Making the Tango Honeymoon Last - for you, and for other dancers too.
Part I: Vignette
"At the Crossroads . . ."
Maestra: Grande! Grande! (exasperated sigh) You dance too small, too quiet. You hold too much back.
Me (looking at my feet and feeling disproportionately defensive by her remark): Well, I get plenty of dances at the milonga. (I admit, not one of my better moments.)
Maestra: (sigh) That is because you are simpatico.
Despite the sound of it, Maestra was not criticizing me, or giving me a backhanded compliment with that description, however nor was she complimenting me. Her appraisal was almost completely neutral. I thought about that remark for weeks.
What did she mean? Was I only getting dances because I was nice? Did she mean my dancing wasn't very good? Was I coasting? Did leaders just feel sort of bad for me and that's why they asked me to dance?
Finally I came to a realization about myself and about what tango means to me. If I get danced as much as I do because I'm comfortable, or because I'm nice, or because I'm easy to please, or because, as my husband suggests, I giggle any time I dance to anything - then I think that is a good thing.
I asked myself the question, if I had to choose between being asked to dance because I was a skilled dancer, or because I was a kind dancer - which would I choose? (Obviously, I would like to be both - but if I had to choose.)
If I could only be one or the other, I would rather be kind.
Sometimes I think that can be the harder path to walk. The rules are fuzzier. The risks and vulnerability feel far greater. But the pay off is out of this world.
Part I: Vignette
"At the Crossroads . . ."
Maestra: Grande! Grande! (exasperated sigh) You dance too small, too quiet. You hold too much back.
Me (looking at my feet and feeling disproportionately defensive by her remark): Well, I get plenty of dances at the milonga. (I admit, not one of my better moments.)
Maestra: (sigh) That is because you are simpatico.
Despite the sound of it, Maestra was not criticizing me, or giving me a backhanded compliment with that description, however nor was she complimenting me. Her appraisal was almost completely neutral. I thought about that remark for weeks.
What did she mean? Was I only getting dances because I was nice? Did she mean my dancing wasn't very good? Was I coasting? Did leaders just feel sort of bad for me and that's why they asked me to dance?
Finally I came to a realization about myself and about what tango means to me. If I get danced as much as I do because I'm comfortable, or because I'm nice, or because I'm easy to please, or because, as my husband suggests, I giggle any time I dance to anything - then I think that is a good thing.
I asked myself the question, if I had to choose between being asked to dance because I was a skilled dancer, or because I was a kind dancer - which would I choose? (Obviously, I would like to be both - but if I had to choose.)
If I could only be one or the other, I would rather be kind.
Sometimes I think that can be the harder path to walk. The rules are fuzzier. The risks and vulnerability feel far greater. But the pay off is out of this world.
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