Introduction

What do you do when your whole life is put on hold?

If you are a student, you study online (if you’ve got a computer and wifi), but if you’re a ballet student, there are some added factors.

My granddaughter, Elizabeth Corsig, is in her third year at Indiana University’s Ballet department. She was having a very good year. She was looking forward to the summer and seven weeks at Ballet Chicago with artistic director Dan Duell, the former principal dancer with New York City Ballet, when the hammer came down.

“Everyone go home,” the school said. “Shelter in place, we’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out. In the meantime, do what you can, and sign up for Zoom.”

Elizabeth turned an extra bedroom into a dance studio, put in mirrors, and added a special floor. Then came this assignment from her teacher:

Write a journal entry to reflect about what we have learned about ourselves and our art form during this time …

Little did the teacher know that Liz was already writing a journal during this time, but this assignment, to quote my grandaughter, “… seemed to be a perfect time to try and pull all my jumbled thoughts together into one cohesive message.”

So without further ado …

Life on Hold

I’ve gone through a wide array of emotions during my time at home. Every day is different and I’ve cycled between sadness, motivation, anger, gratitude, disappointment, joy, and confusion.

The hardest thing I’ve had to cope with is lack of motivation.

Over the course of my life, I have dealt with this feeling only occasionally. It is not something that I have had practice dealing with, and it scares me. It makes me feel guilty and ashamed.

Most days, I feel disciplined, motivated, and ready to work hard in my dancing. Other days, it feels like the hardest thing in the world to do. I’ve been trying to allow myself to feel this way, but I never allow it to overtake me.

I never allow myself to skip class, no matter how I’m feeling. Some days, I take the class and surprise myself by how good I start to feel.

Other days, I take the class, and I still feel bad the whole time. I’ve told myself that as long as I take all the classes being offered that day (conditioning, ballet, pointe) then I can count that day as a victory. I don’t have to feel my best when I’m taking them, but I’ve made it a daily habit, like making your bed. I don’t give myself another option. One thing I really want to improve on is my consistency.

There are days when I feel like I’m working hard and improving a lot. And then there are days when all I feel is frustration. I’m hoping that over time, I will get more used to this and the good days will start to be normal and the bad days will only happen rarely. This time is all about being patient with ourselves.

I think that’s the only choice we have.

This is teaching us all how be intrinsically motivated. Intrinsic motivation is the ability to work hard – even when a reward is not in sight.

We have no idea when all this hard work is going to pay off. We don’t know when we will get to dance or perform again. I have come to the realization this will be a game of who can hang on the longest; who can continue to work and continue to love ballet, no matter how long we are stuck in this situation.

In order to hang on, we have no choice but to find motivation from somewhere deep inside, as opposed to finding it from casting. I’ve struggled with thoughts like “when will live performances be able to happen again?” “Is this going to make it impossible for me to get a job?” (something I was already worried about before all this), “Will we even be able to go back to school in the fall?” “How will ballet companies survive this?”

These are all valid questions, but when these questions come up in my head, I force myself to take a step back.

All I know right now is that I love ballet and even doing in my house is much better than not doing it at all.

I want to do ballet for as long as I can, in whatever way I can. I repeat these facts to myself often. That might be all I know for sure right now, but that is enough to keep me going. I watch my favorite ballets on YouTube and I find comfort in the fact that someday, people are going to want to see our art again. I want to be ready when that day comes.

The most important thing we have all discovered through this is gratitude.

When I think back over the past (almost) three years, it’s a bunch of small moments that come to mind. Like freshman year class dinners at Forest; baby classes in 307; walking into the MAC on a beautiful, sunny day during tech week; standing in the wings watching your friends killing it onstage; full run-throughs with the whole department gathered into 305.

Those tiny moments are the things I miss right now. I’ve realized we all spend a lot of time focusing on the future. We are constantly waiting. Waiting to get into the company we want and to get to call ourselves “professionals.” Waiting to get cast in the role. Waiting for someone to tell us that we’re doing well. Waiting to feel like we’ve finally “done it.” What I am realizing right now is: This IS it. Right now. Right here. It’s all the tiny moments.

Every single morning we get out of bed and put two feet on the floor and walk to the studio. Those ARE the moments. We are living it. There are so many unknowns, but I know that I will get to dance again, some way, somehow.

When that day comes, it will be with a new kind of intensity and freedom I didn’t even know existed. I will be able to dance without the fear of failure.

How could I possibly fail when I’ve already won?

I am so grateful.

— Elizabeth Corsig

Epilogue

Even in these uncertain times, Elizabeth is making the choice to remain faithful to her craft – to her art. The same way I needed to stay true to my Unifying Principles and my four pillars of kindness, the environment, fairness, and equality.

Reading Liz’ entry makes me proud. I’m thrilled to see that making good choices runs in the family.