Just For Fun

I took up tap dancing a few years ago as a fun way to both socialize and keep my body active. It is a most challenging endeavor - not the social part; I’ve met some terrific like-minded individuals, but rather, mastering the coordination to make my feet produce the sounds I want them to. It’s incredibly satisfying when I get the steps right and really feel like I'm dancing. I sure wish I started when I was a kid, but, as they say, better late than never.

Feeling that at this stage of my life time is running out to get really good at this, I decided to step up my efforts and enroll in an improvisation class in addition to my choreography classes, and I am finding it tremendously difficult and anxiety-provoking. We are learning to listen to music and use our feet as instruments, filling in the beat with steps of our own choosing. Several times during the class, we go around the circle and each of us takes a few solo bars. As much as I marvel at our teacher’s masterful talent, and that of a couple of the advanced students in class, I also hate revealing my skills, or lack thereof. Our teacher has been wonderfully supportive and encouraging, but I’m just not buying his praise. Since the first week, I haven’t once looked forward to attending class, but I’ve  persevered, thinking that it’s good for me, it’s going to make me a better person and dancer,  and it’s therapeutic to deal with my anxiety and negative self-talk.

In group therapy last week, we were discussing the topics of “stories we tell ourselves about ourselves” and subsequent avoidance behaviors. Somehow, I felt it appropriate to disclose this personal experience to the group, and the response was enlightening. What happened to connecting with my values? While learning, commitment, and discipline are important to me, what about FUN? Isn’t that the primary reason why I took up dancing in the first place? If our hobbies aren’t enjoyable, then really, why bother?

I am giving myself permission to withdraw from the class, guilt free. I gave it a good try and it just doesn’t work for me. That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me, rather, like a size-too-small pair of jeans, it doesn’t fit. No doubt I’ll be trying on something else soon.

Thanks, Recovery Girls – I am grateful for the lesson.

With Love,

Ellen

Questions? Comments? Email This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it