Interesting analogy albeit a bit crude. But that's really it isn't it? Finding the voice of the follower in a very male led dance.
http://alextangofuego.blogspot.sg/2007/09/fuck-me-back.html
The longer I develop in it, the more I see parallels. Tango reminds me much of the cycle of life, we start out totally dependent on someone, find our own footing and grounding and then revert back to the basics once again.
Sitting in a table with family, at twelve o clock sat the senior ladies chattering about old times and anything and everything and at six o clock sat the under 10's, playing rock paper scissors and making a racket. There we were, somewhere in between, literally and figuratively.
Flashback to the two leads I had, one a complete mess, footwork all over the place, charting his own territory (in a not very good way) and obviously he could be dancing with a puppet the way he was dancing. I didn't need to be there. The other, strong, powerful, musical, but the moment you do not realise where your follower is, is the moment that you are only dancing for yourself. Nicely. But still, you might as well be that same guy charting his own territory (in a not very good way)
A challenge? Yes, but I have come to the point where I know my own limitations and what I can and cannot do. But aren't we always continually doubting ourselves? I do wonder sometimes when faced with challenges and a lead that is more advanced, or 'harder to follow' whether it is just me, whether I'm the one who just cannot handle his level. The stronger he is, the more my flaws start manifesting themselves and the more I trip or end up kicking him, or in this case, ending the molinete beyond his foot =P. But as the years pass and as I put in my own homework and miles on the floor, so do I realise that the best leaders aren't the ones who have the nicest or the best moves. It's the one who can wrap his dance around you like hot chocolate on a winters night, comforting, soothing. Home.
So I ponder, do I rise to the challenge, or accept that sometimes you click, sometimes you don't. Sometimes the magic happens, and sometimes you're left with the nagging voice at the back telling you, you're a disaster. Or he's a disaster. Or your feet hurt. Or the music sucks. Any excuse.
Times like these call for a deep breath, a smile, and the gratitude to always, try, try again.
http://alextangofuego.blogspot.sg/2007/09/fuck-me-back.html
The longer I develop in it, the more I see parallels. Tango reminds me much of the cycle of life, we start out totally dependent on someone, find our own footing and grounding and then revert back to the basics once again.
Sitting in a table with family, at twelve o clock sat the senior ladies chattering about old times and anything and everything and at six o clock sat the under 10's, playing rock paper scissors and making a racket. There we were, somewhere in between, literally and figuratively.
Flashback to the two leads I had, one a complete mess, footwork all over the place, charting his own territory (in a not very good way) and obviously he could be dancing with a puppet the way he was dancing. I didn't need to be there. The other, strong, powerful, musical, but the moment you do not realise where your follower is, is the moment that you are only dancing for yourself. Nicely. But still, you might as well be that same guy charting his own territory (in a not very good way)
A challenge? Yes, but I have come to the point where I know my own limitations and what I can and cannot do. But aren't we always continually doubting ourselves? I do wonder sometimes when faced with challenges and a lead that is more advanced, or 'harder to follow' whether it is just me, whether I'm the one who just cannot handle his level. The stronger he is, the more my flaws start manifesting themselves and the more I trip or end up kicking him, or in this case, ending the molinete beyond his foot =P. But as the years pass and as I put in my own homework and miles on the floor, so do I realise that the best leaders aren't the ones who have the nicest or the best moves. It's the one who can wrap his dance around you like hot chocolate on a winters night, comforting, soothing. Home.
So I ponder, do I rise to the challenge, or accept that sometimes you click, sometimes you don't. Sometimes the magic happens, and sometimes you're left with the nagging voice at the back telling you, you're a disaster. Or he's a disaster. Or your feet hurt. Or the music sucks. Any excuse.
Times like these call for a deep breath, a smile, and the gratitude to always, try, try again.
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