The Dream

Sometimes when work or life is a bit beige I spice things up by day dreaming that I live in a hip hop musical – or something closer to a teen dance film. Think ‘Step It Up’. 

Unfortunately, this is just a dream.

In reality my life isn’t anywhere near as glamorous, romantic, coordinated or dramatic.

I play a chosen video clip on repeat in the background of my screen, trying to focus on my serious professional pursuits while falling in and out of the escapist reality of the glamorous video clip world. Think Beyonce, Nelly Furtado, JT, even M.I.A.

This week has been a spectacular immersion in a truly great combination – LL Cool J and The Dream. And a little bit of classic LL Cool J, cause you know, Ladies Love Cool James.

Last year I got so inspired I enrolled in Hip Hop Dance Classes at the Sydney Dance Company. I went along feeling very realistic about what I was embarking upon. I knew I’d be shit. I wasn’t harbouring deluded visions of being naturally brilliant and suddenly getting a call from JT, Beyonce or Jay Z asking me to go on their next international tour as their star dancer. But I felt confident that I at least I had a sense of rhythm, I mean that’s my bread and butter, and I’ve spent my fair share number of hours and late nights in clubs, and even won the odd late night booty shaking dance-off. So while I knew I’d be shit I didn’t think I’d be the worst person in the world. Anyway, I was going along to have fun with some girlfriends so it’d be ok. Or so I thought.

On our first day we arrived to a scene of super cute and tiny dancers. I felt like some sort of giant. It was plain to see that this beginners class was in fact a group of people who’ve been dancing for years. People were stretching and working on dance combinations in the hallways. It was like something out of one of my favourite teen dance movie! Which was both kinda funny, and kinda horrifying.

Anyway, we really did suck. Like, badly. But we went back for a number of weeks, hoping to see some sort of improvement. It was quite confronting, to go back week after week, to do something you’re so entirely bad at. Aside from being super fit, to succeed in dance classes you need to be the kind of person who can pat your stomach and rub your head at the same time. You need to be able to think and move quickly, follow instruction while doing something else, not think about what you’re doing, and remember what happens next. And not worry about what people around you are doing, or what they think about what you’re doing [badly]. I thought this sounded simple. I’m the queen of multitasking. But, I discovered the hard way, that dance-dancing is really freakin hard.

Then one day my girls couldn’t make it, but I was dedicated to the cause so I went solo. I decided to go up the front of the class to be close to the teacher and try and follow her lead. This combination, flying solo at the front of the class, was perhaps one of the worst decisions of my life! It was like going back to primary school and reliving one of those horrible moments of public humiliation. After that, I couldn’t go back. I was too mortified and traumatised.

Months have now passed, I’ve had some good therapy sessions, and I’m feeling ready to face my fears. I’m going back to try again, and see if I can't rock that thang. You know, it's all about livin' the dream. Or at least enjoying The Dream.