A Letter from 1998

This is a story of one student. And I've heard a similiar verison from many others. Details might differ but jumping into an activity that's foreign isn't different. We all are on different paths but the paths have common elements.

Dancing

 

Around the August when I turned fifty, I began to ponder all the things in life that I had decided I couldn’t do.  I had lists in my head of activities I felt I had no talent for:  drawing, painting, dancing, singing, and more. A cold feeling came over me, as if someone had touched my spine with an ice cube.  Suppose I die and have all these closed doors in my life – doors labeled Art, Dance, Music - doors I shut when I was around 10 or 12 and kept shut for 40 years.  I could picture my funeral and could see all the unexplored parts of me would die with me and no one would know my other talents.

 

Last year I shared my job with another teacher. I gave myself the gift of time, time to explore the undiscovered me.  I  had time for solitude and long walks and listening to the sound of own inner voice. 

 

In September I began taking a watercolor class every Thursday afternoon.  I show up for watercolor class every week, full of hope, lugging a bag full of tubes of Alizarin Crimson, Prussian Blue, New Gamboge, as well a different sizes of brushes and pads of watercolor paper.  I try not to listen to my inner critic and just play with paint.

 

After art, dance was next on my list.  “Rodger, there’s a swing dance class starting August 3rd and I want to take it.  Do you want to come?”  Rodger looked up from the newspaper and his face showed shock and horror.  “I can’t dance,” he said, “You know I am a klutz on the dance floor.”  “”I don’t feel that I can dance either, “I replied, “But I don’t want to die without trying.”  Rodger’s face was serious and concerned.  I persisted, “You don’t have to come to dance lessons if you don’t want to.  I’ll go alone.  It’s OK.  I am going to go.  The flyer said you don’t need a partner”.  Rodger sat up straight.  “I’m your partner,” he said firmly, “I owe it to you to go to the first class and give it a try.” 

 

 

So he did.  He dreaded going to Carrillo Recreation Center on a hot evening in August.  But he came – reluctantly.  We learned the basic step – rock, step, triple 1, triple 2.  It was hot and the room was so crowded that we bumped into people by mistake.  But we kept on with our basic step until we began to get it.  We’ve had two classes so far and we’ve practiced at home a couple of times and we’re having fun.  We’re awkward on the dance floor but we’re going to keep showing up on Tuesday nights for the next month.  We’re dancing. 

 

 

-1998

Posted by permission. Thank you G.D. And I'm glad you're dancing and having fun.