Burn Baby Burn: When You're Just Tired of Dancing

Harry Furniss, State Library of New South Wales

Sometimes, it can get to be too much.

Whether it's the drama, the back-to-back shows, the in-fighting, or just your life outside of dancing, you feel like you can't even find it in you for a good shimmy.

And that's okay.

It doesn't always mean you're not a dancer anymore, or you're ready to quit. Sometimes you just need a break. Sometimes, you need to take care of life. Sometimes, you just need to find a new troupe. But if you find yourself approaching burnout, you need to take a step back and figure out what's bothering you before you just want to throw up your zills and quit.

The last thing you want to do is walk away from dancing and regret the decision later in your life. So how do you keep that from happening?


First, recognize the signs
If you're supposed to be going to class and instead you're trying to think of anything to make you late or keep you from going, you're definitely trying to avoid class. Or if you do get to class but don't give it your all, there may be a problem. Are you just tired that day? Something in your personal life affecting it? Is this another night this month that you just don't feel like dancing? Are there dancers you're trying to avoid? Sit down and figure out why you don't want to go to class. This is an excellent time to freewrite in your dance journal. Just get out your journal and pretend you're five again: "I don't wanna go to class. I don't wanna dance. I don't wanna stretch out. I don't wanna do our choreography again. I don't wanna listen to Miss Perfect getting praised again. I don't wanna listen to them complain about everything." Keep your pen moving, and you'll start writing down the real reasons you don't want to go.

Okay, I know why I'm avoiding class. Now what?
Once you've figured out where the problem is, you have to figure out what you're going to do with it. Is your class preparing for a performance that you don't want to do? Are you tired of having to relearn the same things over again? Are you learning something new that you're having too much trouble with while everyone else seems to get it? These require a talk with your teacher. Ask if you can sit out the performance (and don't ever be afraid to sit out a performance!), or take privates with her to improve other areas and give yourself a challenge. Or ask if you can move to another class--maybe you feel like you're ready for the next level, or there's another class that's not going to perform. It never hurts to just ask.

If your problem is with the drama of your fellow dancers or teacher, then it might be time to find a new class. You definitely don't want other dancers impacting your enjoyment of bellydance, but it can happen. Ask other dancers for recommendations, or check out your local bellydance hub. It's hard to start over again, but burning out because of other dancers' drama is even harder.

If it's your personal life that's making you avoid dance class, talk to your teacher about taking a break. Work, family, kids, spouse--sometimes life just gets in the way.  Remember that the most important thing is for you to take care of you first. If it means taking a break from dancing, there is nothing wrong with that! If you're worried that you won't return to class after a break, discuss a potential restart date with your teacher, and mark it on your calender, then set a reminder a week before. When that reminder goes off, discuss with your teacher and/or family your return to dancing, and see if you need a longer break or if you're ready to get back into the swing of things.

Before the burnout
Again, the most important thing you can do is take care of you. If you really love dancing, you don't want to burnout early. Take a break, change your classes, but most of all, don't be afraid to speak up. The worst thing you can do is do nothing and then bellydance is no longer enjoyable to you no matter what you do.  And there's also your fellow dancers to talk to--tell them what you're going through, and I'm sure they'll be able to tell you of the time they almost quit, and how glad they didn't, and what they did to get through it!

All I learned about bellydance I learned from dancing at Renaissance Faire

Ruth St. Denis, New York Public Library

I just finished a 6-weekend stint of dancing at the Southern California Renaissance Faire. While I definitely didn't learn everything I need to know about bellydance from dancing at the Ren Faire, I definitely learned a couple of things about performing.

Be ready for anything
When I signed up to dance at the Ren Faire, it was with the understanding that I would be dancing ATS with a group. However, it quickly became apparent that there was plenty of opportunity for solos, and not just any kind of solos, but solos with props. As a primarily ATS dancer, I'm not used to dancing with props, but I had to learn how to handle a veil pretty quickly. By my last day, I was using veil in all but one of my solos, and now I enjoy veilwork. It's something I'm definitely going to explore as a solo dancer.

