“Do you wanna dance?”
Maybe it’s the simplicity. Naivety. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re strangers. The mystery. The way you’re someone new to someone who doesn’t know you. Maybe it’s the bending of the crying steel guitar and the longing of the aching fiddle that buckles you into a time machine. Maybe it’s how good it feels to hold on to another human and spin across the room where your feet don’t leave the ground but somehow, you float. Quick, quick, slow, slow… Maybe it’s the way no one minds if you miss a step. Maybe it’s the freedom of just one song. And then a tipping of a hat. Maybe it’s the surrender. Maybe it’s the encouragement just to follow. To let go of control and trust somebody. Maybe it’s the way you feel safe in this group of people just holding on to one another in all the innocence of dancing, when the world around you feels pretty mad. Inaugurations and wildfires and division and fear are everywhere you turn but then you turn into the parking lot of East Side Bowl you set your worry by the ashtrays at the door. You walk past the bowling allies, turn left at the venue sign and get a stamp on your had paying cash for the cover and enter into a room where everything is going to be ok because people just dance together.
I walked in for my first two steppin lesson, just as awkward as I was in ninth grade gym class where Mr. Nagel had us line up across from our partners. I remember feeling so nervous to dance with these classmates I’d grown up with. This was slightly less anxiety inducing because it was a room of strangers I’d never met before. I had no idea what I was doing (clearly Mr. Nagel’s lessons didn’t stick) and honestly I felt like staying glued to my couch in a Tuesday slump. I’m in a season of trying to override my system and push myself to (often grudgingly) try new things. My friend Amanda told me about how she goes dancing every Tuesday night and how much fun she has. She recommended I go early for the lesson and it took everything in me to get in my Tacoma and drive over to actually do it. I walked in the room and the vibe felt like an old Texas movie scene, bartender’s setting the water jugs on the edge of bar and coats draped over wooden tables and chairs. The instructor invited me over to join the lines facing partners and that’s when the ninth grade nerves kicked in. Our group was outnumbered so for a moment I was about to be a leader, until our group shifted and I was rescued by my new partner Austin into learning how to follow. Thank God.
The lesson went fast and I had so much fun. Austin was already a great dancer, so it was fairly easy to learn to follow the basic foundation steps. I even learned two different fancy spins. By the end of the lesson I didn’t feel like a stranger anymore. I’d met some new friends and people who felt just as nervous as I did. Once the lesson wrapped, the velvet amber curtains on the stage opened and a Texas swing band in bolo ties and embroidered pearl snap shirts started to play. More and more people started arriving and I stood just watching, smiling at the different characters on the floor of all ages and kinds. You can tell the ones who have been doing this forever. They move so effortlessly. Without thought, in the best way. Life gives them the song and they follow their instinct to make it something fun. And then it began. Someone came over and asked me to dance and I floated on the dance floor all night long from one person’s arms to the next. I had the best time. I’m so glad I got off my couch and went. This might be my favourite of the 100 new things challenge so far.
On my way out the door, I waited for a moment, leaning against the pillar in the middle of the back of the room and just watched the bustle. It looked pretty beautiful to me. I really felt a part of something where people weren’t behind a screen or lost in their own tunnel vision, and instead were alive and present in the music and the way it called them to move across the floor and hold on to one another. If you’re looking for a restored idea of humanity, I recommend going dancing.
From one wandering soul to another, I hope you know you’re loved as you are <3
Funny that your post flittered across my screen. Last night, I too, took up some dance lessons: two step & fox trot. I almost didn’t go because my husband (who a few weeks earlier had expressed interest in taking the lessons with me) had a “headache” & was in bed when I got home from work. Funny, right? I sat on the couch & considered whining & feeling sorry for myself. I decided his surprise ailment was not going to stop me, so I grabbed my shoes, jumped in the car & headed off alone.
While surfing the snow drifts in my Chevy Cruze I questioned my sanity. Was this lesson really worth driving in these conditions?
My evening consisted of two left feet & a huge reminder of how counting to the beat of the music & coordination of my body parts was a struggle. Those past struggles had sprung loose from my memory & threatened to invade my attempt. An old fear & ultimate defeat resurfaced of the tick, tick, ticking of a metronome on the piano while I practiced reminded me why I quit after 5 years of frustration. (Sigh) Would I give up this time? Oh hell no!!
At any rate, the older gentleman whom I was partnered with always apologized for the mistakes that I am sure were mostly mine. We made it through the lesson & I drove home replaying the quick, quick, slow, slow beat all the way home. This morning, I put on some music & practiced all by myself in my kitchen. Lol I think I’ve finally coordinated my feet to the beat.
One thing that I have learned over the years is to NEVER GIVE UP. Even when our fears cloud our thoughts. The rewards are great when you continue to try.
This is wonderful Tenille. It's so great you decided to do that. It seemed like a wonderful experience. That is something I've never done before. You give me something to think about.