Soft Chewy Center

Me at three

  When I was four I asked my mom’s boyfriend what he thought
  about death.  I guess I scared off a few of those guys, because Mom
  didn’t remarry until I was 11! Good thing because I loved my
  stepdad and he could handle the questions. Someone dear to me is
  facing the cancer journey and death is on my mind again. The
  thing about remembering my impermanence is that it keeps me in
  touch with my soft chewy center. We have a tendency to grow hard
  shells of protection, which may serve to get us through the day,
  especially in a culture that does not encourage us to express our
  deeper emotions.  I happen to be lucky, because as a counselor I get
  to be in touch with my soft chewy center all day long. In the heart space connection is welcome. Granted, it’s not always comfortable. Our tendency is to want to fix it - make the feeling or behavior go away. We ask (ourselves and others): “Why did you do that? Why can't I get this right?” But it’s not the “why’s” that help us, but the “what’s.”

“What’s going on right now?” “What are you feeling?” “Tell me what this brings up for you?”

Hwy 93

Part of the reason people avoid emotion is because the first thing that comes up is anger. You’ll see this on the road. There is a sense that if we let our feelings out, we will lose control, or things won't get accomplished. I hear my inner critic that I call Nasty: “Buck up. Pull it together. You should be so much farther along by now. There’s no time for contemplation. It’s time to ACT.” Nothing is really wrong with these statements, but the trouble is that when we power past deeper emotions that hold us trapped and stuck – it’s like we’re a fly pinned to a board at the thorax and flapping our wings.

The fields of Niwot

  Underneath the anger is a frightened
  child asking to be given voice, to be acknowledged in a world that is quick
  to give an answer and shut us down. The sad and scared child gets fed up
  and ends up stuck in a perpetual road rage tantrum. When the child is seen
  and heard and healed, she can focus and charge ahead, accomplishing
  goals in half the time because she is not hauling around a heavy board.

  Asking our emotions to stay put in the corner is like asking a two year old
  to sit still in a toy store; they’re bound to act out – whether it comes out as
  angry driving or body pain. It’s a lot easier to access these feelings in the
  presence of a loving witness – a counselor or coach trained in techniques
  that will help you not only feel, but also to calm down and heal. The more
  issues from the past clear out, the more resourced your body feels, which allows blood flow to the thinking brain and  decreases explosive outbursts.

A soft chewy center invites profound joy and deep connection with others.

A Tail Between my Legs; A Rose Between my Teeth

What do you think when I mention: “Oneness,” “The Unknown,” or “The Other.” Spirituality? Heidegger? Perhaps, but no: Argentinean tango. There is no more sensual way to learn about how you engage with the Other than to tango. The leader indicates – with his or her heart – and the follower listens with her heart, trusting implicitly; both hearts open and willing to connect.

Yesterday I found myself telling a partner: “Why don’t you lead me straight back a while so I can feel my heart.” But he didn’t. He kept taking me again and again into the front cross step and several moments of puzzlement, I realized I liked it. I surrendered. He is not all that experienced – this is a beginner’s class after all – but he knew what he wanted, which makes him a good leader.

“Sorry,” he said at one point when he gave me a physical double message and I stumbled.

“It’s okay,” I replied. “You have the harder job.”

“What’s that?” he asked, “Making a woman happy?”

I laughed. “Yes. Good luck.” The adorable, young guy was one step ahead of me.

To the untrained eye, it might look like I go to tango just to be held in the firm arms of young and old men alike. Well, okay that’s not such a bad side benefit, but what I’m learning is it’s not about sex. I take that back. It can be about sex if you and a committed partner are seeking another way to tap the sacred, but ultimately it’s about discovering the heart of the Other in a safe environment. Yes, Heidegger, it’s about a “way of being in the world.”

Brian Dunn and Deb Sclar, our fearless leaders, explain that in Argentina, in general, people are more comfortable being physically close. When they hug it is a bear hug, a warm and solid embrace. In America people – especially relative strangers – don’t hug or, if they do, often they hug tentatively. Brian and Deb demonstrate their American version of the hug and it looks clinical, like perhaps they should be wearing turtlenecks and scrubs. They explain that each dance is an opportunity to fall in love with the stranger across from you, no matter if they are the same sex as you or not. The emphasis is on connecting – physically and emotionally – with the Other, and on taking responsibility to step into the assigned role of leader or follower. I look forward to the day when I’m not thinking as much and can flow with the process.

The first lesson, I attended with my friend, Seth. I was looking straight into his playful hazel eyes.

“I think you’re supposed to be looking at my heart,” he remarked.

Being that following comes so naturally to me, I replied: “No, I think I can look anywhere I want to.”

Within seconds Deb announced that followers are supposed to “look at the leader’s heart, no matter his height. That way the women’s neck remains unbroken and long.” It definitely improved my concentration. Then, we were asked to switch roles. Seth looked down. “Oh wow,” he teased, “You know I am not looking at your breasts.”

“Yes, I know. They happen to be close to my heart.”

Every five minutes or so, followers rotate counterclockwise, moving to a new leader and a new experience.

Yesterday was my third lesson. Dancing with a more experienced partner is wonderful. Robert’s cues are gentle but clear and we glided easily between the parallel step and cross step system. I knew exactly where to step and it was powerful. There are no words exchanged, but strong intention and connection. On my next rotation I met Saunder. It was his first time possibly doing any form of dance whatsoever, and when the music began it was as though his computer had crashed; he was frozen. My eyes drifted up to his face and I thought perhaps I would be forced to shout: “Get this man an oil can, quick!” But then, he leaned and slowly his left foot moved to replace my left foot. Creak. The instructor noticed our immobility. I was thinking, “Yes, please help the poor guy.”

But Brian, the instructor, addressed me. “Do you do other forms of ballroom?” It didn't sound like this was a compliment.

“No.” I replied.

“So you always stand like that?” There must be some mistake, I am thinking. Saunder’s the tin man.

I didn't know whether to fold my arms or put my hands on my hips. “Stand like how?”

“Upright. Like if I were to cast you in a movie, you’d be Superwoman ready to take off.” I looked at him blankly. Didn’t he know? I had to be prepared. You never knew when I might have to don my cape and kill evil villains with my spikes. “Relax!” he translated.

“Okay,” I replied with my tail between my legs. Let me tell you, it’s not easy dancing with a tail between your legs!

So Saunder and I started again. We were moving, slowly, but we were moving. Brian was watching. I relaxed.

“Wait,” he interrupted us again. “Why are you leaning back?” I leaned forward. “No. Don’t do it with your head. Lean in with your heart. It’s not about your back. You’re protecting your heart.”

How in the heck was I supposed to unravel the tightly wound fist that had been living for years inside my chest? Didn’t he know how scary strangers could be? He hadn’t gone on some of my dates! But, that’s another story. I want to remain vulnerable no matter who is standing before me. I’d spent too many years as a chameleon. It was time to unveil my soul, but how? I could sort of feel the subtle shift to which he was referring. I wanted someone to take me by the feet and shake me out over a balcony like a rug. But that seemed like asking too much. Where is Superman when you need him?

I have studied ballet, jazz, modern, African, and tap, but this has been a whole new venture. All forms of dance have taught me something valuable, and now, tango was offering me a direct reflection of how I engage with the Other.

I thought about my first lesson, when I was asked to dance "hands off,” guided only by the leader’s heart without actually being in contact. I remember my partner’s chest hairs and the top button of his shirt, and the way my heart was pounding like a lost puppy’s. “Concentrate!” I told her, when I should have been whispering: “Feel it.”