Cassie was right...

"I love working with dancers."
Dancer? Moi?
This wonderful woman just referred to me as a dancer. How could she know? No one has referred to me as a dancer in umpteen years--myself included. Tears began to quickly spill as the enormity of that simple sentence began to inhabit my being.

This morning, I was in the office of a unique healer and bodyworker who was about to work on/with me for the first time. As I sat across from her and we were getting to know each other, she rapidly intuited several things about my physical and emotional state of being. Ah, my initial guidance in wanting to see this woman was being confirmed and I was confident that I was in good hands.

As I was positioned on her table for treatment, I asked her how did she know I was a dancer. She giggled and said it was evident to her in not only how I carried myself but also by what my body was telling her.

My little human self began chattering on and on about how I always wanted to be a dancer but haven't danced in years; I never really had a dance career but it was all I ever wanted...and still wanted to do. In fact, my grandmother told me that I came out of the womb dancing (I was a breech baby coming out feet first). I came up with all the excuses, reasons and justifications as to why I wasn't a dancer and wasn't dancing now either.

One primary reason why I went into acting instead of becoming a trained, professional dancer was because real dance lessons cost money (that we never had) however, one could be an actor for free. The irony there is that for the majority of my time as a professional theatre actress in Hollywood, I continued to act for free in Equity Waiver theatre and scene showcases so that theoretically, I could get paying acting gigs in film and television.

The other reason I didn't become a dancer is because I didn't think I had the body for it. I always thought I was too short, too round. In my mind, I was supposed to look like Ann Reinking, Leslie Caron or be-still-my-heart, Cyd Charisse who had legs that went on forever.

And yet, when Channel 9 in Los Angeles ran every classic movie musical on "The Million Dollar Movie" I watched every airing which meant at least seven times a week I danced in front of the T.V. I learned and practiced every dance routine I could the way kids these days dance to "Barney" or "Sesame Street." My best friend, Kelly and I would do the dances from "West Side Story" in the underground parking lot in a building on La Cienega and Willoughby on Saturdays when it was empty. I danced to "Hullabaloo" and to "Shindig."

While in junior high school, we put together a group of kids that we named "The Troopers" and I staged a musical revue that we lip-synched and danced to Broadway songs. We performed at the West Hollywood Auditorium and gained local notoriety. So much so that we were bussed down to Camp Pendleton to perform a few numbers for the Marines! I cannot tell you what it was like to be a pre-teen dancing to "Whatever Lola Wants" for hundreds of young Marines! In fact, we were invited and scheduled to be flown to Viet Nam to perform for the soldiers there and my overprotective but all-American mother was even willing to let me go. However,it was 1967 and our trip was cancelled due to the war escalation and civilians were being restricted to travel. Even Bob Hope had been cancelled at that time, so in hindsight, I guess the government weren't going to send a bunch of underage kids to perform.


So, what happened?
Where did the dancer go? How did I let so much get in the way of something so very important to me? The answers to those questions are what began to flood my mind as I laid on the treatment table and my lghtworker continued adjusting my body. More tears came and went. Smiles of remembrance and recognition, too.

Although time, age, finances, and fear in one form or another kept me from carrying on with that dream, I realized today that I am still a dancer. I may have stopped dancing but I was still a dancer inside.

"Dancing with the feet is one thing, but dancing with the heart is another." ~anonymous

Perhaps now, I can allow myself to return to dancing and let my body heal and catch up with that intention.

It has been said that Life itself is a dance ... I understand that now.
A 5,6,7,8 ...

I was thrilled to learn that the redheaded dancer on "Hullabaloo" and "Shindig" was Donna McKechnie who later went onto fame and fortune starring in "A Chorus Line". Here, as my tribute to The Dancer in us all, are the lyrics to Cassie's big dance number:

"Give me somebody to dance for,
Give me somebody to show.
Let me wake up in the morning to find
I have somewhere exciting to go.

To have something that I can believe in.
To have something to be.
Use me... Choose me.

God, I'm a dancer,
A dancer dances!

Give me somebody to dance with.
Give me a place to fit in.
Help me return to the world of the living
By showing me how to begin.

Play the music.
Give me the chance to come through.
All I ever needed was the music, and the mirror,
And the chance to dance for you.

Give me a job and you instantly get me involved.
If you give me a job,
Then the rest of the crap will get solved.
Put me to work,
You would think that by now I'm allowed.
I'll do you proud.

Throw me a rope to grab on to.
Help me to prove that I'm strong.
Give me the chance to look forward to sayin':
"Hey. listen, they're playing my song."

Play me the music.
Give me the chance to come through.
All I ever needed was the music, and the mirror,
And the chance to dance...

Play me the music,
Play me the music,
Play me the music.
Give me the chance to come through.
All I ever needed was the music, and the mirror,
And the chance to dance..."