I don’t like fear. So, I press into it. And one of its last strongholds in my life is dancing. The awkward kind that causes onlookers to inwardly cringe.
So what to do? Go big or go home. Registering for two dance classes at the same time would only double the fun. I took the plunge.
Class number one was my first senior citizen enrollment ever-- a 55+ Golden Girls dancing class. It included twirling umbrellas and It’s Raining Men. I had not found my soulmate.
A deeper dive was needed. The high dive of my dancing archnemesis-- belly dancing. But after attempting its physics-defying gyrations for two l-o-n-g classes, I retreated with my tail between my legs. Dancing liberation was still elusively beyond my reach.
Until Contra dancing.
This exhilarating social folk dance has been an unexpectedly profound and delightful mentor. As I belly laugh through the dizzy missteps that come with learning this new language of body movements, Contra dancing continues to teach me that:
…failure can actually be fun;
…just beyond the comfort zone of my tribe lies a whole new world of diverse and stretching relationships;
…the joy of play can elevate me above the fray of my problems, reframing my view.
The words to Lee Ann Womack’s song, I Hope You Dance, reverberate in my newfound dancer’s soul, inspiring me forward toward getting liberated from fear.
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance, Never settle for the path of least resistance, Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin', Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin’…
... I hope you dance.
Comments