Haibun: Feeling It

I remember my very first Salsa class clearly: thirty of us in a dance studio, mirrors and a ballet barre as it’s only obstruction. The instructor explained the foundational steps as, “quick, quick, slow.”

I could repeat that, “quick, quick, slow,” with enthusiasm. I would repeat it thousands of time, alone, and I had it down. The problem was when the music came on, I didn’t know were the 1 and 2 count for the “quick” was and were the 3 and 4 count came together for the “slow” part. I watched others to find where we were at, ‘was this one of the two quick part or the slow part?’

Even after going from beginner’s Salsa to Rueda — where the leader of the circle calls the move and the lead and follow execute the salsa move — I still had to peek over to the people with rhythm to figure out where I was at.

The problem, I think, was that I was trying to figure it out instead of feel it. I remember having a conversation with one of the instructors about how she could figure it out, she said she just did. She couldn’t tell me how she figured it out, she just picked it up. That was the answer I received from everyone I asked, I was baffled. Even the last time dancing Salsa, I never to fully grasped the feel of the salsa step or trusted myself enough to just move to it. The best I could ever do was to pay attention to other people’s feet.

Too often, with haiku or with spring, I tried to figure it out instead of feel it. This in large part is why I dropped the rhyme and syllable count at the beginning of the year. Right now, I’m just trying to feel it and live with the vulnerability of that process. I’m still learning to feel it.

spring dances in on

the breezes of a million

new colors in bloom