Dancers are warriors, she says. "If you decide to be a dancer then you are probably going to be in pain and your body is going to hurt, because if you don't push yourself and you are not a warrior, you won't get far."

Dance mums take heart - your special little children won't suffer long. Most dancers are done by their 30s, Michaels says. "Someone once said dance is like the worst choice of a life career. You do it because you love it, because you are passionate about it. It's a beautiful art form, but if I had kids would I push them into dance? Probably not."

It sounds bloody awful, I say. "It's not an easy career," she says.

Michaels' own career boasts multiple Emmy Awards, a turn as a judge on American reality television show So You Think You Can Dance and choreography on Broadway and in music videos and films. She has created works for Madonna, Ricky Martin, Celine Dion and Prince. She taught Tom Cruise to groove. "He was the optimal kick-arser," she says.

She's in Sydney to host a workshop for dancers aged 8 to 70-something, at Sydney Olympic Park, on Sunday. She's 50, with gleaming eyes and teeth, a big laugh and a tear in her pants from a recent high kick.

"I don't dance anymore, I move," she says, citing injuries to her back and knees. "My body just locks up because I think it remembers so much pain."

Michaels started dancing at the age of three, displaying such force that her nickname was "Bamm-Bamm", from The Flinstones. At about age 15, realising she couldn't sustain a career as a dancer, she switched to choreography.

"I was a wild kid and dance saved my life, I probably would have been in jail or dead [otherwise]," she says. "Dance kept me anchored to something. I will always have a love affair with dance, no matter how painful it can be."

She often sees parents pushing their children to be dancers or performers. "These mums are living their dreams through their daughters," she says. "If I had kids, I would definitely expose them to dance and if they fell in love with it I would say 'follow your heart'. But if they wanted to go to college for dance I would say no...I would have them go to school to fall back on something else."

I ask what it takes to be a dancer and she says: technique, athleticism, artistry, individuality, uniqueness, vulnerability, an open heart and "training your body to do things that it is not naturally supposed to do".

Can anyone be a dancer? "Dance is inside everybody," she says. Can I be a dancer? "Yes, absolutely."

She's inspired by non-dancers, "the more awkward the better", which is comforting to hear.

I ask her to teach me some wicked moves and so she starts with "the bird", a kinda kooky flappy-hand thing with several simple steps. She instructs me to put my right leg forward, put my right leg back, shimmy my arms together and then do it all again.

The moves come from Michaels' choreography for the musical Finding Neverland, on Broadway. My effort is closer to 'Doing the Pigeon, on Sesame Street.

At some point, she is sufficiently inspired to start speaking in tongues. "Yadda Yadda boom!" she says.

We finish with some energetic arm raising. I flap my limbs so hard that I threaten to take off.

"Whoa! Alright! Do you feel it?" she hollers. I feel something, I say.