When I was young, I loved to dance, not with the precision of ballet but with a wild, rhythmic freedom. My fascination with dance knew no bounds; I devoured every book on ballet, music from Swan Lake to Giselle, and fell in love with both the elegance of classical ballet and the daring of modern ballet, as well as troupes like Rambert and the beautiful Ghost Dances.
A Poignant Reminder
One icy January afternoon this year, I was perched high in the gods of the Colosseum, spellbound by Akram Khan's Giselle. From the first moment, the towering wall on stage commanded attention, signalling that this was not a performance to simply watch but to feel in your bones.
The reimagined score pulsed with energy and sorrow, and soon tears trickled down my cheeks - not just for the beauty before me, but for a longing I realised I had buried beneath the weight of everyday life. It was a longing for the freedom of moving without self-consciousness, for the spark of creativity that had once come so naturally, for a connection to something primal that dance had always given me.
Seeing the dancers lose themselves in the music woke up a part of me that had been silent for years, reminding me how essential it feels to express myself fully, to exist in a moment of pure movement and emotion.
I used to dance with wild abandon, always the first to surrender to the music’s invitation on any dance floor. At parties, movement became my language - why waste words when your body could say everything? Just last night, after sharing dance memories with a friend, I admitted I felt adrift, searching for writing inspiration. She suggested I write about dance, and so here I am.
Once Upon A dream
I once dreamed of being a dancer, but without formal training and believing I was too old, I let that dream slip away. In the past, age felt like a firm boundary, and I measured myself against standards I thought I could never meet. Now, looking back, those limits seem so trivial.
I realise that the barriers I put up were of my own making, shaped more by fear than by reality. Growing older has changed my perspective; dance is not about youth or perfection - it's about presence, expression, and the joy of moving. This shift has been freeing.
Learning The Move
I remember the thrill of taking lunchtime jazz dance classes with a young Arlene Phillips at the Pineapple Dance Centre, then losing myself for three hours every Friday evening at the Floral Street dance centre - African Dance, then disco, all choreographed to the velvet voice of Barry White. I would stumble out, drenched in sweat and utterly exhilarated.
Global Exploration
I even studied an Indian dance style called Odissi while exploring the Asian side of my heritage. Later, at my brother's wedding, he’d hired a band; I discovered it was an interesting exercise in surrender as my husband and I both fought to lead. Eventually, I let go, and we continued learning for a year after their wedding.
Now, I see that passion never truly fades, and it's never too late to reclaim it….
It struck an even deeper chord; as we talked, we explored how growing older often brings a creeping inhibition. As women, we lose some of our sensuality, our freedom, our lightness.
Igniting The Flame
In lockdown, I tried online dance classes and was surprised by how stiff and self-conscious I had become; music used to carry me effortlessly. The course became a journey back to my inner diva. I remember feeling awkward as I tried to strut and strike feminine, confident poses.
Maybe it is just me, but it was startling to realise how much of my expressive, sensual self had faded. Eventually, I gave myself permission to relax, to let go and stop judging myself, and for 20 mins, I liberated myself.
Express Yourself!
I now take time to dance; I’ve created a tape not just of rhythmic music but also expressive lyrical pieces where you can simply allow the music to express itself through you.
Whether its Reggae, African, Cajun, Brazilian, Soul, House, or Lyrical, Cumbia, take a moment each day to find your groove for 10 minutes and feel your soul and spirit lift.