Is It Too Late for Me to Start Dancing?
It is quite common to feel like we’re running late for something in life. In the midst of all this speed, we often create unnecessary stress for ourselves, feeling like there’s always some place we can’t quite reach in time. Alongside this stress, there are also the dreams we’ve never taken a step toward, the things we watch from afar and think, “I wish I could do that.” So many people ask me, “Is it too late to start dancing?” or “Is it too late for me to become flexible, to soften up?” Of course, starting at 40 may not lead to a career as a professional ballerina, but if we understand what dance truly is in a broader sense, we’ll see that there’s no such thing as being too late.
We tend to define dance by the forms presented to us—by extreme flexibility, by the ability to perform moves that others find difficult, by looking graceful, and by being highly skilled. Yet, at its core, dance was once a simple means of communication and ritual, a tool that humanity has effortlessly used throughout the ages. Since the beginning of time, there has been rhythm, and there have been movements that accompany that rhythm.
In the past, there wasn’t even such a thing as “being a dancer.” Every individual in the community participated in rituals and moved together. I highly doubt anyone was evaluating who moved better; the purpose was not to execute a movement perfectly but to be present within the movement, with emotions and passion. What do we gain from moving “perfectly,” anyway?
Moreover, what does “perfect movement” even mean?
Perhaps our first priority should be to free dance from the rigid molds we’ve placed it in. In fact, in many academies, they no longer refer to dance as “dance,” but rather as “movement techniques.” This is because when we hear the word “dance,” our minds immediately go to something specific, though dance, at its essence, is not a fixed form. By calling it movement technique, they aim to broaden perception. Even in university, I didn’t take a course called “dance.” The course titles were “movement techniques,” “creative improvisation,” “performance studies,” or “somatic practices.”
If you’re not chasing a specific form or a defined idea of “rightness,” then you’re never too late for anything. The feeling of being too late only arises where our expectations of ourselves are too high. But if our desire is to explore, to experience, to discover how we can transform and understand our dialogue with movement, to remember what it means to be embodied, then it doesn’t really matter how old we are.
In fact, I sometimes mention in classes that “I often find it harder to teach those with a classical dance background.” A body that has long tried to perfect itself may not feel comfortable improvising in response to what it feels. It can overdo things. Instead of sensing the connection and the echoes a movement creates, it can become mechanical, leaving the movement as just that—a movement.
This is also a choice and an area of exploration, but if we accept that dance is humanity’s oldest ritual, there must be deeper meanings here… And these meanings may manifest differently in each of us.
If music is calling you, if you feel a spark inside when you watch a dance video, if you find your body moving on its own, if you are mesmerized by the dance of the universe, then you are already in the dance. All you need to do is give your body a little guidance in how to express itself. Learn how to let emotions flow through your body, discover the subtle connections within, and realize just how unified a structure you are. With patience, give your body a bit of dance each day, a space for movement—just as you would feed it daily nourishment.
And if you start now, in five years, you will have been dancing for five years. But if you keep saying, “It’s too late to dance,” and continue watching from afar, in five years you’ll still be saying the same thing. Instead of spending time saying that, you could use that time to start right now.