Dancing with the enemy.

When you were at school, was there always one child that no one wanted to pick for their team in Games/P.E? Well that was me, I was the skinny girl , ( I was skinny, hard to beleive it now!), who was always left standing alone,  I couldn’t catch a ball, I had two left feet and gymnastics was a mystery, that  my body just couldn’t co-ordinate itself to do. . My manly Games mistress sighed everytime I tried,and I was usually relegated to the netball court/tennis court/hockey pitch that was furthest away. I grew up with a dread of any kind of physical exercise.  My overweight friends had an excuse when they ploughed into the “horse” rather than jumping over it, I just couldn’t get  everything in the right place to give it a go, and my teacher got more and more annoyed.

I could cycle and run but they were not included in the curriculum. It was my children who taught me to catch a ball, and a nursing colleague to play tennis. As I grew older I found that it was mainly fear that had been instilled in me by the teaching staff that prevented me from doing any thing physical. Why am I reminiscing abut my lack of sporting aheivement? Well, in church on Sunday, one of our organists said that she was teaching a dance class once a week and was I interested, immediately that feeling of fear hit my stomach, and loads of excuses came to mind, but I thought no, get yourself together girl and give it a go!

So yesterday I cycled up to the next village with some trepidation and joined in. The Rev. always tells people that  his wife is not a “joiner”, and normally I’m not.”. Well two hours later ,with patient tuition, I had learnt two waltzes and a foxtrot, AND, I throughly enjoyed it. I felt rather ungainly, I still have no rhythm and I’m a bit heavy footed but noone minded! I cycled the 9 miles home in pouring rain, but it was worth it.

Another plus was, that every church has that over sensitive body who takes umbridge at nearly everything and leaves the congregation regularly when things aren’t quite the way they want. It causes an atmosphere and some unpleasantness. When I saw this person come in to the class, I was worried about   their reaction towards me. As the Ministers wife I was the “enemy” too. But we spent two hours dancing together, and didn’t mention the sticky subjects,and by the end I had been offered a lift for next weeks’ class. and we had laughed and had coffee together, so don’t just be nice to your enemies in an attempt to ” pour hot coals on their heads”, dance with them! 


2 thoughts on “Dancing with the enemy.

  1. Lucky you – I have reached that age where I would love to stand up at some posh occasion and tango across the room, knowing vaguely what I was doing. Is your other half a dancer? or will you be gracing the dance floor alone when you have finished your classes?9 miles there and back – and dancing – Impressive!

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