Over the summer I spent a few weeks travelling in Europe and Asia (taking yoga classes whenever I could) and another few taking other movement based classes and workshops around the U.K. As a seasoned backpacker, taking a group tour around Sri Lanka, or even venturing out around its coastline solo was well within my comfort zone. However, the times that really had me questioning whether to give up and go home were the classes I took here in the UK – specifically a professional Jazz dance class at BASE studios in London and a 3-day intensive with my favourite contemporary/circus company Motionhouse.
Jazz dance has never been my strongest style – too much fast footwork for me! I took graded exams in Modern Jazz as a teenager and didn’t do badly but I never felt totally comfortable performing Jazz routines on stage and certainly not when it came to auditions where choreo combos were demanded to be performed at the drop of a hat. Having said goodbye to the freelance dance world of London around 5 years ago, it was a nerve wracking prospect to dip my toe back in, even just for one class. I turned up at the studio half an hour early (being late would almost certainly have given me a good enough reason to avoid going in at all) and instantly felt intimidated by the tanned, toned and half naked bodies stretching and chatting around me. I sat and made quiet conversation with a another less-shiny looking student before it was time to navigate the warren of corridors and studios, watching through the windows as other classes finished with small group performances of high-intensity numbers to rapturous applause from the crowds stood at the sides. GULP – performing choreo you’ve just learnt to a room full of talented strangers – taking me back to audition days. My class was packed with people I assumed were much younger than myself, and certainly more appropriately dressed in dance trainers (I was mid-travel so only had converse or bare feet to choose from). I started in my trainers until I noticed some kind of bird poo on the bottom during the floor stretches and hastily removed them and coped with having my bare feet nearly stood on for the rest of class. The choreo was tricky, with lots of syncopated rhythms and moments to embellish with your own groove – I instantly feel uncool in these. But I learnt it all and only missed a few steps occasionally. I was picked last for the groups to be filmed at the end – unsurprisingly, but I gave each round of performances my best shot despite the voice in my head telling me to just hide in the corner and not show up for my turn. I was proud of myself for showing up, joining in and not throwing in the towel. Luckily I had a mixed movement class booked in later that day, a combination of contemporary floorwork and yoga, that fell well within my comfort zone like a comfy pair of pyjamas, helping to restore my confidence in my physical abilities.


2 days later I was arriving in Leamington Spa for my 3-day intensive with Motionhouse. I’m a massive fangirl of the company, having watched most of their stage and outdoor productions over the years and even auditioned for them a long time ago. I had done a similar workshop in 2019 so knew vaguely what to expect but my body felt far less prepared this time after hiking a mountain in the Swiss alps that left me sore and having done more yoga than contemporary dance in the last few years. I also had hang ups about being one of the oldest at the intensive as it was advertised for professional dancers as well as those currently in or having just finished vocational training – I finished my training over 10 years ago and haven’t called myself professional for a good 5 years. My suspicions about the age of the group were mostly correct, many of them in their early twenties, and even the teacher was surprised when I told him my age. And I definitely couldn’t do all of the movement he was throwing at us – walking across the room on my hands or cartwheeling through a back bend weren’t within my reach but I gave everything a shot and modified exercises, to a moderate level of personal challenge whilst avoiding serious injury, when needed. After the first day my body felt like it was going to explode from sheer muscle soreness, but the energy in the room (and some very enjoyable massage warm ups) allowed me to carry on, learning repertoire, practicing partner acrobatics and creating our own circus-style choreography using huge boxes. I still felt butterflies in my stomach before every mini group performance but again I showed up for every one! After a long hot bath and a few days rest I was so glad I hadn’t listened to my inner critic and left after the first day. I learnt so much I can use in my teaching and made some great connections.
The moral or my rambling summer story – to push past the nerves and the self-doubt and take that class, go on that course, revisit activities you once did – even if you weren’t that great at them. If you are interested or passionate about the skill who cares if you won’t be the best in the room, or even the average. The worst student in the room is potentially the most exciting place to be as you have the most to learn, the most room to grow – if you just take a little leap of faith and jump into that slight discomfort you’ll be glad you did and maybe even find your wings!