The Flame Ignites

I had resigned myself to the idea that dancing, for me, would be an unfulfilled yearning. In my mid-twenties, I told myself I was too old for dancing and should transfer all such longings into a more suitable outlet. The dancing flame was buried, and I took up the violin. Playing the violin was enjoyable enough, but I wasn’t a musician. I was a dancer.

In my early thirties, I went back to university to do a Diploma of Education so that I would be able to work as a teacher. I thought teaching would fit in with raising young children on my own. One of the short options in the diploma was dance. As soon as I began the dance option, the dancing flame ignited. It came alive. It was given oxygen, and it started to breathe with a great gust of enthusiasm and relief. I was amazed because I no longer knew it was there and certainly did not know the intensity with which it had waited for air. How wonderful it felt. How deeply it touched me. I felt something in me that was different to all the other parts of me, and it felt uniquely beautiful and satisfying. Alas, the dance option was over too quickly, and I returned to the academic task at hand.

When the Diploma of Education was completed, life carried on. One day, I asked myself if I needed to do something different to improve the quality of my life. Naturally, the dancing flame leapt at the opportunity as it had only recently felt its first breath in nearly a decade. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t take up dancing now,” warned my rational mind. “You are a responsible mother of two young children. Grown-up women don’t dance.”

“Oh, be quiet,” my free mind replied. “I could be dead in a year. Then what would it matter?” 

I did not die. I did take up dancing—in the form of ice skating. I skated for thirteen years with great enjoyment. Like a friend who was lost and then refound, the bond is protected at all costs. I later transferred to ballroom dancing, which I loved even more. 

Dancing has helped me feel connected to myself and life. It fulfils an inner drive that has remained with me since I was a young child with a treasured picture of beautiful ballet couple Margot Fonteyn and Rudolph Nureyev. I didn’t know who they were, but they were fascinating and lovely. We are no one else. We are ourselves. We must be that, with no regrets, if we wish to be happy. If we keep going forward, following our natural, intuitive, and sincere path, everything will tend to align with our good intention.

Learn more about Dance: A Spiritual Voice