I am trying something new. Well, new for my blog, anyway. I have done this a multitude of times during my English major schooling; a one word prompt meant to inspire and invoke ideas in the face of a writing slump. For therapeutic sake, I will proceed.

The one word given for the writing prompt leapt off the page at me and compelled me to speak to it; MAYBE. So many things in life are a maybe. Let’s concentrate on the flamenco maybe’s.

Maybe…I will be able to sleep tonight instead of running choreography and por fiestas in my head.

Maybe…I will find a way to pay for this Spain trip that is circled in big red marker on my calendar.

Maybe…I will realize once I get to Spain, that I am really so very far behind the skill level of everyone else, I cannot keep up.

Maybe…I will be good enough at our next performance. Just good enough. That’s all.

Maybe…I will not disappoint my teachers.

Maybe…I will never master the castanets despite my daily attempts.

Maybe…I will never discover how to release the aire inside of me.

Maybe…and this is the scariest of them all…maybe flamenco will one day no longer be fun for me.

Even as I write this, my inner She-Woman is flicking my ear in disdain, from her perch on my shoulder. Unfortunately, the Doubting Thomas on the other shoulder is smiling and winning. At least, for today.

But, in the spirit of what this blog is intended-to document ALL my flamenco feelings in an honest way- I cannot whitewash the fact that days like this happen. Not all my tales are funny and lighthearted. Sometimes, like today, they are filled with doubt and panic.

Maybe, this has nothing to do with flamenco at all.






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