When Old Things Become New Again

Mara here:

It's 2018. Honestly, it still feels like 2017. I'm not sure when the transition happens, but at some point I settle into the idea of it being a new year. I'm not there yet.

During the holidays, everyone in my immediate family had some time off. My daughter had three weeks off school, and my husband, who works for Sony Pictures Entertainment, had the week off between Christmas and New Year's.

Holiday breaks are always a weird combination of chaos and quiet. Schedules and routines get disrupted and there's the hustle and bustle of family visits and holiday obligations. But there's also time for people to do things they don't have time to do when there's work and school.

For my husband, his normal "extra time" activity is reading. But he's also rediscovered video games. We've had various game systems over the years, but they generally sat unused. More recently, he's been playing again with more regularity. I think he's enjoying the total distraction that the games provide.

Over the break from school, my daughter rediscovered Harry Potter. She read all the books when she was in elementary school, but was never a huge fan of the series. This past week, HBO showed a back-to-back marathon of all the movies, and she spent the day in bed watching them and is now re-reading the books. It's been a nice way for her relax and recover from her very stressful academic schedule. And it's fun to see her appreciate the creativity of the Harry Potter world and the relationships in the stories in a new way now that she's older.

For me, I've gone back to ballet class. Returning to dance after several years of not taking any classes—not even exercise classes—has been physically and mentally challenging.

For most of my life, I've taken dance classes regularly. At times, I danced for up to eight hours a day. From the time Malia was two up until the time she was twelve, I took ballet 4-5 times a week, and even popped into a jazz class or a hip hop class for fun. And when I didn't dance as much, I'd stayed active at a gym or by jogging outside. 

But then, as happens with life, everything got very busy.

My daughter's travel schedule associated with her acting made any kind of regular exercise routine difficult. And for me, routine is important. I need routines for exercise and also just for getting through my daily life. I need the familiarity of knowing what to expect. So the years of traveling with schedules that were very unpredictable shredded my nerves. 

When her acting commitments no longer required traveling, mentally I struggled to regain a sense routine for myself. I had gained a lot of weight and just couldn't push myself to start moving again. I was mentally and physically stagnant. Finally, about a year ago, I started jogging again. I was determined at least to build up some stamina and be a little more active.

I was also regularly teaching ballet, even though I wasn't doing much dancing myself. I'd give short demonstrations or illustrate marking exercises, which sort of felt like dancing, but wasn't really. But that time in the dance room, watching the students and making corrections, kept me connected to dance just enough for me to not feel as if I was completely missing out.

But about six months ago, I stopped teaching. After a couple months of not being connected to dance at all, I realized how much I missed it. I missed the feel of the dance room. I missed the music. I missed the dancing.

So I thought about going back to class.

Then I dismissed that thought.

But the thought would keep popping back into my head. I would try to push it away, but I couldn't get rid of it.

So finally, about a month ago, I worked up the courage to go to a ballet class. I'm in my 40s now, and returning to a dance class after almost three years of not taking any classes turned out to be an interesting experience!

For starters, I'm taking the class in Los Angeles at one of the "hippest" dance studios in the city. What this means is that I am in class with a lot of young, hip, kids. Honestly, they look like babies with really long legs.

You might wonder why it would be hard to take a ballet class since it hadn't been that long since I'd been teaching it regularly. The thing is, teaching a dance class is very different from taking one. You can teach a dance class without moving much. I generally demonstrate more than a lot of teachers, but it's still not anything like taking a 90 minutes class full out. That's why you always see the stereotypical "old crone" ballet teacher, walking around hitting kids with their canes.

Teaching dance is about being able to communicate corrections. It's about being able to see movement and explain to dancers how to create it. Teachers who can also demonstrate what they're talking about are great. But it's not necessary. There are lots of teachers, like me, who because of age and injury, find it hard to dance.

And the age thing is no joke. Let's just say my body is not the same body it was 15 years ago—which was the last time I returned to dancing after an extended break.

This time, returning to dance, I'm realizing that I don't think I will ever get back to the same level of skill I think of myself as having. I used to always think, "I'll get back into shape," meaning back to the shape I was previously. 

I have no such expectation now.

Various injuries have permanently limited some of my range of motion. And mentally, I'm just not as ambitious as I used to be. Being one of the best in the room used to be very important to me. Now, I just enjoy the experience of the class. I love dancing and I enjoy working on the things I know I need to work on.

But I know I'll never be the same bouncy 20 year old I once was.

I'm sure I could work hard for multiple hours a day for weeks and months and years and get myself back into very good shape. But it would be very good shape for a 40+ year old who doesn't have ambition anymore to be a dancer for anyone but herself.

And there's no reason for me to do that to myself. I'm not planning on dancing professionally again. I don't have anything to prove to anyone.

So I'm rediscovering ballet class. In many ways I'm trying to approach it as if I'm starting new. Because the reasons I'm dancing and the enjoyment I get from taking class are all new.

It's a nice way to start a new year. It's been a nice reminder that pleasures don't always come from "new" things. It's good to remember that there are many different ways we can interpret our experiences.

Here are some questions I asked my mom about rediscovering old pleasures.

I'm sure you've had a lot of experience rediscovering how to enjoy things now that your life is more limited by illness. Can you provide some examples of how you were able to experience things in a new way?

Sometimes circumstances force us to take up activities that we put aside years ago. For me, those circumstances have been becoming mostly housebound by chronic illness. It led me to take up several activities I'd engaged in years ago when I was home, raising you and your brother—before I went to law school and then became a teacher and spent most of my days outside the house.

For example, I rediscovered crochet and also embroidery. And I have, as you mentioned, experienced them in a new way and that's made them fresh for me. For example, instead of following instructions, I've taken to working "freeform" as it's called. I'll post a picture at the end of the blog of one of my freeform embroideries. It's been a great creative outlet for me!

Do you have advice for people who are interested in renewing their enjoyment in activities they've lost pleasure in?

Yes, I'd advise doing what I've done—try doing the activity in a new way. It's not hard to find new ways to do things because there's an incredible amount of information on the internet. I've learned so much just by watching YouTube videos on embroidery, fabric art, and freeform crochet. I don't copy what I find but other people's work and instructions become the inspiration for trying something in a new way.

An undersea scene by Toni