Waking dreams are the most interesting to ponder (even if they are the only ones I can now recall). This morning’s had the words in the title. What on earth was running through the caverns and labyrinths of my wild unconscious before it succumbed to its waking tethers?
A brief research of the origins and history of Tango on Wikipedia suggests the dreaming link might have something to do with a defiant response to a dominant threatening pandemic akin to the relationship of slavery, conquest and colonial powers.
My uneducated notions of the Tango seem to match this impression. Oppressed peoples succumb to the power of their overlords with a kind of matched syncopation that requires cooperation with the imposed restrictions. But there is a background defiance that finds creative expression in both music and movement.
I recall my early teenage judo lessons that taught me not to resist the power that is being wielded against you, but to move with it in such a way that it becomes your ally.
It seems to me that this is what many of us are attempting as we live in the isolation imposed on us by an invisible pandemic. We set up neighbourhood email networks, streets organise driveway happy hours, and apartment blocks sing from balconies. In Oz we have even taken to naming our nemesis “the ‘Rona.”
It seems we, as left footed as we may be, are learning to tango.