Dancing.  I love it.  I can lose myself in the music and just let my body flow.

 

Unfortunately, I don’t flow to the beat, nor do I flow in the same direction as anyone else.   I don’t even flow in time with myself – if left to my own devices my top half moves in a completely different rhythm to my backside, legs and feet.

 

My other half, on the other hand, has it. I’m not sure what it is, except that when he moves, he becomes an extension of the music.  Every part of him moves and grooves with the beat, whatever the music is.  Even when seated (he is physically disabled and often in a wheelchair),  he has more rhythm in his pinkie finger than I have in my whole body.

 

It’s weird as I’m a musician.  I have GCSE and A-Level music, I’ve played the violin in several orchestras and even conducted on occasion.  I can tell you the time signature of any music you care to play me, and can sometimes even tell you the key as well.

 

But holding a beat with anything other than a violin, bow or baton eludes me.  Completely.

 

Hence you can see our dilemma when considering dancing together at our wedding.  I don’t want to embarass myself.  (I know that my other half says he’d never be embarassed by me no matter what, but it doesn’t stop me thinking that he’ll be embarassed). But I JUST CAN’T DANCE.

 

My hubby to be has offered to teach me to dance – which would be a challenge even to an able-bodied professional dancer who’d be able to drag me around the dance floor.  But if he ever stood up on the dance floor I’d have to be able to hold him up and possibly quite literally drag him around it, as his legs are many things but reliable isn’t one of them.

 

So tonight he had me clapping or clicking my fingers to the music, to get used not just to hearing the beat but making my body move in time with it.  Then a slow foot shuffle, tapping the same rhythm with the ball of my foot was added in.  Suprisingly, I managed this with little fuss – however I was dancing in the same way that a 1970’s Cyberman might dance – awkardly to say the least.

 

He tried then to explain (and show me with his arms and torso) how to add some ‘soul’ into the movement.

 

I tried, but all I could do was laugh.

 

So yeah. I’ve got two left feet.  And two left hands, knees, elbows and shoulders.

 

And anyone who says dancing is easy?  They lie.

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