How to dance to live music
My main troupe dances to live music for most of our performances, but there's a world of difference between dancing group improv to live music and improving a solo to live music. With group improv, or even just ATS, you still have a set vocabulary to stick to. With an improvisational solo,  anything goes. Suddenly your mind goes blank, you have no idea what to do next, and the music feels like it just sped up and you're standing on stage staring at the audience. What works with ATS, though, also works for solo improv. Start with something simple and mindless while you're thinking about what to do next. Add a turn, start to travel with it a little, and remember to breathe. By my last show, I felt like I had eons of time to think about what to do, and I was able to get a little bit creative while I was dancing.

How to dance to fast music
I love the slow, slinkiness of dancers like Rachel Brice. It's actually really easy to dance slow once you've mastered control of your own body. It's a lot harder to dance fast. So when I was faced with dancing to fast, live songs, or even dancing ATS to music faster than I'm used to, I had a hard time keeping up. I mentioned this to my teacher, who came out and danced with us one day, and she said something that made perfect sense to me: halftime it. If the music is too fast for me, I don't have to keep up with the beat. I can halftime it, and still look like I'm with the music.

Co-existing with other dancers
When you've got a dozen or so dancers all in each others' space weekend after weekend, drama is bound to happen. Tempers will flare, egos will get stepped on, and bellydancers will be pitted against bellydancers. Luckily, most of the drama did not directly involve me, so I just stayed out of it. I did nearly found myself in the middle of it a few times, and was ashamed to say I didn't immediately follow my instinct and do what I felt was right at the time. In future, I will do what I feel is right and fair. I also realized that my opinions of other dancers were formed based on the opinion of a dancer I'm friendly with. After spending some time with those other dancers, I realized that I should form my own opinions for myself.

I am a dancer!
After 6 weeks of dancing to live music, I learned that I can actually dance. I also feel less intimidated by dancing solos, since I've now been dancing them almost every weekend for the last six weeks. It also helped that I had several audience members and even my teacher compliment me on my dancing. Surprising at first, but the compliments felt good. And now I'm a lot more assured of my ability to get on a stage and move my body to music.

All in all, my experience dancing at Ren Faire was a good one. I think I might go back again next year if I'm asked back. It's a fun way to spend the spring, and I know that next year, I'll be better prepared!

You Have to Want It

Martin Rubenstein and Kathleen Gorham; State Library of New South Wales

What's the difference between a pre-professional dancer and a wannabe-professional dancer?

They both want to be a professional dancer one day. Both want to have their own studio, or travel around the world teaching and performing. They both want to write off makeup and hair product on their taxes and both want closets full of costumes. So what's the difference?

The difference is that the pre-professional wants it. She dreams it, breathes it, eats it. She wants it so bad that she gives up other things that aren't as important to her in favor of dance class, practicing on her own, cross-training, workshops, and anything else that will help further her dance career.

She wants it so bad that she knows she is never done learning how to dance, that each teacher, each workshop instructor, each fellow dancer, can and will have something new to teach her. She wants it so bad that she knows even the beginner dancers, the ones who have been dancing for six weeks, or a year, or even a day less than she has, will still have something new and exciting to share with her.

He wants it so bad that he keeps his mind open to every possibility. He tries a different style of dance class for cross-training or to see if he can learn something new to add to his movement vocabulary. He studies with teachers outside his style, and dances with dancers of different styles to see what else there is. He refuses to dismiss dancers or performances because they're not 'real' bellydance.

She wants it so bad that she knows the work is never over. No one is going to hand her the perfect gig, or the perfect costume, or the perfect stage lighting. She has to work with the best she's got, no matter what, and make it look like she didn't have to get ready in a broom closet with a broken light and six other dancers. She knows that if she wants a slot in the show she has to be nice to people, and help them out when they need it, or even help them out when she doesn't need anything from them. She knows that she has to act like a professional, even if she isn't yet, because she's always training for the job she wants.

