Dancing
For Your
Immune System
by
Barry Alan Sultanoff, M.D.
 I
dreaded turning fifty. My father had died
suddenly -- of a massive heart attack --
soon after his fiftieth birthday, on the day
that I graduated medical school. He had his
first ominous symptoms while dancing with my
mother -- on the last New Year's Eve of
his life.
For
years, I had assumed that the same thing would
happen to me. On what basis was I to believe
that my fate would be any different than my
father's had been? I told myself that for me,
there would be no "life after fifty"
to look forward to.
Instead,
I've been pleasantly surprised: I passed the
half-century mark that I had so morbidly
feared nearly five years ago. Now, I look
excitedly toward a future that holds amazing
promise.
The
years since I turned fifty have been ripe with
rich, unexpected developments and expansive
opportunities. Beyond the age of fifty, I have
done things that many would never have
considered doing -- at any age!
First
of all, I've fallen in love with in-line
skating. Nearly every day I celebrate the
invention of the wheel by appending eight hard
translucent discoids to the bottoms of my feet
-- as I lace up my boots and go sailing
off through the park on my roller blades.
I've
invented my own variation on the sport, which
I call "rattle-blading". In each
hand, I carry a multicolored "shaman's
rattle", made of papier machT and other
recycled materials. I use my rattles to warn
joggers and strollers that I'm about to zoom
by (I am still fine tuning my stopping
skills!). Sometimes, for no apparent reason, I
suddenly shift into an ecstatic frenzy,
shaking my rattles in whatever rhythmic style
I invent at the time.
Neighbors
smile at me as I whiz by them in the early
morning hours -- though one did ask me
recently whether I wasn't "a bit old for
that sort of thing", which he said he had
mainly seen "youngsters" do.
And
the Dance Goes On
By
far the most significant development of all,
though, has been my learning the Argentine
Tango. With tango, I have found my passion.
Passion turned up in a place where I would not
have expected to find it -- on the
dance floor. Tango has so swept me away that I
have tango dreams at night. I practice my
dance steps, uninhibitedly, in public places --
in parking lots, shopping malls, standing
in line at the bank or at the Motor Vehicles
Department, waiting for my girlfriend to come
out of the ladies room -- even while
clowning around at the Washington Zoo with my
favorite family of apes. What they think of me
I can hardly imagine!
I'm
convinced that each time I dance -- or
even think about dancing -- my immune
cells get up and dance, too. I imagine them
twittering among themselves about my
passionate behavior -- and reaching a
quick consensus, that life is indeed worth
living.
Even
on my worst "bad hair" days (my hair
is shorter now, in my new tanguero persona!),
these clairvoyant cells see through the fog of
my melancholy. They peer into the clearing of
my deeper intention -- to live for the
next dance!
Though
the AARP has begun to stuff my mailbox with
suggestions about what I -- now a
"senior" -- can do to
safeguard my future, I know that Argentine
Tango is my best "health assurance"
policy. I renew it daily, with vigor and pure
delight.
My
energy's at an an all-time high. I can feel my
Chi doing somersaults through the chambers of
my heart, dancing loop-de-loops around the
lobes of my lungs.
In
learning the Way of the Tanguero, I've tapped
into a style of breathing that is unlike
anything I've ever known. It's something like
breathing fast, the way the heart beats fast
whenever it recognizes that there's something
worth getting excited about. Only, it's a very
quiet breath, a kind of "inner
breath-full-ness", a breath that
instinctively knows how to be a well-mannered
guest when visiting an exotic country.
This
breath knows how to draw back into itself and
disguise itself as a whisper. It's a breath
that lives on an edge of dynamic tension --
almost exploding into an ecstatic moan --
while tastefully restraining itself from
actually doing so. It is a breath that knows
how to pause, in awe of the sacredness of the
moment.
Even
during my first several weeks of tango, after
my first few tango lessons, I was breathing
this "tango breath" so deliciously
that I could hardly contain myself -- or
manage the leaps of imagination that danced
through my awareness. I had vivid dreams of
dancing dolphins, of grand palaces with
gleaming terrazos, of vast purple skies. I
could hardly sleep at night.
