Shaking Through, Part Two

Tonight is my belly dancing class. I love it. Last week I was on Cloud Nine because the instructor stopped me after class and told me I was doing a great job and to keep it up.

This may seem simple to you, but it's unbelievable to me. I've always loved dancing, but I've never been able to find something I could do that wouldn't make me feel fat and awkward. Ballet and modern choreography just don't look right on a short, stumpy woman, no matter how good a dancer she is. But belly dancing...it's magic. It's a wiggle that any woman with a little grace and a little jell-o in her limbs can make look fantastic and enticing.

It's so rare for me to find something that my body can do well. (Well, there's one thing, but I haven't always been so sure about my ability to do that, either.) I have no idea what I want to do with this. I can't imagine dancing in a recital. I just want to know I can do it and to study to improve. Just for myself.

Another thing I like about this class is that, unlike the last class I took awhile back, it's not populated mostly by gorgeous 20-somethings who've taken 12 years of classical dance and want to try something new. We're all more or less beginners here. And the 20-somethings who are in the class are newbies at dance and perhaps even at understanding their bodies. There's a group of medical students who come together each week who are earnest and hardworking but seem more at home on the basketball court than on the dance floor. Their bodies are stiff, as though they didn't know they could undulate and sway. It's fun watching them loosen up with an art form that's designed by and for women to work with the way a woman's body moves best.

Of course, it's a little unsettling for me to watch myself dance in a mirror. I thought I was a better dancer when I was doing it in the privacy of my bedroom with the terrible lighting. I didn't know then that my arms look like hams when I lift them over my head. And I seem a little stiff myself. I'm looking forward to loosening up and really letting go.

I wish I could get Fiona to do it. I'd like for her to experience the relaxation and joy of letting her body un-self-consciously move the way it's supposed to. Like me, she can be a little tense. But of course, the very idea of me belly dancing, much less her, prompts the never-ending eye roll.



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