Bellydance Changes Lives

I love this picture.  This is me just about to do my first solo performance, clowning around with my travel mates who were all ready to go and support me.  The dance technique in this photo is questionable, but the joy is real.

Before bellydance, this picture would not have been possible.  To appear in front of camera-wielding people with nothing covering my abdomen or my upper arms?  And to spin around in front of them while laughing my face off? Unfathomable.

This is just one of the many ways bellydance has changed my life.  I've written about it before in this blog -- how it launched me into a freer exploration of the world around me, how it showed me the way to letting go, how it reopened the door to my other creative loves.

Later this week, troupe and I will be dancing at a festival in fabulous Las Vegas.  Dancing.  In public. For an audience.  In frickin' Vegas.  The me of 5 years ago would not recognize this woman, but she would want to know her.  Thanks to bellydance, I not only know this woman, I am her.

It's not been all flickery sunshine and dancing on rainbows, to be sure.  I've been clawing my way out of a pretty difficult dance rut lately, trying to find more moments of fun than frustration.  Even in the rut, though, I look at this picture and know that my life has changed.

And I have a short number of days and hours to drill some choreography and pack my bag.  Viva Las Vegas.

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Should you be so inclined to support your local blogger and her dance sisters, here's a message from the troupe:

Help Send Zahara Fusion to VEGAS, Baby!

Zahara Fusion, the student troupe out of Hip Circle Studio, is headed out on their first out-of-state performance adventure to the Las Vegas Bellydance Intensive - a festival that pulls dancers in from all over the country! Taking advantage of this great opportunity requires airfare, lodging, costuming, and more. Get in on the action by participating in our fundraiser! Here's the deal...

Donate $10 or more and receive a limited-edition "Bellydance Changes Lives" magnetic bumper "sticker" designed by our very own Desiree!

Donate $50 or more and receive, in addition to the bumper "sticker", an invite to our After-Vegas Bash, scheduled for Sunday, 9/20 from 7:30-9:30 pm featuring nibbles, sips, and a display of our set from Vegas (live or via video, TBD).

Donations can be made in cash in-studio, or via credit card here. (you'll specify the amount)

Thanks so much for helping this Vegas magic happen!

Pictures of You

I am at my mother's house, and on the walk down the hall to retrieve my book, I saw it.  A last remaining picture of myself and the Ex together.  It's a small picture, tucked up on a top shelf of a tall bookcase, and shows the two of us standing together outside the door of the first home we purchased together.  The door is heavy, dark and old.  The place was a vintage condo in a beautifully maintained building and it was on the very edge of what we could afford.  I remember a brief panic when we made the decision to buy it -- I was freaked out by the absolute permanence of ownership and mortgages and all that.

In the picture, I am dressed in the way I dressed for much of my life -- to hide.  A long skirt just a smidgen too big for me, and over it a man's shirt that was so large the fabric only touched my body at the shoulders and from there hung in billows over me.  I am holding a man's suit coat in my hand -- of a similar size to the shirt.  I have one hand on the door, my body is angled toward the Ex and I am smiling freely.  I know why -- because I felt utterly safe.  The frightening permanence of home ownership very quickly got rolled up into the absolute comfort of stability.  A place to live, a stable job at a large company, a partner to share this life with, clothes that covered me absolutely -- it was all part of my need to be and feel protected.

The moment that picture was taken, I thought I couldn't be any happier.  When I saw that picture today, I paused to take it in and remember myself as I was then.  I have a deep affection for that young woman, but I am so glad that I am miles away from her now.  Not only have I (mostly) gotten rid of the ill-fitting sacks I used to wear, but I am decidedly not safe in the way I used to define it.  Renting a place, working for myself, with no partner (yet) to help me with any of it.  In my life now I am more open to being hurt (emotionally, financially, mentally) than I ever have been.  But I am so much happier than that young woman.

At least I am today. Sitting on my mother's back porch watching butterflies and bumble bees cavort in her unbelievable garden, I am happier.  And, unlike the young woman in that picture, today I know that this moment is enough.  So I will celebrate it.