The Why, The How

My last post inspired Mnthighmama and Tassili to ask me some very profound questions. I will attempt to address them here.

When I first met Tango, I was going through one of the darkest moments of my life. The relentless and seemingly unlearnable lessons of my life had taken their toll on yet another relationship. One that I had promised, before everyone I loved, would last forever. I was devastated not only by the reality of a failed marriage, but at the prospect of a long road paved with emotional failures that disappeared threateningly into the future.

Anyone who has read my book, The Tao of Tango, knows this story. From the depths of that despair, I was led to the portal of this extraordinary dance, through which I passed gladly, thoroughly and passionately, unprepared for the monumental removing of the wool that had clouded my eyes. When I had set out that fateful night, dressed as tango-y as I could imagine, I could never have foreseen that my life would be radically transformed, right then and there. In the very first moment, with the very first embrace.

The lessons I had struggled with my entire life? Trust. Surrender. Acceptance. No matter how I had tried, nothing had managed to make those conscious states real to me. I understood the concepts, but could simply not find a way to experience them in any but a most transitory way. And in that first Tango embrace I understood that the stillness of surrender was not "nothing".

Thus it was that the bridal me that was my "normal" died at the hands of my former self. That "normal" had ceased to be, and a new me was being created from the inside out, crafted and forged from the exotic and profound Tango teachings.

Scarcely a year later, when I had enjoyed a meteoric rise to tango recognition in my community, with fantasies and visions that we all entertain at one time or another, I was again brought to my knees. This time by a back injury that resulted in the loss of use of my left leg. Where one minute I had been on the short list of who to call for an exhibition, the next I was dragging my left leg behind me like a broken rag doll. Who I was, or more importantly, my dreams, and what I was capable of accomplishing in my Tango fantasy, were vaporized in an instant. Not only could I not dance, there was concern that I may not recover my ability to walk normally. Doctors predicted a 60% recovery.

But again, Tango reached into my soul and inspired it. Along with the tender ministrations of my then-partner, every day I would take one step further, first reaching my front door, then the sidewalk outside my house, then around the block. And when I could reasonably walk, he would come over and we would "dance". And I would cry because I could not do ANYTHING, much less pivot on my left leg. And he would just hug me and lead something without a pivot. And the lessons of trust and surrender were again reinforced and strengthened. Within 4 months, I had recovered enough feeling and strength in my leg to dance reasonably well. Within 6 months I was about 80% recovered. Today, I have but a 5% loss of use in my left leg.

Most recently, breast cancer not only threatened to end my tango, but also my life. And although I was simply not able to receive its strengthening and nurturing gifts during my treatment, the thought of going back kept my spirits high. I watched endless hours of YouTube Tango, read blogs, and continued my Tango connection psychically, if not physically. When I felt strong enough to venture forth, I was invited to participate in a cancer fundraising event. It was my first time on the dance floor in almost a year.

For each of these life-altering moments, there was a very real loss of my "normal" self, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. With my marriage, it was the loss of the self unable to let go enough to allow love. With my back, the loss physicality and the prospect of being an invalid for the rest of my life. With my cancer, I am still processing the loss, which thus far seems to surpass all the others combined. It is not only the physical obstacle of my shoulder, and the mental obstacle of my brain not functioning at even half its previous capacity, but also the loss of joy and inspiration in life. The previously exuberant and easily inspired me is no longer, and the new me has yet to manifest. The only thing I still have of my previous self, the one single thing that retains the exuberant joy of my lost self, is Tango. Thus, Tango has restored my heart, my body, and will, I expect, restore my spirit.

With each of these losses, something has always been gained. That is the way of the Universe. It is difficult to judge if what we receive is of equal value to that which we have lost. Since there is no choice in the matter, I receive what is given as a gift. But I do know we are not left with nothing. And even if it was nothing, as I have learned through Tango, nothing is not "nothing".

Patience, surrender, trust. Those are my life lessons. Lessons that I seem to need to learn over and over. And for which Tango has always been so perfectly suited. I cannot imagine my life without Tango. Even as I type those words, my eyes well up with tears and my heart contracts at the very thought of losing it. It is a very tough teacher, this Tango, rife with heartbreak lessons, egos, and disappointments. And I would not change a thing about it.

But I consider myself much more fortunate than many of my more recent Tango sisters. I came into it way before it was the extreme global phenomenon it is today. Way before the styles, and the Chichos and embraces and techniques, and matters of women leading. When taking classes was something you did briefly, just to get the hang of it, and then perfected what you knew on the dance floor. When the embrace and mutual delivery garnered far more respect and admiration than what you wore on your feet. When the matter of why men get to lead and women have to follow was not a call for feminist protestations.

Or perhaps it was just that I did not pay attention to any of those things. For me as a woman, Tango was absolutely perfect. I did not want to learn how to lead. Ever. The thought still holds no interest for me. The journey to surrender and all its implications is so complex and profound and so specifically me, that I could happily spend the rest of my life working on just that.

I have learned that the disappointments come from expectations. I have trained myself to have less of them. I have learned that I cannot be everyone's favorite. So what? I don't love dancing with everyone either. I have learned that there is no reason whatsoever why one night I am the belle of the ball and another not even a wallflower. It doesn't matter. Life, and Tango, go on. There is more to Tango than just dancing. And I love it all. Because there is also that extraordinary, indescribable, overwhelming, soul-satisfying embrace, and the devastatingly stirring music.

The pain, the disappointment, the immense feelings of vulnerability and invisibility - in each of these there is a profound personal lesson for me which I cannot duplicate anywhere else. But these fears are from blocks and issues that I wish to release. And I know I will eventually do so with my great master, the Tango.

Am I starting from scratch mtnhighmama? Yes, it feels that way. Why and how do I keep coming back to it, Tassili? Because I want to. Because I have to. Because it is my Way.