Me, My Dad, and Margot Fonteyn

When I was around 14, I mostly just wanted to read. Every week I went to the library and checked out 10 or 15 books, and then I read them every moment I could. Oh, I went to school and did well in my classes, and I had friends, but all I really wanted to do was read. And exercise was not my fri

end. Once for PE we had to do a 600 yard (yes, that is yards) run/walk, and I was so uncoordinated I fell and dislocated my knee.

Then one day my dad told me I was going to take a dance class. There was no discussion. My dad, a busy business executive, had just decided. When my dad decided something--that was that.

So on a Saturday morning I found myself in Dad’s car, sitting in some lady’s driveway, sobbing my eyes out. “I don’t WANT to take a dance class!” I wailed, “I can’t do this! Don’t make me!” Dad just waited for my crying to subside, handed me my bag filled with new tap shoes and ballet shoes, and nudged me out the door.

Miss Audrey’s school of ballet and tap was in her basement. We did ballet at the barre, tap in the middle of the floor, and something called rhythmic gymnastics using hula hoops and big rubber balls. I hated it. I could hardly do a plie, and my shuffle-hop-ball-change was more of a shuffle-shuffle-trip-stumble. I never did quite get the hang of what we did with the hula hoops. I complained and cried every week. And every week my dad drove me to Miss Audrey’s and left me there.

Dad must have got to thinking again, because next thing I knew he arranged for Mom to take me to downtown Minneapolis to see a new film: the ballet Romeo and Juliet featuring Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev. I don’t know if I realized what he was up to, but I liked Shakespeare. No tears were involved in this outing.

I walked into the theater, a big old fashioned one with gilt cherubs and crystal chandeliers, feeling a little thrill of curiosity. But I floated out. In my heart I was dancing as Fonteyn did, dancing with Nureyev. I was hooked.

Soon I was getting up early to practice plies holding onto the back of the wing chair and begging my parents to send me to the real ballet school in town. At the Andahazy School of Ballet, my enthusiasm grew, and when I left Minnesota to attend Brigham Young University, the first class I registered for was ballet. In college I divided my time between English literature and ballet, taking English classes in the morning and dance in the afternoon.

I never became Margot Fonteyn, but dance became my joy. I also learned that I could do hard things. I learned discipline, diligence, perseverance, and how to work as a team. I learned the delight of being physically fit.

And all because my dad forced me into Miss Audrey’s school of dance.

Sometimes what is best for us doesn’t seem so at first. Sometimes we need to just keep going, until we become converted. Then we can continue, not because we know it is good for us, but because we love it.

“Hard can be good. Christ invites us to do many hard things because He knows we will be blessed as a result of our efforts.” (Devin G. Durrant, First Counselor in the Sunday School General Presidency,“My Heart Pondereth Them Continually,” October 2015LDS Conference)

 “Let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power” (D&C 123:17).

What Lack I Yet?

I really like to make goals. I make daily checklists, and weekly challenges. I have a vision board. I love New Year's Resolutions. 

So in October 2015, while I was listening to LDS General Conference on Saturday afternoon, I was struck by a couple of talks about becoming better. First, Sister Neill F Marriott discussed “Yielding Our Hearts to God”:

I have found that after I pray for forgiveness of sins, it is instructive for me to ask Heavenly Father, “Father, is there more?” When we are yielded and still, our minds can be directed to something more we may need to change—something that is limiting our capacity to receive spiritual guidance or even healing and help.

Then, directly following Sister Marriott, Elder Larry Lawrence spoke on “What Lack IYet?”

However, we need to ask the Lord for directions along the way. We have to ask some difficult questions, like “What do I need to change?” “How can I improve?” “What weakness needs strengthening?”

Aha! I felt like something very important had fallen into place. I didn’t need to think of goals on my own. I need to ask God, and then I need to follow His direction.

So a couple of days later, I decided to kneel and ask for that direction. Like the rich young man Matthew writes of, I wanted to ask, “What lack I yet?” Accordingly, I knelt down that morning with the intent to take whatever direction I received. As I thought of what I needed to improve, I thought of scripture study, service to others, housework—so many things I could be more diligent about. But, instead, almost immediately as I asked my question, these words came into my mind, as clear as anything, as though someone were speaking to me: “Lighten up!”

Lighten up. I knew it was revelation, for it was not what I would tell myself. I stood up in surprise, and ever since then I have been thinking of what that means. What does it mean to “Lighten up.”

