fingertips

Fingertips. It’s all about the fingertips. Pulsing through my body and to the very edge of my being. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. First, perfection. Hair, make up, costume, shoes, not a strand out of place; enough to hide the blemishes, but not too much; perfectly fitted to every part of my body; broken in, laced around my legs in perfect symphony. 2 minutes. Enough time for a brief run through in my head, then my good luck ritual. Eyes closed, feet in 1st, head back, breathe. Breathe in for 4, out for 6, 3 times. I am worthy. I am strong. I am beautiful.

My feet are leading the way. 8 steps, light as a feather, quick. As I turn to face the wonderous faces, the familiar feelings of amazement, excitement, and passion whirl together in my heart and wait to be released.  The music quickens, time for the fun. Arms alternating, sweeping through the air as the rest of my body follows my feet once more. Right foot up en pointe, and turn, and step. This is the only time I feel truly satisfied. Each movement satisfies something deep within my heart, this is when I am living my truth, my authenticity. Every part of my body feels truly alive, tingling with love and pride. Especially during the parts where I get to fly. Soaring through the air my entire being is transformed into a beautiful swan, and I am free. This is when joy steps up. Bursts from my stomach and ripples from within me, outwards, to settle upon the faces of those who can see.

More slowly now, returning to the centre. Standing in 3rd, arms rising perfectly in time to the music, slowly making their way above me. Finally, settling. Intertwined slightly, strong but supple, my final statement of the love that surges through me. Fingertips.

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