I’ve been dreaming of taking modern dance.
Well, the truth is I’ve been dreaming of performing like Alvin Ailey, or Martha Graham and being able to express myself through movement in front of an audience. I’ve been awed by graceful dancers my whole life.
For whatever reasons, I’d been delaying actually goingto a class, however. Recently, I told myself, “It’s now or never.” So, I found myself a modern dance class in town, and gathered up the courage to check it out.
Little did I know I would be the only new person in the class made up of all company members of a modern dance troupe.
As we sat on the floor stretching, I felt somewhat at home having danced most of my life (free form however) and being a yoga instructor helped. Feeling at home in my body was not an issue. Following a choreographed routine, that was a whooooole other story.
As we began, I did just fine. Stretch the back, bend the knees, round the back, reach the arm. The feet were still fairly planted in one spot at this point. I felt the warmth of pride flooding me.
“See, you’re doing this Diane,” I said to myself. “You could actually join them eventually and perform,” I silently murmured.
And then fast tendues began to the rockin’ rhythm of Ricky Martin. We stood on the left leg, arms raised, and the right leg went lift, lift lift, out in front, to the side, to the back. Arms changed positions with each leg movement as fast as bees fly from one flower to the next.
The teacher kindly said, “And feel free to just do the leg portion. Forget the arms if you need to.” Clearly directed at me.
My arms flailed as I looked around, trying to follow one of the beautiful, tall, graceful dancers in the front of the room. She looked like Audrey Hepburn, raising her long arms and pointing her toes as her leg moved up and down, side and back.
With each sequence, the movements became more complicated. And then it happened. We had to do the “go across the floor in pairs, WHILE EVERYONE WATCHED” movements.
When the teacher showed the movement pattern to jet ourselves from one corner of the room to the other, I laughed inside. “It’s ok, you’re here, you’re trying,” I soothed myself. “Take a breath. None of these people know you.”
Smirking at my inevitable clunky movements ahead, I took my place behind two dancers and flung myself out into the middle of the room, watching the other dancer as intently as a lion hunts his next meal. My mind raced to catch up with what she was doing – lift arms, lunge, twist and turn to the left (which way is left?) then roll on the floor and lift the hips. Then do it again!
You can imagine how that went. I tried one round, reached the middle of the floor and then scurried across the hardwood to get to the side as fast as I could while looking at all of the people watching.
And then I laughed.
Out loud.
I felt like Lucille Ball in the I Love Lucy show where she’s working in the chocolate factory, and the conveyor belt speeds up and she can’t keep up, so she starts to eat the chocolates, then puts them in her pockets, her shirt, and soon she’s a chocolate mess.
Despite the intense desire to leave immediately, even though I was happy to see that my inner critic had not shown up to berate me, I stayed. Our next adventure was to leap and land across the room, arms reached out in front, and then side. Toes pointed. Heads up.
Leap and land.
Leap and land.
While the company members resembled beautiful gazelles, I was more like a thudding donkey.
This particular movement reminded me, with a sharp pain in my left shin bone, that I actually can’t leap and land. I remembered the titanium rod in my leg.
“Ohhhhhhh,” I began to tell myself. “You CAN’Tmove this way. That’s the impact from the accident from 20 years ago.” I felt relieved.
“Ok, perhaps you’re NOT going to join the company,” I consoled myself. Perhaps, you need another kind of dance movement where you can listen to what your body needs so you don’t hurt yourself.
So, when I got back to the corner by the door, even though class was almost done, I did a little head nod to the instructor, offered a grateful bow, and left the class.
“AHHHHHH.” I felt so light leaving. I was actually elated that I had tried. So, I wouldn’t become a modern dance company member in this lifetime.
It was ok.
I would still dance!
