Entry 13 - Use It Or Lose It
- Emma Gill

- Jan 7
- 3 min read

New Year’s Eve is always a strange time of year, isn’t it? You can’t help becoming reflective it's almost unavoidable. Suddenly all the things we haven't done sit right at the front of our minds, while social media fills with resolutions, intentions and more inspirational quotes than a Hallmark factory.
But this year felt a little different for me.
As I creep (reluctantly) further into my 40s, I’m very aware that there are still a million things I want to do (those of you who know me will know I’m rarely without at least ten projects on the go). Yet I’m becoming ever more aware of the things I could once do — and yet I’m not entirely sure I can do anymore.
For instance, I’m an accomplished musician. As a teenager I played multiple instruments to a fairly high standard. Now? I’m not sure I could pick up even one of them and play. And don’t get me started on physical things like climbing, skipping and jumping — where did they go? Have you tried to jump as an adult? It’s almost impossible to do in the way you did as a child, and I don’t remember ever getting the memo about its expiry date!
Of course, my brain immediately applies thoughts like this to dance and to my students. We use quotes like “practice makes progress” and “repetition is key” — and we know they’re true. Nobody gets good at anything without putting in the work.
But what I hadn’t really considered is that it isn’t only about getting better. It’s also about using what we’ve learned and actually enjoying it.
Like my students, I practice and train as often as I can because I want to improve my dancing. But I’ve also now been dancing for well over 35 years. I can't possibly remember all I've ever known and that scares me. I don’t want to wake up one day and realise I’ve forgotten things I worked so hard to learn.
This “slipping through my fingers” feeling was quite a revelation. And it reminded me that it doesn’t just apply to dance.
It applies to possessions too. I have such a habit of putting pretty, meaningful things away in drawers “for protection” — only to take them out once in a blue moon, look at them briefly… and then hide them again. Where’s the joy in that? And I suppose that's what we do when we don't dance in public or when we hold back in a lesson because we are scared of looking silly.
If anything, I want 2026 to be the year I actually use things — not squirrel them away for some rainy day that may or may not come.
Things should make us happy. Isn’t that the end goal? We learn things, buy things and keep things because they bring us joy. For me, this year, I want to make sure dance is firmly back in that category. With medals and grades looming, it’s easy to forget that we started dancing to express ourselves, to release stress, to laugh, to move — and simply because we WANTED to.
So why should dance be wrapped up and saved only for a medal, an exam, or even just for lessons? Those occasions are wonderful, and they help us grow — but they’re not the reason most of us fell in love with dancing in the first place.
As we step boldly into 2026, let’s make it the year we truly use our dancing — whether that’s performing, enjoying a social night, dancing with us at one of our upcoming Blackpool Tower afternoons, or simply taking a few basic steps around the floor to a favourite piece of music.
Dance is a gift. I don’t want to lose it.
...Just as long as I don’t have to jump! 🤣




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