If a year ago you’d have asked me what I thought I’d be doing during the summer, I could never have imagined saying anything other than enjoying every little bit of Met Season; my favorite time of the year. Instead, I’ve found myself in a situation I could have never predicted: in the midst of a deadly pandemic, living at a haunted farm in Virginia built in 1815.

You might figure that in a situation like this, I’d be motivated to get up each morning by the constant cycle of helping with maintaining 11 acres of grass, feeding the 14 animals that live here and helping my boyfriend deliver emu eggs. (Yes, you read that correctly.) Instead of waking up to worldly things such as those, I instead usually find myself jolting awake to the sound of ghostly footsteps (I mentioned the whole haunted thing right?) creaking across the bedroom, shooting upright only to find that it’s my boyfriend trying to quietly work his way to the bathroom. Sigh.

You get used to it. The good news is now that I’m up, I can pursue my two true loves: coffee and a shower. These are my fundamentals, my pliés and tendus of the morning. Act II of the morning is usually to go around and greet (aka feed) the members of the farm.

First stop is usually the dog, Stan. I then make my way out to the barn to say hello to the four (soon to be six!) emus, the horse and the six chickens. Once back in the house, I plop down on the sofa for a quick cool off, and if I’m lucky, Lucky will lay down with me (Lucky being the cat).

For clarity, my boyfriend’s mother owns the farm. We’ve all been in quarantine here pretty much since the start. Country living may yet be in my future, but this is just a trial run. Surprisingly, life here in rural crescent draws interesting parallels to my life in New York.

The days here similarly require a lot of dedication (11 acres is about 6 hours worth of mowing), empathy (the cat bites when she’s hungry, I totally get it) and hustle (Tractor Supply closes at 5pm these days so carpe diem, folks!).

It’s not all far-out metaphors though; many facets of my New York life have thankfully made the trip with me into this quasi-surreal reality of farm living. The feelings of familiarity I experience when getting to see my ABT family each week during meetings, classes and FaceTime calls is something I always cherish.

Simultaneously, however, there were things that couldn’t quite cross the gap. Though I take ballet classes throughout the week, I nonetheless deeply miss the magnetic and unifying energy that dance brings to a room of people.

The transformational and uplifting power of a community in motion is a quality of ABT that I hold sacred, and something I continue to behold in new ways come our unexpected shift to a virtual platform for the time being.

Like easing into a long day of rehearsals, I find the days go by smoothest when I allow myself to just live in the moment. Though I deeply miss experiencing the constant glow of my ABT family in their physical presence, I am simultaneously humbled to be sharing this experience here in the present with this family that I’ve been a part of for the past four years.

With that in mind, what fundamentally gets me up in the morning is a lot of optimism. Though I can’t forget that the potential to cuddle with the cat on the sofa is also a contributing factor; and if I’m lucky, (no pun intended) a hot cup of coffee will also somehow be involved.

Just gotta stick to the basics sometimes, you know?

With love from Virginia,
João Menegussi

João joined ABT in 2017 and is a member of the corps de ballet.