I AM A DANCER

 
I am a dancer.  However, not in the way that you think.  As a matter of fact, not in the way that anyone would think when they hear someone say, “I’m a dancer”.  Most would interpret my confession to mean that I can dance.  However, that is NOT what I said.  What I said is that I “am” a dancer.   I would insist that there is a very large ballroom of difference between “am” and “can”.   Yet, with that difference clearly established, I will admit that I am a dancer.

How does one know this?  Well, it is not easy; but neither is it difficult.  It is not easy because it takes a bit of awkward personal awareness to recognize it.  This is the type of personal awareness that most of us work to avoid.  It is the type of awareness that can be a bit disconcerting.  It can be as if we are on the outside looking in… at a stranger.  And then we are shocked to discover that the person we are looking at is ourselves.   

It is not difficult; at least not in the “I think I’ll climb Mt. Everest” sort of way.  The only difficulty we have to overcome is ourselves.  We only have to be vulnerable to our true self.  The only requirement is honesty.  It is like the person who loves to sing… in the shower.  Stop and think about that for a few moments.  Singing… IN THE SHOWER!!!

Singers sing.  That’s what they do.  Singers can’t NOT sing.  (I realize the double negative, but you understand the point.)   But singing in the shower…  That means that they are exposed twice!  They are both singing and naked… at the same time.  Take a moment and grasp the significance of this.  Now transfer this significance to dancing.

One can be a dancer and have never had a formal lesson.  It is probably a fact that most dancers have never stepped into a dance studio.  One can be dancer and not know the difference between an East Coast Swing and a Viennese Waltz.  But that lack of knowledge doesn’t matter.. Dancers dance.  That’s what they do.  Their toes tap.  Their feet move.  They sway.  Sitting at their desk at work, they feel their shoulders move… almost imperceptibly.  A co-worker sitting 6 ft. away wouldn’t even notice.  But the dancer can feel it. 

Dancers experience rhythm in a thousand ways every day.  Dancers hear music everywhere. Truth be told, dancers don't even need music.  It helps, but it is not required.  A dancer could be surrounded with complete silence and yet still hear dance in their head.  Most dancers, I suppose, love music.  But... they don't just love it.  Dancers move.  Dancers dance.  One can love music, but not be a dancer.  Dancers cannot sit still.  Dancers cannot stand still.

If a dancer is lucky enough to have even an ounce of Latin blood in their veins, their hips will move… don’t ask me how they do it.  In ways that it takes the rest of us years of concentrated effort and practice, Latin dancers just dance it.  Sometimes… the world is not fair.

However… and this is the point I would like to make: I feel that it is my obligation to warn all dancers…  Dancers everywhere LISTEN TO ME…. Know that the moment you take your first dance lesson… the moment you give your hard earned money to an Instructor… LISTEN TO ME… I’m begging you…  I must forewarn you.  You will have crossed a threshold and there is no going back.  You will not only have embraced your inner dancer, you will have made the decision to expose yourself to the public.  You will have stepped out of the shower.  And though (hopefully) you show up at the studio with your clothes on, you will nonetheless feel very naked.  But it will no longer matter…

You will be hooked.  Dance will be your drug of choice… and you will not be able to live without satisfying your addiction.  “Hi.  My name is K.C. (you can feel free to insert your name here), and I am a dancer.”  Your “I am” will be the first step to becoming an “I can”, and your need to dance will never be less than what it is at this moment ever again.

The truth is that “what we are” is “what we are” when we think no one else is watching.  The greatest personal victories come when we are able and willing to be “what we are” in public.  

The first step will be in a dance studio. This is the place where it will be easiest.  You will try and fail over and over again… and no one will think you the lesser for it.  The dance studio is where dancers go to quench their thirst.  

