There was this lady in a pink skirt dancing with the host, who was having fun in front of the camera crew he had allowed to film them for some commercial. I had never seen that lady before and wondered who she was. I was curious. I asked my friends, and none remembered her name. Then one suggested, "Why not ask her friends?" Suddenly I felt thrown against a wall, my own wall. That booth full of women? I was going to just go up there and ask them the name of that lady in the pink skirt? That was what I responded, more or less. But I was fascinated by the wall against which I was thrown, my own wall. Why is it there? Why did it have to be there? Where did it come from?
It was a wall of my timid self. Asking a bunch of women? about the name of another woman I never even spoke to? Wouldn't they think I had a crush or something? They didn't even know who I was. Would they be suspicious? Curious? Fascinated? I don't know.
But it took me a few seconds to overcome that wall. It felt cold, but it wasn't that high, and there weren't much of a barbed wire on the top. So I turned and walked up to the booth of ladies watching their friend dance in front of the camera. They were definitely caught off guard. But I wasn't sure if I was that cool. I probably didn't even say, "How are you doing, ladies!" or even "Hey, what's up!" Maybe, just maybe, a simple "Hi". And quickly, without introducing myself, I launched the offensive, "What's your friend's name over there?" Half of them looked perplexed. The other half seemed interested, curious. I got the name. But I am not sure if I even said "Thanks!" I can't remember. I was that nervous, I guess. Overcoming the wall means you're exhausted by the time you get to the other side.
So why was that hard? Hard for me. Hard for the ladies who were caught off guard. It would have been much simpler and less stressful. I could have just walked over, smiled, introduced myself, chitchat for a sentence or two, then ask.
But I seemed to feel I was doing something strange, if not outright wrong, out of the ordinary, improper. I worried too much about how I was presenting myself that I didn't end up presenting myself in any normal way. But when you're so flustered already, it's hard to know what to do. Then again, why was I so flustered? There's a question of self-confidence, to believe that what you're doing isn't something wrong. To be clear of your intentions and then execute it with that clarity. It's ironic that I was in tango, a dance that requires confidence and clarity of intention. So perhaps the lesson is that like tango, if you don't already have that confidence, then you should just keep trying until you gain that confidence. It isn't lost completely.
