The primal belly

The last time I took belly dancing classes was in the back room of an inner-city pub more than twenty years ago. I remember rushing from work every Tuesday so as not to be late. Many times I would be peeved because the instructor would be very late; at other times she was a little stoned. But that didn’t matter when the music started. As she took us through the moves – diaphragm pops, full body undulations and shoulder shimmies – the day’s stresses fell away. I would feel my thoughts still, the drum beats pulse through my bare feet, my body move of its own accord in a sensual, natural way. It was as if I was returning to myself somehow – a more primal, universal self.

Fast forward and today I’ve taken myself to a morning belly dancing class at my local suburban gym. I’m still rushing; this time to get a load of washing on, shooing my teens out the door so that they get to school on time, thinking all the while about the work tasks I need to tick off when I get back to my home office. Belly dancing is an indulgence. But I know it will make me feel good. And feeling good means being more productive. A ‘win-win’ in business parlance.

When I walk into the class, I note the fit-looking instructor. The pile of colourful hip scarves on the stage. And the forty or so people of various ages, shapes and nationalities. Most people in the room are chatting, laughing and already swaying their hips. They’re all barefoot. I make a beeline for a red scarf and once it’s on, and my shoes are off, I’m transported back to the pub. I feel confident. Younger. And a little bit sexy.

As the music starts and the instructor takes us through our paces, I quickly realise that I can’t hold a shimmy as long as I used to. That my diaphragm doesn’t pop as strongly as it once did. And that my joints creak a little when I try a full body undulation.

I look around me at everyone shaking and shimmying, popping and undulating. Several people are laughing. Many are encouraging each other through the unfamiliar moves. I lock eyes with an elderly gent who’s giving it everything he’s got. We smile at each other. Soon, I close my eyes. It’s not long before my head stills and I feel the music beat up through my feet. My body starts to move without thought, without consideration of its limitations, doing its primal, joyful thing. And I can’t help but think that this is the perfect place for me to be.