A Personal Story

During the summer while things have been quiet, I've often enjoyed stopping my work on non-teaching days a little before sunset, and walking down to the private beach club area near my home in Pelican Bay. The 1-mile walk each way is, in itself, life-affirming. I take a break from wrestling with some writing or organizational challenge, cross the street to where the berm begins, and the moment I start walking on the path through the mangroves, with its lush greenery, its various pools of murky water, its alligators, turtles and tropical birds, I instantly feel that nothing else in the world matters - that life is simply perfect.

I usually listen to some recorded seminar as I walk, waving or smiling back to tram drivers and other walkers I pass. I like integrating the enjoyment of walking in nature with learning. Sometimes, I take an extra half hour and continue walking on the beach.

Before returning home, I might stop for a glass of wine or dinner at the Sunset Bar or the adjacent Sandpiper Restaurant, reserved for Pelican Bay residents and guests. People are often friendly and open there, because we know we're all neighbors. A few individuals or couples have become my friends, my students, or my guests at a tango event.

But there are times that find no one I feel I can talk to. I see some couples sipping wine or dining in silence, facing each other without exchanging a word and without a spark of life in their faces. I've felt it would take an explosion to penetrate their walls of boredom.

It occurred to me one evening that Tango could save some of these relationships. But then I remembered all the couples I've taught who found new joy in their relationships through tango. These were basically happy relationships, even after decades, that just needed something new, exciting, and romantic to share. And they need the patience to persevere together the first few months, while learning all the basics of a whole new language. But soon things start to click, and the charm, the romance and the intimate dialogue between man and woman become real.

I still remember the night of the Farewell Dinner and Milonga my students in Italy organized for me on November 8, 2008, three days before my flight that brought me to settle here in Naples. We were in a beautiful castle. People who were my students as far back as 1998 attended. Many gave testimonials before a video camera. Others wrote their comments in a big white album, others handed me letters with their flowers, and others emailed, all talking about what tango had meant in their lives. What never got recorded were the words of the attractive 50-year old woman with short auburn hair, a powerful municipal government department manager, whose husband was an architect, a very shy and reserved man. During the evening's festivities, she threw her arms around my neck and said in my ear "I'm in love with my husband again!"

I'll tell you a secret. Ten years ago, I thought that the Pelican Bay private beach restaurant and bar was one of the most boring, depressing places on earth. My experience of it back then was of sitting across from my husband, sipping our wine or dining in silence. I used to tell him I would never need to dance with other men if only I could dance tango with him. That was truly my dream. We had to continue trying to focus on whatever we still had in common. I struggled to keep my dancing low-key: with him, his family and our colleagues. When we divorced, I "blossomed" and devoted all my energies to the dance that gave me so much life.

I didn't want there to be a moral to the story. I don't think tango or any dance can repair an unhappy relationship. But I do believe that dancing together can keep a happy relationship from losing its lustre - and bring it to even higher levels of joy.