February 26, 2005
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Something big happened for me tonight. I let go of something. You’d of thought I’d let go of it a long time ago but it just kept hanging on. I watched some old friends dance tonight. A former bellydance teacher of mine started a troupe, opened up her own studio, in fact. Tonight her troupe performed and I sat next to a young woman who I’m guessing was kicked out. She didn’t seem that upset about it so maybe she dropped out. X.’s troupe isn’t something you’d want to leave, though.
Q. was drinking a fair amount of red wine, something I hadn’t see her do before. This is the person I sold my red costume to. She came up to me one night in class and asked if I’d teach her and her friend a beginning Cabaret class. We were in X’s tribal class and I would stand in the back and do my own thing. Tribal can be a little repetitive so I’d jazz it up with some Egyptian Cabaret. I said I’d think about it. I talked to my husband and he flipped out. I talked to my cabaret teacher and she advised against it and I talked to X and she said she could understand how the other teacher felt. I went back to Q. and said I thought she should take from my teacher.
Not even six months later Q. was teaching a beginning Cabaret class to the tribal people. It was a good lesson for me. After my last surgery I sold my good costumes and stopped dancing. I would still take classes here and there and attend most of the shows but it always killed me to do it. I’d sneak in after everyone was seated and sneak out before they stood up. People would see me and come over but I tried to avoid those conversations that always started with “why aren’t you dancing? ” Watching dancers become better than I was, hurt. It’s a terrible thing to say but that’s how I felt. Not when I was watching them. I would cry at how beautiful they were. It was wonderful to see these girls come into themselves as dancers and as women. But on the way home in my car I would feel terrible. I would kick myself for quitting, thinking about how I could have been up there, too. I’d think about how good I would have been by now, and I’d feel so sad and mad.
Not tonight. Q. was the one who felt terrible tonight. I sat next to her and I wanted to say I knew just how she felt but I just rubbed her back instead. She knew I knew. I feel like I passed the baton to her or something. I haven’t felt like this for a long time. I am free now, free to appreciate something I used to love without the pain, the loss.
You have no idea how cool this is. It’s like some distant — hey, you know what it’s like it’s like my marriage, like when I left my family. I know that sounds bad but it’s the truth. Dance was everything to me and I walked away from it because I thought I had to. It wasn’t like I was that good. I was okay. But you know what the best thing about tonight was? I got to see that they managed to fuse Cabaret and Tribal without me.
Comments (10)
I’m glad that was a healing experience for you. Sometimes only time heals.
We all have our paths to take. When it’s time to take it, we gotta take. I think there are too many people who don’t understand this…
wow Pru
this was most enlightning to read
to give up something u love is always hard…but to
keep it in your life …your experiences cammot do anything
but summon strength…a beautiful story indeed…
I *smile*
Sometimes letting go is all about that one person…that one person who seemed to get what you so desperately needed and wanted…it sounds terrible to say, but sometimes you have to see for yourself that everyone struggles before you can get past it. I mean, too bad for Q., but good for you.
I agree with Moon – it’s very difficult to give up something you love but still participate in it, if only as an observer. What kind of surgery did you have? This must be so hard for you, but I bet it feels good to know you can move through this.
I can barely imagine where you are in your long journey from illness and its threat back to health and its joys not having been there, but this moment, the moment you describe here, surely is profound. With all my heart I wish you were still dancing, and perhaps you will. But I understand how the pain has dissolved into an enlightenment… xo
That was some wonderful moment, and I do know the kind of relief you have to be able to be free from the feelings you were carrying…
After I injured my back, I cried and cried…and the main thing on my mind was “I’ll never roller-skate, again.” How crazy is that? I dance…some…from time to time…carefully or with full abandom (which I pay for). I’d always wanted to learn dance…any kind. I’ve taught myself so many things but was never able to get to a class.
I eventually quit thinking about the roller-skating and started focusing on the things I can do.
My mother has fibromyalgia. I’ve watched her give up so much of her life to it…because of it. I know I may be headed down the same road…so I’m just enjoying what each day gives me. I don’t want anything spoiled by regrets.
You’ve taken a huge, healing step in your acceptance. I hope this new light shines brightly for you.
Peace and Love…GFW
moving on yet being there for those left behind– what a gift! only you knew the inner pain of that sad dancer and that is bc you had traveled the road before her… you’ve done this with your cancer, and now with your dancing! you have become a generous woman of light!
Baby steps….that’s all one can do. Congratulations…all it takes is that first step.
Namaste.
Letting go of something means you are free for something else, the next adventure.