It was 2010 when I hung up my hip scarf. My last hafla performance was in Orlando in a lovely red dress that shimmered from head to toe. Days before, I graced the stage at a holistic conference in Miami Shores. I sat behind a desk in shock at the amount of money I made in 20minutes vs. my regular job. My class at the shelter was given to another instructor. I walked away from it all. The costumes, shimmying, shows, haflas….all of it. It was over for me. The better part of my costumes were sold with the exception of two. My life went in other directions. It was fine. That was five years ago.
Lately, my radio has played the music of the Middle East. My English cousin arrived for a visit, and I planned a dinner in her honor at a Mediterranean restaurant that I used to frequent. The house dancer got me up to perform with her. My scarf, which was bought in Egypt, was wrapped around my waist. That was all she wrote.
Days before my shimmy, an event planner called. Crystal, that bride is having her anniversary party, and it is a Moroccan theme. Can you send me estimates for a bellydance performance? In the blink of an eye, the world that I left so long ago came knocking at my door. The same English cousin wrapped a present for me prior to arriving in America. When I opened it, finger cymbals & a book fell out. It was about bellydance.
When the universe conspires to take you down a path, if you are aware of the signs, you follow it. In this case, there is a gentle push for me to reconnect with something that brought me a great deal of happiness for a long time. I wonder what it will be like now that I am older. Will I perform again? Has my dance identity changed? What about classes, will I teach? A lot of new questions now lay on my plate.