I feel like they haven’t started properly yet, but life is no novel. These changes are a drizzle of rain, obscuring the vision of what I hoped to see. Before I know it, they become a torrent. Thunder pounds the ears as lightning illuminates the murky sky. “Why do I want to leave the studio? This has been the only dance-home I’ve known. (That rhyme was unintentional.) I can tough it out until it gets better, right?” My doubts have their say, but my more logical half interjects.
We’ve been over the reasons already. Though the torrent is disruptive and even painfully unpleasant, it will recede. It will return to the drizzle it was in the beginning before stopping entirely.
To refresh, I auditioned for one of two Bachata teams on February 21st. I made the beginner team, Bachata Fury. I attended my first rehearsal on March 6th. Rehearsals are three hours, two of choreography and one of technique. It wasn’t too taxing. Sadly, I was sorer than I’d been in a long time. I had trouble traversing the stairs. What was worse was my neck. Apparently, there’s a way to whip your hair without hurting yourself. For the record, I wasn’t reckless with it. Here’s hoping our directors, Dio and Stacie, teach the proper way during that hour of technique soon.
Dancing aside, I’m loving everything so far. It reminds me of all the wonderful times I had with my friends in school. We’re a group of competent dancers with a smattering of individual talents. We laugh and goof just as much as we rehearse and are inclined to having the stupidest of conversations. I adore the juxtaposition of serious focus and frequent immaturity. It reminds me of a quote:
Don’t take life too seriously; no one gets out alive anyway.
Back to the ballroom, I’ve had more lessons with Eddie. The past two have been focused on Silvery elements, such as continuity. My last was Rhythm. It wasn’t my best, emotionally speaking. I want to compete in Nine-Dance someday. I’m on top of my game for Waltz, Foxtrot, Tango, Viennese, Cha-cha, Rumba, and ECS. But, I’m behind in Bolero because there’s only so many dances I can do with my very limited budget. I never did much Mambo. It didn’t help when he brought up another talented, more financially able student that’s been doing both longer than me. I felt like I was behind, my goal too far. Yes, my ego is fragile. Yes, I do occasionally wrestle with an inferiority complex.
Part of the changes coming in this next chapter include my new perspective on ballroom. Without a doubt, natural talent and hard work are cornerstones. Yet, I’ve realized that the third, for me personally, is money. I’m aggressive. I desire to compete as much as possible, take as many coaching lessons as I can, and bask in the perks the studio would give me if I spent a ridiculous amount of money. I can’t see myself doing any of that. Pro-am is a sport for the wealthy. Even if I made the money, would it be worth it? I have no desire to be a world champion. A dance field trip would be nice because that’s how Arthur Murray treats their members of the Century Club. But, I’ve never been a big spender. I have no desire to have one hundred lessons on the books in advance with extra money spent on shows, showcases, etc. *Sigh* This is coming off more bitter than I’d wanted. I suppose I am a little bitter because of the expensive reality that is ballroom dancing. People told me many times, but it doesn’t hit home until you’re making your own money.
That’s why I’m happy with these changes, even if they scare me. I’m going to dance socially more. And I’ve already begun my efforts to search for a new studio in earnest. One of my co-worker’s father is a ballroom teacher. I need to talk to her about it more because she’s already brought it up several times. She’s in management, so I’ll have to wait for a break in the daily grind.
Let the changes continue.