Being together again: Post COVID reflections on teaching the performing arts in college

In the performing arts, ensemble matters. A great classroom report makes a performing arts course feel fresh, engaging, meaningful. The class as a whole thrives on the communal energy. The teacher holds the space, offers the invitation for growth, protects the learning environment, and supports those in need to make the experience as equitable and inclusive as possible. Ensembles are never perfect, but they are effective when everyone contributes what they can.

Ensemble learning is much like kindergarten. Individuals learn how to be together in a messy art making process where everyone is trying to figure things out as they go. Ensemble members learn to respect each other, navigate personal disappointments, celebrate others' wins, and balance social and emotional learning through individual and group dynamics. A dance class (or any other performing arts class) isn’t just about the content or even the art; it is about the growth that happens by being a part of something larger than yourself. You depend on others, and they depend on you. Together you can do great things and might even have fun in the process.

Coming back to campus from COVID, I am finding students have forgotten the role of community in their personal learning and in their lives. Add in trying to coordinate a final performance, and you get added madness. Online, it was about individual successes, independent learning, and personal agency. Online the pedagogical mantra is “alternatives for all!” In person, performing arts learning resides in social, interpersonal, and community centered activities focused on cohesion as well as personal responsibility. 

I know well the common pattern in which students want to catch up and save their grades in a last-minute rally. This is the norm for many lecture classes. I regularly see students begging to make up work from weeks 12-15 that they missed (having either forgotten they were enrolled, or convinced those weeks weren’t essential, and/or frozen in shame that they fell behind at all). I frequently see students deciding that a C is going to be ok with them when they are capable of more. In a lecture course the consequences of poor student choices mostly fall back on the student as an individual. I mean, does group work exist online anymore? Has anyone successfully conducted group work online? Even in person, it requires an act of divine intervention for group work to come together. I digress. . .

The point is that students will always have a hard time navigating hard deadlines and course requirements, but ultimately in a lecture course, each student is free to earn their grade as they see fit. They are free to excel, and they are free to fail. This was and early lesson I had to learn when I first entered community college teaching. Witnessing individual students failing is hard enough to emotionally navigate as a teacher when the aim is to support everyone in just the right way that they all succeed.

I have learned to survive the grief of individual students earning failing grades. It isn't my preference, but I get it. It happens, I can sleep at night knowing I did my best to support them. But, coming out of COVIID we have a whole new issue to deal with as students have forgotten life requires them to act with social awareness. Students have forgotten how ensembles work! 

The reality is that the community relationships aspect in an online class is near zero. COVID confirmed this reality. Community is not altogether absent, but not often at the forefront of the learning experience especially in asynchronous interactions. I was surprised how many of my online students have anxiety surrounding posting to a class discussion board for fear of being wrong or otherwise embarrassing themselves. Clearly online forums don't feel that safe right now. This social anxiety is compounded in person; I am witnessing the lack of community connection now whether we are digital or not. 

The biggest challenge is when we as artists are working toward a celebratory final performance and things go sour, yet, the show must go on. A good show in which everything goes smoothly, everyone shows up, is happy with their performance, and feels supremely bolstered by the community is rare (has it ever really happened in a perfect way?). Even pre-COVID show, there are often hurt feelings, frustrations, fatigue, sensitivity, insecurity, and a ticking time bomb of inner yuck ready to explode onto everyone and everything when preparing for performances.

Then the show happens and somehow (usually) it all gets better. People are smiling, relieved, grateful, satisfied, looking to sign up again! haha! Performance was the carrot that brought people together, but performance isn't as special now. Students "perform" all the time on social media. And they do that on their own time, for themselves, in their own way. The digital spaces are compelling and appeal to the ease of not having to coordinate with other people in ensemble environments.

And, I am feeling the push and pull between the worlds. Are ensembles still relevant and valued at this point? How can students relearn to appreciate the value of ensemble learning and ensemble performance? Are we here for ourselves? or for the group? Or, are we here for ourselves through the group? Missing an online class doesn’t feel like a big deal. Missing an in-person class is a big difference. People have forgotten that their consistent presence in the room matters. The nature of the performing arts ensemble training depends on our ability to work together and to show up when it matters (which is all the time). But, showing up is hard, and it takes practice. 

I entered this profession during a time when form was well established and militantly enforced. In general, students knew how to be in a dance class. Those who were new to dance witnessed and learned from those who had experience. I would need to refresh and maintain the boundaries, but I never had to be the one to establish them as I have had to this past year. The hardest part for me to navigate recently is the students' excessive absences. When students are absent the form is broken; there is no opportunity for practice and learning grinds to a halt. Those who remain (who were able to drag themselves from bed that day) are taught then that being absent is ok. This nonchalant approach interrupts the group learning process and breaks trust within an ensemble.

Right now, I don’t trust that students will show up (where is the incentive when ensembles are hard to navigate), and I don’t trust that I am capable of navigating this wild west approach to come-and-go-as-you-please learning environments. I recently listened to a great Hidden Brain podcast about the emotional currency. The reality is that currency is a marker of transactional value, but it is also an indicator of trust and relationship. When we agree to exchange goods, money, time, attention, or services, we are establishing patterns for longer term trust and reliability. Showing up to dance class is the currency of ensemble learning. When you show up, trust is built. When you stick it out in hard times, you earn reliability points. Our social fabric depends on these “transactions” even if there is not money involved. And, we are relational beings so these exchanges matter.

So, where to go from here? How do we rebuild a culture of showing up for each other? How do we establish commitment when COVID conditions and digital culture is training it out of us at each turn?

This is the next step, I haven’t sorted out. I’m not sure if there is a good “solution.” I’m not sure if I am the one to create structure in this phase, when structure building isn’t in my nature. I’ve been more of a structure breaker. This is new world for me to navigate and I need to start to redefine how to function in this profession.

The Share or not to Share?

My relationship with writing and dancing, performing and sharing, even teaching has shifted dramatically over the past few years. With the new world of content creators, social media influences, and virtual masterminds, it seems everyone has something to say and is in desperate need of getting it out there! And maybe they are. But, why?

It felt different writing a blog in the age in which algorithms didn't yet rule our lives. It was small scale, small potatoes and not something many people were drawn to doing. Now, microblogging through twitter or visual blogging through Instagram, or any of the other formats is so fast and easy and accessible that it is the norm. Everyone consumes and most contribute. There is so much content being created on a daily basis that I can't actually conceptualize the magnitude. And, now my little project is just another water molecule in a sea that has no limit and keeps growing and growing. 

This blog is completely self-absorbed. What I have to say or share is not something I take time to research or curate. I don't to market research, and I don't want to. I don't want money, and I'm not looking for popularity or even acclaim necessarily. Mostly I just need to sort through things for myself and feel that at the very least I have said my piece as proof that I have not (yet) been swallowed up by the world. 

Here is the current state of affairs:

The tsunami of information that comes my way as a part of my daily work is too much to process. It hurts me.

I have been teaching dance for 28 years. I am 42 years old. 

I am a passionate dance maker and performer. 

I see the world and question everything. 

I'm sensitive and hurt when I see other hurting.

I often wonder if we are missing the mark on this life. 

