The Impassioned Years
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“You can dance anywhere, even if only in your heart”
Unknown
As a little girl my life changed forever one fateful morning years ago when I was six. I watched belly dancers on TV and knew from that moment on life would not be the same. Eyes glued to the TV screen and my breakfast coming out of my mouth I gazed longingly as each dancer wove her magical spell. They were ethereal beings and everything I imagined what women should be. I saw myself wearing those beautiful costumes, the envy of all my friends so with a grin and sigh I decided belly dancing was for me. I marched into the kitchen and informed my mother that I was going to be a belly dancer when I grew up. Being the good, Catholic mother, she informed me that I didn’t know what I was talking about and of course I couldn’t be a belly dancer. I had a frown on my face which cost me a scolding and I was sent back into the room a little more humbled and determined.
The feeling was never lost just the years went by and not until I was sixteen did I see belly dancing again at a Greek Festival in my hometown of Albuquerque. I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest and it was all I could do just to stand there and watch the dancers. I had such a longing to get up on stage and perform with them. There was a part of me that knew how to dance like them but my every day reality reminded me that this was not true.
Have you ever felt something so strong that you were incomplete if you didn’t do it or see it again? This is the way spirit tells us what we must do in life and spirit will keep at us until we either do something about it or let it fade away. When we let our desires fade away apart of us goes with them.
With my background growing up Catholic, the opportunities for learning belly dance didn’t appear for me until I left home. But the intense emotions stayed with me and I finally faced my desire and started on my belly dancing quest. In this case I started dancing in my early twenties and as you can imagine I ate, drank, slept belly dancing and to heck with anything else regardless of what it was except for riding my horses and working cattle. Talk about two extreme identities; they were at opposite ends of the spectrum but to tell you the truth I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I mean, I loved telling people that I belly danced and worked cattle. Just the reaction out of people alone was worth saying it along with made up stories about how I would ride my horse to our camp site and belly dance the night away in front of the campfire. In my minds eye this is what I did, it all took place and sometimes it was hard to know reality from fantasy. One thing for sure I knew that one day I would be dancing on stages in front of big crowds. Throughout the years I have realized that my fantasies helped me keep my desires in the forefront instead of the back burner of life.
Thank goodness for those magical feelings because in reality training and practicing is the only way to get to the magical belly dancing goal. This part I didn’t really think about and when I had really long days working cattle the last thing I wanted to do was practice. It’s amazing what the mind can do to you when you’re tired. It can pit one identity against the other causing bickering and fighting. I can’t really say that my two identities liked each other it was more like they tolerated each other. Both aspects completed me because I wanted to be a cowgirl as much as I wanted to be a belly dancer. Desire can be very powerful because it doesn’t let the words “I can’t” come near you. And you become deaf to all who say it can’t be done. So both identities tolerated each other because they knew they were both my desires and neither one of them had to compete with the other for my attention.
Continuing on my path was like an action adventure novel because there were so many unexpected surprises along the way. Not all of them were the pleasant kind and there were a few occasions were my mouth dropped open and I thought I was in a bad dream.
And did I mention the part about not telling my parents that I was learning how to belly dance? Hmmm well this was the good Catholic girl in me, I thought. At the time in my minds eye I knew that the day I became famous they would have no other choice but to accept what I did. Unfortunately this was not convincing enough for me so I thought maybe I could use an alias while I danced. Little did I know that a part of dance is becoming someone else, the one person you have always wanted to be. So it kind of happens naturally that you become not only an alias to yourself but unrestrained from life itself.
Dreams and fantasies of stardom took a toll on me and for awhile everyday living became just a blur; that was unless I was on my horse.
