Music Appreciations

I enjoy escaping reality. It’s one of my greatest downfalls, but the rush of euphoria and freedom I receive every time I do so convince me otherwise. Maybe because reality and pain go hand-in-hand, and I’m simply desperate enough to do what I can to elude the dark rings closing in on me. I have my share of methods, and dance just happens to be one of the few that I trust to whisk me away with unnecessary interruptions. It’s a fascinating piece of art—underrated and simple—but it was never supposed to become one of my forever. It was never supposed to teach me anything. It was supposed to just be a hobby I could give up on whenever I pleased. I never imagined I would become addicted to it and the hidden values it held.

During the summer of my freshmen year, I entered a summer dance program on behalf of my studio to travel and compete against other dance studios across the country. The program went on for almost three months, and by the end of the first month, I’d managed to climb to the top of my division (which consisted of R&B and hip-hop based choreographies). I was considered the best of the best until my weakness was pitted against me at the very last competition—contemporary classical music.

The style was too different, too slow, and I remember hating every second of practice

Instead of trying to control the music, I let it control me. My mind and body became one seamlessly, and I can vividly recall the way the individual piano keys embraced me wholly like a string of melodies before slowly unwinding so the next line of notes could do the same. It was in that moment that I realized the importance of patience, of slowing down and taking things one step at a time. In doing so, I was able to turn a style of dance I’d once thought to be irrelevant into a moment of pure bliss and serenity, a moment of escape, a moment of