Friday, March 15, 2013

There’s Something Between Us and It Ain’t My Finger:-)


                 I overheard two women talking as they danced together as leader and follower, “Wow! You’re so skinny. It’s so nice dancing without that thing poking me." After an awkward silence she added, "...I mean the belly.”
               I’d take umbrage at that remark if I could but I am beyond feeling hurt by such honest and harmless utterances. Yes, I carry a little extra weight around the midsection yet I do not feel remorse for I have been enlightened.
               I’ve gained thirty pounds since I began dancing tango over six years ago. I guess I should be disheartened by this fact but I am not. It is common to gain a little weight when we begin a new relationship and I feel nothing but happy. Tango is a great partner to have on this journey through life and she feeds me well.
               I lost my job two years ago but that failed to impact my general state of happiness. With two kids in college I quickly ran through any financial buffer I had built up and should have been devastated when a storm ripped a hole in the roof of my house. Yet my house, as do I, still stands.
               If I had to offer an explanation for my ironclad bliss you will probably not be surprised if you know me, or have been following my blog, to find that it is tango and river-related:-)
               Once upon a time, when in April the rivers doth flow fast and furious, on the Lower Moose River that drains the western slope of the Adirondack Mountains, at a rapids section called ‘Froth Hole’,  in the middle of a blinding snow-storm, I was working as a whitewater river guide. It was my responsibility to man the safety line for the rafting guests. My boss and I both felt the most appropriate place was on a large rock protruding from the water, six feet off the far bank just above the waterfall that created the angry, foamy depression providing the namesake for this place.
               I kayaked across the river, climbed out of my boat and grabbed my throwbag, a small bag of coiled rope. Without hesitating, I dove into the frigid water to swim out to the nearby promontory and was nearly swept over the waterfall. I was not afraid of being carried into the frothy water. I knew that landing on the sharp rocks inside the drop would break my back and that would be much worse than slowly drowning in the churning river. Hypothermia, I’ve heard, makes drowning a much more pleasant concept.
               This was my second season as a guide on the Moose River and somewhere along the way I had lost the ability to react to my fear. I knew it was there but I ceased to make decisions with regard to my physical welfare. I acted as situations demanded, always moving forward to the next task. Those were long days that ended with extreme fatigue and me slipping into slumber, always to be awakened too soon.
               Reaching out my right hand I grasped the rock above the river’s surface and found smooth, solid ice. A thought went through my mind that I should find another job. At that moment I knew there was no way a whitewater rafting company was going to pay the hospital costs incurred during my rehabilitation from a broken back. The next task, it seemed, was finding a less dangerous environment in which to earn a living.
               It was in this moment that I achieved enlightenment.
               Beneath the water my head ached with intense pain. Instinctively my body attached to the submerged portions of the stone like plastic wrap. Without concern for my next breath I slithered up to the surface, straddled the peak and readied my rope.
               That was the beginning of the end of my career in adventure sports. A harrowing sailboat ride across the North Atlantic on a 40’ sloop through a force nine gale, around Hurricane Floyd and past the false lighthouse beacons of St. Thomas-Cruz Bay in the Caribbean Sea, would lead me to marriage and the safety of family life. 20 years later I would be on the far side of parenthood and looking at dancing my way into old age and senility.
               So here I am with my big belly bouncing babes off it like Bambi bumping bumble bees with his bovine-esque beak. My big Buddha belly. Ho, ho, ho, time to tango:-D  
               Though some may say this stone can’t roll and is growing moss, I hear them not. I am a body in motion and enjoying the movement in spite of my size. It is fairly safe here. The only danger I face is having my feelings hurt or a poorly executed turn on my bad knee.
               I realize women would rather dance with a perfect specimen of manliness but we come to this dance with the bodies we have, not the bodies we wish to have. In the grand scheme of things maybe it is necessary for me to be fat. It keeps me humble but it also allows some of my partners to shed their feelings of inadequacy. These women easily open themselves up to a state of relaxation that is necessary for them to move to the music and find whatever it is that they so desperately need.
                Karma has many forms and one of those forms is me. Don’t worry, be happy….and dance with me!

             
(For a more in-depth looking into the mind of the Kayak Hombre and his thoughts on tango, buy his book: River Tango, now available on Amazon.com at http://www.amazon.com/River-Tango-perri-iezzoni/dp/1453865527 )





















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