Dancing is Like Cooking

At least, to me it is. My definition of a good cook has always been someone who can grab whatever random ingredients are in the kitchen pantry, whatever odds and ends are in the fridge, and put together an absolutely delicious meal, without a recipe.

Dancing seems much the same – a good dancer, to me, is someone who can take a whole assortment of moves and put together something people find delightful to see.

The only difference is, you can’t just go to the supermarket and buy your pole dance moves.

Connection

What I aim for in pole dancing is that trusting confidence that comes from knowing your body is so familiar with these movements, so comfortable and at ease with the motion around the pole, that thought is no longer required. All that’s necessary is pure connection to the music, and the free-flowing joy of letting your feelings and passions move through you.

To me, dance doesn’t start until mastery has already taken place.

Maybe That Seems Harsh

But it isn’t.

I know I was belly dancing long before I had mastery of any of the moves. I did routines. I improv-ed. But the difference between that and the point I reached, much later on, when I could just give into my feelings and respond purely to the music, is so dramatic, that I have a hard time calling both “dance.”

Of course, I know that this wondrous final stage of dancing, in which you get to move so freely and uninhibitedly, only comes about from years of effort dancing and dancing and dancing, at whatever level you happen to be.

I know that. And I love seeing myself and all dancers, of any style, progress through that.

But I miss having that pure ability to move freely. Yes, I can still do that with belly dance, but belly dance doesn’t touch me the way pole dance does. It used to. But now I want that feeling, that cascade of motion and sureness, within pole dancing.

And I’m a long way off.

Practice, Practice, Practice

So I keep working on it. And practicing. And building strength.

And, mostly, I keep cutting myself some slack.

Because there’s no endpoint here – as long as I can move, I can keep working and improving. And the more moves I gain comfort with, the more I will find that freedom.

Because you don’t have to master every move in order to have that pure release of dance. You only have to master enough that your body doesn’t have to stop and pause, your mind doesn’t have to stop and think.

So, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe that purity of dance doesn’t have to come after years and years. Maybe, just maybe, it comes in stages.

Bit by bit, step by step.

Until one day you wake up, hear a song you love, and give in to the desire to move your body on the pole.

And you find your body is ready to meet you there – no holding back, no nervousness, no doubts.

Just pure exhilaration and love of dance.