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In the pool today, Haruka was trying to get up the nerve to put her head in the water. She had her goggles on, and was pinching her nose shut. I could see her head bobbing up and down as she counted to three inside her head, over and over again.
Mai, who has no fear in the water, was beside Haruka. "Come on," she encouraged her. "It's easy! Let's do it together, okay? One, two, three!" And Mai would dive under the water, while Haruka stood still, her fingers on her nose and her shoulders hunched.
Watching them, I tried to remember the last time I'd done that, try to overcome my fear with a "One, two, three, JUMP!" but I couldn't think of when it was. I can remember doing that when I was a kid, standing on the edge of the pool, trying to get the nerve to dive in. I remember being eleven years old and locking myself in the bathroom for half an hour, crying as I slowly, slowly took the blood-stained bandage off my fresh scar (from the removal of the large birthmark on my knee), ignoring my worried mother who was knocking at the door and offering to help me. I remember sitting on an airplane bound for Paris, off on my own for the first time in my life, and being unable to do anything but close my eyes and will away the panic, reminding myself that I could do this.
And I could. I did. Those times when I make myself do something because I know I can, because I know I should, and because once the first step is taken, it'll all be downhill from there -- those are the easy ones. Worse than that is being unable to do something because I'm physically unable to. Not because I lack flexibility, or strength, or endurance, but because my wrist has been permanently weakened.
Tonight, as the teacher was showing us a new part in the dance, there was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw that there were two movements requiring my whole body weight to be supported by my right hand (this is the contemporary bit, not the ballet bit, as you may have guessed). Last week, there was a part where we had to support ourselves on both hands, which is all right, because I can favour my right, but tonight, I just couldn't do it; there was no way my wrist could take the strain without some kind of support, and it was heartbreaking.
And even more annoying than the fact that I'm extremely unattractive when I cry (my eyes get very red and my nose gets blotchy), my voice fails me, so I couldn't even speak up until Inui-sensei was going around to each of us, checking to see if we'd understood. I finally managed to explain that I couldn't do that jump-kick, and felt like the biggest moron ever when I couldn't find the words to explain that no, it wasn't an injury from using the computer, but from working with kids. At least I was able to explain, as he poked and twisted my wrist around, that it was only a problem when I tried to support my weight with it. He said he'd help me tape it up next time to see how it goes.
[Later on, though, we had a couple of good laughs; first, Inui-sensei explained a movement he wanted us to do as, "Imagine you're wearing a furisode -- think long, flowing sleeves." Apparently my furisode wasn't flowy enough, because he kept correcting me, and finally let out an exasperated, "Furisode! Geisha! Fujiyama!" which had all of us bursting out laughing. And then, while showing us a movement where we have to let ourselves fall/throw ourselves to the floor face-first (it's not a natural movement AT ALL), he said something to the effect of, "Well, it's a good thing you're not men, because then it would be much more painful! Imagine if you landed badly down there -- I'll stop talking now."]
Even now, the whole thing is making me cry. I hate this, I hate having this stupid wrist making things complicated. And yeah, you'd think that a wrist injury wouldn't be such a big deal for someone who does ballet, but in this case it is, unfortunately. But suddenly being forced to acknowledge it after a very long day, and with a million things vying for attention in my mind, it's unpleasant and depressing and discouraging.
But I don't want to go to sleep depressed, so to finish on a positive note, the women I'm doing the performance with are really very sweet, and I had a great time chatting with them tonight. My nihongo wasn't as failtastic as it could have been, once I'd stopped crying.
And also, though I can't do anything about my wrist, I can try to do something about my lack of flexibility. Inui-sensei wants 90 degree arabesques? I'll give him 90 degree arabesques. I've got to stop being lazy -- to paraphrase Elizabeth Bennett, when I find myself lacking, I prefer to suppose it's because I never took the trouble to learn. So now, it's time to improve myself.
Mai, who has no fear in the water, was beside Haruka. "Come on," she encouraged her. "It's easy! Let's do it together, okay? One, two, three!" And Mai would dive under the water, while Haruka stood still, her fingers on her nose and her shoulders hunched.
Watching them, I tried to remember the last time I'd done that, try to overcome my fear with a "One, two, three, JUMP!" but I couldn't think of when it was. I can remember doing that when I was a kid, standing on the edge of the pool, trying to get the nerve to dive in. I remember being eleven years old and locking myself in the bathroom for half an hour, crying as I slowly, slowly took the blood-stained bandage off my fresh scar (from the removal of the large birthmark on my knee), ignoring my worried mother who was knocking at the door and offering to help me. I remember sitting on an airplane bound for Paris, off on my own for the first time in my life, and being unable to do anything but close my eyes and will away the panic, reminding myself that I could do this.
And I could. I did. Those times when I make myself do something because I know I can, because I know I should, and because once the first step is taken, it'll all be downhill from there -- those are the easy ones. Worse than that is being unable to do something because I'm physically unable to. Not because I lack flexibility, or strength, or endurance, but because my wrist has been permanently weakened.
Tonight, as the teacher was showing us a new part in the dance, there was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw that there were two movements requiring my whole body weight to be supported by my right hand (this is the contemporary bit, not the ballet bit, as you may have guessed). Last week, there was a part where we had to support ourselves on both hands, which is all right, because I can favour my right, but tonight, I just couldn't do it; there was no way my wrist could take the strain without some kind of support, and it was heartbreaking.
And even more annoying than the fact that I'm extremely unattractive when I cry (my eyes get very red and my nose gets blotchy), my voice fails me, so I couldn't even speak up until Inui-sensei was going around to each of us, checking to see if we'd understood. I finally managed to explain that I couldn't do that jump-kick, and felt like the biggest moron ever when I couldn't find the words to explain that no, it wasn't an injury from using the computer, but from working with kids. At least I was able to explain, as he poked and twisted my wrist around, that it was only a problem when I tried to support my weight with it. He said he'd help me tape it up next time to see how it goes.
[Later on, though, we had a couple of good laughs; first, Inui-sensei explained a movement he wanted us to do as, "Imagine you're wearing a furisode -- think long, flowing sleeves." Apparently my furisode wasn't flowy enough, because he kept correcting me, and finally let out an exasperated, "Furisode! Geisha! Fujiyama!" which had all of us bursting out laughing. And then, while showing us a movement where we have to let ourselves fall/throw ourselves to the floor face-first (it's not a natural movement AT ALL), he said something to the effect of, "Well, it's a good thing you're not men, because then it would be much more painful! Imagine if you landed badly down there -- I'll stop talking now."]
Even now, the whole thing is making me cry. I hate this, I hate having this stupid wrist making things complicated. And yeah, you'd think that a wrist injury wouldn't be such a big deal for someone who does ballet, but in this case it is, unfortunately. But suddenly being forced to acknowledge it after a very long day, and with a million things vying for attention in my mind, it's unpleasant and depressing and discouraging.
But I don't want to go to sleep depressed, so to finish on a positive note, the women I'm doing the performance with are really very sweet, and I had a great time chatting with them tonight. My nihongo wasn't as failtastic as it could have been, once I'd stopped crying.
And also, though I can't do anything about my wrist, I can try to do something about my lack of flexibility. Inui-sensei wants 90 degree arabesques? I'll give him 90 degree arabesques. I've got to stop being lazy -- to paraphrase Elizabeth Bennett, when I find myself lacking, I prefer to suppose it's because I never took the trouble to learn. So now, it's time to improve myself.
