Tango of Connection: Dancing through Intimacy with Self and Others after Cancer
Cancer survivorship. We begin our dance with NED—No Evidence of Disease— a complex choreography that requires time to master.
Dancing with NED—No Evidence of Disease—can be likened to a complex choreography that requires time to master. You don’t simply step onto the dance floor and perform like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. This NED dance calls for patience, persistence, practice, and a certain surrender to the rhythm of life. At the same time, it demands control—a delicate balance that reflects our intimate relationships with ourselves and others.
This intricate dance evokes the tango, a dance I embraced in preparation for a trip to Buenos Aires after my marriage ended. An advertisement for “Midnight Tango Lessons” lured me into a month-long adventure called Unsettled—an apt descriptor for both the tango and the journey through survivorship and intimacy.
Tango is often described as "the dance of entwined limbs in conversation," symbolizing a profound connection between partners. It reflects the intricate relationship between love, hardship, and shared experience, much like our own journeys in relationships. Just as in tango, we must engage in honest dialogues—whether with ourselves or with a partner—to foster real intimacy.
In her thought-provoking article, "Tango: A Feeling That Is Danced," Valleda C. Ceccoli, PhD, highlights the psychological parallels between the gravitas of tango and the experience of survivorship. She speaks of tango as “a feeling that is danced,” a concept that resonates deeply in our pursuit of genuine connections with ourselves and others. Just as we seek a state of NED—a momentary reprieve from the shadows of disease—we also desire connections that allow us to flourish.
Yet to achieve that depth of connection, we must first learn the dance. Just as tango draws on its rich cultural roots, our relationships are shaped by our histories, hopes, and vulnerabilities. Tango emerged from the fusion of diverse cultural backgrounds—echoing stories of hardship and resilience. In this way, our relationships reflect a tapestry of experiences, sometimes joyous, sometimes fraught with challenges.
Tango exemplifies our universal desire for connection. As someone once said, our childhood years are often colored by the love we didn’t receive, while our adult lives are shaped by the love we fail to give.
“Our childhood years are often colored by the love we didn’t receive, while our adult lives are shaped by the love we fail to give.”
At its essence, tango is about relationship—whether with oneself or with a partner. We’ve all heard the old adage “it takes two to tango”. It involves sustained emotional dialogues, communicated through the embrace and embodied movements. In this dance, we are the protagonists of our stories, navigating the complexities of life together while improvising along the way.
To engage in this intimate dance, we must foster equal participation of both body and mind. The ongoing discourse around cancer survivorship highlights this need for balance. While vigilance in searching for signs of dis-ease is vital, we must also nurture our emotional well-being as part of our healing journey—both in the context of medical care and in fostering a healthy relationship with this new body after cancer as well as in healthy relationships where we seek intimacy and share love. Just like in tango, the real magic lies within us, requiring ongoing practice, commitment, and connection.
In the realm of intimacy, the dance between body and mind is pivotal. The leader must set the rhythm, guiding gently while allowing for a responsive interplay. Conversely, the follower embodies receptiveness, aligning with the leader’s lead and attuning to the shared energy between partners.
Together, we engage in a subtle exchange of understanding through embraces that transcend mere physical connection. It shifts two separate individuals into one fluid unit, forging a bond that signifies safety and trust. Within this intimate dance, emotions come alive—bringing both partners into a sweet, passionate, and meaningful interaction.
The quality of our relationships is heavily influenced by our level of commitment to this dance. How present are we with ourselves and each other in each moment? How do we negotiate feelings as they arise, adjusting and flowing in harmony with one another?
In tango, we find a beautiful loop of give and take—an ongoing negotiation with our own selves and with others where communication flourishes in an open space. Here lies our passion: an ongoing love affair that beckons us to dance with sincerity and authenticity.
However, there are moments of disruption; intrusive thoughts about scans, tests, and second guessing our body’s ability to heal. There are moments of disruption in our relationship with self, second guessing the choices we have made, and ability to trust our intuition, what our body mind has to say. There are moments of disruption in relationship with others creating the illusion of an impasse, clouding possibility. The uncertainties of life can invade our minds. In those challenging times, let us remind ourselves of the body’s strength and resilience, even amidst worry. The mind may lead, but we must surrender to the dance of the body, allowing ourselves the grace to respond to the rhythm of life.
The dance of survivorship—and indeed, any meaningful relationship—is an intimate dialogue between our minds and bodies. It’s crucial to acknowledge our need for vigilance while also allowing ourselves the joy of presence.
So, let’s cultivate practices that quiet our minds, allowing space for authentic connection. Let's commit to this nuanced dance of love—embracing the intricate tango that enriches both our relationships with ourselves and our connections with others. Keep dancing, for in both intimacy and survivorship, the beauty of life unfolds in every step we take together.
Final note: My Unsettled experience invited me to reconnect with my body, carved by cancer, several times a week during my tango classes and milonga dances. More importantly, it helped me connect my body to my mind. The first step in many since allowing harmony within, sparking the possibility to experience harmony in relationship with another. It truly all starts with that first step. (Fun shoes definitely help!)
This post resonated with me, Kathy. Healing post illness is indeed an intimate dance between body & mind. I really like the dancing metaphor you have used to describe your experience. I tell myself everyday/repeat throughout the day: I trust my body.