I have always loved dance. Watching it, doing it. I’m still having a blast taking tap dancing classes. Short videos on social media featuring all types of dance captivate me. From ballet, to tap, to hip hop—I enjoy it all. There is something magical about the body’s ability to transform itself in relation to music. A silent ballet is still beautiful, but capturing the essence of melody, harmony, and rhythm with the mechanics of the body, its skeleton and muscles, elevates the music and brings a new, visual perspective.
When two people dance together, either choreographed or free-form, each partner responds to the other’s movements. The whole provides an amalgamation beyond what the two individuals are doing separately. A pas de deux in ballet, all forms of ballroom dancing, and even couples dancing together in a club—all are interacting with and responding to each other in ways that complement the other.
Boxing and other forms of fighting also involve two bodies interacting with and responding to each other. Here, though, the movements of one do not coordinate with the other, but counter the other with blocks and resistance. Wrestling, freestyle or the WWF variety, comes closer to dance, as the two bodies tangle with each other, but it’s still antagonistic, not cooperative.
When I confront something within myself that I don’t like and that needs changing, I often fight with it. “Why do I do that? It’s not right that I always…When will I ever learn to be a better person?” I beat myself up over perceived flaws in my character as I struggle to change a way of being in the world that no longer serves me. Sometimes I realize that certain ways that I have moved through the world are unproductive, or even harmful, to myself or others, and my initial response is to put up defenses and try to block unwanted thoughts. There is little compassion for the parts of myself that I don’t like.
Other times I wrestle with myself, turning things over in my mind, playing out alternate scenarios, playing good cop/bad cop or the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. If the issue involves something that I need to change about myself, I may struggle with the desire to change versus the ease of continuing to live in ways and fashions that have become comfortable. “I don’t want to change. It’s too hard. But if you make this change, your life could be so much more…” Turning it over in my mind, trying to connect to what I feel in my heart. It’s a more loving approach, but there is still antagonism and tension.
How much better it is to dance with myself when I am confronted with a nudge to walk in the world differently. Loving myself, having compassion on the woman who has experienced all that she has, and acknowledging that the woman I was in the past will not give way to a whole new variety of herself. Rather, I will dance with them all. My girl-child self is part of my adolescent self is part of my young adult self is part of my middle-aged self is part of my career self is part of my retired self is part of my widowed self is part of me now. I can acknowledge what has come before, where I am now, and where I want to be—with love and empathy. When I dance, I am partnering with all my incarnations, carrying them with me into the future.