As a digital nomad seeking nothing more than high-speed internet and a break from the weariness of travel, I arrived in Mendoza with a limited vision of what I hoped to find. I had come from Chile, where I had been backpacking in the mountains but limited by the need for high speed internet. Little did I know, the universe had other plans in store for me.
I found myself confronted with a simple yet profound question from a newfound Mendocinian friend who asked in a slightly contentious tone: "Why are you here?" My response, a flippant remark about needing high-speed internet as a digital nomad, reflected my narrow perspective at the time. Little did I know, my journey in Mendoza would lead me down a path of self-discovery, connection, and personal transformation. I found myself on a journey that would redefine my relationship with myself world view.
Just a few years prior my world had been rocked by personal turmoil and a deep sense of disillusionment and despair. Struggling with depression and a lack of faith in humanity, I set out on a quest for something undefined, yet undeniably significant. As an ultrarunner, I had sought solace in physical exertion, traversing breathtaking landscapes and seeking camaraderie among like-minded athletes. And suddenly, I seemed to take a different path away from the values that I thought I shared with the ultrarunning community. I had become disenchanted by seeing the dark side and grandiosity of that world.
It was in Mendoza that I stumbled upon a much different way of connecting with my body, a form of communication, connecting with others and a different way of working with trauma that would forever alter my path—Tango. As a therapist I practice somatic based therapies such as EMDR and IFS, but this felt so much different, so much more meaningful. For once, I did not need words to put on my experience, I truly connected with the “felt sense”.
Encountering Tango was an unexpected detour from my familiar terrain of athletic pursuits. Initially ignorant of the cultural nuances, I found myself stepping into a Milonga, a world where connection is more important than talk and a culture I knew nothing about. Stripped of my preconceptions and my impractical Crocs, I was thrust into an intimate dance with the essence of Tango—connection with self, with others, and with the music.
In the gentle embrace of Tango, I encountered a mirror reflecting my innermost struggles and triumphs. Trauma had sculpted my nervous system, rendering me hypervigilant and disconnected from the present moment. Tango taught me to slow down, to listen, and to be present—to embody the essence of self-leadership as taught by Dick Schwartz: compassion, connection, clarity, creativity, confidence, courage, calm, and curiosity. But perhaps most importantly, Tango taught me to confront the lingering effects of trauma that had shaped my nervous system - numbness, impatience, and a relentless drive to endure at all costs.
In the gentle embrace of Tango, I found a sanctuary—a space where I could begin to unravel the layers of my trauma and cultivate a deeper connection with my body and my emotions. Like a therapist guiding a client through the depths of their psyche, Tango demanded that I confront my vulnerabilities head-on, challenging me to let go of control and surrender to the present moment.
Through Tango, I am not only finding connection and healing but also a newfound sense of purpose and direction. No longer content to merely exist as a transient observer in the world, I became determined to immerse myself fully in each experience—to embrace the richness of every moment and cultivate authentic connections with those around me. To learn the language and culture of the places I travel and start to understand the history. Just like understanding ourselves is to know our history.
With these newfound insights and a renewed sense of purpose, I am committed to immersing myself in the richness of each moment, embracing authentic connections, and nurturing a deeper relationship with myself and the world around me.
When I am dancing I need to remind myself to listen to the music because of how entangled in thought and doubt I can be that I need to remind myself to ground in the moment. During a lesson one of my teachers asked me, “Why did you move your foot?” He said, “I did not give you any information to move your foot and it seems like you get nervous so you just plow through things or cling onto me when you don’t know what is happening”. He continued to say, “It is not my job to hold the weight for the couple, you need to ground yourself. When that happens, you need to slow down, listen, ground into the floor or extend towards the sky”. This advice was no different from the instructors who taught me to drive and mountain bike again after experiencing traumatic accidents in both vectors. For example, driving school after a bad winter car accident taught me to relax my body when driving, especially when scared because when we are tense, it can send a signal of danger and cause the accident we are trying to prevent.
When I get scared I want to speed up, I panic, lose trust in myself and want to cling to others. Tango is teaching me to find that trust in myself while connecting and listening to my partner, to slow down and ground rather than rushing through and to no longer rush through the beautiful moments in life by being constantly busy, something my nervous system prefers as a result of experiencing complex trauma.
So why was I in Mendoza? I didn’t know it at the time but it was a quest for love, intimacy, connection, and understanding—of privilege, of economics, and of the human experience. My journey in Mendoza transcended the confines of language and geography. And though the journey was fraught with uncertainty and vulnerability, it ultimately led me to a place of profound self-discovery and growth.
Paria Parker also talks about the multiple identities within people and how amazing it is to find connection in places we would not expect to connect. She writes – Are we listening deeply enough to be changed by what we hear? So that we are not fixed in our own traits (or parts). The ability and willingness to be altered by someone else or an event. When we are not altered there is nothing to grow from. In relationship, it is the dance between both being altered by what you hear or experience while also maintaining a sense of integrity. She writes that “this is the heart of all community”.
In Mendoza, I found not only Tango but community and a gateway to self-discovery and healing—a reminder that sometimes, the most profound journeys begin with a single step into the unknown. As I reflect on my journey, I am reminded of the inherent vulnerability that comes with sharing one's story. Yet, I am also reminded of the power of vulnerability to inspire, connect, and heal. And so, with courage and humility, I am starting to share my journey from the perspectives of a person with no rhythm learning to dance and not take life so seriously, a therapist, traveler, adventurer, learner and ME.
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