I remember hearing a story about a writer who woke up one morning and found that his morning newspaper and all the books on his shelves were written in a foreign language. In an alphabet he had never seen before.
What actually happened is that while he was sleeping, he had a stroke and he could no longer read.
It took him nine years, but he eventually “taught” himself to read again by sounding out each letter by using his tongue to touch his teeth in a certain way that helped him be able to remember the letter and spell words.
It was one of those remarkable stories that often comes back to me. First the mystery of the strange alphabet, then the creativity, determination and patience it took for him to be able to read and write again.
Tonight I have my second Belly Dancing class. I’ve been practicing during the week, trying to move my hands and arms and hips all at the same time, all in rhythm with each other.
I’m not close to making that happen.
But I do think I have the hand movement down.
As long as I’m only moving one hand at a time.
And very slowly. I can move one hand in conjunction with the movement of my hips, while my other hand stay frozen in the air. I can’t even remember how I’m supposed to move my arms so I haven’t practiced that.
I’ve also been consciously loving my belly and trying to stand and walk with a dancers attitude (when I remember).
And I’m trying to work up the courage to wear the choli that Kitty gave me. (That’s the little bra-like top.) It would be like I’d be wearing a bikini top with short sleeves and a skirt with my bare belly for all the world (or the class anyway) to see.
And if I do that, maybe I’ll wear one of the hip scarves Kitty gave me. (The one without the coins, I don’t want to have to be thinking about the sound my hips are making yet. I’ll have enough to think about.) Mostly because it looks really pretty on the skirt and gives me a boost of confidence.
So I was thinking about that writer this morning. About his determination and patience and creativity. And how they can be applied to my Belly Dancing.
What if I told myself I have as long as it takes to learn these dance moves. That as long as I’m still enjoying it and getting something out of it, I’ll keep at it.
I can actually imagine, after nine years of practice and work, my being able to move my hips, legs, hands and arms in a certain way, all at the same time. And that idea is strangely encouraging to me.