A pre-professional dancer will become a professional dancer. One day, after a lot of hard work, money, classes, and Tiger Balm, she'll get her first paying gig, or she'll receive the keys to her new studio. She will smile to herself, maybe share a toast with her dance sisters or lover or family, then get back to work.

The wannabe-professional dancer will keep fantasizing about that day, and wonder why no one's given it to her yet.

I'm Just Not Creative!

Chorus Girls, 192-; New South Wales Collection

Ever think you're one of those people who just can't be creative? Do you listen to a song and think you could come up with the best moves to do with it, but when you try dancing to it, you can't remember any of it? Do you see other dancers' beautifully handmade costumes and wonder if you could ever make those costumes yourself? Or have you ever seen a really great stage show and thought to yourself "Where did they learn to do that? I could never be that creative!"

While just getting on a stage and dancing in public is difficult enough, really getting good at putting on a show might seem like an impossible skill. And it is hard: there's the music you have to pick, the costumes you have to put together, the choreography to come up with, your makeup and hair to do. Doesn't it ever feel like some of this stuff just comes naturally to other dancers? Don't you ever wonder if there's a secret to being creative?

Well, there is, and it's very simple: Practice.

Just do it!
The secret to getting better at being creative is to practice at being creative. You've going to have to work at it. Dance every chance you get, perform every chance you get. Put on music and try to make up something to go with it, even if it's just a 24-count section. If you're worried about someone seeing your attempts, lock yourself in your room or studio. You might feel uncoordinated or silly, but do it anyway.

If it's costuming you're having trouble with, just start pulling all your bellydance costuming out of the closet. Or, pick another dancer's costume and try to put together something similar using just the items in your closet. Just because you're not going to wear it on stage doesn't mean it's wasted time. You can even put the costume on and parade around the house in it, maybe film yourself dancing it a few times.


But I've tried to and I'm just not any good!
Have you really, though? Have you tried making up choreography or improv to a song? Have you done more than one performance? Have you tried dancing for your friends to see what they think? Have you gone out in public in that costume? You're better than you realize, but when you look at yourself through your own eyes, it's hard to see yourself as a great dancer.


Another thing that will help is to practice with friends. Put together a choreography workshop where you and your friends can work on individual pieces. It really helps to get feedback on your work sometimes, and you'll find that you're not as bad as you think you are. With your costume, get your friends together and do a costume swap. Throw everyone's things in the middle and start pulling pieces out and put costumes together.

Keep it simple
If you're still having trouble coming up with choreography or costumes, just narrow it down. Find a piece of music you like, and challenge yourself to use the same three moves. See what you can do with it. Record yourself if you can, and see what you can come up with during that time. Or, if you already know a choreography from class, just do the same choreo to the same music, and change the emotion. Do it sad, or romantic, or angry, and watch how the emotion completely changes the pieces.

With a costume, put together a 'dance uniform' and just add one or two things to it to make it different each time. Start with a basic skirt and bra, then change up the jewelry or belt, or do something different with your hair. Play around with your accessories.

Record, record, record
While you're playing around with choreography and costuming, make sure you keep a record of all the things you do. Pick up a cheap video camera, or record yourself on your phone. Take pictures of your costumes, either while you're wearing them or laid out somewhere. Keep them somewhere on your computer, and date them, so you can go back and watch yourself progress.

Before you know it, you'll have become much better at being a creative dancer, and you'll wonder how on earth you ever thought you couldn't do it!

Goal-setting you dance career

Corean Beauty, Cornell University Library

We all want to become better dancers, but for every dancer, 'better' is different. Some dancers just want to be able to perform every once in awhile. Some dancers want a fun way to get fit. And some dancers want to make a career out of it. We all have our dance dreams, the little fantasies we indulge ourselves with when our teachers compliment us or we have a good performance, but do you know how to make those dreams a reality?

