Most people, as young versions of themselves, leave their dancing dreams in front of dresser mirrors. But a handful possess a love and creative ability to tell a story through dexterity, fluidity, and movement. They sense their talent and coax out its perfection.
When they perform, their creative beauty loosens our austerity. We, simply by watching the years of discipline and persistence on display, become untethered and look at life from a new direction. By the end of an artist’s performance, we are not the same. We have been changed by the encounter.
From our seats, we are forced by the artist to question why we have denied ourselves the movable, soul-quenching freedom that dancing allows us to express. Our dancing inquisitor asks, why are you are not on the dance floor?
And yet, in a live performance, the audience becomes the dancing partner if we allow ourselves to be so.
On March 24, 2014 at the New Prague Annual Ice Figure-Skating Show, not only did I witness beauty on ice at the New Prague Community Center as my seventeen-year-old niece, McKenzie Trewartha, mesmerized the audience with her figure-skating solo, but as I sat on a bleacher, I joined in spirit with the dance on ice.
I arrived as an observer. But as the show progressed, not only did I join the dance, but the different ages and levels of the figure skaters’ performances became metaphors for different stages of life.
The young skating dancers, four- and five-years-old, wore sequins and rhinestones and flouncy-skirted outfits in happy colors. On weak ankles they performed, missed cues, stumbled, picked themselves up again, caused another skater to fall — yet they executed a precious dance in a “Show Must Go On” flow. These little dancing dreamers worked out their best efforts, completely okay with the level of development that they were in. They experienced complete joy in, to use a cliché, putting their best feet forward. To have expected more of them at their age would have been cruel. Their performances made me mindful that change, for the most part, doesn’t happen overnight. Progress happens in little conquered stages.
The more advanced skaters came onto the ice and with them more metaphors. They took their skate protectors off, and put their brave on as they stepped onto the ice. There was a new edginess to their blades as stronger ankles carved out coordination, skill, and new, learned moves of spins and turns and jumps which they had worked on all year. Strong lines of beauty and finesse became visible.
Finally, Kenzie came on the ice and I became involved in the dance. I saw precise execution that only comes with practice, intense concentration on a sport where one’s competition is one’s self, confidence gained by allowing one’s self to be put on a rink rimmed with onlookers as she jumped, twirled, spun, dizzied. I saw delight and joy in a sport, one that captivated her audience. I saw her glow as she beautifully expressed successful moves. I experienced with her the living and breathing definition of pleasure in the pursuit of a worthy ideal.
As she bowed — her signal that the dance was over — those who rimmed the rink exploded in cheers and thunderous applause. A few of us choked back tears. Those there supporting her had joined the dance of her life, celebrating in spirit the ways and efforts and years she had given to reach this culminating moment.
These kinds of moments we need to do in life, too. To bow, to take a pause, to absorb all that we have achieved is to celebrate our in-process lives, no matter our age or stage.
I hope today you will stop, take in a breath, and look around, and give yourself a moment of applause. Take a moment and smile at all those little conquerables you have done. Take a moment just to enjoy life’s journey thus far.
I asked Kenzie to share with me what it is about the sport of figure-skating that she loves. Here’s what she had to say:
As the youngest child, I wanted to be just like my older brother Ben. When Ben did something, I copied him. When he started playing hockey, I wanted to be like him and do something on the ice, too. My parents tried to put me in hockey skates and put a stick in my hand, but I soon found out I had no coordination with the stick and that I really did not like hockey skates. This dream of being on the ice was set aside for a couple of months until I was invited by my neighbors to the Annual Figure Skating Show in New Prague, which has been my home club for the past eleven years. The decorations and the glitter wooed me and I immediately fell in love. I loved the pretty dresses the skaters wore and the cool tricks they did on the ice. I begged my mother to sign me up, which she did and soon thereafter I fell in love with the ice.
I started skating when I was in second grade (eight years old).
At times in my skating life I have felt discouraged to keep skating. Maybe it was because I was sick of it for the time being or some other unimportant reason. There has only been once in my life where I thought about quitting. But when I weighed my options and saw the pros and cons of whether to keep skating or quit, I realized how much I would miss skating if I left. I would miss not only the breathless feeling after I have a great session but the amazing people I have met by being in skating.
