While I am very appreciative of the Beauty and Grace inherent in my life as a Single lady, the realization this week of a very necessary skill, still missing from my relationship toolbox, was anything but.
At the very end of a two day back-in-the-party-girl-saddle-again-extravaganza I followed one of my favorite Goddess girlfriends Ina Church to The Century Ballroom for a salsa night last call.
As my friend was whipped from one set of talented feet to another (this proved to be the longest last call in Seattle
Truthfully, I would have been content for once to watch from the sidelines. Sara and I had just finished a very late and very large dinner (hey, a girl’s gotta eat.) I was wearing way too much clothing all around, these boots were not meant for spinning. And while I have been a dancing fool plenty of late, it’s been many years since I last danced salsa and a few years since I participated in partner dancing of any sort.
But hell, I’m nothing if I’m not game.
And here is where the learning began. About half way through the first number I decided to state the obvious, “Tony, you may have noticed that I have a serious problem.”
He smiled and nodded politely, “Yes, just a small one.”
“Yeah, it turns out that I have never really learned to let a man lead…”
‘Yes… I can see that.”
To his credit, Tony did not give up. As the Universe would have it he’s a dance instructor so I can only imagine I am not the first wild pony he’s been charged to tame.
Tony let me make a real mess out there for the last few songs, all the while whispering in my ear.
“I can take you through every fantastically sexy step in the book but not if you keep fighting me.”
“See that, you are following just fine, then bam! You take off on your own!”
“You are the Queen! It is my job to make you look amazing… let me.”
And even though I had a seriously difficult time letting him spin me without hurling, I clumsily progressed through enough numbers to at least learn what it is I still have to learn.
On the long drive home, after watching my girl just killing it out on the floor, I admitted to this decidedly unfeminine shortcoming.
“Oh,” said Sara, “I had the same problem when I started. I was so afraid I was going to fall I just couldn’t trust any of them. I had to stay in complete control at all times. Then I met Johnny, Johnny Bravo. Sunglasses at night, a fur coat, skinny jeans and heeled boots. I became his little darling and he showed me the way.”
And I must say, what girl would imagine being able to control anything that looked like that?
Sara claims that, “Now, just letting go, fully surrendering to it, is the most fun I can have.”
I realized as we talked that, while I'm not so much afraid of falling, I am very much determined to know what step is coming next. You know, so I can be sure we get it right.
Trust you to take care of it? I don’t think so. Just let me in on it before hand, then I can be sure you know AND I will know too. Aren’t two heads better than just one?
When I put it like that, it sounds insane. It’s DANCING for crying out loud. Talk about taking all the fun and adventure out of it.
And the relationship correlations that follow are too many to list here.
This is not surprising since most of my long term relationships have been with individuals that I never fully trusted to take me anywhere safe or fun.
And if my old adage “you do it, like you dance” is true I am in some serious trouble.
I was reminded of the one time I was successful in allowing a man to lead me out on the floor.
We were finally alone after leaving a wedding reception and we’d been drinking for hours. He turned on one of his favorite tracks and just started whipping me around the kitchen floor.
And here’s the important part, I let him.
I was very much in love, complete surrender. I let go and let him. Who cared what steps came next, I was totally in.
As Sara sagely observed, “The best part of Salsa is that you can be sure that the man knows the steps. Otherwise he wouldn’t have asked you to dance in the first place.”
Oh, right.