What Do you Want?
To start, you need to know what you want. What do you imagine when you picture your ideal dance career? Do you want to make a living from dancing or teaching? Do you just want to be able to do a backbend? Do you want to perform a set number of times a year?  Write it down, and don't worry if it sounds stupid or you're afraid you'll never accomplish it. Just seeing it, written out in front of you, will make the dream that much more real to you.

However, just writing down your fantasy doesn't mean you'll end up accomplishing it. In fact, the best way to motivate yourself is by imagining your fantasy, then imagining the consequences of not pursuing your goal. By knowing exactly what it'll cost you to not move ahead, you'll be more likely to accomplish your dreams.

Making it Real
Now, give yourself a specific deliverable. If you want to quit your job and dance full time, how do you want to accomplish that? High-end shows, teaching workshops, making and selling costumes? How much do you want to make from this? If it's a physical goal, such as mastering swordwork, what does that mean to you? Maybe you want to perform a sword piece at a big bellydance show.

Whatever your deliverable is, make it as specific as possible, so you know exactly what you're shooting for.

Now that you have that down, you need a timeframe to shoot for you, and for this, you need to make sure that it's actually possible. If you want to do Rachel Brice-like backbends but are at the chiropractor's every other day, you might be shooting for the impossible--not that you shouldn't try, but you've got to work within your own constraints. On the other side of the coin, if you want to make two grand a night performing by the end of the year and you've only been dancing for 6 months, you may have to reconsider your deliverable for the short term. If you know you want to go for the gold but aren't sure how long it's going to take, try making your short-term goal smaller. For instance, instead of living off the money you make teaching in 6 months, set a goal to make up half your regular income from teaching and start there. Whatever your goal is, make sure it's manageable, and isn't so large that you feel like it's not worth it and give up.


The Last Step
Now that you know what you want, though, isn't that enough?

Not really, no. You now need to decide how you're going to achieve that goal. If you want to be able to perform a backbend without breaking your back, write out an exercise plan to improve your back flexibility and strengthen your core muscles. Look for a yoga class to take once a week, or try strength training with plank and pushups. How much time a week are you going to have to spend on working on your backbends? Figure out when you can practice and put it in your calender. Let your friends and family know that you are practicing and can't be bothered.

If you want to get paid to perform, start looking up places to dance at. Talk to other dancers who gig for money, and find out if they can put in a good word for you. Start working on sets, research how much you should ask for, and practice, practice, practice!

Now What?
Now that you know what you want and how you're going to get it, comes the hard part: the long, slow slog to accomplishing your goal. Here, it helps to have a partner in crime. If you've got a dance friend who is trying to accomplish their own goal, buddy up with them and help each other stay on track. Check in with one another and help each other get your work done.

Another thing you can do is talk to someone who does what you want to do. If it's a teacher you admire, ask them to give you some tips and help you work out your plan. If it's a professional dancer, contact them and ask a few questions on how they do it. Or if there's just another dancer in your community who can do something physically incredible, ask them how they did it.

And whatever you do, track your progress. Just mentally looking back on all you've done will not show you results. It's better to have tangible evidence of your progress. Start a dance journal, fire up Excel, videotape your practices. Even if it's just jotting down what you did that week to accomplish your goal and reporting on your progress so far, when you read back on it it, you'll be impressed. And there's no better cure for feeling down then revisiting your progress.

So, now you know how to accomplish your dance goals. Time to get started!

"I'm a Terrible Dancer!"

Lee Celledoni, 1947 State Library of Queensland

I have a solo performance coming up next week, so I've been busy planning costumes and songs and practicing to those songs in costumes. And, as it never fails, I've been feeling pretty terrible about my dancing.

I very much want to do more solo performances, but every time I prepare for one, I feel like the worst dancer in the world. My songs aren't right, my costumes aren't right, I look nothing like how I imagine myself to be in my head--everything is terrible.

