vaniaputri's: Living at The Dance Floor

I think I finally got it.

All this time, I kind of hate it went things go unplanned, out-of-track. It put me to bad mood every time something unexpected happen, make me run out of Plan A, Plan B and Plan C. You see, I prepare 2 back up plans here, and things still go out of my control? Yes, I'm mad. I feel like somebody sneaking behind my back, waiting till the right moment to ruin one of my plans (you'll be surprised how many plan a human capable of making).

Then I learnt to Salsa.

Yesterday night, my office matte got invited to attend the anniversary of one of her client's resto. She took me as her plus one since we both are "miserably" single and didn't have any romantic plan that night. Girls night out. Meaning make up on and heels as high as the skyscraper and drinks to our heart content. That's the plan.

We didn't really drink much since the party was full of families. Well, there were not much to drink to in the first place. But we ate like no tomorrow. Haha. The host came and greeted us, telling us about a salsa community that would come and teach everyone how to dance. "You girls should join them on the dance floor!"

We just stared at each other, trying to hold our laugh. We suck at the dance floor. There's no way we embarrassed our self in front of many people. We would like to sit prettily in our table, nibbling rosemary snapper dish that tasted like heaven.

The music filled the room, shoes on, people started dancing. There were two couples dancing beautifully, their moves looked like water, so smooth, so flexible, so elegant and romantic. And I am, a self proclaimed hopeless romantic, couldn't just sit around and watched anymore.

"I think I'm gonna hit the dance floor."

"You CAN dance?"

"Nope. But that's why I'm going. Haha."

My feet went weak as I walked to one of the guy that looked like the instructor. A thought came, telling my rational mind that this wasn't a good idea. My heels were 7cm high and my motoric sense is a mess. I could fall anytime soon. Please back off. But my feet kept going, and the instructor saw me going his way. It's too late to turned around.

I think, I might be get lucky that night. Mr. Instructor was really good at teaching me basic salsa move. He held my body every time I thought I was going down facing the floor, making me feel safe to make bigger moves rather than my robotic stiff steps. It's a ballroom dance after all. It has to be grand and big. Once I started to feel the beat and had a bit confidence, I kind of getting a good vibes following Mr. Instructor's lead. On the third song, I could do the basic move smoothly. On the forth song, I twirled. Ladies and gentleman, I TWIRLED. I was wearing my body-fit-dress with A Line skirt, perfect for TWIRLING. Thank God I picked that dress! Mr. Instructor told me to relax my shoulder, so the moves would go natural and elegant. Just follow my lead and the beat of the song, he told me. He also reminded me to smile, cause no grumpy face is allowed at the dance floor. I'm not sure how many song were played as I swayed here and there, posing like a professional Salsa dancer. I was enjoying the dance so much I didn't want to stop.

In Salsa, the man will lead the woman through every single moves. The man is in control of where will they go, left of right, fast or slow, the man initiates the flow through the entire song. What the woman do is response to his lead like a shadow; close and intimate, calm and pretty, fragille yet solid. I have to say, it felt good that for once I let go of control and left all plan and decision to a total stranger. I practically didn't have to think the next move. All I had to do was enjoying myself.

So I did. Mr. Instructor was so good at dancing. He started slow, adding some pace to the moves as I got used to the beat then twirl! Twirl! Bent backward! Marched forward! And another round of twirling happened on and on, making me feel dizzy. I smiled from ear to ear during the dance. It felt hella good to get loose and dizzy and blurry. I couldn't see what's around me. I was blind without Mr. Instructor leading me where to step next with his movement. I was smooth sailing to a potential Salsa dancer, or so I thought. Hahaha. The only thing in my mind was keep going, dancing till my feet couldn't take it any longer. But the song ended. All the dancers clapped and left to catch a breath. I still felt dizzy.

Man, it's so much fun at the dance floor.

Mr. Instructor excused himself to grab a drink. I got back to my table, adrenaline was still rushing to my head. I was in the cloud nine. My friend clapped as I reached the table. She said I looked so good, as if it's not my first time dancing to the Salsa rhythm. I said, all thanks to Mr. Instructor I wasn't hitting the floor, literally.

The next round was starting and I was still catching my breath. I didn't realise I was sweating till I finished my second glass of water. Nice. Calories burnt yet I had so much fun in the process. I might like Salsa a little too much. My friend decided to learnt too, after looking at my success first trial. A success attempt of a sucker is a courage for another. And off she went to the dance floor.

I looked at every woman's face at the dance floor. They seemed to be content, trusting their partner to guide the move, yet they own presence shined, as if they were the star of the dance floor. They made you think that all the moves were initiate by them. When in fact, they surrendered to the rhythm their partner build. How come, not being in control making you have a powerful presence in the crowd? Making you look beautiful but at the same time giving off vibe not to mess around with you? Was I looking like that when i danced earlier? Could I be like that? I wanted to be like that.

I began to think that probably there's a certain grace of the act of letting go and surrender. It makes some space for yourself to accept the imperfection of your perfect plan. It makes you take a break, so you can see the bigger picture. It let you breathing, enjoying the bitter sweet of failures and finding a humour out of it. It makes you embrace the fact that nothing is ever fully under control, and it's okay. Probably, just probably, you'll like the surprise twist better than the one you've planned. Who knows, where will it take you in the future. But just like Salsa, even thou you can't really see what's around you, there always be arms holding your back; help you find back your rhythm, keep you from falling down and remind you to smile. No grumpy face is allowed at the dance floor.