I have often wondered how people could go to work and accept a mediocre job especially since there is so much creativity that pops and bursts out of us. In our acceptance of making a living we can forget how to live. I went the mediocre path occasionally when I thought that dance was just a dream. It’s almost like a ping pong match that you have going on back and forth until finally one or the other side wins. As women we look for emotional well being in the movements and gestures of life so how is it that a decision to become the end result of our goals and aspirations can be so confusing and difficult? The beginning years can yoyo a dancer into a raving lunatic because our society tells us we cannot be selfish and do anything for ourselves. Belly dance has the tendency to whisper in our ears that when we are happy and on stage sharing our joy to the masses we are the mirror opposite reflecting back the selfless women that we are. But convincing ones self of this in the beginning can be hard. My surroundings became my first obstacle in the beginning years only because the people around me told me that there was no way to make a living dancing and that I should be realistic instead of being naïve and impractical. Adding to this I became the second obstacle because I listened to them.
Time is always on our side and if we didn’t have her, there would be fewer belly dancers on the loose. Eventually most of us give in to our passion and we finally accept the fact that we are belly dancers through and through. I really believe magic happened for me because when I finally focused on my dance path everything fell into place. Well ok, once it fell into place I did a lot of tripping over myself.
Thank goodness family and friends opinions changed from negative to the mere “possibility” that I could actually be successful. This is where we intend what we want and people eventually move with us in the same direction or they go away.
One of the first belly dance workshops that I attended was in Austin Texas and it was a long weekend workshop. Little did I know what I was in for and I found that those magical feelings that I had inside hid from me behind closed doors; doors that I didn’t even know were there. The dance instructor was Horacio Cifuentes who was and is a masterful dancer with a drill sergeant type of motivation. This was my first workshop and it was an eye opener. By the end of the weekend I felt like I had gone through a rite of passage with a bit of boot camp put in for good measure! This was also the first time I experienced mean spirited dancers who felt it was their right to tell me to quit belly dancing and do something else. This was my first jaw dropping experience of the negative kind and every time I think of those women to this day I smile because little did they know they were the catalyst that catapulted me in the direction of “I’m going to prove you wrong!” Magic turned into pure determination and I realized that there are certain types of reality that seep in if you aren’t careful. So if people become lemons turn them into lemonade.
In the beginning of my belly dance travels I couldn’t find a belly dance teacher for at least two years. Finally my searching led me to a wonderful dancer named Dina Des Georges who took me in and started teaching me the fundamentals of belly dance. As most beginners I was hungry for every move she taught and I had such enthusiasm that at times I could tell she felt a little overwhelmed. My first teacher was not so much a teacher as she was a performer. Her heart was on the stage and after about 4 months of teaching me the basics, I was told she was no longer teaching me. No explanation was given and as my heart dropped I knew this meant again I was in a position where I had to find another dance teacher. My next teacher was a great inspiration but she let me know that she was already an accomplished dancer and that I would not become her caliber for many, many years. I wasn’t sure what her point was but this didn’t deter me at all. After a while what I did find with my second teacher was a severed trust that eventually came between us. I realized that if I am learning from someone who can’t share the joy of belly dance and isn’t interested in my well being than there isn’t much of a relationship and it’s time to move on. If a teacher doesn’t look out for you than you know you have someone that sees the world that revolves only around them and there is no room for you.
When we get a move or we accomplish choreography, we want someone there who understands and claps and yells with us. There is no better feeling in the world than to be with people who understand what it takes to belly dance. Sometimes our families can be happy for us but they don’t always understand either. I remember one time I finally was able to do a group of combinations and there was nobody around except for my horses, goats, geese and chickens. I was actually outside practicing in front of them. As I was yelling and jumping up and down the horses started to run, the chickens and geese ran around me and my goats were kicking up in the air. It was pretty funny and I will always remember that moment. Another time when I was practicing outside my big draft horses thought it was time to get their heads scratched. So they would come right up to me and stick their big heads in my way assuming that a pat on the head was more important than anything I was doing.
There is also something else that comes up within the first year that nobody told me about which was the need to prove that my dancing was not just a hobby but something I really wanted to do. I’m not saying that every dancer out there wants to make a living solely on dance itself but with many forms of dance it can take up hours in a day rehearsing and practicing. Belly dance can consume so much of our time that we forget about time all together and I can say this because this happened to me. This is unfortunately where arguments come alive especially if your partner or spouse doesn’t understand the commitment and dedication it takes to become successful. This wasn’t what I envisioned when I started to belly dance and to tell you the truth it is the part of the reality of the dance that can be a setback if you let it. One thing no one tells any of us is that disillusionment and frustration become a common element along with the impassioned and fervent emotions. They mix together and create moments of pure dramatic outbursts that become a part of our dance persona. The only guides we really have are those magical feelings that stay with us no matter where we are or who we become which means the drama queens in us are created along the way.
