Sunday, June 7, 2009

Dance, really.

A couple friends invited me to an open house at a dance studio yesterday. I must have been half conscious when I agreed because I quickly realized I had no work out pants except for my pajamas and I don't really dance. At all. I have no training and I really don't even watch other people dance much. I have the dance to "Thriller" down pretty well, but that's as far as I go. So I opted to just wear jeans and watch, but my friends talked me into joining in within five minutes of being there. We went to two classes: ballet and jazz. Ballet was easy enough. I struggled on some of the moves because after years of figure skating, my legs wanted to bend and push sideways. This does nothing productive when you're barefoot except make you look like an idiot.

At lunch we stopped at Target and I got some pants which made the day much better. As we walked through the skyway, my friend asked what I thought. I explained the skating thing and then talked about the similarities and differences I noticed between ballet and yoga.

Now, I'll be honest here: I love yoga. I said it was an interesting contrast because in yoga you are constantly described as plants or the air: "You are a tree growing tall in a field," "Feel the air move through you as your chest opens," "You are a blade of grass growing and swaying in the breeze." But in ballet they compare you to active things and machinery: "Imagine you are a plane, soaring through the air," "Imagine throwing your heavy bag in the air as you jump."

While we were learning the jazz routine, I quickly realized that I focused too much on stationary moves rather than moving from one to the next. After doing the routine in its entirety, I got up walked to the corner and mumbled, "Trees should not be jazz dancers."