I am creative and use expression as a means for making sense of the world.

I hope my work brings a sense of joy and awe into the world. Or, at least into me.

Sharing is a big part of my feeling connected and significant as an individual. (I recognize that this could be a faulty and problematic belief. . .)

I acknowledge by shortcomings and foibles. In fact, I dwell in them frequently. 

What I am wondering now is who cares? Or rather why is it that I care that my work (whether writing or dance) does not exist in the vacuum of my own mind or my own computer hard drive? How can I uncouple my creative needs from hitting the publish button on this blog? Should I? Or is this part of the fabric of my humanity? My human weakness and strength may reside in my need to make sense of the world for myself through the arts. . . 

AND its seems that the only way I am able to motivate myself to sort out the madness in me is through an intentional making for sharing process. 

The making for sharing. The making in service to self and other. 

I know many others feel uncertain about sharing their inner voice and may identify with my worry that their voice will get lost in the tidal wave of new posts of the day only to be floated down the stream of the forgotten moments by the next wave of cute animal photos and pop culture memes. Some posts will hit it big (largely due to probability) and the maker may be forever changed. Others will ride the viral train for a while and then go back to normal life as the info stream closes up the gap behind them.

We enjoy fascinating narratives of success, but of course, the success narrative is something we construct in hindsight as we grapple to make sense of the world. But, all of this is beside the point to some degree. The real question remains, what needs to be said? by whom? for whom? 

I might just be saying this for myself. But, working through even this small piece is essential. There is likely little to no change that will happen "out there" as a result of this post. But, I am in need of the change inside. 

The inside change is the whole point. If this is what it takes, let it be. 

And, yes, this blog feels safer to me that other platforms. It is still public. It is still accessible. Searchable. Making its digital thumbprint in the mega computers in the sky. But, it is its own digital location separate from the stream. It is long format. Chances are only a handful of people are reading this far. (I'm not sure I would have either if I hadn't written it!) 

But, that is ok. If just one person finds it helpful, super! All is well. At the very least, I can know I didn't just jump back into the fray of scrolling through a forgettable stream of brain candy. And, I sorted something out for the moment. To be resorted again and again as time passes, as the world changes, as life unfolds. 

In awe.

Beth

 

Issues? Start Sitting.

(Has this become an annual blog? Perhaps?)

I haven't been writing because. . .  hello!?! This world is madness and everyone has something to say about everything, and I am regularly caught in an in-between stance of non-dualism in which I feel like I agree with everyone and no one at the same time. 

I am one with everyone and other from everyone all at once. It makes writing difficult. My stance is a non-stance. If you can go there with me, then what I have here is for you.

I have started writing my dance reviews again now that theaters are starting to open up and dance is being performed again. And, I am pleased to be of service through my writing, that brings me some joy and purpose. And, then there is the rest of life. So many awesome things to complain about. I could name 10 without blinking and eye, and I'm sure you could, too. And yet, the world continues to send out memes of "gratitude" and "make the most of it." It doesn't sit right with me. 

Truthfully, I don't want to make the most of it. And, not because I balk at hard work, but because I'm afraid that all of this doing, making, and fixing is not going to help, precisely because life isn't something to be done, made, or fixed. 

I spent the last year plus riddled with distress trying to make up for things being awkward, strange, unsatisfying, uncertain regarding the pandemic. I made up a lot of things. I did a lot of things. Some of them were really good. And, I am grateful for some of them. But, all things come to an end. Each wave passes. And, there will always be the next adventure of busy-ness amid an existential crisis. 

So, I finally realized I need to NOT do–I could even say I need to undo even.

Sitting is what I do in order to not do. Zazen is the official term of Japanese Buddhist seated meditation. And, I don't want to say it helps. It isn't about helping, or fixing, or making better. It is more about allowing and not interfering. Does it alleviate distress? Sometimes. But, not always. What is does do is keep me from generating more distress. It protects me from taking on yet another thing. It forces me to slow down and break from the illusion that doing more will make things better. 

Of course, in the zen sense, doing also does make things better. It's both, and better is always relative (maybe better). 

I imagine sitting as finding par in life. You aren't doing, but you are also not not doing. For some of us who do to much, it is a great thing because it stops us from overdoing. And, for those for whom sloth is the problem, it can get people doing something. So, yes, and. 

It's the grasping that is the problem, grasping at good feelings, grasping at the end of the semester, grasping at newness, grasping at certainty, grasping, grasping, grasping. It's actually from the noble truths in Buddhism. Life is suffering, and suffering is caused by grasping at things. (My own words there). 

So, if we are going to be in this human form and live this human life then, we get to/have to find par, a place where we are not doing and are not not doing. And in some case, there may need to be some undoing. haha. 

I'm now in a state of melancholy, nearing the end of another semester teaching, when I see the wrinkles on my face deepening, and my joints getting thicker and grittier; my students are still being imperfect students; I am still being an imperfect teacher. I'm seeing that the grasping of what could have been causes suffering and the hope for things being better in the future causes just about as much. Of course nihilism is the worst of all options. So, there is that. Best to just sit. 

I'm not trying to be depressing, although there is some grief that comes along with the realization that I'm giving up on being a savior unto life. I'm finding that grief is just the undoing of old makings. And, perhaps inside the grief there is at least the resonance of the moment. Grief is a great example of something that does not need extra doing to be done. It just is as it is. The least interference possible the better. 

So, sit and grieve if needed. Grieve until all the grief has been grieved and all the past and future machinations dissolve away. Grieve and then get on. Because there will still be life to be lived, not made, or done or fixed, but lived. 

Be well this holiday season,

Beth

To the bridge builders out there. . .

I'm back. 

I mean, I'm going to try it. I have numerous concerns about blogging again. In this world of pointing fingers and divisive speech, I'm afraid to speak. My fear to share exists because what I want most in the world is to cultivate harmony and unity, love and compassion for ourselves, each other, and the world. I get a lump in my throat just thinking about it. I've kept quiet, in my attempt to keep from further irritating the chafed sensibilities of this world.

But, while stuck inside during these pandemic months, the itch to write again is winning out. It seems this is the only way I know how to process by thoughts. So, here it goes.

I am hurting. I see a world shrouded in anger and fear these days. Especially here in the US. But, everywhere. Individualism and communalism are shaking fists at each other, and for someone like me, that is very, very uncomfortable. How can we live in a world where everyone thinks the "other half" is crazy and deluded? How does that serve us or foster meaningful existence?

Right now I see rational and loving individuals grasping at making their lives meaningful by demonizing those who disagree with them. I see value signaling at every turn and a good, old-fashioned US vs THEM approach to living this life. As a bridge builder, this is very disconcerting. Sometimes I think it would be easier to be "on a side" and just brush off the opposing view with a flick of the wrist. But, that isn't how I operate. Disagreement isn't the problem as much as disrespect is. We don't play by the same rules for discourse, and it seems we are all too happy to win arguments on a technicality-- as long as we win. 

It is a tragic way to get through life. 

What amazes me most is that most people from both sides say they are willing to engage in civil conversation about these issues with anyone from any background. Yet. . . that isn't happening. Why? 

