The Flamenco Show that Moved My Soul and the Secret Behind It💃

Something magical happened at a flamenco show in Sevilla. And I'm here to tell you about it.

Hey Amigos!

I’m back in the US after spending a month away from home. As you can imagine, my mind is filled with memories, intertwined with to-do lists and the realities of life. (🤯x1000)

And although I’m really trying to “be here now” and get back into the swing, I keep thinking back to my trip to Lisbon/Cascais/the Algarve, thanks to the lovely Ines and Marta from Visit Cascais, and Carlos, Jorge, and Beatriz of Tee Times Golf Holidays.

Sunset pic in the Algarve.

After my golf trip, I spent two weeks working on my Español through an immersion program with Language and Luxury. I lived like a local and immersed myself in the culture and language of Sevilla and Madrid. The one-to-one language instruction and personalized guides took language learning to a new level. I not only improved my Spanish, but also learned about the history of Sevilla and Madrid, and gained insight into the daily life of Spaniards… through the eyes of Spaniards.

One of the highlights of my time in Sevilla was exploring local haunts on a food tour with Eating Europe.

In addition to the food tour pictured above, I also learned about customs native to Sevilla… one of those being flamenco. Sevilla is not only the birthplace of flamenco, but it’s also home to the Museo del Baile Flamenco - the only Flamenco Dance Museum in the world. It was founded by Cristina Hoyos, the most awarded flamenco dancer and choreographer of all time.

Now, most people would be excited to go to a flamenco show. Me? I was a little afraid (which I know is a weird thing to say)…for a reason you may not suspect.

What you need to know is that I suffer from a condition, and I was afraid it would strike during the performance.😳

Nothing serious, but a condition that hits me at performances, concerts, meetings, or movies. And, flamenco performances.

Whenever I’m at one of these events, one of two things can happen.

(Sometimes both.)

1. I fall asleep. Doesn’t matter the time or how much sleep I had the night before. I doze off. 💤 Headbob express. Yawn Central. 🥱

2. I get inappropriately emotional. Now, I understand crying during the part of the play where someone dies. Or gets married. But I’ll go deep into my tear tunnel when there’s no reason to cry. Weird times for tears, brought on by my mind wandering and thinking of random, emotional moments from my life. 🥹

For these reasons, I try to avoid performances, meetings, and gatherings whenever possible.

As it turns out, there’s a name for part one of my condition: Theatrical Narcolepsy, and I’ve given the other part a name as well - Theatrical Sappiness.

From the Urban Dictionary, source of all knowledge.

And, even though flamenco shows are not exactly quiet, right on cue, I got sleepy just minutes into the performance. After pinching myself and grabbing a piece of gum from my purse, I perked up a bit. Just in time to reflect on the music, which reminded me of family dinners at my family’s (now sold) cottage, where we had a boombox and one cassette tape with dinner music, which, of course, was… (wait for it)flamenco music. Oopfh.

I was basically a mess, alternating between nodding off and trying to fend off the tears welling up in my eyes, with no place to go.

To combat my condition, I watched the program as if I were a judge on Dancing with the Stars. I tried to focus on the objective things rather than getting wrapped up in the music. And if I’m being honest, at first the performers looked like they were “dialing it in.” I didn’t feel their passion; I felt like they were going through the motions at the 5:00 show. I studied their faces closely to see if I could tap into how they were truly feeling. My assessment? They looked bored.

But then something happened.

The flamenco dancer and guitarist exchanged a look. I saw them break character for just a second, a smile. And after the dancer did this, her entire demeanor shifted, and suddenly, she was no longer in the room with us… she was someplace else.

And I swear the music got louder.

It stopped being a performance and became an experience.

The performers stopped being paid workers and were now practicing their art; the music and dance became one.

I was no longer tired or sad.

I was moved.

After the performance, I learned from my guide, Danielle, that what I witnessed was called duende —the mysterious, magical force describing artists in the zone:

Duende: Something that is expressed from the depth of the artist’s soul that invokes an emotional response from the audience, conveying a sense of shared humanity.

I still can’t describe what I felt while watching the performers after they slipped into this magical zone… but it made me think about my work as a writer.

Sometimes I sit down to write, and I spend hours typing words. I get the job done and meet my deadlines. 👩🏻‍💻

But other times, when I’m writing, I go someplace else. Hours pass, words flow, and I lose myself in the process. My own version of duende.📝

The good news is, I experience duende more often than not. And I think that happens when one has found a career, a calling, if you will, that resonates on a soul level.

Which leads to my career and life revelation: staying in a job or life situation that feels uncomfortable, unnatural, or just plain “not good” does not spark duende.

The flamenco performance made me realize that this magic exists in all of us. But if we stay where we don’t belong (and only we know when and if this is true), we can’t achieve this magical feeling of duende.

And with that, I’ll leave you to reflect on this magical force called duende.

XO,

Abbey

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Below are links, podcasts, & ideas that caught my attention this past week…