Eartha
Kit had it right. Her name itself suggests so. One needs to be kitted-out on
this earth best to coordinate with others. Then too, the 'It Takes Two to Tango'
song itself suggests the duality inherent in life; energy overcoming inertia. But
one is better off to have the steps learned, a basis by which to integrate the
variables. Yet to many the dance of life comes naturally; any partner will do.
To others, steps need first be learned. And many just don't want to dance at
all. It's as though we do not hear the same music. The rhythm is off. The beat
is unequal. Our chemistry does not jive. But some of us keep applying the
lessons, and although we may not master the steps, we certainly get to enjoy
the dance, however unnatural we initially may appear. Or awkward we may feel. Growth
can be a vertical accretion, and we learn from others.
Natural
accord is a marvelous thing. One speaks easily to another stranger on the
phone, or over a counter, like making new friends. One can do that with people
one knows too. Yet some stultifying of phrases can block up the flow with
others. It's as if some sort of disconnect is at variance with possibility,
with potential, with being commensurate as a way of life. One or the other has
not given in to the music. And the music, as we both know, takes two to
appreciate, (even though one of us may play the lead). But we certainly do not
all like the same (i)tunes.
Broken
promises are like that. A song that runs in the expectation plays, and then the
band suddenly stops playing. Broken conversations are like that. A series of
questions that run dry, because one or the other does not syncopate, does not
advance the dialogue, does not reciprocate or resonate with an adjoining. We
cannot and do not Tango. It takes a certain passion to do it well, beyond the
conventional steps, beyond the traditional expectations of contrapuntal
tensions. It takes degrees of resonance that involve similar interests, similar
experiences, similar ages, (even), and very much it is about similar cares.
Birds of a feather flock together, is Holland's Theory. (Now which part of that
really needs further explication?)
Every
'thing' resonates with our subjective apprehension of it. Everything. We like
the brick wall because.... We like the T.V. show because.... We do not like
this or that or him or her, because. It is a universal imperative that we are
selective, individual, apportioned, allotted, conscripted, and contained,
curtailed, and confabulated by our own proclivities. It is at once isolating and
invigorating. I am 'me'; not you; not he or she, but me! And the thing is, if
it takes two to tango, then I at least expect the other to know the steps!
(Who's the idiot who gave me this jarring tune, this awkward moment, this
aberrant partner, this indelicacy to my sensibilities? Who? It's their fault I
can't get it right; it's their fault I appear the fool. It's their fault the
music is off, or at a discord, or hateful, hurtful, and fraught. If not for the
anchor of others, where might one be?)
Thing
is, it takes two to tango. We are dependent on the other to make us mutually of
a 'perfect' accord, (as imperfect as the journey toward all but a momentary
perfection can ever be). If another is 'perfectly' to interact with me, then
somewhere in our chemistry there needs to be a deep recognition of our
essential humanity, not the superficiality of dance steps learned, the
artificial conventions of observing rhythm and meter and rhyme and pacing, but
the real raw and visceral reality of the fact that we are of the same species,
humankind, as differentiated as we may appear, and as differentiated as our
acculturation may be. It takes but a catching of the eye, a seeing of the light
in the soul, a reciprocity betwixt the essence of each other, and all else disappears.
Unnecessary. Acceptance is all. Compassion is all. Awareness is all. And since
it all is a part of everything, even not condoning can be 'all'. Integration is
like that. It loves every tune, but does not 'like' some. It can even
disapprove. And it certainly cares to pick its partners.
Now
then, who will come dance with me?
