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  • Maya is a mother, a commercial lawyer and she works part-time as my colleague in a dance hall. She started taking dance classes when she was three and thorough the years she swayed into ballet, modern and contemporary. Now she's a spectator for the shows that take place on the scene.

    It is not a trace of regret what I see in her eyes when she tells me that she announced fiercely at the age of 5 she was going to be a dancer. Sure, there was no place for this kind of path in her crippled-by-her-parents-expectations life. "You are to become a successful lawyer", she was told, with the emphasis on "success".

    She does not long to be one of them but the question lingers on her mind. Just as her parents desired, Maya became a successful lawyer and at the age of 25 she decided to have a baby. It was the time, she says. As many of us put it quite preposterously, you either are born a dancer or you're not. On Saturdays, Maya incorporates the dancer she no longer is in bars, she dances for strangers, she dances her soul to exhaustion on those nights when her kid is home with the nanny.

    Yesterday, I read about it in Brecht's novel. All the other days I live it and see it on every human being I meet, the fear of living to the full potential of our dreams and the fear of not being right. As if the "right" was defined by a homogeneous social-pressurized ambient.
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