Analogy

What I learned from years of dance:

You work hard. You work until your muscles shake, and then you work some more. You jump higher, reach higher and stretch further than you thought you could. You get blisters that break and bleed; you might get pulled muscles, but you still keep pushing. Sometimes—usually—you go back to the next class before your sores have healed. This makes it more painful to do the class than it is normally, but you do it anyway. You may grimace through parts of the class because it is so hard, mentally as well as physically. But you work at being—and you do learn to be—smooth, graceful, and smile through it all. You get tough and strong, but you do it so well that everyone who sees you thinks it is effortless. You do it because what you get at the end is worth it. In the end, it is the audience—pleasing the audience, the love of pleasing the audience—that makes all your work and your performance worthwhile.

There must be an analogy for life here. If only I can master the graceful, smiling, effortless part of it while I am still in the class.