But.. there is nothing quite like when you take your first “slow, slow, quick, quick” on a public dance floor in front of non-dancers, or perhaps shower-dancers.  And I’m not talking about a dance party at your local studio.  Oh, no…  I’m talking about a small patch of hardwood found in a public venue.  If the only public place you dance is your local dance studio, then you are a still a pretender.  However, if you have ever danced in a true public sense, you understand... you know the freedom.   But even more than that…

On a recent cruise, Joni and I were approached by total strangers as we strolled the cobblestone streets of some nameless-you’ve-seen-one-you’ve-seen-them-all Caribbean port city, and they said stuff like, “You are the two that I saw dancing last night on the ship.  You were great… We really enjoyed watching you.”   I’m here to tell you… that kind of unsolicited affirmation will be your highest reward; perhaps more so than the “well done” from your instructor, although that means a lot as well.  The personal courage to be “who you are” in front of others, joined with the knowledge that “who you are” brought joy to someone else…  Friend, there is nothing else in all of life quite like the feeling that will bring.

THE FOXTROT

There are reasons to like the Foxtrot; I suppose several.  The graceful movements.  The ease with which one can learn some very basic footwork for the dance.  I would think novice dancers should very much enjoy the Foxtrot.  The historic popularity of the Foxtrot here in America would be yet another reason to appreciate it.  All of these, and many more, are reasons to like this great dance.

However, I have come to understand that I do not just like the Foxtrot; I love it.  The reason?  The answer is, quite simply, the music.  I have a very diverse musical palate.   I find myself gravitating from one style to another in a “whatever mood I happen to be in” sort of way.   My appreciation of various styles wax and wane.  I can like the Southern Rock style of ZZ Top one week, and the dramatic scope of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s “Rhrapsody on a Theme of Paganini” the next.  Southern Gospel music moves me in a way that can be very deeply spiritual, but, I know of no other music that gets inside of me in the same way that Foxtrot music does.   I listen to other styles, but what I do with Foxtrot music cannot best be described as listening.

It is not the rhythm?  There are other rhythms that are more intoxicating than the Foxtrot.   Salsa comes to mind.  Maybe even Tango rhythms.  It is not the lyrics, although Foxtrot songs arguably features some great lines.

No… I think that, for me, the thing that Foxtrot music has that no other dance features is a fluidity.  It is an effortless fluidity of motion that I feel… really.  Swirling around inside of me all the time is a Foxtrot just waiting for an opportunity… looking for a patch of hardwood.  I can already hear those who are much more experienced than am I saying, “The Waltz! What about the Waltz?”  I’ve already, in a previous post, addressed my thoughts about the Waltz.  It is true that opinions are like armpits; everyone has a couple… and some of them stink.  But… in my opinion, the Waltz cannot compete with the superiority of the Foxtrot.

I have never experienced what it is to be blind, so I can’t know for certain, but I would think that a blind man could dance the Foxtrot even if he found other dances difficult or even impossible.  And I don’t mean that he may simply dance the dance, but rather, love dancing it.  You don’t have to see, you just have to be able to move… to flow.

The Foxtrot is a sway… a glide… it is as if I am an airplane that is flying effortlessly from one cloud to the next, yet I have never left the ground.  However… I don’t fly alone.  I don’t dance alone.  It is not a lone ballerina’s adagio.  The Foxtrot is a couple’s dance.  It is not one, but two airplanes locked in an aerial embrace.  Matching turn for turn, power for power, hesitation for hesitation.  Those that are afraid to fly should not dance the Foxtrot.

I find it easier to lead the Foxtrot than the rest.  I don’t find myself having to “think” about it as much.  Other dances are like a game of chess; I’m always planning several moves ahead… strategizing.  I don’t feel like that with the Foxtrot.   The decision making required for leading seems much less stressful.  I’m not mentally dancing so far ahead.

Finally, I don’t even realize that I’m breathing until I’m finished and only then am I aware that I am out of breath.  While I’m dancing the Foxtrot, the dance itself is my air.  I cannot help but smile when I dance the Foxtrot.  It is not exactly happiness that I feel… it is not joy… it is… freedom.  It is no restraints.  

There are many reasons to enjoy the Foxtrot, but for me, the connection that the intrinsic musicality of a good Foxtrot song makes with some natural, inherent place within me is my greatest reason of all.