As I read the story “I Dreamed I Was a Ballerina” by Anna Pavlova to Katherine last night, I couldn’t help but think about my dream of becoming an inspirational writer–how that dream energizes me in the face of depression, and about my (sometimes feeble) attempts at using my weaknesses (a very short attention span and an affinity for CliffNotes, for starters) towards my advantage (i.e., short posts with obvious themes, not requiring interpretations).
The biography of Anna Pavlova is fascinating, and provides some good lessons for depressives (especially how she handles her weaknesses). The story of Pavlova’s dream is found in the back of the book:
“Born poor in a suburb of St. Petersburg, Russia, Anna Pavlova (1881-1931) was inspired to enter the ballet after seeing a performance of the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ at the Mariinsky Theater with her mother. At the time, the public favored athletic Italian ballerinas, so young Anna’s weak feet and scrawny body were not considered promising. However, after several years of practicing and waiting, Pavlova was finally admitted to the Imperial Ballet School.
“Upon graduation from the school, with much ingenuity and hard work, Pavlova had begun transforming her weaknesses into gifts. She modified her ballet shoes with leather and stitching to give herself greater stamina. (Today’s ballet slippers are similar to those adapted by Pavlova.) And she used her flexible body and delicate manner to give her performances an expressiveness that audiences loved.
“Eventually, Pavlova became prima ballerina at the Mariinky Theater, fulfilling her childhood dream. She toured widely throughout the world–it has been said that she journeyed 350,000 miles to 4,000 cities in fifteen years–often performing her signature piece, ‘The Dying Swan.’
“In 1931, Pavlova contracted pleurisy, an inflammation of the lungs. Doctors could have saved her life with an operation that would have left her unable to perform, but Pavlova refused to live without dancing. Her last words were reportedly, ‘Get my swan costume ready.’ The night after her death, at the theater were she was to perform ‘The Dying Swan,’ the orchestra played, the curtain opened, and a spotlight went up on an empty stage.”
What is your dream?