For most people, Mondays are the worst days. This is when the working week starts, and after two days of resting, relaxing, and having fun, the reality of an adult life hits back again. Boring meetings, nagging deadlines, countless emails, horrible bosses, colleagues, employees, angry clients. You name it! But for me, Tuesdays are the days that I fear the most. And on my own making!
In September I signed up for belly dance classes. A good friend of mine was taking them a few years ago and I went to see her graduation performance. I loved it, but at that time I was never seeing myself doing belly dance. Especially in public. After my spine surgery, however, I started looking for new ways to mobilize my body and release back tension that I often feel. I remembered that my friend used to praise those classes for pain relief in her lower back, so once I was back in Barcelona I decided to give it a try. And then the nightmare started.
These classes represent most of my biggest fears in life.
Fear # 1: not being capable of learning something. As an adult, I have proven to myself that I can learn new skills. Swimming, skiing, foreign languages, asanas in yoga, various skills at work just to name a few. Nevertheless, every time I'm facing a new learning challenge, after the first 10-20 minutes, a voice in my head starts saying: 'Forget about it! You're not capable of doing it! You've been trying and what? You still can't do a thing!'. The voice in my mind (or technically speaking my mind itself) is actually expecting my body to learn a new thing in minutes. Minutes! How insane is that!? But you know what the worst thing is? I would often listen to that voice and believe it. And this is crazy!
Fear # 2: During my belly dance classes, we're learning routines prepared by my teacher. In June, at the end of the year, we're supposed to present them in public. For some, still unexplored, reason I believe I cannot memorize steps. I go to zumba classes and I'm perfectly fine with following the trainer, but remembering the whole routine? Usually, the voice starts talking again: 'So you are able to follow the steps while looking at someone, but not to remember them. Y punto! Accept the reality'. What happens next is that I actually cannot learn the routine! Every week I repeat the same belly moves and still have to look at my teacher or classmates ninety percent of the time. It makes me feel so ridiculous. The voice says: 'I told you so!'
Belly dance is not the first time I've heard the voice. I remember hearing it during my first stand-up paddle experience. After exactly 10 minutes of not being able to stand straight on the board, I broke into tears. I cried, complained, and got really fussy. Luigi, who was with me (and in the exact same situation), had to comfort me like a kid. And then I actually did stand up! And I did not fall into the water even once during many months and hours of paddling. Meanwhile, Luigi fell into sea time after time that day. And he always pulled himself back on the board and tried again. And again. Like an adult. I feel that he still hates me a bit for that initial drama because he never wants to try SUP with me again.
If I dig deeper into my memory I recall the same voice talking to me since I was a teenager. That I was not good at acrobatic classes when I was 12 because I was not flexible enough. Yep, as an adult, I know that this is where you develop your flexibility, but back then I didn't ask my parents to sign me up.
In 2011 and 2012 I was living in a small surfers' town on the Pacific coast of Ecuador. I was in a relationship with a surfer, hence had daily access to a surfing board and a private teacher. A friend of ours gave me a longboard, so I could learn even more quickly. So I would grab the board and go practice. Not far from the shore, where the beach break was, just in the white-water. The voice was coming with me too. Saying that I was not meant for surfing because I was not cool enough. That I was not a good swimmer and I would most likely fall badly, hit my head and drown. That I was not meant for surfing and I would never be a good fit for my boyfriend. And more crap like this. The voice never failed me. One day, after over 50 attempts and still not being able to ride a wave another friend of ours said: 'It looks like either you're really scared or you really do not want to stand on that board'. The voice nodded to both. And I stopped trying, the voice convinced me that I was not good enough. And this is how my story with surfing ended. At least back then, when I still thought that the voice and I were one.
Fear # 3, 4,5,6, and 7: My belly dance classes trigger another huge fear of mine. A fear to perform in front of others. Behind that fear are other little fears. Fear of failing others and make them look silly. Fear of failing myself. Fear of being judged. Fear of proving to myself that I'm not capable of learning. To be honest I often wonder when all those fears built up inside my mind. I remember loving to perform in front of others when I was 10. We would prepare short shows with my cousins and repeat them again and again in front of our parents. Day after day. I also remember acting in short school plays when I was 11-12 and enjoying being on stage. I wish I felt that way 25 years later.
Fear # 8 and 9: I'm the weakest one in our class. Most of my classmates have been practicing for 2-3 years and they do know the moves. Their hips, waists, and chests move independently. They seem to have great control over their bodies. And they do memorize the routines easily. At least from my perspective!
I know the motivation theory behind my case. Our human intrinsic motivation is higher and we learn more quickly when a task is not too easy, but not too difficult - when we perceive it as moderate. So feeling constantly like a loser who is making a fool of herself in every class has made me want to quit many times. And each time I've convinced myself that belly dance is exactly what I need in my life. I have pushed myself to the edge of my comfort zone and stayed there. Breathing. Moving. Just like in yoga.
But every Tuesday is a struggle. I wake up feeling uneasy, I know what is coming. Around 4 pm I start looking for excuses not to go. Sore throat, few more emails at work (this lost its power since I stopped working), lack of belly dance clothes (it took me 5 months of excuses to finally buy them last week). Any reason or form of procrastination is good. Last Tuesday I almost didn't go again, because of the first coronavirus case in Barcelona. The voice had a strong argument. But I did go.
Recently I learned about the conscious and unconscious mind and energy flow between them during a mindfulness retreat. Basically, when you decide to do something outside of your comfort zone, which your conscious mind believes is good for you (like practicing sports, changing your diet to a healthier one or making the first step to know a person you like), your subconscious mind evaluates that action immediately. And if your subconsciousness sees it as something not good for you (as you might be judged or never achieve the result you are looking for), you have only a few seconds to actually take the action. Few seconds to use your energy, your will to follow your conscious mind. And this energy will build up and help you to repeat the action in the future. Otherwise, the energy will feed your subconscious and you will not do what you intend to. And the next time you will feel even less motivated to do take that action. And this is where the vicious circle starts. I mean it all makes sense. We've all been there. We've all heard that the first step is the hardest one. How tough is it to go back to the gym (or on the mat) after a break, and later not being able to live without exercise? How hard is it sometimes to incorporate healthier foods and later on craving for them like crazy? The energy we move toward a conscious decision lays behind all this.
So last Tuesday after the belly dance I asked myself why? Why am I doing this to myself? Going through all that struggle? Is it only about the health of my spine? The answer came to me 24 hours later. It was in another dancing class that I'm taking. I started lindy hop classes in January. Behind that decision was the desire to dance with Luigi. To share something that involves movement, no talking, and would be fun for both of us. He has been dancing for a few years now and is pretty good at it. I'm still a beginner, but I seem to learn steps quite quickly (not having to memorize too much and only having to follow my partner makes it a lot easier). So at the end of the class, our teacher played a completely unrelated song by Sigala, Ella Eyre. And it goes like this: "You got that something sweet that don't come easily, it's what I need tonight. I came here for love!" Oh yes, I did! And not only to the class! Not only to lindy hop or belly dance class! And I don't mind how cliché it might sound. I came to this world for love! To learn how to give it to myself and others. And how to receive it. To feel love. And dancing is love. Movement is love. So each action I take toward love is worth the struggle.
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