What Makes You So Happy?

When my oldest daughter, Elise, was four, I took her and a friend to see the ballet Copellia.  The friends' mom and I purchased new dolls to occupy the girls should they need bribes to make it through, but we didn't need them.  The girls were mesmerized.  Especially mine.  She watched every second as if it were the best Barbie movie ever (her obsession at the time).  For weeks after, she talked about dancing and ballet, she had to dance along with her Bella  Ballerina DVD at least once every day.  She staged dance classes with her little sister.  It didn't take a lot of thought when I saw a local ballet school was holding a preschool level "ballet camp" workshop the next summer.  I signed

Four year old Elise on her way to her first day
of ballet camp.

Elise up.  You should have seen her face when I bought her proper dance clothes and shoes.  Oh heavens,  I wish I had that on video because the surprise and happiness was beautiful.  She spent fourty minutes a day for the next two weeks in heaven. She had a lovely teacher, Miss Misty, who had control of the room and taught real technique, but also made it feel magical.  Elise would get the happiest look on her face when it was time to go to ballet.  She smiled through every class, made friends, fell in love with Miss Misty.  I swear I could actually hear her heart sing through the little observation window.  Miss Misty was very encouraging.  She always praised Elise's focus and "try".  She often raved to me about her dancer's feet and posture.  She told me Elise had a naturally perfect point, turn out and relevé.  Ballet camp was two weeks of happiness.  When it was time to sign up for fall classes, I didn't even consider not enrolling her.  From then on Elise had a passion.  Oh, she tried gymnastics, soccer and swimming, but nothing made her light up like ballet.

Fast forward eight years to this fall.  The poor kid had a crisis of confidence.  On the day of placements, she realized she was likely to be placed in the most advanced classes our school offers as well as pointe. Her brain started freaking out. She would now be with girls at least a year or two older than her and for the first time Miss Misty wouldn't be her teacher in any of them.  She'd have the choice to take lower classes with girls her age of course, and she liked the advanced teacher, but fear gripped her.  

As I tried to talk her down from the ledge of "I don't want to do ballet!!", I told her a story from when she was four.  We were in a store buying her second pair of ballet shoes.  Elise was not the kind of kid who threw fits or made demands but she had a full blown temper tantrum because we were buying flat shoes instead of pointe.  She didn't understand why she wasn't getting pointe shoes.  Miss Misty said she was a good dancer!  Why couldn't she have pointe shoes?!?!  She finally calmed down enough to understand she had to be older to be considered for pointe, and I laughed to myself over her angry little face.  As I told this story I wrapped it up with "Four year old you would never forgive you if you quit ballet just as you're going en pointe".  Elise laughed and the fear was broken.  She went to placements, did her best and was, indeed, placed in the advanced classes, with an hour of pointe to boot.  We had expected she would go the pointe class in flats for at least a while while she built strength, but her teacher told me to go have her fitted for pointe shoes immediately.  (Let me tell you, that was an exciting shopping trip.)

I was smart enough, this time, to have the camera ready.  

She doesn't grin broadly anymore, but she's just as happy as she was when she was four.

At this winter's recital.
Photo by Parker Grimes Photography.

At this point in the dance season, Elise is doing wonderfully.  She's never had more confidence and she says dancing still makes her smile.  Yesterday, she was cast as a mechanical ballerina doll in a local company's production of Copellia.  It's a pointe role, and the first time she'll be in more than the corps de ballet in a production.  It doesn't matter to her that it's a tiny role. She's a teenager now and isn't quite so demonstrative with her happiness, but I again wished I had videoed her face when she got the news.  She was one happy girl.

As I think about her ballet story, I think about passion and happiness.  She found something she truly loved when she was four.  I am stunned that her love has endured, after all, four is so tiny.  We change so much as we move from year to year, but the effect of dance has not lessened for her.  Last spring, at the age of six, my son had a similar experience with swimming.  He literally jumps with happiness when it's time to go to swim team.  You can't wipe the smile from his face while he's in the water.  He puts his wet suit on and glows from within. Playing baseball was a chore for him, but swimming is a reward.

My middle child hasn't found an activity she loves yet. (She LOVES cats, but I'm not sure that's the same.)  She likes writing and singing and creating.  She thought she wanted to be a singer so I put her in singing lessons.  She likes them alright but now she wants to dance or act.  She doesn't really know.  She might want to play the ukulele or piano or drums.  She doesn't know.  It's fine with me that she's trying so many things.  I identify with her lack of certainty.  Heck, I'm 41 and I don't know what I really love to do. It makes me wonder though, where does passion come from.  Is it a matter of happening across something that clicks with you? Is it a great teacher who lights a fire?  Is it finding the right thing at the right time?  Perhaps it's having the right kind of personality.

When I think about it, I realize most people do not have a true passion.  Most people have a hobby or career they enjoy, but few have something they're driven to do, something they work really hard to improve in just because they want to.  I wish for my middle one's sake that she had something that made her happy every time she did it.  It's such a joy to see my other two light up the way they do, I wish that for her.  Heck, I wish it for myself, and everyone else, too.  If we never find it though, perhaps that's okay.  Maybe some of us aren't meant to have that high.  It's not as if I'm unhappy without a passion.  I have a lot of leveled joy and peace in my life.  Maybe I'm trading the high of passion for those things.