So last week, I moved up to the next level of belly dancing (well, the "not-completely-beginning" level). This group is slowly working on a routine instead of just isolated moves. So, I was standing in a bit of a pose, waiting for music...
And my mind went back to standing facing the back wall of a gym, cymbals on my hands, aware of the people forming a circle with me even though my head was down... waiting. That emotion, that space. That vibe. Nothing else existed. I don't know how to describe it to anyone who didn't know it. But. Let's just say that my marching days were filled with stress and anxiety and blood and tears and frustration... and I still think is was definitely a net positive.
I need to move, I need to perform, I need to create. This touches too deep inside me to ignore.
And if it means I risk causing a "flare" of pain by not taking it easy enough, so be it. I can't not do this. There is too much joy to be had in moving my body. It is too good a means of expression. My body will just have to readapt, and I may have to take it a little slower, but I'm not giving up. If this is something I'm gonna have to deal with, I wanna be one of those people where you find out they have such-and-such issue and you're surprised.