Truth be told I shouldn't actually have these blisters. They are dance shoe blisters. I only danced for 2 hours. That's nothing.
Right now it's everything.
In the process of finding myself again I went to a monthly contra dance. I used to dance at least once every week. I used to think, if I could be anything I'd be a professional contra dancer (no, that doesn't exist). I used to travel to contra dance weekends and dance 8 hours a day for 3 days straight. Blisters weren't a thing.
A couple of years ago I made some choices that led me down a path I thought would still include contra dancing, but instead left it out. For excuses, for finances, for fun, for whatever, contra dancing just never really happened. Literally, it's been years.
It's sometimes amazing to look back and wonder how much time got past you. How did you let something so vital and beautiful out of your life for so long? I had my reasons, albeit, in hindsight, not good ones.
So tonight, I put on my dancing shoes and headed out on the floor. My shoes haven't been worn in so long the sole is actually cracked from the bottom through to the inside and I didn't know it. The elastic is so stretched out in the ankle buckle the tightest fit is no longer snug. A feeling of shock, horror, unsatisfaction with my life and decisions swept over me when I took out my dance shoes to put them on. How could I let one of the most beautiful parts of my life skip away so effortlessly?
I don't have an answer to share, but I do have a wonderful story of dance and the joy it brings and the joy it shares.
At the contra dance, there weren't many people. I was the 32nd person to show up and I was a half hour late because I got lost. (Yes I have Google maps. No, my phone is not functioning well enough to use it within a 5 minute window).
I brought my usual joy and love of dance and nothing else. I had never danced with anyone at the dance before. I hadn't danced contra in years so my confidence level was really low. After the first dance, it was coming back. My feet knew all the right moves even if my brain couldn't recall all the correct names.
People asked me where I learned to dance, how I learned to dance, and how long I'd been dancing. It blew me away.
There was an uneven number of men to women so I mustered my courage and took on the lead role, a role I was even less confident in and had danced even less in the years I danced contra consistenly. Despite the minor hiccups I noticed, my follows were happy and enthusiastic. After two dances as a lead, a young woman who wanted to learn to lead but was inexperienced and hesitant to do so agreed to lead me. After our dance I was showing her a safe way to spin a follow and as I looked out of the corner of my eye, nearly half the dancers had gathered to listen to my instruction. Again, I was blown away (in a good way).
I got ready to dance as a follow yet again and the gentleman in my square stopped to ask me how I did a particular move. Swings I have done and seen for many years and just did naturally were brand new to the group both as a lead and a follow. I got to show him how to do a simple yet beautiful swing just slightly different than the traditional.
There were two waltzes at the break and end of the dance. I typically don't like a boring waltz but it had been more years than missing contra that I had led a waltz. I didn't want to follow and I did want to waltz so that left me only the option of facing my fear head on and asking a lady to follow my lead. Both of the women I danced with told me they were very happy but what struck me most was the last waltz. The lady said she used to dance all the time and from physical complications hadn't danced in awhile. The waltz moves I did were only ones I've watched others do on the dancefloor and either asked how to do them or just picked them up by watching. But she was amazed and had so much fun. Watching her joy made my night.
I usually cause quite a ruckus when I mess around at contra dances. I kept it extremely tidy at this one, and even the teeny bit of fun I did have was looked down upon by at least one person. There's always one right?
But even with the negative looks and lack of looks or acknowledgment toward me, nothing could change the amazing energy of joy and gratitude I felt from having touched the lives of so many in a positive way. And not just for one dance, but for many to come. The moves I taught, and the tips I showed will be remembered and used to make the dance floor a more wonderful place.
What more could any "professional" contra dancer ask for? Maybe some more well loved blisters.