Skating has always “been there” for me. On bad days and good. So have the people. I have always felt that when I am at skating practice and when with my skating friends, it is one of the few times I can truly be myself, without having to worry about the judgment of my peers. Some of my best friends have come from the world of skating and the cool thing is few of them are my age; they are both younger and older.
This is one of the things I have always admired about skating, that it has the power to unite people together in a family-like unit. As my senior year approaches and last spring show approach within the next year, I have started to realize even more of what skating has meant to me. I hope in the future that my love for skating will continue to grow even more.
I would recommend ice-skating to anyone, not even for just young skaters, but to young people, in general. Try as many things as possible! You’ll never know what you’ll fall in love with, but one thing that is for sure is that you will never know if you like it if you’ve never given it a shot! As for skating, if you are having a hard time passing a level, or improving, just remember why you stepped on the ice in the first place and why you’ve continued to come to skating. Remember that as much as your coach wants you to do a skill, ultimately she can’t do it for you, it has to come from within. The most important part? HAVE FUN because if it’s not fun, it’s not worth it! Also, SMILE, SMILE, SMILE! Crowds love seeing skaters who enjoy what they are doing, so show them that you love what you are doing!
I love a lot of moves in skating! But I would have to say that some of my favorites are my layback spin because I feel so graceful doing so. I would also say my axel because it was the first “hard” jump I mastered!
One of the best feelings in the world, as many fellow skaters would agree, is passing a Moves in the Field Test, which is essentially a way for us to move up levels and learn new edge patterns and turns. The patterns are useful but tedious and I have always longed to be done with them! Just last week in March 2014, I took my Junior Moves in the Field (second to last one) and passed! This was a very proud moment for me because I have worked very hard the past six months for that test and the past five years on all of the tests. It is a huge accomplishment to pass Senior Moves and I hope to do so in the next seven months! After many years of hard work and thinking that I may never see the end, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I am almost there!
One question I often get is, “Do you get nervous?” The answer is yes, of course, I always do. Although, after having performed in front of people for many years, it still makes me nervous beforehand, but the part that gets easier each time is the actual performance. I love that people get to watch me perform in a sport that I love. Once I get out on the ice and the music starts, I am all alone in the rink, no one is watching, and I skate my heart out (while smiling of course!)
Thanks, Kenzie, for sharing your passion for skating, and for making the world more beautiful because you do. And for those reading, whatever your passion, your sense of talent, go ahead and pursue that dream of yours. You will be amazing if you give it your all. Kenzie is living, inspirational proof of that. Now, go get your brave on, your shoes on, and get on the dance floor. Amaze yourself.
I believe that we learn by practice. Whether it means to learn to dance by practicing dancing or to learn to live by practicing living, the principles are the same. In each, it is the performance of a dedicated precise set of acts, physical or intellectual, from which comes shape of achievement, a sense of one’s being, a satisfaction of spirit. One becomes, in some area, an athlete of God. Practice means to perform, over and over again in the face of all obstacles, some act of vision, of faith, of desire. Practice is a means of inviting the perfection desired.”
― Martha Graham
About Julie Saffrin
Julie Saffrin is the author of numerous published articles and essays. Her latest book, BlessBack: Thank Those Who Shaped Your Life, explores the power of gratitude and offers 120 creative ways to journey toward positive, lasting change.
Steve Trewartha says
Awesome words of inspiration Julie! Thanks for writing this. A very proud Dad. We are so proud of you, Kenzie
Julie Saffrin says
Thanks, Steve! Your daughter is one amazing person.
Joy DeKok (@JoyEDeKok) says
So beautiful – thank you Julie and Kenzie! I’ll keep this short and return to my “art” (my novel) now – fully inspired to do the work on the page the way Kenzie does on the ice.
Julie Saffrin says
Thanks, Joy! You make beautiful art with words. Can’t wait until Between the Lies releases in a week or two!
Rick Saffrin says
Hey, McKenzie, ditto to Julie’s eloquent words and I want you to know a few tears came to my eyes. Love, Uncle Rick