Slow, quick, quick. Slow, quick quick. I hear the counts again and again in my head as I lead my partner across the dance floor. We stare into each other's eyes as our hips sway to the stuttering beat. Foreign, this place is not. Like mother's arms, it soothes me, as the fingertips of perspiration roll down my chest. A smile tickles it's way across my face as I realize there is nothing in the world I'd rather be doing. I love to dance.
Ever since I was a child, I've greatly enjoyed music. I can recall with equal ease and enthusiasm days where I, a six year old boy, would return from school to the livingroom whereupon I would spend entire afternoons listening to music. I would sit in my father's chair, King of My Universe, tapping along (and yes, singing) to the baseline of the song that reverberated off the cold, hardwood floors. Oldies, bluegrass, pop, rock, it didn't matter to me. I didn't have a favorite, I liked it all! This love for music at such a young age helped shape my passion for dancing.
Paying for all my own lessons, I began to study ballroom dancing at the age of 15. I quickly realized that I had found my niche. I had a natural ability on the dance floor. Leading was second nature for me, the beat of the music became a part of me, and as I learned more about each dance, I too learned more about myself.
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As any ballroom dancer will tell you, every dance has a personality, style and character allit's own. As I found this out, I began to develop favorites. I started to, and still do, go out every weekend and dance. And depending on what kind of day I have, or what my particular mood is, the dances are chosen accordingly.
I often compare dancing to poetry, me going on the floor is no different than putting pen to paper. I'm telling a story. If I, the poet, am depressed, I'm not going to dance a Cha-Cha. If I'm feeling flirtatious, I guarantee the Fox Trot is not my dance of choice.
If you ever want to know how I'm feeling, come watch me dance. Or, better yet, dance with me. I can express more about myself in half of a song than I could in an entire hour of discussion. This is by no means a reflection on my poor diction, believe me, I'm a talker. I just feel that sometimes words get in the way.
Let's say I'm in a great mood. Just got an A on my introspective paper, or something. I'm not going to the coffee shop, sit and drink a chai. No, I'm going to dance. What will I dance? Probably a salsa, or better yet, a swing. The fast paced, giddy nature of the bouncy dance that's equally flirtatious and fun. Triple-step, triple-step, rock step. It's non stop. No time to think, just do. It's an exciting dance, perfect for my mood.
But let's face it, I'm not always in that good of a mood. Have you even been depressed, I mean really depressed? To the point where you're sick to your stomach or even feel like your going to throw up. If you have, then you need Prozac, not dance. All kidding aside, sometimes the best remedy for depression is to immerse yourself in something that's the exact opposite. When I am bummed out, I enjoy the Meringue. True, it's not a depressing dance, if you want depressing do the Waltz, but it does lift your spirits. Meringue has an interesting characteristic that most other dances don't have. It only has one rhythm option. You can't vary from it, your stuck. The beat is boom, boom, boom, boom. Simple, easy, impossible to mess up. In fact, the first dance I'll teach anyone is the Meringue. But don't let the beat fool you. Just because it has that constant does not make it boring. Quite the contrary. Meringue is one of the most exciting dances performed today
What about anger? We all get angry, I get frustrated a lot, mostly with myself. But is there a dance for anger? Yes, we've all heard of it. It's called the Tango. Some would say that the Tango is about a chase between a man and a woman, not anger. They'd be right, to a point. Tango, while about the struggle between man and woman, also deals with another subject. The frustration that is a direct product of said struggle. Watch a professional perform the Tango. It's obviously a very sensual dance, but it's more. At some points during the dance the woman will actually push away from the man, refusing his advances. The man, obviously frustrated, continues on, unrelenting in his quest for the woman's hand.
This battle of the sexes as it were, reminds us to continue on, not to give up. To be determined to succeed in whatever our goal may be, and to use what ever frustration we may have to our advantage. Who says dance isn't powerful? What about love? There is a plethora of dances dealing with this subject. I have my personal favorite, the Rumba. It's close to the Waltz is original design, but that's where the similarities stop. The Rumba is all about flirting. Getting close and breaking away, touching each other, but only for a second. Incredibly enchanting dance when done correctly. It's my preferred dance to do in competitions and socially. Maybe that says something about my struggles with love, I don't know.
The beat to the Rumba is very natural. Slow, quick, quick. It's very fluid, almost free flowing, yet retains control over you with the constant beating of the congas. Rumba is almost like your heartbeat, you know it's there and it's inescapable. That's the passion of Rumba and it's why I love it so.
But I don't just love Rumba, I love all dances, even the ones I failed to mention here. Dance is an crucial part of my life. It has shaped my character, taught me life lessons, and enabled me to learn more about myself. I feel everyone has something that makes them happy. Be it writing, reading, solving a difficult math problem, or, in my case, dancing. I think the ultimate goal is to find that niche in life and go with it. I have a passion for dancing, I won't stop dancing anytime soon. I'm a better person for dancing. I'm me, because I dance.
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