Life Is Not a Stage (27 page)

The questions I receive during my shows, the letters and e-mails like that little girl who wanted me to pick her up at the crossroads, are moments of grace that I cherish. I hope that in some form or another your experience in reading this book will embody some of that same feeling. I’m a flawed human being like everyone else. I’m no guru and with all certainty my name will not be on any short list for sainthood.

My spirituality has expanded rather than diminished, going beyond the Catholicism of my youth and organized religion as a whole. What has emerged is more of a living faith that encompasses the great wisdom from all faiths. I have always been accepting of other people and their differences. My belief recognizes that everyone is trying to get to that glorious heaven that we all talk about and there are many ways to get there. I still love attending the Catholic mass from time to time. Much of what that upbringing taught me is deeply cherished: about the value of daily prayer, the recognition of the holy spirit each of us carries, and the quality of grace that is ours to share with each other. I also applaud the efforts in the Catholic Church to ease some of its more restrictive policies, but there remains much work to do on that front. The right of priests and nuns to marry if they choose, for women to become priests, and for people especially in poorer and overpopulated regions to avail themselves of birth control, among other critical issues, need to be addressed in a serious way.

I have learned a few shortcuts along this journey that have helped cut through a lot of the nonsense and needless pain and suffering we often inflict on ourselves and those around us. It is why I felt it was important to dredge up the past and chronicle not only my victories, but also so many of my missteps and misfortunes along the way. As the title of this book says, life is not a stage but a series of stages we grow through and learn from. I hope the experiences I’ve shared have provided convincing proof that all the setbacks and defeats have not deterred me from the path, but continue to teach me valuable lessons and embolden me to want to learn more. I hope that sharing this story will also be a source of encouragement to inspire you to keep moving forward.

I’m still working on my goal to keep working at least until I’m ninety years old. Betty White, look out! Maybe the sequel to this book will tell you how and if I make it.

One thing that erases any doubt in my mind that I’m still up for the challenge was my decision to appear on
Dancing with the Stars
at age seventy-six. I’ve had good endurance throughout my career, but the demands of preparation, rehearsal, and performance were intense. In the end, I was pleased that I was really able to push myself a lot farther than I thought I could.

I was sensitive about patronizing attitudes about aging, so I made it a point to tell both judges and fellow contestants that I was in this competition just like the rest of them. I didn’t want anybody going, “Oh, she did great for her age.” I’d rather they judged me on whether I worked hard and did my best to look good. It also didn’t hurt that my stamina was just as good as the others’. I never had to breathe hard at the end of the numbers. After the first week, my age was never mentioned again.

Don’t ask me why, but there was something about the show that compelled me to want to do it since it began. It made me realize that I am still awfully competitive. I wanted to do well and be out in front with the rest of them as long as I could. That edge was still there just as much as when I was a kid.

I have people stop me in public or write e-mails and letters on how I’ve inspired them by being on the show. One person wrote in, “I heard you say
stand up straight and hold your stomach in
and it’s changed my life.” It went back to my old teacher’s “rrrrribs up!” advice at the academy. It had also helped that I had done Pilates training for two years with my trainer Kim Smith, so my core muscles were strong. But once you do a new dance, you find out quickly that there are lots of muscles you never knew you had.

I would have loved to have stayed in the competition longer, but it felt good that I met both the challenge and my fears about doing the show. Those fears revolved around the fact that it is a competition, and not being a real dancer, I knew that I would have to work harder. I was also wondering if I could meet the physical and mental challenges. Getting your feet to move is not as simple as being an actor learning your lines. It’s a whole different ball game. If I make a mistake in my one-woman show, I always find a way to have fun with it, but when you have a dance partner, it throws everything off. On two occasions the audience was cheering so loudly at the beginning of our number that I couldn’t hear the cue to begin the first step.

Luckily, I was blessed to have Corky Ballas as my partner. I knew he was a great teacher and had been a world champion many times. He was very patient. When I’d mess up, he’d say, “Florence
Agnes
Henderson, you know this, now come on!” That’s what I get for telling him my middle name. He sounded just like my mother.

Corky was fifty, so he worked intelligently and knew my body well after a short time. He put me through a routine depending on what movements were required in a particular dance. For the rhumba, we did deep knee bends and varied the pace on the treadmill and did sideways and backwards movements too, before the hours of actual rehearsal would begin. “Okay, that’s enough for today,” he would tell me when it was time to stop.

I never wanted to quit. “Can’t we do it one more time?”

“What’s the point if you injure yourself?”

There was also pressure because the others had three weeks to learn their routine for the first show, whereas I got started late and only had five days to prepare. It was scary to learn that dance that quickly. I care a lot about what I do. At night, I would lie awake going over the steps because it wasn’t something I do all the time. “Oh my God, I don’t know this well enough. What am I going to do?” That insecurity made me feel again how it was when I was a young kid starting out in the business. I’m always saying, “I could have done better.” I’ve always been that way, very self-critical and never satisfied with anything when it comes to my performance.

Dancing with the Stars
explains a lot about why I am still so passionate and excited about my career and why each day is such an adventure.

My formula is simple: Stay open to the unexpected. Learn to let go of your self-limiting thinking. Tomorrow, something unexpected is going to happen that is exciting. Let the experiences come. Don’t be afraid to say
yes
a lot. Be grateful and forgiving. Stay flexible. Know that there’s always another way. Keep going and never stop pushing the envelope of your potential. And stay courageous in your quest for inner peace and a life full of love.

Lastly, in case you’re wondering what happened to that galloping horse, here’s an update. The horse is alive and well. The horse still loves to run. It still enjoys being in the game, but with one important distinction. It doesn’t have to win every race.