Is there an equation for that move?

It is no secret that science is my passion in life. If you want to see me saturated with enthusiasm just engage me in conversation regarding such topics as nuclear magnetic resonance, bacterial communication through quorom sensing, levels of protein structure, or nucleophilic substitution reactions. I admit that NOVA Science Now is one of my favorite television shows and that I anxiously await the arrival of my weekly edition of Chemical & Engineering News. As proud as I am to be a gushing science nerd, I think it is important to be a multi-faceted individual. This summer, my sister and I are taking weekly belly dancing courses. How is that for multi-faceted?

I have been intrigued with belly dancing for several years now. One of the things I find most appealing about this dance is how it embraces all body types. There is no need to go on a ballerina diet it you want to belly dance. In fact, it seems that the curves (the ones we are SUPPOSED to have) of a women are what makes it so beautiful. I admire that belly dancers are confident in exposing their bellies, whatever size they may be.

What I had not realized about belly dancing was how it would challenge me to think in a way I am not accustomed to. The way I think when I am doing science is the way I think about the world much of the time. My analytical, logical, and systematic critical thinking does not stay at my desk when I leave for the day. During belly dancing class I find myself wanting to shout, "Can you draw a diagram of that move using arrows to show the direction of muscle movement?" or "Is there an equation for that move?" When I fall behind in class I stop moving and observe the teacher, an intense look of concentration upon my face. During one of these moments, a couple of classes ago, I looked over at my sister. I could tell she was a bit lost too. However, she wasn't just standing there analyzing the situation. She was dancing away to her own interpration of the move. She didn't care that she couldn't follow each precise movement that the teacher was making. Looking at her made me realize that standing there was just making me fall behind further. I'm so used to being in my head that it feels strange to just let my body move in a free fall sort of way. An unexpected outcome of this course is that I am learning that sometimes in life you should just stop thinking and do something already; there is a such thing as OVER analysis. Maybe before my next class I should hit happy hour to quiet my frontal lobe a bit.

Thanks sis, for not being afraid to be who you are :).