dancing in the grey
What is it about the Argentine tango…
I made it out last night for a few turns on the dance floor. I do love to be embraced by a good smelling man, in a suit no less sans the tie. And the spins and change of direction of a quick waltz delight me every time. To dance with someone else, really dance..is a gift. I felt lucky last night, only good dances. I didn’t stay too long, having had my fortune early, I left on the good note.
As I made my long way back to the car, I couldn’t help but think about what it is to be a woman alone. I can choose my comings and goings, moving through the world at my own pace. Most of the choices I have made in my life have been necessarily influenced by others. As a mother, a wife, a leader, an employee..whatever..my actions have followed a path that was often laid clearly out before for me. Black and white. As a single woman, there is much more grey.
There is a lot of grey in tango; it is often used as a metaphor for life. The roles of lead and follow are easily defined and equally permeable. The best dances have nothing to do with technique and everything to do with connection. A conversation really. The best of which is open ended, with no agenda other than being in the dance. Often I feel awkward off the dance floor, waiting patiently in a chair off to side hoping for that glance, the invitation. Sometimes the waiting is unbearable, every insecurity magnified. It is there that being alone is palpable, and the grey becomes stark and I feel obviously solitary.
I choose my singleness right now though. I am desperate to know what it is to be unattached…not only to someone, but to anything. I have emptied my plate of many responsibilities and distractions to be here right now and know this freedom. I am often misunderstood for my choice, and this has caused me to question my motivations as well as my endurance. Freedom often feels lonely. But I have been far lonelier. I am always dancing in the grey of my emotions and my actions…it isn’t always easy to live with oneself. The best of things are often not easy.