As unrelated to tango as anything can ever really be in my life. Which is to say, still a little related.Tonight I remembered why I stopped trying for so long.
I remembered when you told me,
after listening to me prattle about my day at school so many years ago,
"you know I really don't care about this right?"
I knew then it was always going to be about your way.
I shut my mouth.
You told me to always ask questions, but not to question you.
I learned that we couldn't just disagree, I could just be wrong.
You want my knowledge for your tool box, but you still dismiss me,
In my own home.
I'm still going to try. I'm still going to give you what you've asked for.
But now I remember the price.
There's something to it, what people say about the dance.
That often we're looking for something we missed in our past,
in the partners we dance with.
Maybe it's just an illusion of the embrace,
an enchantment of the music...
but it feels so shatteringly real.
To hear and be heard,
To hold and be held,
To love and be loved unconditionally,
for 10 minutes at a time.
Comments
That sounds a lot like my own father, at low points (for either him, or me, or both of us).
A lot of this resonates for me too. I came to tango after a bad breakup, hoping to meet some single men my age. I didn't find that--but I found that the feelings of close-embrace tango were so much more intense (both the highs and the lows) than anything I could have imagined for myself.
It has been a source of both frustration (even the good) and healing.
I'm sorry to hear you came to tango through such difficult experiences. But so glad that, partly through tango, you've been able to blossom and rise, like a lotus, out of the muck.
Accidental Tangoiste - I'm finding that the embrace heals many kinds of wounds lately. The tango experience can be rather like a lotus isn't it - something beautiful growing from the muck and mud.
ad - thanks, as always. :)
Wonderful writing, as always.