This two week break from the ballet is proving to be one full of productivity. I now have a living room where soon due to the lack of furniture, I will be able to offer ballet lessons. I've completed and sent off my taxes to the accountant. I've been diligently hitting the gym, and I will begin to compile my dance reel in the next couple of days.
In the midst of all of this productivity, I feel alone and a bit over my head. I know I am not. I still have my friends, but many of them are out of town at the moment. When I walked into my apartment tonight, there was no couch since I had sold it a few hours prior, and I had a wave of loneliness sweep over me. It is strange to think of how our memories can become intwined with the things we own. I could remember the many parties that have been thrown here. I could remember the heavy conversations I've had with my close friends sitting on the sofa laughing and crying-whichever the moment demanded.
As I retire, I am realizing that there are more things than just the ballet that are evaporating. I am retiring from an entire lifestyle here in Kansas City, and while I'm excited about the chance of a new life, I realize how rich the one I have created here has been.