Dancing in the Dark and Letting in the Light

One of the reasons I love to go out dancing is because it's relatively dark. There are so many times I've gone out dancing looking really, really bad because of my intense role as a caregiver for such a long time. Puffy eyed, miserable, crying there and back and definitely chronically sleep deprived doesn't make for looking gorgeous. But I would go because dancing means so much to me. Last night was no different. I'm always so tense as I drive there. My car isn't in great shape, and I usually don't have too much money. But, as always, as soon as I open the door, everything changes. I hear the music, see the smiling faces and I'm devoured by its joy and beauty. Everything else fades from my mind. I have some kind of "teen age" energy when it comes to dancing and I feel powerful, sensual and vibrantly alive. The other thing I realized last night while dancing is how "centering" it is. To be a good dancer (which I like to be) you have to be really centered. Posture is very important in dancing and can make the difference between a good dancer and a great one. This good posture really aligns the body in a healthy way and enables a person to move better, with more fluidity, grace and control. I just love it! Having spent so much time being tossed and blown by my daughter's illness and recovery and basically by life itself, being centered is very helpful for me. I also find that within the darkness of a dance club, there is so much light. Another paradox. The darkness if filled with the light of music, rhythm and joy. Like the stars that fill the night sky or the yin/yang symbol of light within darkness and darkness within light. Like a candle that burns in the darkness. Sometimes I wonder where do the darkness and light meet each other? At what point, in what place does the light of the candle meet the surrounding darkness? Where does the darkness take on the light of the candle? Good questions!

Is it Coincidence or Fate?

I was completely drawn to the painting that I used last night in my blog. I wasn't quite sure why, among all the other artwork I could use for a blog on dancing, I chose the painting that I did. It is of Ida Bernstein. She is someone I never heard of, but I thought the painting was beautiful and so I used it. Of course (me being me), I had to do research and find out who Ida Rubenstein was. It turns out, she was a ballet dancer, patron and iconic beauty in the late 1800's. Rubenstein was bisexual and had an affair with artist Romaine Brooks who painted her a number of times and used her as a nude model for Venus.

I "clicked" on this information and the word "Venus" took me to the painting "The Birth of Venus" by Boticelli. I'm not sure of the connection, but ANYWAY, here is where Coincidence and Fate get blurred. For many years, my daughter Cristina had a poster of this painting in her room. After she moved to California I (luckily) inherited this and loved it.

The name of this blog is "Venus Blog." I'm not sure what all this means, but it's just SOOOO coincidental... or is it Fate?

Life Is Like A Dance Floor

I became a dancer during one of the most difficult periods of my daughter's recovery from a bone marrow transplant. Dancing is probably what saved both of our lives. In dancing, I found the only relief from the constant pain and anguish of my daughter's condition. Dancing was literally the only way I actually took care of myself as a caregiver. Besides the physical benefits of dancing: aerobic exercise, increased endorphin levels and increased flexibility, it had a major impact on me emotionally.

I would go from the utter misery of my daughter’s situation to the utter joy of dancing. This joy was the only thing that alleviated the emotional pain I was in. For me, dancing took total concentration and for that few hours I was out spinning and twirling, I could think of nothing else. Many, many times I cried all the way there, danced for a couple hours, and cried all the way home. There were countless times I went out puffy eyed, disheveled, not caring what I looked like… but I danced. As soon as I walked into a place to dance, it was like Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz" where the movie is black and white until she gets to Oz and then everything becomes color. That's how I felt. The misery and bleakness faded away in the few hours I spent out dancing. Everything about it was so beautiful. The music, the movement of everyone, the smiles on everyone's faces. I was THRILLED!

Over the years, I’ve discovered many lessons through dancing. Chief among them is that Life is like a Dance Floor. There are many paradoxes involved with dancing which could be why it’s so much like life. There is a room full of people with just so much room for everyone. Other than the partner you are with at the moment, everyone is independent of each other while, at the same time, everyone is very dependent on everyone else in the room. No one likes the person who bumps into everyone, or is rude, loud or doesn’t know how to “play well with others.” It’s like children playing in a sandbox, or playground. It is the “art” of complete independence and complete involvement with others.

Then, of course, is the person you are dancing with. As one half of a couple in dancing, you need to be completely involved with your partner, while at the same time completely standing on your own. You don’t want your partner to drag you around, weigh you down, step on your feet or hit you in the head while turning you and you don’t want to do that to your partner. Both people need to be strong individually and yet completely one. To dance correctly, you need to find the perfect balance between being totally relaxed and totally toned. As a “follower” in dancing, you can NEVER anticipate what your partner is going to do. That’s one of the things I love most about dancing. Learning not to anticipate. I spent so many years through my daughter’s illness and recovery anticipating what was going to go wrong next, what new emergency there was going to be, what new surgery she would need, etc. Dancing for me means to be completely Present in the Here and Now. That seems to me to be the best way to go in life too. How much time do we spend regretting past mistakes, and worrying about the future? Never living in the Present. For many years, I would only have a few hours a week to go out and I learned to live each second of it and how precious NOW is!

Another aspect of dancing that I love is that if you make a mistake… you just keep moving! I love that! There’s a quote about what it means to be a champion: something like… it’s not how many times you fall down… it’s how many times you get up! So making a mistake and moving on is a great lesson in being a Champion in life.

Dancing for me is also like being in the eye of a hurricane. In the center of this music and movement is complete Stillness. It is in this Stillness that I have been able to process much of what has been happening to my daughter and me. I know I appear “rude” to other people because I don’t talk much, but I need the Stillness and Silence that’s within the dancing. It also became a very sacred experience to me. Dancing became (and still is) part of my spiritual life and a sacred space that is absolutely necessary for me. Like life, we all need a sacred space to process, just “be” and quiet our minds. I also love watching the way good dancers’ feet move on the floor. Good dancers’ feet “caress” the floor. It’s beautiful to watch and even better to do! It makes me think about how we relate to the earth and where and how our feet move. The “air” around dancers is also very clear and pure. Like watching a painter paint, the air around the painter is clear. The artistic process creates an energy that is beautiful to be a part of and witness.

I’m going out dancing later!