My Tribe

Three weeks ago, I started taking belly dance lessons at the yoga studio where I did my teacher training.  They've had belly dance there for awhile, and I often got to watch the beginning of the class when I was leaving yoga, and thought it looked like fun.  It was just too much to try during teacher training, so I waited.  This session worked out for me, so I signed up, just for fun.  I have tried to have no expectations.  I have no dreams of performing or  teaching belly dance, or anything like that.  This is just for me.  My one goal for the ten weeks is to be able to shake my hips, and have something actually shake. 

After tonight's lesson, I am feeling pretty good.  My hips are actually starting to move.  This is amazing to me.  I have some friends who have what I call "swivel hips".  Those are the hips that seem to just slide from side to side and up and down with no effort.  These are people who can dance to salsa music.  My hips are whatever the opposite of swivel hips is.  Static hips, maybe?  So when I pushed my hip out today and I could actually see it move, I wanted to cry with joy.  If they are starting to move after three weeks, maybe after ten I will be able to shake them.  If I can, look out, I'll be hitting the dance floor.

We also worked on chest lifts today.  Chest lifts may be my downfall.  I can do them just fine.  We lift our chest in yoga all the time, opening across the heart.  I can't do them as fast as my teacher yet, but I'll get it.  The problem is that I lift my chest, and nobody will ever notice.  When the other women lift their chests, they get to show off their cleavage.  I have no cleavage.  At 40 years old, and after two kids, I'm still an A cup.  I don't bother with things like push-up bras, because there's nothing to push up.  I will have to resign myself to knowing I am lifting my chest and nobody can see it.  One day I may have to stuff some socks in there, just to see what it would look like.

The great thing about this belly dance class is the other women in the group.  Everyone is just doing whatever they can do.  Nobody cares what anyone else is doing, we just do our thing together.  Our teacher says women who belly dance together become a tribe.  I can see why.  We are sharing in something that is ultimately feminine.  Belly dancing started as a means for women to strengthen their child birth muscles.  It is a true expression of female power.  Women who dance together bond in something that can never be shared with men.  All the men can do is watch, which I suspect is okay with most men anyway.

For the next seven weeks, I'll be dancing with my tribe on Thursday nights.  At the end, if my hips shake, I may buy myself one of those jingly hip scarves to celebrate.  I'll keep you posted.