I taught the first of six tango classes on Monday night. The class is great. It's a really nice group, 20 in all (though I'm gender-balancing it starting next week, so I'll have 22 in there). Enough people to be lively and few enough that I can see and help everybody individually. There are several people who introduced themselves as "slow learners". We'll see. I'll take that as a challenge to teach efficiently and clearly (with a good dose of silly, of course).
Our tango community needed someone to teach a weekly class; we haven't had many new dancers, and people who've been interested haven't had any place to take regular lessons. We needed someone to take a bunch of beginners, give them skills, keep them encouraged, show them how to love tango. I didn't really have time to do it...but I knew I would be good at it. I said I would do it, and I knew it would be fun. I just didn't expect to love it this much.
Last night I was at the practica dancing with one of my students. "Wow, you feel completely different!" I said. He told me he's been doing the posture homework during the day in his office. It shows. On Monday night he had said, "I have a body that doesn't move." In two days it's started to unwind.
I can't wait to teach the next class. Ever since I said I'd do it, I've been absolutely certain that the class would be great. I have no idea why; It's very unlike me. Somehow it seems to have come true. I've been happy all week, and focused, finally, after a couple months of feeling sort of aimless. I'm even back on track with the tiny house. This kind of teaching, when I get energy back from a group of students? It's magic.