A month later I'm still dancing. Now up to 3 times a week, two one-hour classes each trip. Salsa 2, samba, cha cha 2, and cha cha shines. I'm totally engaged. Still not that good, but good enough to be intrigued and motivated. I go because it makes some sense. It's exhilarating. It makes me laugh. But also because it's a challenge. Some things are a challenge with no payoff. I spent eight years of my childhood skiing and hated every second of it. I spent much of my high school years sailing and gardening. Neither took. Dancing is just the right amount of challenge for me, like with yoga and pilates. I have to work but the payoff is both immediate and rewarding over time. These disciplines remind me of how differently our brains function. Some things I get so quickly. Movement isn't one of them. I have to concentrate. I need a lot of repetition. But once I get it, a whole new world opens up. This is still outside my comfort zone but I'm enjoying it so much I keep going. Mondays, Thursdays, Saturdays. It cuts into my movie going time. But it's the priority for this moment. This feels like what I need to be doing. It feels like a wake up call.
I'm clearly a regular now. I see the same faces week after week. We smile in recognition and pleasure. Still barely know names from our name tags, and definitely don't know anything else. The conversation remains solely on the moves and helping each other get better. The better dancers inspire me. I really don't know how long it'll take for me to look good. I get the steps, I keep good time. I need more time to get the attitude and style.