It is a tangle of shifting standards, self-delusion, and conditional responses. In our attempt to cope with this strange and painful time of social distress, political unrest, and economic crisis, we may be forgetting that integrity in our actions, thoughts and speech is the only salve. And most of all, can we come from a heart-centered presence instead of head-centered tactics? 

I propose that when we encounter a contrary stance to our views, that we take a moment to sit with our reaction and the discomfort of disagreement. Recognize how hard it is to disagree without taking the disagreement personally. It is so hard!! Can we sit with each other's pain and fear? 

And, let's take a step back to the place we can agree.  

• We are human. 
• We have inherent integrity as beings on this planet. 
• We are afraid for ourselves and our loved ones.
• We are doing our best, and we make mistakes.

Can we sit together with these truths? 

I am heartbroken over the state of the US right now. I am heartbroken for the deterioration of the fabric of our communities over fear. I am heartbroken for the loss of healing rituals and safe spaces. I am heartbroken that we are now separated by masks and 6 feet of emptiness when we need comfort and communion to fill our basic need for safety and recognition as humans.

We have woven a web of life conditions that is too complicated to unravel without generating knot after knot in the process.  What are we willing to let go of to untangle this mess? 

Knots of hatred can only be undone through the release of fear and the trust in forgiveness. How can we forgive ourselves and each other? 

For anyone out there who feels caught in the middle. . . who hears it from both sides. . .  and who feels alone. Please know that you are not. There are still bridge builders in the world. There are still people who believe in human resilience and the grace of integrity. I'm not exactly sure what the next steps are, but sharing my voice in this way seemed to be the next step for me. To put something out in the world that embraces our human frailty and reminds us of our shared nature. 

May you feel seen, heard, and honored. 

May you release the fear and anger pent up inside of you. 

May you find ways to honor yourself and others through your vulnerability and resilience. 

May you be peace. 

-Beth

 

The Luxury of Discontent

I'm learning more and more just how often I am searching, yearning, craving, obsessed, tortured by the idea that I am somehow missing out on life. I lead a full and rich life that is, by all standards, pretty fantastic. It's true! But, I don't always feel fantastic. In fact I often feel far less than fantastic. And, there are times, when I feel down right crummy. For no good reason. I even fantasize that it would be easier if I could just have a massive problem in my life to justify my malaise and rev up my engines for action. But, that is a terrible idea because my life is already incredibly full and certainly I don't want life to get crummier. It is already in a state of disharmony that is worth writing a blog about.

So, what is the issue?

The issue is that I have the luxury of comfort which leads me to the unanswerable existential questions. Why am I here? Who am I? What does it all mean? Every Ted talk I have listened to in the past couple months (in my search for relief of my discontent) talk about purpose. But, when we get really existential about it. Purpose is dependent on our having an established perspective on the value of our existence. Existential questions have lurked in the back of my brain/body my whole life. I have routinely found myself frustrated with not getting "it." What "it" is exactly is unclear, but certainly, there should be something to "it." Right? Maybe?

Or, maybe not. My world is brilliant and mundane. It stable and imbalanced. It is hard but rather easy (in that suburban way). It is a mixed bag to say the least. What drags me down the most is the sense that there is something more out there. I have serious FOMO. Not that i fear missing out on what exactly other people are doing, but I fear I am missing out on living life fully. Shouldn't I be more excited about life? It seems everyone else is (ok fine, at least some other people are) jumping out of their beds in the morning celebrating the "good vibes" and "simple pleasures" in a blissed out state of feel good. There is a line in a Buddhist chant called the Loving Kindness Sutta.

 "This is what should be accomplished by the one who is wise, who seeks the good and has obtained peace. Let one be  strenuous upright and sincere, Without pride, easily contented and joyous. . ."

Easily contented and joyous? My goodness! Such a tall order for this life! I have been feeling anything but content these past few months. And, the worst part about it is that nothing is wrong! Except, life. This is what we are here to do. This experience of discontent is "it" as much as anything else. This is the richness of life. But, not in a special "blissed out" way; rather in the way life as a human is messy. Life is morning that turns into afternoon that turns into evening that turns into night. It is both remarkable and entirely unremarkable. 

My current lesson is that this can't be fixed. There is no "it" to fix. No fixing will change things because, this is as life is. This is what we are here to do.  I can choose to surrender to the need to fix and find solutions. What would I do with my time if I weren't constantly trying to feel better all the time!? I can allow things to be what they are (which again is pretty darn good in my case). Will I ever have a sense of great optimism again? Maybe. I don't know, but, chasing after it is not going to bring me any closer to it. I will just be running away from myself again and again. 

So, I'll just be over here. Allowing "it" to be what "it" is. Letting go of the hope of something more special and embracing the mishmash that is life right now. It's ok.  "It" is just fine as it is. 

But, I don't GET angry!

At least, I don't get angry very often. . . I much prefer the joy of agreeability and harmony. In general I am pretty laid back. Generally. Which is why it is always a surprise when I find myself in a state of fury! How did this happen? It is like a little monster that sneaks up behind me and then pounces unexpectedly. It bites its razor sharp teeth into the neck of my joy and sucks out every last drop of my remaining life force.

Well, that is an approximation. But, you get the idea. For those of us who don't like to get mad. Anger is a scary and dangerous beast!

The truth is I get angry. Things make me mad. But, I learned that you don't act it out. Quite rightly! But, just because we don't act on it doesn't mean it is not there. An interesting book called the Language of Feelings by Cal Banyan notes that there is always a message inside anger. Anger is like a little voice inside declaring there has been an injustice of some kind, real or perceived. And, here is the thing, we must be able to recognize injustices in order to best rectify them or make reparations. What we don't need is to then turn into a victim of the moment and lash out like a cornered animal. Feeling angry is part of being a healthy and discerning human being. 

But, the second point of interest is the notion of anger signaling an injustice whether real or perceived. Our nervous system sadly doesn't know the difference (hence waking from a nightmare in a sweat--It was so real!). Our bodies respond to negative emotions the way they are designed to respond when we feel threatened: fight, flight or freeze. It's not an ideal situation, but it is the nature of our human biology. 

The challenge of being angry at a perceived rather than real injustice is that we can't always address and resolve it like we might an external issue that is fixable. The perception is by nature internal.  So, we are challenged to face the reality of ourselves and the often completely "unfair" nature of human existence. "Unfair" because we all suffer from something as humans which thus makes the universal nature of problems more or less "fair." But, of course, the severity and nature of our affliction or situation inevitably feels "unfair" because of its unique manifestation. Our ego shouts out "I shouldn't have to deal with this!"

The question is, what are we to do when we feel life isn't fair, but in fact, it is just part of the reality that "Shit (sometimes) Happens?" In order to walk a middle path between lashing out and stuffing our anger response in a closet-- I think we have to start with an honest account of what makes us angry -- even when we "know" it isn't personal, or unique to us, or even alterable for that matter. Detailing the issue(s) at hand can be extraordinarily helpful.

