I had resigned myself to the idea that dancing, for me, was going to be an unfulfilled yearning. In my mid-twenties, I told myself that I was too old for dancing and I had best 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, you see, 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 with no relatives around. 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 very surprised because I no longer knew it was there and, certainly, did not know the intensity with which it was waiting for air. How wonderful it felt. How deeply it touched me. I felt something in me which was different to all the other parts of me and it felt uniquely beautiful and satisfying. Alas, the dance option was over all too quickly and I returned to the academic task at hand.
When the Diploma of Education was completed, at the end of the year, 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 been a short time ago that it 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 said in reply. “I could be dead in a year. Then, what would that all matter?”
I did not die. I did take up dancing; in the form of figure skating. I skated for thirteen years with great enjoyment. Like a friend that was once lost and now has been found, the bond is protected at all cost. I later transferred to ballroom dancing which I loved even more.
Dancing has helped me to feel connected to myself and to life. It fulfils an inner drive which has remained with me my whole life from when 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 there was something fascinating and lovely about them both.
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 own natural, intuitive, and sincere path then all things will have a tendency to align with what is a good intention.
This article is from Dance: A Spiritual Affair