Why I didn't need religion

This post is long over due. What I am about to write about is the only important thing I have to explain about who I am. I didn't worry about religion a lot of the time in high school because the truth is, I didn't need it. And I didn't plan to ever need it. I had something better: dance.

I am not talking about dance in your living room when you're bored (or drunk). I am talking about fifteen years of classical dance: ballet, jazz, lyrical, and tap. To put it simply, dance was my life. Everything else came second to dance. I missed out on a lot of stuff with friends and school, but it was worth it. The motto of every serious dancer's life is "... I can't, I have dance" because everything conflicts with dance.

Through dance I learned discipline, diversity among people, and unity among people. I learned how to feel through dance. I learned how to live through dance. And I learned how to love through dance. I am who I am because of dance. It is incredibly simple, yet incredibly complicated. It is painful to write this post in the past tense. Every fiber of my being loves to dance and it's so difficult to explain why. I was never going to an amazing ballerina or a badass tap dancer in those shows in little jazz joints and side bars. I was never going to change the world with my dancing. But I still did it for 15 years thinking that I could do those things. I lived my life on the premise that dance would take me everywhere and anywhere I was supposed to go.

Why does any of this matter? Because if I were at a small liberal arts school majoring in dance, I wouldn't be writing this post. I wouldn't be writing this blog. And I wouldn't be half-way to Jewish right now. Is that a good thing? I don't know. I don't know if stopping dance with high school graduation was the best thing or the worst thing I ever did. I just know I did it, and it's too late to change that.

Every week, when I would walk in to ballet class, hair in a tight bun and wearing a black leo and pink tights , place my left hand on the barre, and slide my feet into first position, the whole world would fall away. I could just exist in that moment for ever. There were no fights with friends or parents, no politics, no war, just me, the music, and my ballet teacher screaming in the background. It was heaven on earth. True peace. To this day, if I am having a stressful day and can't focus or fall asleep, I close my eyes and go back there. I go back to the barre and hear the piano music. My heart slows and my head empties and I can be whole again. I can be me in the world and not stress about any of it. Becoming one with the barre and with the music is the only thing that could ever give me such peace and contentment.

So of course I didn't need religion. Why would I go to church to find G-d when He was obviously in the dance studio? Why sing a meaningless hymn when I can dance to a powerful song? Basking in the lime lights of the stage during a performance was easily better than having holy water splashed in my face when I sat too close to the isle.

Countless factors led me to this giant state school rather than the tiny liberal arts college I had planned on since junior high school. I don't know if it was the wrong choice. My life right now is awesome. I love so much of what I do and I would never have had the opportunity to do these things if I'd gone to the baby arts school. But it's hard to find peace sometimes. And it's hard to imagine how I can raise my children effectively without dance. I had never really thought that plan through, anyways. I mean, was I really going to count on a little boy falling in love with dance? Yes, it's a little sexist and gender stereotype-y, but it's a reality of our society. What would have happened when something broke my daughter's heart and pulled her away from dance? That's what happened to me. Then she would have no outlet to connect to G-d. And could I even have taught her about G-d without some religion as the framework?

Am I using Judaism to fill a void? Perhaps. I don't think it's a bad thing. I get some of the same feelings from Judaism that I got from dance. Judaism and dance have things in common for me, but maybe not for other people. After a couple of weeks at Hillel and me getting this one feeling of comfort over and over, I figured out what it was. There's this vibe at Hillel and among Jews. It's hard to explain. But it's the same vibe I felt at the dance studio with my dance girls for fifteen years. It's the same vibe I felt talking to other dancers at competitions who I'd never met. So many of those dancers I knew I wouldn't meet again, but I felt terribly connected to them. I knew their pain, their anguish and they knew mine. We knew each other's joy and our place in the world. This is a vibe I still get when I meet someone at school who grew up in a dance studio and when I hang out with my dance girls from home. I know it will never go away, no matter how long it's been since I last danced. We will always have something to connect us. It's something larger than ourselves and it's something other people just don't get.

This is how every one describes Judaism. Maybe I pick up on it because I've felt it in my life. I perceive this tribe vibe from Jews because I am from a tribe of dancers. Or maybe I pick up on it because I belong to this tribe. Maybe G-d's given me a second chance. Maybe Jews are my second tribe. Or maybe I've found the home I've been looking for my whole life. There is only one way to find out...