Later Bloomer

Tripping Over the Light Fantastic: A Late Bloomer’s Tale

Guest post by Daniela Gitlin, who realizes in her 50s: "To dance, that’s the primal longing. And I didn’t know it. Or more accurately, had forgotten. Till now."
light-fantastic-vasnetsov-the-frog-tsarevna-1918

(I’m pleased to introduce Daniela Gitlin for this guest post.)

One belly dance performance and I was smitten. I fell like a load of dirt off the back of a dump truck. Forget being fifty. Forget my little insecurities. I had to do it.

Seven years later of twice a week classes, I’ve improved. Given I’m a geezer with no dance experience, that’s not saying much.

Still. I can do pretty hip drops, figure eights and hip circles, mostly on tempo. I can slide my ribcage side to side. I can pod my belly in and out, no problem. My arms are way better. But undulations, those snaky torso ripples that are so cool and so belly dancerish, no.

I’ll figure it out over the next decade. After that, I’ll take on walking while undulating, in time to the music. The project is worthy of deep thought, as fascinating an intellectual challenge as any. It’ll keep me busy in my old age.

In January, my teacher up-ended this retirement plan. She invited me to join her troupe as a junior member. Effective immediately.

I didn’t see it coming. But being mature, I blurted: “But. But. Am I good enough?”

Simultaneously, inside, a dancing child sprang out from under five decades of sludge and shouted, SHUT UP! She’ll change her mind! She’ll take it back!

That dancing child didn’t care it didn’t make sense. Her heart’s desire was affirmed.

And here I thought my heart’s desire was to write. Turns out, that’s a fairly recent aspiration, say three, maybe four decades old. To dance, that’s the primal longing. And I didn’t know it. Or more accurately, had forgotten. Till now.

My Self hissed, Way to go! Question the teacher!

A troupe member saved me, “Do you want to dance with us or not?”

Duh. “Yes!”

I can’t believe my good fortune and my new role in life: the slow one. Smarts are useless and words fail me. I am so lost. And found.

Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious. ~Brendan Gill {Tweet this}

danielaAbout Daniela

Among other things, I am a board certified psychiatrist. Hubby (also a board certified shrink), Son, Poodle Oodle and I live in a tiny rural town in upstate New York, just south of the Canadian border.

I practice tai-chi most mornings, but certainly not at 5 a.m. I’m all about fruits and veggies. I belly dance, sort of. And I’m seditious, a (former) secret closely guarded by my nearest and dearest with blackmail threats. Well, now you’ve read this, the word is out.

This article first appeared on Daniela’s excellent blog, Shrink Unwrapped: All About Plan Be. You can read more about her undulations here. Or, if you’re curious about how she became a shrink, she unwraps that here. I’m proud to call Daniela one of my earliest Internet friends. 

Opening Image: The Frog Tsarevna by Victor Vasnetsov (1918)

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