“As Time Goes By,” another favourite British Show of ours. (Tis the season for TV I guess, as we sit huddled in front of the fireplace, waiting for our colds to pass.) This series was a charming tale of starstruck lovers who lost contact due to the capriciousness of war, only to meet perchance some forty years later to have the romance rekindled. The dramatic tension throughout is the testing of the elasticity and resiliency of the thread of love, now stretched over several decades. Whenever the couple in their quieted, senior seasons seemed at risk of losing the thread, possibly through neglect or petty resentments, they had simply to revisit those tender memories to remind themselves of how precious and fragile are love’s gifts.
Everything changes.
Our lives, loves, the way we do things, the reason we do things, our energy, our ability, what attracts and inspires, what repels in trepidation. All that we are and do takes its shading from not only the seasons of the year but the passing of the seasons of our years.
Whether an older lover or an older dancer, we are grateful.
We invest ourselves more fully in the moment.
We take time to savour, to linger over simple pleasures.
We put our nose to the wine glass before our lips and we slip slowly.
We draw as much nurturing from a hug or a snuggle as from a passionate embrace.
We care to pass time watching a flower bloom or a sun set.
We rock to the rhythm of rain.
We revisit memories rather than anticipate the future.
As in life, so in dance.
Dance, of course, is just one of a myriad ways to mark the passing of Time. Less becomes more. We trade the glitter and glamour for the comfort of the familiar and affirming. We take longer pauses and shorter flourishes, slower steps and simpler spins.
A quote from Cacho Dante, speaking as a seasoned tanguero, “When guys … didn’t really know how to dance, they did 20 steps; when they knew a bit more, they did 10; and when they really knew what they were doing, they danced five .. but with real quality.”
We pay more attention to the support we are giving to our partner than to executing a complicated sequence. We invest more attention to settling into the embrace and are more reluctant to surrender it.
We relax. We release the tension from the shoulders and hips. We delight in the simple gift and grace of the moment. We smile warmly, affectionately. We squeeze our partner’s hand when the tanda ends. We are thankful to our bodies and the dance that we can still create with beauty and grace. Perhaps even more so.