For one thing, it means to relax, chill out. Don’t be so hard on yourself. What a great message from a loving Heavenly Father. I think it means that life is not a list to be checked off. It means to see others with love and gratitude. It means to see myself that same way. It means God sees me with love and gratitude. 

It means I let go of worry and accept faith.  

It means life is filled with light.

This is harder, in some ways, than a checklist, but so much better and so much happier. Now I just want to learn how to "lighten up."

I have an uncontrollable urge to write a list.

And by the way, this is my revelation. Who knows what the Lord might tell you?

"Hitherto have ye asked nothing in my name: ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full." John 16:24

Jump Up, Nadia

So you know how it goes when you have all these great plans for doing and being good and then you go and mess up?

I did that the other day. I got angry. I said things I shouldn’t have said. I feel really bad about it.

So today I am writing a pep talk about making mistakes and getting up and trying again.

When my first child was learning to walk, we were watching the 1976 summer Olympics. We especially enjoyed a wonderful Romanian gymnast, 14-year-old Nadia  Comăneci, who earned 3 gold medals that year with scores of perfect 10s. But as I recall, in one of her routines, Comaneci fell off the balance beam. The crowd let out a collective “oooooh” of disappointment and sympathy for her. But that girl did not pause a moment before jumping right back on the beam and completing a beautiful routine.

After watching that display of courage, every time Anna in her efforts to walk would thump down on her diaper, we would reach out to help her up and say encouragingly, “Jump up, Nadia!”

Falling didn’t matter. Jumping up and trying again did.

That’s the way Heavenly Father sees us too. We are only toddlers spiritually. Of course we fall down. Of course we make mistakes. Of course we lose our tempers, act selfishly, forget our good intentions. Heavenly Father expects it.

But what matters is that we don’t stay down. What matters is that we reach out to God’s outstretched arms and take His hand to help us up. What matters is that we say we are sorry, learn from our fall, try to make amends, and rely on God to help us do better next time.

It doesn’t matter how many times we fall, if we, like Nadia, jump up and try again.

For godly sorrow worketh repentance to salvation . . .: but the sorrow of the world worketh death.

2 Corinthians 7:10 

Coaching

Three times a week I go to a gym for old ladies. We all feel better not having to compare our saggy arms and flabby middles with the young, toned, and athletic. We come in polyester pants and old family reunion t-shirts. We gamely move from machine to machine, pulling, lifting, pushing, stretching, working each muscle group in 30-second segments. Between each machine workout, we follow the instructions of a TV lady for additional exercise. For 30 seconds at a time we do our best at jumping jacks, push-ups, windmills, sumo squats, crunches. We “punch it out.”

What I love about these TV ladies is their unfailing encouragement. They say, “You can do this!” “Just give it a try.” “You don’t have to be perfect, perfect is boring.” “I know this is hard. Even if you think you can’t do it, just try one or two reps at the hard level.” “I’m so proud of you for showing up. You are here, you are trying, and that is the main thing.” “Your body will thank you for doing this.” “There is no change without challenge.”

I try hard for those nice ladies in spandex. And sometimes when I’m home I hear their voices in my ear. When I think, “I’m too tired to do those dishes” I hear them say, “You can do this!” When I want to yell at someone, I hear, “I know this is hard, but give calmness a try.” When I mess up and hurt someone with my words, I hear, “you don’t have to be perfect, just keep trying.”

I like to think that this is what the Savior is saying to me. “Good job! Keep trying! You can do this!” When I pray, study the scriptures, remember to be kind, He says, “Way to go! I knew you could do it.” When I make mistakes, He says, “You’ll do better next time.” When I face a seemingly insurmountable problem, He says, “I know this is hard.” He says, “There is no change without challenge. You will be a better person for having been through this. I’ll help you.”

As Christians, this is what we do. We show up every day, not ashamed of where we are but trying to become better. We know our coach and Redeemer is there to help us along. We do the things we know will strengthen us and we face the hard stuff with faith He will help us through. It’s hard, but we expect that. We keep trying. As we exercise our faith and goodness, we learn and grow and become more like what our Savior wants us to be.

In this blog, I will explore that exercise, the exercise of learning to become a better person, line upon line, through the grace of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

For he will give unto the faithful line upon line, precept upon precept; and I will try you and prove you herewith. (Doctrine and Covenants 98:12)