Luckily, I remember the wise words of some wonderful dancers I've met. In this case, it's Princess Farhana: "People can barely leave a coherent voicemail, let alone get on a stage and dance!"

Most of the time, your audience aren't dancers themselves, and won't even know how skilled you are compared to the dancers you admire. To them, you're doing things they think they never could do. And other dancers will admire your courage to get up on that stage. I've even talked to members of my troupe, and they are sometimes surprised that I've taken the stage alone. It's something that scares them too much to attempt too often.

Then there's just the practice. The show I'm dancing for is a regular local show, with lots of opportunities for dancers looking to practice performing. In fact, the audience rarely gets above 25 people. If you're lucky enough to have a similar venue in your area, you should be signing up as often as you can. Each time, it'll get easier to get up on that stage, and even better, you can have someone videotape each of your performances, and watch yourself improve.

You're not a terrible dancer. Neither am I. There's still many dancing years ahead, and as dancers, we should take any opportunity to improve ourselves, and get used to performing on a stage.

For now, I'm not going to worry so much about my perceived lack of skill. The whole point is to have fun, and to share the stage with some great dancers. And, with any luck, I'll learn something from this performance!

Know Thyself: How a Dancer's Body Works

Don Athaldo, Powerhouse Museum Collection

One of the things I cherish the most about learning how to dance is the fact that I know my body better than I ever have before. For instance, before I started dancing, I didn't know how many muscles were in my abs, or how they worked. Or why I couldn't ever sit on the floor with my legs straight out in front of me. Or why I always got foot cramps. But now that some of these things can impede or improve my dancing, I've been forced to figure out those whys.

In the process, I've learned more about how my body works and feels, which I think is the most important thing for every bellydancer.

You don't need me to tell you how body conscious the world is. Everyone is always on a diet or trying out a new exercise regime, but does anyone really know their body? All of it, even the wobbly bits and the parts that stick out funny and the muscles and joints that ache at certain times? You might be able to point out the parts you wish you could change with your eyes closed, but would you even know where to start changing things?

Dancers need to know their bodies. But with over 200 bones and more than 600 muscles, not mention all the tendons, joints, and ligaments that come with it, where are you supposed to start?

I began with an anatomy book. There are several out there for dancers, though my favorite one is actually an anatomy book for yoga. If you prefer to watch rather than read, there's DVDs and Youtube videos on anatomy, as well as countless diagrams all over the internet. When you're learning a new move, or trying to figure out how to access a particular muscle, having a diagram that shows you what you're aiming for is instrumental, and makes things so much easier.

Then there's practice. Practice with mirrors, practice with a teacher, practice with a friend. You need to be able to see your body working, get feedback, and sometimes, you need to see how things work on someone else before you can do it yourself. Mirrors are great because you get immediate feedback--but sometimes your brain can lie to you and tell you you look better than you actually do. That's where your dance teacher comes in. My teacher encourage us putting our hands on her (with her permission, of course) so we can actually feel the muscles she's using to drive a move. And a good dance teacher will always be able to look at you and see that you're using the right (or wrong) muscle. And if you have a dance friend, dancing with them and seeing how they perform can help you, as well. You can see how moves look on different body types, and maybe learn a thing or two about how to emulate them.

Finally, there's just the knowledge that comes with time. You can speed it along a little by doing cross-training: yoga, pilates, strength training--even another dance class. Any of these will teach you how to access certain muscles you didn't even know existed, as well as strengthen them for use in your dance. It also helps to watch other dancers and see if you can figure out how they're performing a certain move. Or, better yet, ask! Most dancers will be more than willing to give you a quick breakdown of something (just make sure you respect their time).

If you really want to get good at what you're doing, you need to know your body, because most often, that's the only tool you're using on the dance floor. So grab a book, a friend, or just a mirror, and get started in getting to know you.