Reading The Tea

(This is from a follow’s perspective, but I suspect much of it is relevant to leaders.)
    In beginning Argentine Tango classes, instructors like to remind students that it’s just walking. Everyone knows how to walk. I think that this may be necessary to prevent complete overload for people starting out. Recently though, I’ve been thinking a lot about walking. When you’re walking “normally” — out of a dance context — are you really stable?
   Stand up for a second and try something. Walk. Just your normal walk. Are you on your own axis with each step, or are you catching yourself? Isn’t walking really just a series of small falls? Now try walking again, but this time, put all of your weight directly over the supporting leg. The leg you’re on is the trunk of a tree, with roots going deep into the ground. When you’ve taken a step, you are so stable that even if someone gives you a shove, you’re able to keep standing. Grounded. On your axis. Ready to do boleos or change direction quickly.
    Here’s the paradox though: You must be fully stable, while at the same time maintaining lightness, mobility. Another visualization: your core (torso) is suspended firmly in the air by ropes around your torso. You are fully supported, so you don’t need to wobble or lean. Your shoulders are loaded on top of your rib cage with no responsibility — just along for the ride. Your legs dangle on strings from your hip sockets, like a marionette. 
   Now combine the two sensations, and you have a combination of stability and mobility. In modern dance we used to talk about finding stability through mobility, and vice versa.
     Of course, the above ignores that sometimes it’s important to have a distribution of weight on both legs, etc., etc… So many complications. But that’s what keeps it fascinating, right?