My mother Rhea taught me – both explicitly and by example, that belly dance can be both a dance of empowerment and a full-time way of life.
My mom is quoted in a 1973 article on belly dance that appeared in the now defunct Venus magazine:
“When I dance, I don’t want to be seen as a sex object; I’m an artisan. I try to mesmerize, hypnotize the audience. I’m a sorceress, a magical trickster, the master of my body. I say to them: “Watch me do this over here, but did you see this move over here at the same time.” And I relate to the men and the women in the audience, and they relate to me. Belly dancing is not just a sensuous dance. Its an extravaganza, showing the feats of human capabilities.”
I love what she says here! And its true - Mom is an artisan, a magical trickster.
When a new student embarks on her belly dance journey, whether by choice or because their friend dragged them to their first class – it often becomes a profoundly transformative and integrative experience for body, mind and spirit.
Undulations, isolations, articulations, trembles, shimmies, flutters and rolls awaken the body and its deeply embedded ancient wisdoms.
Sometimes, for new students, the unfamiliar articulations of belly dance dredge up inarticulate anxieties of the soul – anxieties I see expressed on faces during class:
“My pelvis is tilting! My hips are hipping! My stomach is showing! My breasts are jiggling!”
But the remedy to these anxieties lies in the very movements that dredge them up. The anxieties are processed through practice, they are alchemized into a serenity and sureness that only sinuous training, passionate concentration and dedicated study of technique can bring.
In post-modern American Society, the ancient art of belly dance raises many important questions: Questions about gender, body image, ethnicity, emotion, art, entertainment, social roles and while we’re at it: the meaning of life. It is up to each student to live these questions for herself, but keep moving. As a teacher, I see belly dance as a tool of empowerment and joy. I believe belly dance moves energy through the body in healing ways and can change your life for the better.
When I have student recitals, I discourage the tense pursuit of perfection and encourage the enjoyment of process. Perfection is overrated. Process is where growth occurs, true and deep. We work hard in class on technique, but in performance we want to present ourselves with our natural grace and personality, incorporating more advanced technique as we grow as dancers. I like to pay homage to process and the journey, accepting ourselves as perfect just where we are along the way. We’re on this earth to have fun and dance, and we’ve found the secret to a joyful and empowered life: Belly dance.