Who knows? Maybe I was Isadora Duncan in a previous life. Lately I've been feeling like there was something buried inside of me, something down deep and low that needed to wiggle its way out. I've been feeling the need for energetic motion to music — but I didn't want to get barked at by an aerobics instructor. I was thinking more along the lines of something lively, but feminine. So naturally, I thought about belly dancing — scarves and sequins and swirling music and lots of wonderful, womanly movement. So I called Almaaz — a Middle Eastern dancer from Kingston — to see what she could teach me about raks al baladi, the Arabic term for "dance of the people."

Almaaz clarified the terminology right away. "I usually call myself a Middle Eastern dancer, because people hear 'belly dance' and they think hoochie-coochie, stripping. But it's not that at all. It's more of an ethnic, folk or cultural dance. 'Raks al baladi' is most likely where we got the term 'belly dance.' People thought they heard 'belly,' " says Almaaz.

Belly dancing was introduced to the United States at the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago, where Victorian audiences were appalled by the fully clothed women who dared to dance without corsets. That may have been where the dance's reputation was first sullied and became more associated with stripping and go-go.

However, curiosity about world music, folk and ethnic dance — as well as the New Age interest in women's spirituality — has brought about a renewed acceptance of belly dance. In addition, it's a great workout and a lot more fun than lifting weights or doing aerobics.

I had brought a long gauzy skirt and sequined veil my friend brought from Egypt, so I donned that and kicked off my shoes for an impromptu lesson in Middle Eastern dance. I did not, however, have the elaborate belt and bra that Almaaz wears as part of her performance costume. It made quite a difference.

That and the fact that we're built quite differently — I felt like Olive Oyl standing next to Betty Boop. Almaaz is petite but somewhat voluptuous, and her graceful, sensual moves made me look like a dancing celery stalk. But she was very kind and encouraging.

Almaaz downplays the salacious perception of belly dance — "I don't do bachelor parties," she says firmly — and emphasizes the healthful aspects of dance. "It's a full body workout and there's no other way to get it," she says. "It's a great way to keep the energy flowing."

Which is probably what most attracted me to belly dance. Remember the saying "free your mind and your (butt) will follow"? That's what belly dance does. It's especially good for women "of a certain age" because it loosens the mind as well as the body.

For many women, it's depressing to age in a youth-oriented culture. Plus, the older women get, the more reluctant some are to try something new.

But belly dancing eases this stiffness of the spirit. It's hard to be rigid when you're twirling around to George Abdo or Simone Shaheen. Without getting too much into pop psychology, belly dance is a way to get in touch with the inner child.

Or maybe it's the "Inner Isadora."