Here is my current list of things that make me mad (but which are not necessarily real injustices):

I am angry that I am tired.
I am angry that students don't know how to take notes or study or practice effectively.
I am angry that my two year old is quitting his afternoon nap.
I am angry that I suffer from unpredictable and sometimes uncontrollable depression.
I am angry that there will be dirty dishes everyday.
I am angry that the value of the arts and humanities in education is downplayed because their study doesn't make money.
I am angry that my computer runs slow.
I am angry that I can't do everything I want to do because there simply isn't enough time.
I am angry that my jaw and eyes are tired and painful because I hold my unspoken stress there.
I am angry because life doesn't always provide clear answers to my questions.

Now, some of these things are more ridiculous than others. On the other hand, some might actually have validity and could be at least indirectly addressed. But, the point is, that for someone who doesn't like to feel angry, I still suffer occasional and situational anger.  This is ok. This has to be ok. Otherwise, I would sink into nihilism and be a potential hazard to myself and everyone around me.

This is where grace enters. In the form of hope, and faith, and love. We will experience rage, anger, and frustration at ourselves and the world. This anger can be so embarrassing for some of us that we would rather stifle it than risk revealing it. We fear we might lose hold of the tether and lose it all together. We stifle it and it shows up in other ways, in our bodies mostly, chronic hip pain, chronic headaches, addictions, depression and more. This is the work of David Schechter and his predecessor John Sarno who identify that roughly 90% of all chronic pain is psycho-somatic. Now, psycho-somatic does not mean that the pain is not real. Psycho-somatic pain is real pain, but it is triggered through our nervous system feedback rather than a physical injury.

Anger processing is one of the best inroads for "curing" chronic pain according to their work. And, I am apt to agree with them. Seeing our anger for what it is a much needed first step in healing ourselves and making ourselves whole.

What then is the antidote to our anger? For many of us it has to start with self-love and self-acceptance. We have to trust that we are not our anger and that we have worth even when we feel rage. When you are down in the dumps, it is hard to have faith in the tenant of inner goodness.  Our Buddha nature seems far away in these dark times. But we can commune with others we can trust when we can't trust ourselves. We go to them for a meaningful reminder of hope and love. And when we can't find any person, we go to our animal friends or the tree in your garden or the fountain at the park. We commune with a life energy, until we can remember for ourselves that we have inherent worth and dignity. That we are worth a little forgiveness and a lot of love. That we can play a meaningful role in the world for ourselves and for others.

Hope is a precious thing. It is the pilot light that keeps us going in our darkest hour. 

May you find peace today.

May you feel loved and valued.

May you have hope and may you shine your light for the world.

__/\__

Prioritizing Life

If you are like me, you find yourself saying that there is too much to do in too little time.  You get caught feeling overwhelmed and at times defeated by the amount of tasks on your to do list and scheduled appointments on your calendar.

It's a problem. 

I certainly have been struggling recently. And, it is nothing new; it is the same old refrain. The same old trap of. . . but then I got to thinking. . . trap of what? What is the problem?

I'm still thinking through this, but so far I have come up with a few ideas on what the real problem is. Because there will always be things to do. There will always be 24 hours in the day. There will always be urgent tasks and tight timelines, surprises that derail you and moments of accomplishment that make you think such a busy life is a good idea. . . or, at the very least, manageable.  And, BOOM I find myself getting caught in the same cycle.

So, what is the real problem? 

I have come to understand that prioritizing is key. All you have to do is figure out what is most important and do that! Haha! Easier said than done. There is no single recipe for a great life. Each individual must decide what is the most important. And, not just once, but repeatedly. Year after year, day after day, moment to moment.

My trap is the trap of mistaken thinking that I can sort it all out once and then be done. But, life isn't about figuring out one answer. It is the process of negotiating all of life's challenges, embracing the challenge (and even the suffering) as it arises. It is a constant exploration of valuing and re-valuing our ideas, our beliefs, our commitments, our habits, our everything!

So, rather than prioritizing something in your life. Perhaps the freedom is found in prioritizing the process of re-prioritizing. Perhaps the most noble thing we can do is to take time to "figure things out." Prayer, meditation, long walks, a movement class, they are all examples of opportunities to step out of the stream and listen deeply into our experience. Prioritizing life is prioritizing the experience of sorting through things intellectually, emotionally, physically, spiritually. This takes time.

The most important thing we can do, and the thing we must put before all else is the time and space to reassess, reflect, ruminate, seek guidance, listen for clarity. 

Prioritizing this process however can be difficult. The best long term is to routinize this process with regular, weekly experiences, practices or rituals. This allows space for us to continually and consistently revisit our priorities and values. But, in times of crisis, we give up our recuperative practices as luxuries. How do we communicate to ourselves (and to others) that we are prioritizing life by selecting recuperative activities?

Well. . . I am still working through that one. . . but for now I will say:

"I am prioritizing life."

A Problem of Sunny California (It's not what you think!)

Life comes in seasons. Just as we acclimate to a new ways of being, a new pattern, a new schedule, a new way of life, the season changes. This is the nature of all that is. This is a great thing, a needed thing, a maddening thing. But, these seasons will come, and they will go. Unless, that is, you live in Southern California.

Don't get me wrong. I love living in this beautiful state with its heavenly fall and spring, it sunny winter days and fantastic summer nights. But, as most people know, rain is a seldom occurrence in this lovely (most often dusty brown) land in which I live.  So, there is no need to slow down and retreat. There is little climatic cause for returning to the warmth of a house or the glow of a fire to wait out a storm or sudden shift in weather. There is no reason to slow down and to allow the seasons to guide us. So, we go, go go!

Why not?! Right?! Right!

Our societal expectations do the same. Slow down? No need! The sun is shining so you go about your business (your busy-ness) at all costs. We begin to equate ourselves with our doing-ness. We calculate our worth according to dollar signs, and we continually wonder what else is out there to be done, checked off the list, completed, accomplished, achieved.

The problem in Southern California is that we can usually expect the weather to be at least reasonably good. A outdoor wedding in November? Sound ideal!

So, when things shift, the whole world is thrown into chaotic flux. It might rain!?!

But, the truth is, I'm not really talking about the Cali weather at all. I'm talking about the So Cal experience of life. The shock that occurs when we just aren't up to what we set out to do. How do we exit the fast paced flow of the life we have created for ourselves?

I'm not exactly sure. I just know that in the world of go, do, be, we must make space for the unexpected storm. 

Let's put it into perspective. What are we here to do? Are we here to deny our fragile nature at every turn? To push away the hurts and/or needs that exist within our ancient genetic codes? For the sake of always being sunny? Simply because we can?

Here is another twist. Our seasons come and go according to our inner worlds, and yet we exists in external structures that require us to be present, active and engaged for a given number of hours on given days (Hello! 40 hour work week!). For the tortoise running in the race, this steady pace is fantastic. Always fulfilling the regular, defined, expected commitment. No more, no less. But what about those of us that have natural highs a lows. Heck, women who have their monthly cycle! All humans have an inner rhythm; we each have our seasons. So, when are we as a society going to own the ebb and flow? What could that look like?

