Never in my life, have I danced more than during 2024. From the moment I arrived for the first time at the Civic Hall in Totnes for a 5Rhythms evening, to the most recent tango dance in South Brent, I’ve been fulfilling this deep longing to connect through dance. As I previously said, dancing has been my gateway to new communities.
However, even though this town has been fertile ground for me to learn and move my body with joy and abandon, I have also experienced moments when I said no to that, when didn’t allow myself to be that alive.
Last ocassion was Susie Ro’s concert in Totnes.
The church was packed, and we were all in a circle, with an ocean of cushions and people sitting on the floor, some on chairs, some standing, all looking to a stage illuminated with hues of purple and blue. Susie’s concert had this dreamy texture that made one feel at home.
From my spot, I had a clear view of all the musicians, but I suspected from the let-go that my body would ache from sitting too long on the floor.
And it did.
The first hour was delicious. I greeted familiar faces, rejoiced in a space that felt my kind, and music gradually filled my soul.
However, the discomfort grew and I soon felt the impulse to stand up and join the ones dancing at the back. My body wanted the dance, and I am still discerning why I stayed seated for another hour.
Last month during a tango party in Berlin, I had way more reasons in my head for not standing up and dancing. That milonga was full of skilful tangueros and strangers. My limited tango repertoire and personal introversion helped to justify stillness.
Not inviting anybody to the dance floor felt ultimately safe. Staying seated was, I suspect, a way of protecting myself from rejection or being seen as not-so-good.
Part of me wanted to go for it, but fear won the night for the duration of that party.
I live in the countryside and have a patio that overlooks a river. It is a stage filled with all kinds of flying friends, ducks singing in perfect formation in the air, seagulls, pigeons, and other birds painting the grey skies of winter. An occasional cat passes by and one or two squirrels play up and down the trees. Everybody flows together in a dance of life happening before my eyes. And then, too many times, I remain seated inside, looking at a screen in my hand, or watching yet another movie, even when my body aches and longs for a dance.
The discomfort at the concert, the unease in the milonga in Berlin, and the angst on my sofa have similar qualities. My body cries for the excitement of movement, but another narrative rules the show: being an audience is comfortable; no moving is riskless. A little voice, though, keeps whispering at some level, a voice I try to numb: You are missing out.
Susie Ro started singing this song.
No more holding on
Now I can flow like a river
No more holding on
Let go, surrender and flow
I know that flow, as I have been there. And it’s exquisite.
It is a good aspiration to be immense, jump into the river, and get up and dance. As the end of the year approaches, I’m getting this reminder and setting an intention of letting go of doubts that keep me small when they arise.
It is “surrender and flow”, more than a sentiment, a thought or willpower.
My friend Natalie put it nicely the last time we danced in a tango practica: “You might be taking it too seriously,” she said, “you could loosen up a bit.” That was my last tanda of the year and perhaps the most fun I ever had in a tango scene.
Stay attuned
Jesus Acosta
Caressing the Earth
“And to the floor beneath. I caress the earth. I massage with my foot every inch of floor space that I traverse. I know exactly where I am and how I got there.”
My friend Aydan Dunnigan’s latest entry post is a call to go and walk and dare to do it beyond the paved pathways.
No more holding on
This Susie Ro’s song is a good template for my New Year’s intentions.
Four tips
I’m adding this video from Pablo & Anne mostly to remind myself of four good tips to improve my posture and mindset on the dance floor.
