Empowering Trust

I never would have guessed I would ever dance ballet on stage for thousands of people. Sure enough, a couple weeks ago I completed my second season as Herr Drosselmeyer in The Conservatory’s production of The Nutcracker.

The most inspiring part for me? The front row seat to watch young men and women push themselves and discover what they’re truly capable of.

This year, Clara was played by a talented high school freshman named Evie. As Clara, she was onstage for the entire two-hour show and had to learn an enormous amount of choreography. One of the most advanced maneuvers was a “helicopter lift” where I raised her into the air and she rotated 270 degrees over my head before coming down in an arched back position known as the “fish” pose.

We practiced the helicopter for months, getting progressively more proficient. Days before opening night we could consistently land it about 85-90% of the time. However, we had failed to land it during some of the last rehearsals. Safety wasn’t an issue. We had worked through the technical challenges. It was a question of mental and emotional focus at this point. I could tell Evie was worried.

“Do you think we can do this?” She asked me backstage.

“I know we can do this,” I told her truthfully.

That said, the helicopter was by no means required. So, during one of our final rehearsals, I asked our choreographer if we should consider changing the lift. After all, I offered, I wanted Evie to feel confident and beautiful on stage.

Karen was steadfast. “She will feel confident and beautiful…when she lands the lift.” Turning to Evie she said, “I’m not letting you out of this, because I know you can do it.”

Evie and I nodded and got back to work. We honed our technique. We worked on visualization. We practiced before every show. Evie learned to crush the doubts in her head. In the first two performances we successfully completed the lift, but knew it was a little bumpy—so we kept at it.

In the final performance, Evie didn’t just fly. She soared. She shot up strong and confident, spun gracefully in the air, and stuck the fish pose perfectly. The audience erupted in applause. Time stood still.

Evie beamed with pride.

I’m so grateful Karen didn’t give us an out. If she had listened to me, Evie would never have had that moment—the moment she knew for certain that she could trust herself.

For Reflection: Who in your life needs your trust to help them grow?


Update: 23% First Draft Complete

As my proposal is being reviewed, I’m pressing on with the rest of the first draft. Almost done with the third chapter!


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