I grew up in Montessori school. I continually realize just how formative that experience was for me. I could work at my own pace (in fits and starts, in bursts, in long burns). As long as I did my work, I then had the freedom to do whatever I wanted.  But, life doesn't work that way. In order to function we must interact with others and as part of that we make contracts. We have to be committed to people; Our survival as individuals requires that we are able to plan and accommodate and contract as needed.  We benefit with we are able to apply and appeal and appease. 

We have to be on teams, and we are better for it in many ways. So, it is not an all or nothing manifesto I am proposing. I'm not sure what the answer is, but I know that sometimes I can be amazing. I can produce with speed, agility, vision, and focus. And other times, I am stumble, feel groggy, overwhelmed and down right irritable. Does it even out? It might, but when you work on a schedule (project to project, performance to performance, semester to semester), it doesn't matter. It can't matter, because the funding ends, the curtain goes up, the grades are due.

So, what can we do?

We do what we can. Watching the seasons change inside of us (even if they aren't changing around us). Exclaiming with a sense of curiosity and wonder, "Oh wow! I could really use a break. How incredibly interesting?" Then we take a breath, drink a cup of tea and get back to it. Sitting with the storm inside of us as it rages, thunders and sputters lighting with disagreeability. 

Then, one day we feel good again. For no reason. It might take a day, it might take a week, it might take a year. The ebb and flow of life will change as it always does. To everything there is a season.

This is just a season. "Oh wow! I could really use a break. How incredibly, incredibly interesting?"

Beth

PS Forgive spelling and grammar mistakes, I just needed ot get this out there. Maybe I will find time to edit it. Maybe later. . . maybe not.

When Wonder Woman gets Shingles

Thanks for reading this seeing as I haven't been posting regularly. It has been tough finding the balance between work, art and parenting. (Well, duh!)

What brought me here today? Well, you know that moment when you feel like everything is going pretty well. Life is full and busy and bustling and yet, things are generally getting done, and you are generally managing. You have a moment in which you feel like superwoman before. . . you get shingles.

Hence, your body steps in to say, "Not so fast buster! I know you like burning the candle at both ends, but, I'm here to chime in and say, it doesn't work that way." As someone still in her thirties, I'm not supposed to get shingles. All the websites say it is usually seen in people over 50.  I still have over a decade to go! And, yet, these little red lesions on my waistline are undoubtedly shingles.  I know, because I have had them before.  Sigh.

I'm just so sensitive.  I guess we all are in some way or another. Whether it hits us sooner or later, whether we hide it or blog about it, we are all just doing our best to get along and figure out life as best we can in the midst of the chaos and without a compass or map in hand.

My prescription should really be: chill the heck out. Stop working, and, instead, spend an afternoon watching movies and sleeping.  Yet, I just finished a two hour stint of work and am whiling away the hour by writing this blog. Good choices can be hard to make sometimes.  But, we keep at it. We keep trying to no try so hard. We keep our focus on not being too focused, and we worry about not worrying so much. 

Now to bed. And, I recommend you try to find your way there too before your system rebels.

Beth

Spirit of Learning (Recent thoughts on Education)

(I wrote this for my students but it certainly applies to all of life.)

Go! Do! Be More! Faster! Harder! Aaaaaaah!

It seems the world is pushing us to hurry up and . . . what?  . . . be successful?
What does that even mean?

I have been reading a very interesting book called The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F---K, by Mark Manson. Despite its punchy title, it is a powerful little book that puts into perspective what it is we are here to do in this lifetime and what really matters. I highly recommend it.

The reason I bring it up is that I have found recently that many students have forgotten what it really means to get an education. News Flash: Education is not merely preparing to have a job.  If you are well educated it is more likely you will get a job, but education does not have the explicit goal of getting you a job. Training will get you a job. Education will give you quality of life. 

The Spirit of Learning is the spirit of real education. And, that is what I am most interested in as a teacher, as a human!.  What is the bigger picture here? So, when you submit an assignment (as crazy making as it can seem) it is not about the length, it is not about the number of sentences, words, characters. Everything you turn in for credit is an opportunity to show me that you are putting in the time to investigate the content of the course and most importantly how it changes you, your views, your appreciation. your world! This is the stuff that will enrich your life and make it meaningful.
Counting points to get that A (or B or C) will only torment you. That is not the spirit of learning.
I promise that if you do your best to communicate the spirit of your learning in each and every assignment the grade will follow. Because you will actually be learning.

Things that require you to work hard are thing worth having. Freebies are transient and disposable.  They may make you happy in the short term, but they will not make you happy in the long term.

Give yourself a chance to enjoy your education.

3 Tips for the Spirit of Learning

Ask yourself:
1. "What is the goal of this assignment?" "Why would my teacher assign it to me?" Answer those question within your submission.

2. "How am I representing myself in my work?" "Do I express that I learned something from the assigned reading?" "Do I honor the process with full sentences and grammar?" Ensure your submission reflects your mature thinking and values.

3. "Is there a way I could actually make this FUN?" That doesn't mean you have to spend MORE time on the assignment, it is about your ability to enjoy the challenge and/or process while you are working. (In fact it might actually take you less time working this way. . . just sayin')

Making the Dance I’ve Not Made Before

As an artist it is easy to explore and re-explore a structure, topic, theme, motif, etc.  And, there is tremendous value to this deepening of the creative experience surrounding a single concept.  When we dive again and again into the waters of a single idea, we see new light, new shade, new nooks and crannies of potential. It is a beautiful practice.  The challenge in the dance world is that our field has been consistently fascinated with that which is new.  Dance makers are often seeking something new and different from their work.  There is a common striving for continual reinvention of aesthetic.  And, yet, it is hard to escape ourselves.

And, we often end up making the same dance over and over. Maybe different costumes or music or lighting, but essentially the same thing over and over. 

Tough.

So, as I reflect on my newest creative endeavor, I am wondering do I try to create something new? Do I deepen something I have explored before?  And, more importantly, how do I know if I am doing what I set out to do?  Either approach is fine, but what I don’t want is to create the same dance again thinking that I am being innovative when I’m not. 

So what do I do? Where do I start?  I know some of my favorite choreographic devices. I know them well.  In fact choreographic structure, use of theme and form are strengths of mine as a choreographer. I like looking at the arc of a piece, the sense of wholeness, and the overall effect of the structure for a narrative or aesthetic purpose.  I notice that I like introducing dancers in the same way. I like grouping them on the stage in certain ways. I like balancing unison with counterpoint.  And, I love front facing and diagonal front facing (mostly for the narrative or human component of the work—after all, comedy doesn’t work quite the same when turned away from the audience).   

Now, what do I do with this information?  I want to make a new dance.  I don’t want to see myself pull out the old tricks again. At least, not this time.  So, I am dedicating myself to avoid these patterns at all costs.  I force myself to do something else. Anything else!

The dance I want to make next has the working title of Dances to Heal the Soul. Each section addressing a different style and aesthetic to serve a goal that touches the spirit, heals the soul, soothes the heart. 

Maybe, I will resort to my old ways. The comfortable habits of creation.  But, maybe I will find something new in the process.  Maybe the dance will root itself in a new value, in a new structure, or in a new aesthetic.  I can only hope. 

In the meantime, as I allow all of this to incubate in my brain, before I get into the studio, I will dream the new dream. 

