit our teeth and sustain emotional abuse out of financial necessity, I believe I can develop a school on the principals I believe are right and true. Something wonderful can happen here.

 When I first started talking about it, Mark gently pointed out that I’m not the vivacious, kick butt dancer I was at 30 when I opened FLEX. He said I was too old to be a dance teacher now, and so was he. Dance is for the young, and we just didn’t have it in us to do the job in the way we once did. (He said this while watching hip hop dancers spinning on their head on America’s Best Dance Team, as if I‘d have to be able to do this to relate to new movement today.) He pointed out that a very important part of what made me a strong teacher was that students were inspired by watching me dance.  Without that, training dancers would be difficult. Thanks . . . I think.

 I understood his point. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt convinced that what I lack in physical prowess as a performer at this age, I make up for in wisdom. I feel I have more to give as a teacher at 50, thanks to miles of experience and a wider perception, than I ever did at 30. Twenty years ago I was a newly retired performer who opened a dance school because it was the only way I knew to make a living. Now, I’m a seasoned teacher who feels compelled to share her knowledge because I’ve seen firsthand the power of movement and personal discipline on young people’s lives.  My attitude has changed drastically. At 30, all I wanted to do was make stronger dancers. At 50, my ambition is to make stronger people.

 I’ve worked with over 10,000 students over the years, and only a few of them went on to dance professionally. I’m proud of those dancers, of course, but I’m equally proud of those students who went on to other professions who now claim their years dancing with us gave them experiences and life skills that enriched their lives. Looking back, I see how flawed I was as a teacher in the early years, and how much stronger I was later (and our school and dancers reflected this). I feel even more capable now that I’ve had the much needed distance from FLEX.

 Furthermore, it’s not like I have to deal with a learning curve in starting up a school. I have so much dance school management experience that the planning and organization is as simple as breathing. I get to skip all those painful lessons learned through mistakes the first time around. Ee-gad – if I had to do it all again IN THE SAME STRESSFUL WAY as the first time I opened a studio, I’d never consider it.  So now, it is a matter of getting in shape, and planning a schedule that will allows me to be as effective a teacher as I’m capable of being.

 Yoga has been central to my shifting ideals. It’s changed my perception of the world, taught me to detach emotionally from stress situations, and shown me just how physically strong I still am. My body swiftly responded to the physical asana and I’m flexible and energized again. Dance is returning to my body as if it never left. Part of the Yoga Alliance training involves teaching your peers, and the moment I began communicating what should be going on with the body, I felt at home. Grounded.  I guess you can say yoga reminded me of who I am.

 At first, I was very frustrated because Yoga training is the exact opposite of dance training, and after a lifetime of studying dance a certain way, I wasn’t ready to shed my concepts about movement to make room for a different approach.  Yoga was unsatisfying. It felt too stationary. Contained. I hated the way there was no absolute correct way to execute a position. In dance there is right and wrong – perfection is the ultimate goal and you are expected to do whatever it takes to achieve the goal – even if it means tearing up your body. In yoga, there is no right or wrong, only what is right for this body at this time in this place. It is non-judgmental, non–competitive, and encourages gentle adjustments to protect the body. Yoga heals, where dance breaks down. The accepting nature of yoga philosophy, the concern for the individual, is the opposite of dance, sad but true.

 Nevertheless, I couldn’t stop feeling dance was superior. I love the challenge of the art – the illusive perfection a dancer chases. Deep down, I admire dance for striving to break the boundaries of the human condition. And frankly, I’ve always felt spiritually connected to dance, so the fact that yoga is a spiritual practice didn’t give it extra credit.

 But then I read something in a book by B. K. S. Iyengar (greatest influence in Western Yoga today) that put my frustration into perspective. He states:

 “The difference between yoga and dance is that yoga is the perfect art in action, whereas dance is a perfect art in motion. In dance there is external expression through movement, whereas in yoga, there is an intense inner dynamism, to the observer it may appear static. The movement may be very slight, but the action is tremendous.”   

 And suddenly I understood the central difference between dance and yoga. I could tune in to the inner dynamics of yoga, and it felt as satisfying as the external dynamics of dance. The inner grace and acceptance that comes from a non-judgmental, non-competitive approach makes all movement seem beautiful now. Instead of focusing on what isn’t perfect, I’ve begun to see that imperfection can be lovely too. What counts is the person behind the movement- the connections the artist makes through movement – deep inner connections, as well as external connections with the world (or an audience).

 Sounds a bit touchy-feely, I guess, but the lessons I’ve gained from yoga are powerful. Not a day goes by in the yoga training that I don’t’ think – I WISH I KNEW ALL THIS WHEN I WAS TEACHING DANCE. Lord knows, this would have made me a stronger teacher. I could have made better connections with my students, helped them adapt to movement without so much struggle, and helped them embrace dance without feelings of inadequacy. All the problems of wounded egos and the needless drama that’s connected to dance could be controlled with a yoga mindset.

 And all this helped me overcome my anger and the self-inflicted obstacles that drove me away from teaching. Now, I’m inspired to create a school according to a new vision, to help students and parents find peace and satisfaction within a strong dance-training program.  I look forward to combining my many years of dance with my newfound yoga-view to make the dance experience more poignant and gratifying .

  I guess you can say I’ve mellowed with age – or perhaps I’ve just seen enough that I finally know what matters. Anyway, I’m ready to combine the eclectic information I’ve amassed during this four years I’ve been on FLEX sabbatical (the humility and intellectual growth I received from my MFA, the spirituality from yoga training, and diverse skills and exciting new concepts I gained from the tons of art adventures Mark and I have pursued) with my previous dance experiences to see what kind of old-fart teacher/director I’ll be now. I’m a more well-rounded person now – and I’ve always said that an artist is only as good as what they have to say to the world. If all you know is dance – you have little to say to the non-dancing world at large. I believe a more balanced, intelligent person is a better teacher, no matter what the subject is.  Well – at least I will try out the theory.

 So, I’ve been in dance director mode once again. I’ve done major work on the new Art Center’s website, and I’ve been thrilled to see how comprehensive the foundation for this school is already. We have lots to draw from – lots of experience, established material, supportive documents, and defined systems. I’ve even gotten testimonials from former students, thinking they would be inspirational for future students, but in fact, they’ve proved very inspiring for me.  It is a great motivator.

 I’ve found a perfect 3000 square foot location for the school with a very low cost per square foot; a nice size to start because I know how important it is to keep overhead low until an arts organization is established. I don’t want financial stress interfering with the integrity of the school. Mark worked up a design and we’ve received quotes for the build-out. I’ve written a business plan, a marketing plan, and even done preliminary schedules. I’ve crunched the numbers, and there is little risk financially, despite the limping economy. The only question now is, do I really want to step back onto this particular path again? I haven’t given up writing and I’m still committed to living a life in balance where family and nature are given equal time to work. Do I trust that I can run a school without being sucked dry this time around?

 All systems are go. It’s just a matter of making the motion to get it all underway.

I’m standing on the edge of the cliff. But I’m a yogi now, so before I act, I will meditate. I will sit in stillness and wait for the direction that comes from deep within. Then, I will follow what my heart tells me is right.