The Best Things Happen When I'm Dancing...

"The best things happen when you're dancing."

Irving Berlin, as sung and danced by Danny Kaye & Vera Allen, White Christmas

I love to dance. Why? The best things in my life so far have happened because I was dancing. In high school I shuffled around, dumbly, gropingly during dances. Later, I dabbled in modern dance and weirded my kids out by donning tights and painting my face and body white, practicing at butoh, a meditative Japanese dance form. I've resisted disco and techno; then succumbed to their hypnotic beats. I've done my share of free form, part of the shuffling, swaying mass in countless bars, music festivals, and community centre dances. 


But my passion for dance really awakened when I discovered partner dancing. I'm not alone. There are millions of us who've been swept off our feet in the current global latin and ballroom dance fever. My candle of desire was lit about a dozen years ago. The music at the party was from Brazil, bossa nova. I wanted to move. But I stood, impotent, confounded by the lovely, intoxicating rhumba beat. I watched an acquaintance move his partner beautifully, passionately, effortlessly around the dance floor. And I knew: that is what I have to do. 


Eight years ago the woman of my dreams was the dance partner of my dreams. We courted through dance workshops. Moved by the ambient music while shopping, we danced in boutiques. Driving our Brady Bunch down the road we'd be overtaken by a song on the stereo. We'd pull over and jump out and shake our hips on the roadside, horrifying our kids. So began my apprenticeship into one of the finer, deeper arts of being fully alive as man: how to move with my partner with intention and care; how to guide her so that she unfolds, blossoms, and becomes -- if only for the 3-4 minutes of the dance -- the embodiment of beauty and grace. Heady stuff. And when it happens, it is heady. One of the best feelings I know. 


But, like many good things, the path to terpsichorean enlightenment (ie, the peak experience of dancing) is one of patience, persistence, and practica, practica, practica... Everywhere I go, I see that I'm not alone. I feel the heat of the global fever in people I meet from around the world, passionate in their pursuit of partner dancing. Salsa. Tango. Waltz. People want to move, together. To create dyadic patterns against the rich background of the amazing flood of music that is washing over the planet. Very cool. I certainly benefit -- from dancing, and from the wealth of dance instruction and opportunities in my town. 


Dancing has introduced me to the women in my life (I'd known my mother before I danced with her; I try to make up for this faux pas by dancing with her whenever I have the opportunity). Most recently, as I navigate yet another change in my life, I've been intently learning & practicing foxtrot and waltz, rhumba and cha cha. I've travelled to Buenos Aires to study tango. I'm making plans to study salsa and rhumba in la Habana. And I'm practicing practicing practicing several nights a week. 


For an hour or five, dancing helps me slip out of my thoughts and worries. I deepen my art, and I exercise my body and my soul. My face smiles. I see my dance partners engaged (always), happy and warm (usually), enchanted (sometimes). We laugh. As I learn to lead, her trust in me builds. Together we create a beautiful, almost mystical place. My observations and experiences suggest that dancing may be one of the best ways for men and women to be together, to appreciate each other. On the dance floor I exercise my abilities to be directive, assertive, etc AND protective, creative, and emotionally tuned as I lead. If I do my job with integrity and soul, my partner feels secure and responds with confidence, grace, and passion. 


Partner dancing is one of those wonderful places where the typically "masculine" qualities mesh beautifully with the typically "feminine." The result, for me, is pure pleasure. Getting to this place hasn't taken particularly long. But it's required persistence. The learning curve for most of us guys is steep: we have to lead, to feel the music, to think about our moves and where we're going, often while our partners are -- with good intention but generally poor results -- telling us what to do. I have been blessed on my learning curve: I started with a very sympatico partner, and benefit from excellent teachers. After my family, I live to dance. 


And I'm lucky. Because in the mid-Island/Comox Valley area we have a surfeit of dance classes, workshops, and venues. My faves? Valdance.com offers classes four nights a week and a Friday night workshop and social dance in Courtenay. VancouverIslandTango has classes and practicas in Argentine tango in Courtenay and Cobble Hill. KHDancin provide a variety of classes and events in the Campbell River-Comox Valley region (khdancin@shaw.ca FMI). To the south, there's Wanna Dance (http://members.shaw.ca/wannadance/Events.html) in the Nanaimo area. (originally published in The Island Word, September 2008) ©hanspetermeyer.ca / 2008