Musing on being a dancing mama poetess

It’s been an exceptionally long time since I have posted.  I blame it on my being pregnant. That's right, in this time I have had a baby! And that. . .

Changes. . .

Everything.

While pregnant, it was tough to contemplate much else, and I was too superstitious to blog about my being pregnant for fear it might not work out.  Plus, it took all my energy to be pregnant and survive teaching a full load.  But, I made it through and even fulfilled my goal of performing while pregnant. Once at 4 ½ months and again at 6 months.  It was a hoot.

So, what did I learn during this past year, now that I have a 5 week old who is just learning to nap long enough for me to write this post?  I have learned that dance making (art making) can happen under all conditions and the artist never goes to sleep even when the body is transforming on a daily basis.  I danced through the pregnancy which joy and allowed myself to dance differently while experience the changes happening to my physically and emotionally.

In many ways being a pregnant dance maker was a piece of cake.  Now that the bun is out of the oven, I have many more challenges as my schedule revolves around caring for this new life I have created.  So when and how do I makes dances now?  Patiently, sporadically, theoretically while dosing off into a nap. I recently wrote a friend about dance making:

Dance making is a fascinating way of life. And, it is interesting who perseveres and how they persevere in the dance making process.  It seems that those of us who embed our lives and our learning in our art making seem to have a more sustainable time of it. . . Our creative energies have so many outlets and they all feed each other in the end as they all feed us. When we work honestly it flows out of us like a source energy.  That energy and our lives that swirl around it are the research. . . The journey continues in all conditions and we experience the ebb and flow as we ride the wave.   Mine includes the creative practice of raising a newborn.

I was pleased to get back into the studio last week, a trial run for my body and for babysitting! It went as well as I could expect, and tomorrow I head back into the studio again. I’m not sure where the next stage will take me as I am living moment to moment, hour to hour, nap to nap.  But, I do so with hope and joy.  When things get tough, I surrender myself to the challenge, weep as needed and move on.  We can’t plan for perfection, and I believe it is a mistake to expect it.  Dancing and art making will happen.  It is meant to happen as it happens.  And, therefore, I will stay true to my belief and practice of making dance under all conditions. 

Watching, Waiting, Learning: Reflections on end of life.

A new time in my life has arrived. My father in law is ill, at home with hospice. He is the first of the four parents (my two and my husband’s two) to become ill. Pancreatic cancer.

Our humanity is rooted in our ability to die. We are manifestations that have arisen and that will pass away. Being human we know this deep down inside, which is why we have so many skills, preferences, and biological systems to support our staying alive. One of my meditation groups is studying the chakras right now and the first chakra (at the root of the spine) deals specifically with our basic needs to stay alive:  food, water, safety etc.  I also learned recently that we remember the “bad things” much more easily than the good because the memories of bad things or situations (poisonous food, unsafe areas etc.) help keep us alive. For example, if we forgot that a big hungry bear lived in a particular cave, we would be putting ourselves in danger each time we walked past or looked inside. Our memories of the negative are strong and emotionally powerful because they help keep us alive. All of this is to say that we, by our own human nature, know our vulnerability.  We know what will threaten our lives, and we do whatever we can to avoid it. 

So, when the time comes for us to pass, all of our life experience and biological hard wiring is put into action and into question. Of course this is essential for the person who is passing, but it is also something we experience as by-standers.  As we watch someone become weak, become confused, or debilitated by pain, we are confronted with our own fragility and our desire to keep those we love safe and with us. 

My father in law’s confusion is one of the hardest aspects we are experiencing.  The spreading cancer (to the brain) in combination with the strong pain medication is a recipe for disorientation. But, why is disorientation scary, to experience and to watch? Perhaps because our survival depends on our ability to orient ourselves in time and space.  As a healthy independent person, being lost threatens our survival. Being lost or the feeling of being lost triggers all of our fight or flight systems as we try to orient ourselves and find our way back home to safety.  In this way, the sensation of being lost or confused is as scary as actually being lost. And, seeing someone lose this skill is hard to process.  Of course, when we see a baby experience confusion, we have compassion, because we understand that it is our role to take care of the infant or child until they are capable of doing it themselves.  But, to see an adult we love and admire lose this ability after decades of being capable somehow seems a tragedy. 

But, this is the tragedy of life. This is why the Buddhists say life is suffering.  Our being human is the condition on which suffering rests.  And, that is also beautiful. That is the Buddha nature. 

Some people are torn from this life before we can see what is happening. Accidents, sudden heart failure or stroke do not give us the chance to witness and learn from the process of illness. Such a situation has other lessons to be learned. But, we cannot choose our fate nor the fate of those around us.  So, we respond with compassion. Compassion as we would for a baby. Compassion toward our loved ones, and toward ourselves.  Our systems for survival will kick in at every turn. That is their job and they will do what they do. We get to watch, wait, learn. This is our chance to notice our deep desire to survive and then to release that hold so we can be free of the chains of fear and accept what comes, as it comes. 

Tell me you love me!

We all need to feel loved.  It is essential to our health and well being. Not to mention our quality of life!

Feeling loved comes from feeling supported, connected and accepted by others. We exist in this world together. We live together, work together, play together, and dance together. Our sense of self is undoubtedly tied (in some way) to how we relate to others, as individuals and as groups. Others' reactions offer us feedback on who we are and how our actions have influence or not. But, for some of us, external feedback becomes more than just feedback. It becomes the test of whether we are worthy of being loved.

When we base our self worth on others' opinions, we enter the role of victim. We are subject to the highs and lows of that feedback.  We lose our sense of personal power when we give it away to the whims and preferences of others. On the flip side, we can't disregard all opinions of those around us.  That would be completely narcissistic and sociopathic.

It is not an all or nothing situation.  And, that is exactly what makes it so tricky and so emotionally confusing. 

I recently had a friend who posted a sort of "challenge" on Facebook, requesting those who actually care about her and the relationship/friendship to post one word in the comments about how they met.  On first glance it is a fun a playful game.  

But, when we look deeper, we can recognize the challenge as a powerful strategy for getting positive feedback which can momentarily bolster our sense of worth and importance.  Of course, the people who see it will respond!  They will want to pass the test and are now obligated if they want to affirm the relationship.  But, the strategy comes at a severe cost.  Those who don't post (for whatever reason including the fact that might not see it) have now "failed" the friendship. Is it an accurate portrayal of your friends? Or is is just a coincidence as to who was on a phone or computer at that given moment?  The test is imperfect, hugely imperfect. While it might seem benign at first, it can foster unhealthy ways of thinking about ourselves and who we are in relationship to others. What do we actually gain from asking people to post proof of their commitment or love? What happens if people don't post? And, ultimately, how does all of this affect our sense of self worth?

What does this painfully faulty, certainly imperfect, and potentially power sucking experience teach us?


Social media is entertainment (and marketing).  It is not about meaningful connection.  It can include meaningful moments, but that is the exception to the rule. In short, social media is a faulty feedback system.  As a choreographer and event director, I have learned just how easy it is for people to "like" an event or even join an event, but to actually show up at the event is another story. Social media is just plain inaccurate at times.

