I’ve pretty much been dancing since I could walk.  In some capacity.  In formal ballet classes, in just-for-fun hip hop classes, a little exotic belly dance here and there.  I kind of considered myself a natural – always confident, eager to be in the front at the barre, and the first across the floor en pointe.

Not so much yesterday.  Oh poi dance… you’re movements vex me.

I missed a class last week by accident, so I was already nervous going in last night, but Tierany assured me we were still just doing the same things over and over again.  The thing is, what the other students seemed to have mastered in class one, I was still completely perplexed by.  It was like they all had some magic flashlight of understanding, and I was left in the dark.

At the end of class, we all did little performances for each other.  I imagine it’s always nerve-wracking to get up in front of your peers to perform, but for me, this time, it was actually painful.  I felt so embarrassed; so put on the spot.  I felt my cheeks flaming and my stomach churning as I struggled to keep up with my dance partner, expertly swinging her socks in even planes. 

The thing is, on the other hand, it feels kind of good to be humbled like this.  I’m amazed that something so simple could put me so completely out of my comfort zone.  Even as I struggled through probably the easiest poi dance routine available, I somehow knew that there was growth to be found within my struggle.

When Tierany asked our class who would be back for the next session of poi dance, of course I said I would.  

Humbly yours,