Tomorrow is my second belly dance class, and just like last week, I can’t help asking myself “what were you thinking”?
I was thinking positive things:
- it’s great exercise
- it’s my turn to wolf down food and race out the door one night a week for an extracurricular activity
- I had so much fun last time
I was thinking negative things:
- It’s been 10 years – I am too old/not bendy for this
- I’m so tired
- And this…
She started with the basic position: knees shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent and soft, slight pelvic tilt, & gut sucked in. Nailed it!
She started us with the hip slide…and that went ok…it was all coming back to me. But then she came around to watch us individually. She smiled at me and said, “I’m going to love having you as a student”. The affirmation!! The applause! I grinned from ear to ear. I saw my name is lights…and then she started to laugh. Apparently more than my hips were sliding and I looked more like a spazz than a sex pot!
Her next technique involved adding actual side steps to the hip slide. At first, I barely moved. I had to concentrate so hard on sticking my left hip out while my right foot stepped to the right that I thought my eyes were going to pop out. Pretty soon I started to get the hang of it and looked in the mirror. I looked like I was having a seizure standing up, and I started to covet the one position that had no mirror in front of it.
Then the teacher came to watch me one on one. She was rather quick to point out that I was stopping between each slide-step and that was a different, more advanced technique. Sweetheart – I wasn’t doing a different technique. I was pausing between each step because I was
hoping letting my brain catch up to my hips before I moved on, lest I hurt someone – her or me!
Thankfully, she moved on to another dancer, before adding yet another step – the hip shimmy. It involves lifting and dropping our soft knees so our hips move up and down naturally. There was nothing natural about what I was doing. As we grew more comfortable, we were to increase our lifting and dropping until we were in full shimmy. Now I really did look like Homer Simpson, only less coordinated! Everything was starting to shimmy. My body took on a life of its own. Then she made us stand on our toes to do it and added arms over our heads – and my head, along with my ego, threatened to explode…
Class was over. I may have blacked out. Or I got slapped in the head with my breasts. Either way, I packed up my coin belt and schlepped my numb bum and bum knee to the car in the icy air. The winter chill brought me a little perspective:
I need to increase my collision coverage!
There isn’t a corset with enough boning to contain the chaos.
But since I paid for it, class #2 is tomorrow night!
“Woo hoo! Look at the blubber go!” -Homer Simpson