We know all this deep inside. Yet, we continue to play the game, and the neurons that fire together wire together. The more we engage, the more we think it is a good idea to engage.  But, it is certainly not a good idea to disengage, right? The feedback back system may be faulty, but it can still be useful, right? 

For me the key lies in the questions:
What do I hope to gain out of my time on social media?
With whom am I connecting and for what reasons?
How am I connecting and is it reflective of my real values or sense of self?

If we start to look to social media as our strategy for earning love, we will fall into a deep hole of powerlessness. This includes the moments when we feel "victory" for having 30 likes on a post, or 50 or 200! The moment of joy we feel when we get recognition is the moment we should question because it is in those moments that we have given away our power of self worth to someone else. Inevitably, the next post that only gets 2 likes will feel like a failure. Our self worth plummets again.

How do we protect ourselves from this vicious cycle?  We don't have to close our accounts, but we do have to practice awareness at every turn.  To check the highs as much as we check the lows.  We notice again and again when we are using the tool as a strategy for a deeper need like love, appreciation, connection, or acceptance.

Then we forgive ourselves. And. . . try again. 

When life has become a job. Even the fun stuff.

So, I made a huge revelation today.

I hate advertising, marketing, promoting, recruiting, and selling.  Those of you who know me personally, know that I don't use a word like hate freely. Dislike is about as strong as I go in most situations. So, for me to hate something is pretty big. Actually, its darn right colossal.

I am a creator. I love to generate ideas, make dances, write documents, design newsletter, etc.  What I hate is trying to convince someone that what I have done is worth their time, money or attention.  This commodification of the creative process eats at me; it burns up my life force and makes me really really sad.

Now, I know enough about marketing to reverse the perspective and say things like-- It is just sharing my "gift" with the world. It is letting people know of the great things I have planned or organized.  It is not about me or the event; it is about the person who is looking for something like this and wants to know about this event. . . needs to know about this event.

This things is, I don't know if I believe that.  From where I am sitting, I see throngs of people with overfull lives and no wiggle room for adding anything onto their agenda. They are too busy, too stressed, too strapped and even if they want to participate, their sleep deprivation is telling them otherwise. The supply out weighs the demand. There is more to do than anyone wants to do.

Life has become a job. Even the fun stuff. 

I will not guilt people into doing something.  I will not scare someone into doing something. I will not alienate them or devalue them as individuals if they choose not to do something. I believe in personal choice and personal freedom. I don't like manipulating someone into thinking they need something they don't want.  I can't do it. I won't do it.  Just the thought of it creeps me out!

I can't force anyone to do anything. I wouldn't want to. 

Here is the reality. I get sad when people don't come to my shows or to my events. It makes me sad that others do not see the value I see in the things to which I dedicate my time and energy. It triggers a deep sense of unworthiness in me. In my most downtrodden moments I wonder: Is it because I am just not good enough?  Maybe.  Or maybe I am fantastic-- but just a terrible promoter. 

What I know is that I believe in the things I do. I love doing them. I just don't have it in me to promote; I don't want to market; I don't want to convince; and, I certainly don't want to sell anything.  I have to detach from the outcome. I have to love the work so much that I would do it alone in a room with the lights out. A teacher of mine asked: what does a person do when they have made something no one wants? Like a hostess who has prepared a fabulous desert for a group of guests who just aren't that hungry.

The guests are not to blame because they are not hungry.

The hostess is not to blame for being generous and caring.

But, what happens to all that extra cake?

I don't know. I just don't know.

Each Moment is a Choice

We when engage with life, we usually have a strong reason why we choose what we choose.  I'm not saying that the strong reason is always a good reason nor is it always a healthy reason, but we are propelled to do things all day long by strong reasons. Why did you get out of bed today? Was it out of a love of the quiet morning hours? or perhaps it was the fear of being late to work and losing your job? Was it to care for your children whom you love so much?

Each moment is a choice.

That is the reality. For most of us the choices are small-- or rather seem small.  Do I agree to this project? Should I do my laundry today or tomorrow? We are fortunate that we have this much freedom of choice. Some people in the world face the choice to continue with the status quo or die as a consequence? THAT is a strong reason behind one's choices.

For those of us with depressive tendencies reasons can feel a little murky.  Sometimes I feel I don't know what I want at all. I can't tell what would bring me joy or what would perpetuate my state of discomfort and fogginess. This is one of the ways I experience the apathy of depression.  It is not that I don't care, but I can't tell what I care about. 

We are emotionally fragile beings. I think that we are all thin skinned when it boils down to it.  We are sensitive to our situation, and we can choose to notice that or to shut it down, stifle it, move on.  When we feel what we feel more fully, we can learn that is truly motivating us.  Joy or Fear, Love or Hate, Generosity or Greed. 

Engaging with life means more than going through the motions. Each day, each moment, we have a choice to drop into the full experience of the present. The more frequently we drop in, the more honest we can be with ourselves about our motives. And, if we really want it, then we should enjoy it.  We can love it and ourselves in the process.  We can't be perfect, but we can be more aware. 

Awareness is the choice. 

How do you really feel right now?

What do you really want to do in this moment? Why?

What would it take to make you excited to wake up tomorrow? Why?

Expectations are the worst!

Time and time again I get caught in emotional gridlock due to expectations and assumptions made either by me of others or by others of me.  Expectations are the worst! They are a sure fire way to suck enjoyment out of most situations and ruin otherwise perfectly pleasant interactions and relationships. 

Too bad. 

The biggest problem is that we are human. There is no perfect way to communicate; there are no perfect words. We don't come with directions and neither does any one else in the world.  We stumble along our paths, bumping recklessly into each other hoping we don't bruise each other or ourselves too badly in the process. We can't help our messiness.

There is a verse from the Tao Te Ching that states "The skillful traveler leaves no tracks." What a beautiful image to remind us how we all can aim to be more skillful in our lives!  It is a reminder that it is possible to skillfully navigate our way through the world-- not just toward the environment but toward each other. When we interact with each other we often leave behind a residue that they carry with them and that we carry with us from that point on.  The messier our interactions the thicker and more toxic the residue becomes. If only we could act with such clarity, respect, patience and non-attachment, that we didn't leave behind our nasty residue on each other.

But, unfortunately, it takes practice, and, in the best of cases, we will only ever be one half of a relationship. When we have unvoiced expectations of each other, we are brewing a our toxic soup of emotions. We are setting ourselves up for crisis, and, when we are unclear about what others can expect from us, then we are giving them an opportunity to brew their special blend of resentment, hurt, disappointment, fear, anger, jealousy or embarrassment.

We can't avoid all misunderstandings, but the clearer we communicate our needs to others and the more clearly we establish our boundaries in what they can expect from us, we increase our chances of avoiding total disaster.

And, when the occasional disaster strikes, we do what we can to mediate with compassion so we can move forward and try again.


Read more of the Dancing Poetess here:
I want to write gooder
Did you make your bed today?

I want to write gooder.

I haven't been blogging that much this month, in part because I have been writing so many other documents that I am "computered out" by the time the work day is done. In fact, I have discovered that most of the projects I have on my list of "things to do while on sabbatical" are sedentary, and, of those, the majority involve being on a computer. In other words, I am writing a lot just not blogging.

