One of my goals for 2019 is to incorporate the things I love, or used to love, back into my life. These goals, which I will be mentioning in posts here and there, are not to be confused with my resolutions.
Over the last year and a half, I have once again allowed myself to let go of nearly everything I once enjoyed. My days are spent sat at my work desk or sitting slave to my television in whichever room it is currently occupying. My conversations are few and far between but always contain the following sayings “I wish I still…” “I’d love to…again” “I used to love doing…” and “why don’t I…anymore?”
I rely on dancing almost daily to assist me with stabilising or improving my mood. My Sunday mornings are often spent pouring over dance video after dance video on YouTube. I’m always amazed, I’m always fixated and, yeah, I’m always a little bitter. That’s okay. When I’m 9 episodes deep into whichever Netflix programme I’m watching and it’s time to grab a snack I will, nine times out of ten, dance my way into the kitchen. Then back again. Often forgetting my snack and having to go through the whole rigmarole again to retrieve it.
My friend and I had an idea. We wanted to go on a walk. We wanted to relive our childhood making up dances in my garden. We combined the two. Leaving much later than planned we made our way to a local bird watching hut. It was freezing cold and dark but we chatted on the way and recounted the last time we took a walk here two years ago – too long ago. We must do this more often. After some doubts about if we were going the right way and agreements to turn back at the next bend, no the next bend, just one more bend. We made it. Two problems hit me as soon as I stepped inside. Lighting and music. Luckily, we were able to get around this with our phones – one for light and one for music. Then there came the opportunity. It was as though I’d stumbled upon a gold mine. Benches. Beams. Perfection. It was still bloody cold though! We lasted 20 minutes which was longer than my phone which died not long after we started. We were out of the house for a good 2.5 hours walking in the cold, dancing in the cold and obtaining various injuries in the process. But I was in such a good mood!
The hunt began. I trawled online for some adult dance classes. Days in a row. They are hard to come by where I live! I only found one dance class, and at the time I was disappointed. I went along anyway. The first class was hard. It is safe to say I will never be a professional dancer. I wasn’t letting go. I was in a new environment with new people doing something I haven’t done in years. BUT, did I enjoy it?
I bloody loved it.
I’ve gone along with my friend every week since. We have a different teacher each time which gives us the opportunity to explore different styles and techniques as well as tap into different parts of our creativity. Some classes are easier than others. Some are more enjoyable than others. The day I’ve had prior to sliding my shoes off and stretching tends to impact how much of myself I can give to the class. Which then impacts how easy I find it. It’s been a learning curve.
This goal of mine is far from being ticked off. I’m not the most consistent person which is evident from my four? (six?) posts last year. The challenge is continuing to go. I still dance my way to the kitchen. I still sit on the bus journey to work and envision choreography I will never be able to pull of in locations miles away. I still attempt the moves anyway. The reality is that I am not flexible, I can’t do a toe rise and I lack motivation 10 out of 12 months in a year. Therefore, the other challenge is accepting all of these things and going anyway.