dancing fools...
We went with friends to a night club somewhere in League City or Baytown called Big Texas. Unfortunately, I have managed to psych myself out when it comes to dancing to the point where I don't know if I'll ever get over it.
When Amanda was recovering from knee surgery, she psyched herself out over getting her foot over the threshold at the back door. It's only an inch or so high, but lifting her foot was incredibly painful, and her real fear was that she would either bump her toe on it, or slip on her crutches, and tear her knee up again. She would stand at the threshold, trying this way and that to figure out the best way to get her foot across. It would literally take 20 minutes to go in or out of the door, which was wide open in the dead of what passes for winter here.
In the end, whether she went over it foot first, or backed over it, she had to lift her foot to get across. And the issue went on and on, even though the threshold and her need to cross it never changed. There WAS no good way to do it, but that didn't stop her from balking, and trying to find a way around it.
That's how I feel about dancing now. Intellectually, I am well aware that nobody gives a damn if I suck at it. I know although there are 'steps' that should be followed if you want to dance 'country-western', there are WIDE latitudes and lots of room for interpretation - unless you plan to dance with strangers. Then the rules kinda count a little more, or there's gonna be a train wreck. (wink)
But for some reason, my psyche has built up this wall that keeps me off the dance floor, and it pisses me off. Not because I give a crap about getting out and dancing. It pisses me off because I know Jo Ann would love to go out dancing, and unless I do, she won't.
But mostly it pisses me off because I don't like limiting myself just because of the bashful gene I was born with.
dancing fools...
We went with friends to a night club somewhere in League City or Baytown called Big Texas. Unfortunately, I have managed to psych myself out when it comes to dancing to the point where I don't know if I'll ever get over it.
When Amanda was recovering from knee surgery, she psyched herself out over getting her foot over the threshold at the back door. It's only an inch or so high, but lifting her foot was incredibly painful, and her real fear was that she would either bump her toe on it, or slip on her crutches, and tear her knee up again. She would stand at the threshold, trying this way and that to figure out the best way to get her foot across. It would literally take 20 minutes to go in or out of the door, which was wide open in the dead of what passes for winter here.
In the end, whether she went over it foot first, or backed over it, she had to lift her foot to get across. And the issue went on and on, even though the threshold and her need to cross it never changed. There WAS no good way to do it, but that didn't stop her from balking, and trying to find a way around it.
That's how I feel about dancing now. Intellectually, I am well aware that nobody gives a damn if I suck at it. I know although there are 'steps' that should be followed if you want to dance 'country-western', there are WIDE latitudes and lots of room for interpretation - unless you plan to dance with strangers. Then the rules kinda count a little more, or there's gonna be a train wreck. (wink)
But for some reason, my psyche has built up this wall that keeps me off the dance floor, and it pisses me off. Not because I give a crap about getting out and dancing. It pisses me off because I know Jo Ann would love to go out dancing, and unless I do, she won't.
But mostly it pisses me off because I don't like limiting myself just because of the bashful gene I was born with.