Here's what I have in the works: two first drafts for articles regarding dance literacy, half-completed legal and procedural documents for CDEA, and, last but not least, my actual sabbatical project on dance notation and literacy lesson plans. I have probably written about 10,000 words this month (a modest guess).

I believe I am a decent writer. I feel I am usually clear in my thoughts and have a generally easy time getting my point across. But, I acknowledge that I am not a strong copy editor. I know that my syntax is rather unvaried and that I often err on the side of sentences being short and to the point rather than complex and scholarly. Being a decent writer brought me this far and has served me well as a student and as a teacher, but these days I am asking more of my writing. I need my writing to be better than mediocre. I need it to be seamless, and I want it to be excellent.

I figure if my first drafts look more like second or even third drafts, I will be able to get more of my ideas out there in the world and be able to write and move on. My current writing practice looks something like this:
1. I get a jaw dropping, amazing idea (or at least an interesting one)
2. I jot it down in a flurry of passionate excitement
3. I leave it alone
- or-
4. I try to find a way to share it, which requires me to edit, edit, edit.
5. I reconsider leaving it alone.

Editing is both difficult and boring! It can be fun to edit someone else's work, but it is terrible to sit down and edit my own. So, rather than force myself into the throes of editing, I decided to take on the much more ridiculous task of becoming a better writer to begin with. Is this crazy?  Perhaps. But, I love learning, and, if I turn the task of improving my prose into a game of learning, I improve my chance at succeeding. Force-feeding myself the drudgery of the editing process is likely to kill my process outright.

Writing is a lot like choreographing. It is a creative practice that requires the creator to invest fully into the process. This requisite vulnerability is what makes editing one's own work so emotionally challenging and so seemingly impossible. It can feel like we are editing ourselves when we edit our writing. It's personal. The more passionately we feel about the topic, the more susceptible we are to a painful editing process.

We all need a safe space to practice. Cue trumpet fanfare. Welcome to blogging!

Those of you who read my blog know that I'm not a perfectionist when it comes to grammar (I have probably made a dozen mistakes so far in this very post! Learning is a process). I care more about the lesson, the content, the issue at hand. But, I have a lot to say, and I don't always have a lot of time to get it out. In this case, the issue is how I can become a better writer. So, I will try my hand now and again with various lessons I learn and maybe they will help you too. We can all use a brush up on our grammar, right?

Today's Lesson:
Taken from "How Not to Write: The Essential Misrules of Grammar" by William Safire.
"When a dependent clause precedes an independent clause put a comma after the dependent clause."

Let's try that again.

When a dependent clause precedes an independent clause, put a comma after the dependent clause.

Now that's better. My goal is to practice using the various subordinators to start my sentences and see if that yields a little more variety in my writing.  Wish me luck!

List of Common Subordinators:
after
although
as
as if
as long as
as soon as
because
even if
if
in case
since
so that
that
though
until
unless
whatever
when
whenever
where
wherever
whether
which
while
who/whom
why

Did you make your bed today?

It's been a while since I have checked in to my musings to report on the goings on in my brain and heart.  Sometimes we just need to be in the world, doing what we do. Doing. Working. Experiencing. Being. This past week was my first uninterrupted week of work since starting my sabbatical.  I actually had time at home to do my work without being called away.  What a luxury and what a challenge! The challenge of course is the magnitude of my projects and the awkwardness of moving between them, prioritizing them and following through with them. 

I have found that it takes me at least 1/2 hour just to get back into a project that has been inert, remember what I have done and figure out what I need to do next.  Then of course comes the actual work of doing that next step in such a way that I am prepared for the following step.  As I write this, it sounds incredibly dry and boring, and I am wondering why any one would ever keep reading this little post.  But, I feel deep down there is a lesson here. . . somewhere.

When we have vision, and we have great goals for change and growth, new information, and new processes, we need tools to follow through with them. It becomes more complicated when you're like me and have three or more huge projects in the works at one time. Switching between them mentally can be a huge effort. 

So, I have shifted my emphasis from what I am working on to what I am finishing.

Finishing, doesn't mean I am completely done, but done enough to let that project sit for a while in a state that I can successfully pick up when it is time.  In other words, as I am working on a project, I am also thinking about the trail of breadcrumbs I am leaving behind that will help be reengage with the work later.  I ask myself, is this document complete enough to consider a draft (whether brainstorm, outline, first or second)? Is this somehow usable for the next step? Or have I just left behind I mountain of chaotic thoughts that might leave me feeling more overwhelmed when I return to it?

Usability is key for me.  I am incredibly talented at starting ideas, doing incredible brainstorming and then leaving it to sit and go nowhere.  Now, as I am working on my sabbatical project I ask at each stage whether this dance score, or this chart, or this lesson plan can be used.  Luckily, I am not a perfectionist so usability is something I can see at a variety of stages. Ultimately I want to create resources for myself so that I don't have to recreate the wheel every time.  

There is something satisfying about generating something that works.  

It's a bit like making your bed in the morning so it is ready for you to get in at night. Do the little bit of extra work that invites you back into the process so you can enter with joy and excitement.  

Which leads me to my final question. . . 

Did I make my bed today? 

How do we know we grow?

It was easy when all we had to do was stand with our backs against the kitchen wall where our mother or father would mark our height and date.  But, what happens after you max out?  In my case, at a hearty 5’11”!

Years blend into each other, and we often find ourselves time and time again in what seems like the same place or the same situation over and over again. How can we know we have changed? Grown? Learned?

Each year I attend the National Dance Educators Organization conference.  I have presented each year for the past 6 or so years—or more. I can’t really remember! But, what I do know is that each year I process through the conference ritual and each year I can see how I have changed and if I have changed over the past 12 months. 

The conference becomes a marker for me, an opportunity to notice what is different in me and in my approach to what I do and to those around me.  This year I find myself with a deep centeredness that I don’t recall in past years.  Often the conference is such a whirlwind. The preparation leaves us wind blown like leaves as we are swept into the official fours days of meetings, sessions, classes and panels.  Each day is packed full of events and there are always more people in attendance than one person could ever try to talk to.  This year over 700!

So, with such a large group in attendance and with countless opportunities for learning and conversing, it is tough to stay connected to oneself and avoid the hustle and bustle all around you.  So many wonderful dance education minds come together to share their stories during these grand conferences, yet we must trust that we will get what we need from this massive event. It will come to us just as we need it. In the package we need and at the time and place in which we are ready to receive it. My goal is to let the conference come to me as it may.  I want to soak in the experience without feeling flustered or overwhelmed as I have in the past. Most importantly I want to be fully present in the experiences and in the conversations. 

Personal growth means we get to revisit something familiar and do it “better.”  We get to be more mindful of our words and our actions, more compassionate for others and more patient with ourselves.  As we experience this we can feel ourselves growing, getting a little taller in spirit.

What annual rituals do you practice and how do you approach them each year?  Do you ever feel stuck in a rut or perhaps tired of running after new experiences?  How do you measure your growth? The holidays of course are right around the corner and they are always a chance for practicing balance. What are your plans for growth and change? How tall do you hope to grow this year?