Dancing with everyone watching

Bellydancing led to my first adult recital and community of new friends

Backstage of my first adult dance recital at the 5-year anniversary of Temple of Dance in Tulsa.

Nearly four years ago, I shook my tailfeathers and called it a shimmie. That led my 50-year-old hips into following a figure eight form. Surprisingly, my torso moved into a wave that resembled something called an undulation.

The fusion bellydancing class at Temple of Dance in Tulsa wasn’t an activity I thought would stick. It was part of my ongoing list of trying new things. What I found was more than an exercise class.

Among the class are women living in the middle of life’s challenges and transitions: divorce, death of a spouse, medical problems, new marriages, empty nesting, new parenthood, new grandparenthood, full-time caregiving, changing jobs and all manner of things in between.

I didn’t know their stories at first. But as we returned each week to shake, shimmie, hip drop and squeeze our glutes, we let down our guards and built up one another. Some of the most interesting and strong women dance beside me each week.

This is about celebration — of movement and of each other.

Over time, those Saturday mornings became a type of therapy. My family knows not to plan or ask anything of me during those couple of hours. Of everything in the week, that is my time.

Much credit goes to the instructor, Amaryllis, for setting the tone. She sees beauty in all things and offers a drama-free (and politics-free) space. She leads excursions outside class. She invites us to meet for lunch, comedy shows, first Friday art crawls, live music, dancing and various festivals. She doesn’t view the class as a job. She turned it into a community.

Negativity is not allowed. Dancing here is not a competition. It’s not a place to judge others. It’s about acceptance and joy in movement. No experience necessary.

The class has helped my flexibilty and balance. More than that, it expanded my community and improved my mental health. When my life threw incredible stress my way, that class was a consistent outlet I needed.

Several adult dance troupes have come from the studio and occasionally it hosts events for class showcases — a kind of recital for grownups.

Never have I felt comfortable enough to join in those public dances. Public speaking is my second nature, but using my body in a performance horrifies me. My brain rarely lets me down while my body has given endless frustration and disappointment.

Dancing at a club with friends remains one of my favorite pastimes. That’s everyone joining in with whatever moves we have.

The notion of a being part of a choreography squad in front of strangers creates anxiety. That changed last week.

As the 5th anniversity of the Temple of Dance approached, several classes began practicing for its celebration with a mini-recital at the studio. Members in the fusion bellydancing class landed on three performances: one with swords, one with scarves and one traditional fusion mix. I bought the sword and scarf, leaving no excuses.

Every time I thought of dropping out, Amaryllis was there to cheer me on and talk me into staying. My daughter reminded me I can do hard things. I can face what scares me.

That’s how on Saturday, I put on a costume accented in red and took my spot in the dance formations. It was my first adult dance recital.

I didn’t nail every move, and I wasn’t the most captivating person on the floor. I’m not a graceful or pretty dancer. But the sword stayed on my head, the scarf floated as intended and I struck the final pose just right. It felt good to finish it.

Who knows whether I’ll do another one. But, if I get the chance to dance with the women who braved that show with me, I won’t be able to pass it up.

^{The above is the first 30 seconds of the dance with scarves. I’m not easily seen on the back row. But I’m there.}