The medicine of tango

Because we bring to the embrace exactly who we are, if we are not entirely ourselves, then, who is the one dancing?

Tango, in essence, is a core-to-core dance that requires total presence and attunement.

When it’s not an embodied experience, it could remain surface-level fun, which is fine, but, if you let it, this dance can take you to deeper levels of personal enrichment.

Embodied means that your movement is guided by the whole body, not just your mind. It is physical, it is sensations and feelings. It is a way of being that connects you to another that tastes like bliss.

Countless dancers have shared how they find solace and fulfilment in milongas.

No wonder tango becomes a calling, a life purpose, the raison d'etre of many. And it’s not just beautiful music or the social aspect of it. Something in tango incites a devotion that I admire and keeps me curious.

We have shared how tango improves and transforms our lives, with the beautiful challenge it brings to our bodies, think of balance, the focus on the axis, the experience of intimacy and connection, and the sense of community.

However, to reap the healing benefits of tango, there is a price to be paid.

A recent podcast by John Wineland made me reflect on this. Intimacy in a relationship, including the one we create on the dance floor, can bring to the surface old patterns, grief and even trauma. Building up personal resources can make a big difference in a close embrace.

This is delicate territory.

What do I need to do to have the right energy for it? To transmit trust and be on form for a song?

Without presence, commitment and a degree of vulnerability, the quality of the dance degrades.

To give an analogy: maybe tango is the flower blooming. Before, there was growth, maturation, and planting seeds. And that means classes and practice, but above all, it means cultivating a life and a way of being that is grounded, and centred. And, when the time comes, you dance from it.

Where I am

There are no classes or milongas where I live, and I haven’t felt the need to travel to events to get my tango doses.

I feel complete without it, though.

There is joy in my life, even with challenges. Tough stuff like losing a relationship requires time, gentle attention and love for myself indeed.

But I landed in a town that feels like home. Here, I am experiencing an immense energy for discovery and connection. I feel welcome, guided, and open to possibilities, finding joy in walks in nature, time alone, and with new people slowly appearing in my life.

“That’s what matters. Maybe it is okay that you are not dancing tango for now, because what matters is that you are happy”.

My friend Adira Heart told me this the other day.

Her words were a strong affirmation: I am in the right place.

I will taste this precious dance again and find the tango learning environment I need. I’m planning for it. In the meantime I’m deeply feeling my steps, one foot in front of the other, watering the soil.

Stay attuned.
Jesus

The dance we create

Sasha Damjanovsky, a tango dancer from London, shares the key ingredient of having a magical experience on the dance floor.

The healing power of tango

I’m supporting wholeheartedly this initiative, an International Conference in Berlin, which will explore the effects of Argentine tango on mental, physical and social health across different disciplines. Let’s meet there!

The price we need to pay

John Wineland invites us to bring the notebook and take an inventory of where we get reactive, what happens in our body, and discern where it comes from. This is, he remarks, the entry ticket for deep intimacy with our partners.