Tools of the Trade

Tools of the trade.
My feet are my tools.
Like a baker uses his hands to form loafs.
Like a farmer uses a scythe to cut the crop.
Like a musician uses her guitar to strum out melodies.
Like a chef uses his knives to sever vegetables.
Like a mechanic uses a wrench to tighten tires.
Like an opera singer uses her voice to make the audience cry.
Like a cowboy uses his rope and saddle out on the range.
Like a healer uses her hands.
Like a carpenter uses a hammer to build houses.

Dirty. Dusty. Sticky. Greasy.

Rusty. Worn. Tired.

Nicked. Dented. Used.

My feet are the tools of my trade.
A dancer uses her feet to fly through the air.

Take care of your tools.
But know that they are tools to be used.

I am proud of my dancer’s feet, because without the scars and bruises and tired muscles, I would not be able to accomplish what my heart desires.

If you buy seeds, and never plant them, you will never grow a garden.
If you have a pan and never write, you will never publish that novel.
If you own a plane and never fly it, you will never get anywhere.

Use the tools you are given.
Put them to good use.
Take care of them and love them for doing their job.

I love my tools, and without them, I couldn’t do the things I do.
My feet are my paintbrushes on the canvas of the dance floor.
I paint a picture as I dance with colors of movement and energy, I explode.