On Tango crises

Recent conversations with distressed friends, as well as personal experiences in my 7 years of involvement with tango, have led me to think about the nature of recurring crises that seem to plague, at least occasionally, every tanguero /tanguera. Although there might be a certain correlation between a type of crisis and the number of years spent dancing, so far i have not been able to find a way to avoid the reoccurrence of any specific form.

The first type usually attacks you very soon after the initial introduction to the world of milongas, and I call it the "They don't like me" crisis. It usually occurs when you find your attempts at mirada/cabeceo repeatedly rejected and find yourself spending most of the time sitting in milongas while everybody else seems to be dancing. Although common sense tells you otherwise, you explain this to yourself as being caused by the "snobbery" or "prejudice " of the more experienced dancers, or, worse still, by some inherent characteristic of yourself. You may think it is your age, size or body shape, the way you dress or the amount of makeup you wear. You look at the others who are dancing more than you, and ask yourself what it is that they have got that you don't, and often, find an explanation that is beyond your control. After a night like this, we all have left the milonga in tears, telling ourselves that we don't need this kind of humiliation.

The second kind can only occur if we have been able to overcome the first, and I call it the "I don't like them " crisis. As opposed to the first kind, now the reason for dissatisfaction is not that they are not dancing with you , but that they are not dancing *the way you would want *. Typically, you feel that the people who are willing to dance with you don't hear the music like you do, have clumsy technique or an uncomfortable embrace, and you may feel physical or psychological discomfort after a tanda with them. By now, you have also found people with whom dancing seems effortless and easy, but they may live far away or only dance with you occasionally. So, you choose to spend more time sitting than dancing, asking yourself what the point of learning more is, if it only results in having fewer and fewer people you enjoy dancing with.

The third kind is for me perhaps the hardest to deal with, and I call it the "I don't like me" crisis. It appears when you are becoming aware of all your own idiosyncrasies and recurring mistakes, and how exasperatingly hard it is to get rid of them. By now, you have a clear idea of the way the movement should feel in your body but recognise how seldom you actually manage to let it happen. Despite of years of practice, you still find yourself lapsing into bad posture, unnecessary tension, unnatural and dysfunctional movement. Worse still, you realise you are still letting your fears and insecurities govern your movement, thinking that this is just about your personal challenges, not taking into account that your dance partner is probably fighting a similar battle of their own. You may spend the entire night at a milonga hunting for at least *one single step * that would feel right, that would justify all the effort, time (and money! ) you have invested in tango. When this crisis appears, you may find yourself so disheartened that sitting and drinking wine may seem the only sensible thing to do at the milonga.

I don't pretend to know what is the best way to deal with any of these crises (not to mention those that may still be waiting to appear ) but i know this: No matter which one of the above you may be currently battling with, remember that one day it too will pass. One day, you will again feel the effortless grace of "the flow", being fully present to your partner, hearing, feeling and expressing the music with your whole being. This alternation between agony and bliss is what makes tango so beautiful - and so unbearably hard.

Which, come to think of it, also applies to life.