Log Entry-June 4: The Big Day
It is four in the morning. I'm up and ready to go. Today is the day of the big Dancing with the Stars of Boston competition, the final step of the journey. Strange things happen when you change your goals.
As long as my goal was to 'surprise' people with my dancing performance, my attitude and effort reflected that: I tried very, very, very hard to learn, and was normally diligent in my preparations. Extra work and maximum effort came easy to me.
As soon as my goal shifted to the 'take your breath away' objective, my whole world changed.
- Just like my Dad, I realized I can be 'Mack the Knife.'
- Just like my Mom, I realized I have a dancing gene or two.
- Just like my sister Joanne, I realized that I can try something totally new and make it happen.
- Just like my son Joe, I realized I don't give up.
- Just like my wife, I realized I can smile and light up a room (Note: my smile can only partially light up a very small room or a large closet, Her smile can light up a ballroom.)
At the same time, I realized how talented my professional partner, Carol, was and how patient she had been with me, and how much I depended on her. I realized that my routine, was really 'our' routine-based on our collective abilities: not just hers and not just mine. I realized that the routine is really good or 'cute' as the other dancers say: it is a good song with good choreography.
I recognized that as a professional, Carol has more at stake than I do, and so does the Arthur Murray Studio in Natick. I realized that it was the journey, not the event, that I have been writing about, because it is the journey that is most important and interesting.
It isn’t the four weeks and 23 forty-five-minute lessons, sprinkled with a few high fives, but many more "breathe," and "keep your eyes up," and "put some personality into it" comments that I will miss. When I look back, I realize that I will miss being with a very wise person and a special person who was able to handle this quest with me. (Think about it: would you want to teach ME to dance?)
And, for forty-five minutes at a time, her sole focus and sole objective was to help me do better. I hope that someday, I am the kind of leader who helps the people who work with me with the same focus and effort to serve that she had with me.
The pride on her face at my happiness when I finally hit all the steps in the final rehearsal was obvious (there may have been some relief in there, too).
Recently I re-read some of the quotes people sent to me when I polled the audience on whether I should volunteer for this event. The responses mostly fell into two categories: some felt it would be funny to see the finished version, but even those who didn't think it was a good idea, including several family members, never doubted whether I could do it, and I guess, deep down inside, I stopped doubting it too.
Each of the people giving a response had an opinion. My professional dance partner had no choice: and no opinion in the matter: I showed up with two left feet, she started working with me, and moved me to the point where OUR goal reached "to take your breath away." I'm not sure who is more amazed that I can do this routine: Carol or me.
As I said yesterday to the entire staff at the dance studio, who turned out for my final 'dress rehearsal,' when I walked out the studio for the last time: "the miracle has already happened. I'm a dancer."
It doesn’t matter to me what happens tonight, I know we'll do a good job. We've already impressed ourselves. Thank you Arthur Murray Natick. Thank you Carol. Your professionalism, your welcoming, your support, your patience, your encouragement took MY breath away.
I'm not sure who created that 'take your breath away' quote hanging on the men's room wall that I've latched onto. What I do know is that I'm not afraid anymore. It has been a short journey, and a totally unexpected one. I've come a long way from that scared little boy buying male ballroom dancing shoes with a preferred customer card in that little shop in Wellesley.
I could tell I had changed by the look in the eyes of those observers at the Studio yesterday for my last visit. I could tell that by Carol's eyes when we finished rehearsals. I could tell that by the look in my eyes in the mirror this morning.
