Many of you read my angst ridden post about tango eating my soul. Your comments, laughter, support and general understanding were wonderful and so appreciated.
And I am thrilled to say that I feel satisfied right now. Not satiated, really, but maybe satisfied. Satiated implies a sense of completion maybe, and I don't feel done. I just feel like I am sitting on the edge of the tango chasm, with a bottle of wine, the soft hum of the bees, the waning sun on my shoulders, with my feet dangling over loose and free. It's a nice feeling.
I had a dance last week that freed up a lot for me. He told me several times it didn't matter, we were just having fun, let's see if this works, and we laughed. I let go. I stopped caring if I "got it right", stopped worrying about how it all felt and just let go. He wouldn't be dancing with me if he didn't want to, right? Not four tandas in a row. Our last song was a milonga, and it was...hot. The music told a story of coupling, of the dance and the drive and the desire, of pleasing the woman and her, in turn, taking care of her man. It was...intense. I think we both walked off the floor a little dazed. I'm not sure he heard the same story I did, but we definitely both felt the connection.
So I am here feeling more confident, more alive, more comfortable sitting with the weighted passion of tango in my chest. It feels warm, and sultry, and romantic, and loving and I wouldn't change it for anything.
It's changing me.
3 comments:
Your tango posts are magical. I don't usually comment, but I love to read about the passion that surrounds your Dance, to hear the eloquent way you work out your turmoil and love.
Thank you.
Does bellydancing eat you the same?
It never did for me, and I wonder if this is something unique to tango, or to finding one's passion or to something else entirely.
That's one of the biggest breakthroughs in tango - when you realize it's better to let go. Letting go is more conducive to ultimately "feeling" what tango is all about.
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