For the next week, the pair got into a rhythm of practicing the basics, Camille putting herself on display, and then Teri working to find her own style in her dancing. It didn't always happen in that order, but her own original dancing was what Teri feared the most. She'd always thought she was screwing something up, and was exposing her insecurities about failure to the world like that. It was near the end of the week before she tried and tried and tried, but tripped, fell, and ended in a screaming heap onto the floor, where she screamed louder, tears starting to form in frustration.
It was more like torture than dancing in Teri's mind, and she felt ready to quit. She would've quit the unorthodox teaching from day 1 if it wasn't for Camille herself, and her understanding nature, showing confidence in a way that had yet to yield results. It felt nice to have a teacher challenge and even dare to understand her more than understand only certain parts of her. Mrs. Cantor cared, but it was limited, surface-level kind of caring, and Teri had to admit that part of that was her fault, though she wished for a nurturing force to cut through her obstinateness. Her nurturing nature brought Camille to the floor where Teri lied, first checking to see if she'd hurt herself, then staying down at her side. Anytime something like this happened, someone would ask if she was hurt or to keep her composure. Camille held her hand, and placed the other on her shoulder wordlessly, showing her that she was ready to embrace Teri until the bad feelings went away. She held back tears at Camille's sincere, big-sisterly expression. They both rose to their feet, and Camille pointed out
"That wasn't failure, Teri. That was dancing."
Camille didn't let Teri rebuke what sounded like a ridiculous assertion.
"Dancing was never meant to be only a set of practiced motions or a means of competition. It's expression, for better or for worse. Sometimes, we all need to fall, if nothing else to know how tall we are."
Teri couldn't help but giggle at her afterschool special rhetoric, no matter how sincere Camille was.
"You know, my Aunt originally taught me belly-dancing in her studio in Tripoli. I was about six, but I'd seen so much dancing, I was more than ready to show off what I knew. And I was bratty enough to think I knew it all. But you know what my first lesson ended up being?"
"No...?" Teri asked, confused.
"Stay right here, please." Camille asked as she moved to one of the back rooms of the studio. She came back with several pillows under each arm. She placed them in a hexagon shape around Teri's feet. She took one of Teri's hands in her own from outside the pillows and said gave her her next instruction.
"Spin," she told her student, raising their hands up. Though confused, Teri did as she was told, and picked up the pace of spinning like a ballerina.
"No, slowly spin Teri. Even slower. And close your eyes as you do so."
Teri made the adjustments, holding her free hand to her stomach. Camille praised her once her pupil reached the speed she desired.
"That's right. Spin for me. Whether you believe it or not, this is dancing right now. This is movement, this is beauty, this is a path to mastery of your movement. Don't worry if you get lost, if you feel lost. I was lost too when I spun, just as you could be lost as you spin. Sometimes, when things spin out of control, it's not always a bad thing. You gain perspective in the spin, you start to realize what becomes important to amongst the dozens of things pervading, or invading your life. It's like going to sleep, where you also lose control, where you lie down and realize that no matter how busy your life may be, you still need rest, where you can lie and focus on your breathing and realize that you've been doing this life-enduring act all day, and you take it less for granted as you might take a big, deep breath before sleep overcomes you. And when that sleep overcomes you, you begin to lose yourself. You sleep, you lose control for a time, your mind spins into itself, changing what you know for a time, giving you sometimes the most wonderful dreams."