Reality takes a beating after awhile because you than learn of the drama that is created by women and how their issues effect the dance community. Besides learning how to be a drama queen yourself, you also get to see it first hand with other dancers in studios, venues and workshops. The first time I saw how brutal women could be in this dance field was in a workshop in Dallas that I attended within my fifth or sixth year of dancing. One woman was a vendor and she came to the workshop and show uninvited. I had no clue that “tail coating” others hard work was not only done but not that uncommon. The workshop sponsor was very upset that this particular vendor had come with her costumes in tow and laid out for the workshop attendees to see in her room. Arguments could be heard and hotel management was called in to take care of the problem.
Can you imagine what it is like to be in the back dressing room with dancers who don’t get along? My first experience of this was when I was young and inexperienced and I naively thought that everybody got along. The shocker was how thick the animosity was and how it took form. Side glances, rolling eyes and the whisperings of a united front along with silent daggers being thrown was only the beginning. Women have a very unique way of telling each other how they “really” feel by the shallow polite dialogue they have with each other. I understood this in my later years only because sometimes I was apart of that shallow chatter. I have always questioned this type of etiquette because I would rather deal with the dead silence of valid feelings than wasted time on trivial niceties that mean nothing and are false.
When I took my dance experiences home and finally absorbed them all it became apparent that this dance form was not as magical as I had once thought it to be and that it wasn’t all lolly pops and roses. And as this reality set in I knew that our dance community wasn’t any different than the real world. In truth we are real women dancing together in a real world and my naïve wonderland way of thinking finally faded away within the first couple of years.
I realized that dance truly comes from within and that those magical feelings are the result of our connection to the Universe, not the drama that can unfold around us. The key is to make sure that issues don’t sever this link. Connecting sometimes is easier said than done. So many women come into belly dance because they are facing issues and problems on the home front. It is said that belly dancing is a therapy for the body but I have seen it used as a band aid that covered only the surface issues never healing the deep wound. I worked with a wonderful dancer in my early years that was the antithesis of her belly dance image. The dance seemed to ease her pain but I couldn’t really understand how she could separate herself from each persona and stay sane. Perhaps her insanity is what kept her going because in the real world sanity and insanity can become a blur pulling the two together. What the audience sees up on stage isn’t always what is backstage in the dressing room. As I learned we can become the shadow of our own self loathing all the while dancing on stage with confidence and practiced proficiency.
Belly dancing was an escape from troubled times I thought. In reality it magnified my life lessons some of which I didn’t want to deal with and others I didn’t even know I had. The innocent passion that I started out with turned into a seasoned participation and observation of a dance form that took hold of me and wouldn’t let go. To say belly dance was my fix was an overstatement and to say I was addicted was an understatement. Belly dance was my right of passage from the innocent woman that I was to the more mature woman that I became. I was wiser and wearier of my path yet at the same time I couldn’t wait to see what was around each bend in the road. Walking solemnly on my path is a lesson that even to this day trips me up. Dance is to be celebrated so on occasion I remember to jump for joy realizing that I can let go of any inhibitions limiting my choices, desires and dreams. Is this not the true source connection? The connection took the rose colored glasses off and I realized that the magic I felt at certain points were feelings of naïve expectations with no experience to back them up. The connection helps us to understand each experience we have and to see where we are. Then the magic bursts out of us and keeps us eager to walk the twists and turns of our dance path. We learn how to walk, step around and jump along the path and this amazingly enough is what makes the seasoned dancer. Interestingly enough the passion is as great today as it was back then. The only difference now is that my fire burns brighter and I have come to realize that it is my job and no one else’s to keep my fire burning.
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About Leyla Najma
