Muse

One day, while attending a tango lesson, the instructor asked us to dance to a song that had no lyrics. As I tried to find inspiration from the music, I got lost in thought, wondering what the song was trying to say. I daydreamed about what the lyrics could be and what story the music was telling.

Suddenly, I tripped over my own feet and almost fell to the ground, startling my dance partner. As I tried to regain my balance, I realized that my tango daydreaming had taken me too far.

Embarrassed, I tried to explain to my dance partner what had happened. I told her that the imaginary lyrics of the song had distracted me, and that they had caused me to lose focus.

My partner looked at me, confused. “What lyrics?” she asked.

I quickly realized that I had been so consumed by my imagination that I had forgotten that not all tango music had lyrics. In my mind, every song had a story to tell, even if it was only in my head.
••• From then on, I attempted to focus on the music and let my body do the talking. I still enjoyed listening to tango lyrics, but I no longer let them distract me from my dance.

And so, my quest for creative inspiration through tango lyrics had ended in a humorous lesson about staying present at the moment.

As I continued my tango classes, I realized that my obsession with finding meaning in the lyrics of the music was becoming a running joke among my fellow students. They would often tease me about my overactive imagination, and I couldn’t help but laugh along with them.
••• One day, during a challenging class, our instructor put on a fast-paced tango song that had no lyrics. As I tried to keep up with the steps, I got lost in the music’s rhythm.

But just as I was feeling confident, I heard a faint whisper in my ear. “Pssst, hey you,” it said.

I stopped in my tracks, unsure of what to do. Had someone in the class just spoken to me?

The whisper came again. “Psst, hey you, listen to the music. Do you hear what it’s saying?”

I turned around, expecting to see someone trying to prank me. But there was no one there.

I shrugged it off and tried to refocus on the dance, but the voice kept whispering in my ear, distracting me from the steps.

Finally, I turned to my dance partner and asked if she had heard anything. She looked at me like I was crazy.

I tried to ignore the voice and focus on the music, but it only got louder. The more I tried to dance, the more I heard the lyrics of the imaginary song.

In desperation, I turned to the instructor and asked if he knew what was going on. He just laughed and said, “Looks like you’ve finally found your tango muse.”
••• I realized that my obsession with the lyrics of tango music had taken on a life of its own. The voice in my head had become a part of my dance, inspiring me to move in new and creative ways.

And so I embraced my tango muse, letting it guide me through the steps and fueling my creativity. From that day on, I danced with a renewed sense of joy and freedom, inspired by the imaginary lyrics of the music.