I grew up in the middle of the Oklahoma panhandle where fields of corn and wheat meet the endless blue sky. At age three, my mother enrolled me in classes on Main Street at Ada B. Coons School of Dance. Through high school and various studios, I learned Ballet, Tap, and Jazz. Technique, choreography, and self-expression. As a girl, I loved nothing more.

During my freshman year of college, I declared myself a modern dance major and pushed myself to catch up with the stronger dancers. Then the unspeakable happened—I missed a period. I considered my options and chose birth, married Kody and moved to Colorado. My dreams of dancing through life evaporated into the thin mountain air as we started our little family.

The things we do for love.

Decades later I rekindled my self-expression through writing, and for my 50^th birthday I gifted myself a degree through a Creative Writing MFA program. One of my professors encouraged my cohort to do something artistic beyond writing. I began daydreaming of dance classes for the first time in thirty years. I even Googled some but always found excuses—classes were too expensive; I needed a certain type of shoe; what if I didn’t like it? I dabbled in online classes, but the motivation to continue wasn’t there. I needed the accountability of face-to-face community.

This past summer, my friend Georgia invited me to a barefoot class called Nia. She said, “It’s a true healing practice all about dance and movement.” She wanted my first experience to be with Helen, the best teacher she knows. Helen lives, teaches, and trains other Nia teachers on some acreage outside of Montgomery about an hour north of Houston. I was determined to seize my days, and this would be a day trip and an adventure. Georgia promised me the class wouldn’t be too woo-woo or weird.  

Something magical happened that day. Good energy vibrated through the space and through my body. My muscle memory emerged, and I reconnected with the little girl from Oklahoma. I felt part of something bigger than myself and left the class smiling…standing straighter…my head held higher. Georgia and I lunched in quaint downtown Montgomery before heading home. What a great day!

Another time I met Georgia at a local Nia class, and there they were—those same good vibrations. Now, Georgia or not, I dance barefoot once or twice a week with a group. I’m not always motivated to make the drive, but my body, mind, and spirit always respond. I always leave class with a full heart, feeling strong and centered. Sometimes the ladies meet afterwards for coffee, and slowly I’m making new friends.

Each class has a focus. We begin in a circle and introduce ourselves. The teacher says something like, “Today we will focus on the flexibility of our backs. Pay attention to how it feels as you move and use this as a reminder to be flexible in life.” And you know what? I’ve had a minor back issue for years that’s starting to feel better. Georgia was right. This is a healing practice.

During my first Nia class of November, we started in a circle and shared something we were thankful for. When it was my turn, others had beat me to some of my answers, thankful for this class, friends and family, this community. Not to be repetitive, I said, “I’m grateful for this outlet and for self-expression.” The focus that day was the heart—feeling it beat with life, being mindful of the sensation of gratitude, being open to receive and share love.

“Above all else guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”

Proverbs 4:23