How Connie Got Her Groove Back and How Belly Dancing Made it Into a Church

After 5 years of marriage, we had our first baby. 1973 was an exciting time; experiencing changes in my body, anxious to reach all the milestones in my pregnancy and the day came when we left the hospital with a perfect, tiny little boy in my arms.

Then motherhood really hit. There was the lack of sleep, the learning curve, trying to breastfeed having only a La Lache Handbook for advise. The weight gain wasn't coming off completely and I was appalled that I was likely never to get back into my wardrobe because my pelvic bones spread, the arches in my feet fell and none of my shoes fit. Worse, I couldn't even do a single sit-up and my once flat, hard tummy was flabby. I was too scared to diet because I needed to make milk and I wasn't getting any exercise because I couldn't leave the baby for very long. My husband was working long hours and away on weekends and I felt like a single mom most of the time. I was exhausted and I really, really needed some "me time."

The grocery store I shopped at in Castro Valley was called the Co Op, a concept that the store is owned by it's shopping members to save on food cost. Being a Berkeley organization, it also offered community classes for special interests like Chinese cooking, gardening, backpacking, quilting or belly dancing. My sister, who actually read the Co Op newsletters that had the new class announcements was the first to sign up for the belly dancing class and once I got my husband to commit to being home on dance night, I joined her. My dormant inner dancer was awakened and set free.

I dove into learning the dance and playing the finger cymbals. It was like patting your head and rubbing your tummy exercise at first. Step dip for the first two beats, hip swing on the second. We learned the cabaret style dance and some tribal dances; the ones where the rhythms got a little bazaar for a western ear, but made it all the more exotic. I quickly got through the beginning classes and went with the advanced class (at the instructor's invitation) to take a class with Roman Balentine in Berkeley, a well known male dancer and teacher at the time. Eventually I started to perform a little: one time in front of the Co Op as a practice run, once for a senior center and the very scary one at an actual night club for "student night."

Then there was going to be a big recital. My instructor and I purchased twin drums called dumbeks. These were American made and the special thing about them was that there were leather loops on the sides so that a shoulder strap could be attached. The best drums came from Iran. But at that time, Iran was closed down to the US for trade. The Shaw had been overthrown and Islamic radicals were rattling their swords at the infidel United States. Things haven't really changed much. Resources for belly dancers at that time were scarce to study customs of dance, costuming or music. We pretty much had to rely on our own impressions and what my instructor already knew. We were going to choreograph a routine playing the drum rather than the cymbals. We took some drum lessons and it was the head/tummy time again. This routine would be more tribal.

But the winds were shifting in my life. I got pregnant again and I started attending a bible study.

Once I began to seep into the "inner circle" of my fellow belly dancers, I observed that these women who had been belly dancing for years were very holistic in their spirituality; more into the psychic energy influences in life, reincarnation, auras and sometimes tarot. But although I like a good "woo-woo" story and explore what-ifs of the unknown, I just wasn't feeling very comfortable with the level of what they felt was the true nature of God and life. Though I entertained it for awhile, it felt shallow, incomplete; it didn't feed my soul.

I suffered a miscarriage and in my time of recovery, decided that the belly dancing was going to go away, or rather I was going to go away.... Enter the Fellowship.

This little bible study was a small group of young, mostly single adults. Actually, I was one of the older ones at the ripe old age of 26. The study wasn't attached to any church and for those who weren't attached to a church either, they got together at a park or wherever for Sunday worship. At some point, they decided to become an actual church and used the Masonic Lodge to meet. I think they aligned with Four Square Church, but that was always a little vague to me. There was lots of singing and music. The only instruments were guitars and I think one flute and piano. I asked the pastor if he would like me to add the cymbals where appropriate. He was uncertain, saying that anything rhythmic had to be really on. Though he didn't flat out say no, he didn't seem to encourage it either. A few weeks later, I finally got up the courage to join in. I took his concerns to heart and only emphasized with a single clear tone in the cymbals rather than a rhythm and saw a grin come across the pastor's face. I was in.

Eventually, the church being evangelical in nature, wanted to add dancing, pointing out that during the golden age of King David, there was always music and dancing during worship. So, slowly, a "dance troupe" developed with me involved. I did not belly dance for anyone, but I taught the other women how to play cymbals and drum and we danced. So, that's how I got my grove back and how my experience in belly dancing made it's influence in a church.