Tango
is exercise, therapy, meditation,
assertiveness training, relationship training,
and recreation, all in one. It can trigger
long-forgotten memories, and fuel expansive
dreams.
Tango
involves a very special kind of breathing
practice, one in which subtlety and refinement
are king. Quiet steady breathing is the domain
from which I lead. If my mind -- or my
breath -- flutters even for an instant,
my tango partner becomes confused. She is
suddenly adrift in a sea of possibilities that
is too vast to navigate.
However,
when I breathe in tandem with her, and focus
on our next step, I give her a clear lead. Our
bodies flow. Our energies pulsate together.
Being
the leader both thrills and unnerves me. My
partner and I come together in the dance as
opposites, blending together in a dynamic
embrace. We are log and flame, burning the
boundaries between us -- as hot,
expressive energy is released.
We're
wed in this dynamic balance, as we journey
together, partners for the moment in a land
beyond words, beyond mind. As my partner
blossoms in each moment, there are endless
varieties of ways in which she may express
herself. But it's up to me to draw for her the
outlines of our dance.
One
friend, who's been dancing tango for awhile,
says that at times her experience is something
like making love. After a particularly sensual
encounter recently, after she and her dance
partner had floated together fluidly for
minutes that seemed like hours, she felt an
urge to light up a cigarette.... though she
isn't a smoker.
She
resisted that impulse to light up, but she did
pause in wonderment, to fully inhale the aroma
of that experience, before she and her partner
quit the dance floor.
Riding
the Edge
I
love to ride the fluid edge of innocence and
intimacy that tango dancing requires. I enjoy
it when my partner's movements echo precisely
my own strong lead. Equally much, I love to
dance with the spontaneous variations that she
invents.
Through
tango, I am becoming a different kind of man --
bolder, freer, willing to risk
imperfection, sporting my true colors. My body
feels supple and strong, my feet well-planted,
my mood optimistic, upbeat. I'm learning to
express myself as a strong, sensitive Samurai,
cutting through old inhibitions -- listening
to my partner, welcoming us to the dance.
Dancing
the eight-count of tango rhythm has become my
moving meditation practice. "Step, one,
two, three, four..." is my mantra. As I
clear my mind of anything that might impede
the lyrical flow between me and my partner, we
enter a garden of delights. We feast. We live!
Through
the juicy experience of tango, I have learned
this truth: All the "doing" of life,
all its myriad activities, are merely
embellishment. The real "dance of
life" is about showing up...... in each
present moment.
Though
I doubt that it's ever been tested in any
scientific study, I'm convinced that when you
live your passion -- whatever the
object of its focus may be -- you
super-charge the cells of your immune system.
These cells are always "listening
in", poised to follow, taking their lead
from your attitude-in-action.
Whatever
you've concluded about your own "dance of
life", whatever story you've told
yourself about "how life is -- and
how it can be!" -- that will be a
potent cue for those parts of you whose job it
is to maintain your health and safeguard your
survival.
"I
have a passion!" is a powerful daily
sermon for your immune-cell
"congregation". The heart-felt
meaning of these words is your potent
testimony, your "letter of intent",
soul-delivered "to whom it may
concern". This bold statement conveys a
message to all of the assembled:
"Preserve this precious life that I'm
choosing to live to the fullest!" All of
your cells -- every part of you -- will
bear witness to this emphatic testimonial.
This
article is an excerpt from a manuscript in
preparation. A musical CD, Dances
with Breath, is
available with songs/poems/based on themes
from the book. For
further information, see www.humormatters.com/healingmatters.htm
 Book
by this author:
Putting Out the Fire of Addiction: A
Holistic Guide to Recovery
by
Barry Sultanoff, MD
Info/Order this book.
About The
Author
Barry
Sultanoff, M.D., is a founding member of the American Holistic Medical
Association and a charter member of the Feng Shui Guild. Dr. Sultanoff
has been a columnist for Natural Health Magazine as well as several
other periodicals. He is co-author of "Putting
Out the Fire of Addiction". Dr. Sultanoff practices whole
person medicine, emphasizing the integration of body, mind, and spirit,
in Kensington, Maryland. Among his passions are Argentine tango dancing,
in-line skating, photography, and hatha yoga. The author can be reached
at
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