In One Breath

she tells me i was both the choosen one and a failure. She's tell me the performance was acceptable and awful. She tells me i am uniquely talented and have lost my beauty. We plan together for a collective vision, while she mercilessly needles me about my faults. In one breath she tells me i can work hard, do well, probably won't succeed, and could be world-class.

The Guru pats you on the back with one hand while slapping you across the face with the other.

It's crazymaking.

It's who she is.

Like many things, if you want to last, you must simply learn to adapt. To dance under her you must accept her for who she is while simultaneously trying to salvage your tattered feelings and hold-on to any remnants of pride. She has no idea of the wearisome wake of havoc she spreads behind her, leaving heavyhearted students and victims of misinformed dreams. Out of hundreds there are but a handful of us left. To dance under her you must learn to forgive. It is not only an exercise in becoming a dancer, but also a better, stronger more loving person.