Life essentials, continued (see previous post, where I sagaciously cut my tome short):

It is one of my foremost goals to incorporate dance back into my life in at least some manifestation. It fell assuredly by the wayside over the last two years and most precipitously during bar prep. As an attempt to bring some of it back, I went out dancing at the Bellingham Dance Company for the first time ever last weekend. Since it is sort of the Majestic (where I used to dance) reboot, this isn't really a first time thing, but a hugely nostalgic homecoming with many familiar faces. It was pure ecstasy, in part, I admit because of the substantial lapse in time since my last experience in a ballroom. I do, of course, attend the Blue Moon parties more commonly, but I have the very directed goal of seeing Molly and Marcus when I go there and usually bring my partner for the evening without much bothering to mingle - I rather aggressively protect my seat near the front desk while I'm there so that I can spend much of the lesson and dance catching up.

This weekend, I followed up last weekend's dancetravaganza by contracting a flu from one of my nephews and missing out on my Seattle plans. C'est la vie.

Dance hits a quirky intersection of life-arenas for me. On the one hand, it's a discipline/art/sport. To this end, I am beginning lessons with Nate again (to a more limited extent, given my current interest in financial solvency in a year or two from now). This is the side of dance that involves - aside from ten tons of glitter and self-tanner - the hours of solitary practice in front of grimacing reflections and utter fixation on singular and obscure muscle groups the average person may never meet.

My goals in this aspect are initially modest. I can't afford to compete any time soon. I am far enough away from my peak abilities (with which far too many people are familiar) that I would be embarrassed to perform for at least a while without a clustering of lessons that aren't fiscally reasonable at this point. First and foremost, I need to regain the strength in the right muscle groups. I know that I have the muscle memory still there, but not the power to back it up with appropriate precision. I suspect this means lots of drilling of the aforementioned grimacing-reflecting sort. I expect to work through the bronze and silver syllabi while doing this. Once this is more cemented, I would like to return to my perpetual challenge of refining my spontaneous eruptions of musical excitement into a sophistication of my own styling (which has an undeniable elan to it, but as with many raw expressions can be hideously awkward and bizarre from time to time). Don't get me wrong - I always have and always will hate watching myself dance, but the nice thing about dance generally is that I both understand that my view is purely subjective and for the most part I enjoy it so much I don't care a whit that I look like a dog with her head out the window surrounded by flailing jerky arms and legs.

 The goal oriented part of dance has always interacted uneasily with the rest of it - which almost thrives on goalessness, carelessness, and pure transcendence of self-awareness. It's an odd marriage and one in which one side constantly threatens the survival of the other.

 When I was single, dance provided my source of pure unadulterated intimacy. Not in a strictly concupiscent manner (although surely that was there). I have discussed that pure surge of complete and absolute - albeit temporary - knowledge of another person and the sense of utterly sharing a moment and a music with another... so that. This relies upon the ability to leave self-awareness by the wayside. As soon as you start thinking about your turnout or styling, the connection and melting into another and the music is lost. On the other hand, the greater the technique, the greater the ability to make that connection without your limitations standing in the way. So... a balance.

And of course, it is a social aspect in that dance life = social life. It's a perfectly formed context for an introvert - constant, set roles, one-on-one interactions, and steadily repeatable without the stress of additional planning and scheduling. More than this, of course, is that it brings out a part of me that is wholly me, but entirely different from the serious, intelligent, and taciturn ME that stalks the academic halls, or the soothing and professional ME who listens well and is best described as calming and competent. And well, I kind of enjoy being a temporary extrovert. I don't mind being charming, daffy and charismatic. Nor do I have any problem making grown men blush and grow giddy merely because I have chosen to talk to them. It's oddly entertaining to have developed a blush-worthy reputation based solely on my aura and my uninhibited unabashed belief that what happens on the the dance floor stays on the dance floor. But at the same time, although the thriving and revelling in a certain ME seems to be wrapped up in ego, focus too much on performance goals and competitive aims and the charm fades away into a mere parody of that persona (a mere me-me-me instead of simply a ME). Whoever i am, I will always prefer to simply present myself for others to take or not, and abstain from coercing others to the taking.

And of course there's teaching, which I suppose I did in many ways to cut my losses and increase my dance time. I don't think I have the missionary leanings required for true teaching-commitment. As above, I prefer to be available if approached. While I certainly can sell myself and play politics, it does take a little something out of the experience for me, even if the ultimate experience of watching another come to her own dance-nirvana is as satisfying as achieving my own. That said, if I get back in peak form, I would certainly consider it again for the economic advantages of more-time-less-money, if nothing else. And I do think I had something to offer people.

Anyways, it will be interesting to see how these areas play out and how I will juggle my long distance relationship with the required amount of face time that will keep me involved. Andrew's sport is cycling, something that is both weekend and daytime intensive. Dance of course is weekend, but evening intensive. We're both supportive of each other's interests, but at the same time, if we both simply pursue our goals full throttle, it means that our only time together - the weekends - would be boiled down to a spare hour while he is showering after a ride and I am dressing for a dance. If only there were more daytime practicas and weeknight dances for me or nighttime rides for him, so we could each puruse our individual passions without it being at the cost of potential time together.