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?
Showing posts with label vision. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vision. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Saturday, March 29, 2014
What just has to go?
Today was a big day. And, an unexpected day.
I love to garden. I like the sensation of having my hands in the dirt. I enjoy pruning and replanting. Today my "gardening" consisted of an unexpectedly satisfying task - sycamore leaf removal.
I live under a huge sycamore tree. Thriving in the wilderness of Brandeis, this tree is formidable, despite the continual pruning we do and the occasional branch break due to high winds and rain. It is glorious and makes excellent shade come summer time, but it drops massive amounts of leaves. Huge leaves. Everywhere. All year long. The endless summer of southern California means endless leaf fall. And, being the less-than-diligent yard worker that I am (I said I loved gardening, not that I did it often), these leaves get wind swept into every crevice and corner of the garden around my house.
The leaves don't just sit on the ground, they manage to embed themselves in the other plants in such a way that you can only remove them by hand.
So, while having my morning cup of tea. I for some reason decided today was the day. I swigged the last of my tea and got to work. Sweeping up leaves, pulling them out of the crevices, unloosing them from the grip of the jasmine vines. Leaves leaves leaves.
And, what I noticed was that my garden is quite nice. There are some sweet plants that are very charming, even a few volunteers that were blossoming in the spring weather. I discovered that I had a nice garden all along, I just needed to unmask it. The leaves were suffocating the beauty that always existed underneath.
The metaphor slapped by in the face. The idea that we have all that we need right here in front of us, and yet we can't always see it because it is being muddled up with the excess surrounding it. I am in a place where I don't need to plant more, I need to care for what I have, nurture what is already growing and give it the time, attention and space it needs to blossom.
As I raked the ground and pulled out the lodged leaves, I found beauty all around me.
There was such satisfaction in this process that my one hour stint turned into three glorious hours of unveiling the potential around me. And, with each sycamore leaf the reality of this process became more and more profound as a metaphor in all aspects of my life.
This was confirmed later in a discussion I was having with two students about their choreography. I asked them what have you put in your piece that is diluting the power and beauty in your choreographic vision? What movements are just sycamore leaves clogging up the garden and disrupting the beauty that is already there?
I knew it before, but now I feel the gravity of this idea in my core. I now want to go back and ask the same question of each and every one of my previous dance pieces. But, the most profound effect might be in my everyday life.
How am I cluttering up my vision?
What is diluting my essence?
What is added on in such a way that it is covering up the beauty/core/root of what I want?
How are things suffocating me and keeping me from being my clearest self?
What just has to go?
Simple and clear. Keeping what is vital and growing. Discarding the excess, the weight of last season's commitments. I am at a place right now where I am redefining what is enough and how I know I have enough/am enough. In the case of my garden, I had life at my finger tips, but I just couldn't appreciate it with it being visually swallowed up by dry, dead leaves. I am ready to take the time I need to give to the things that are already growing in my life. The things that are beautiful but can be easily forgotten when piled high with the excess surrounding me.
It may not be an easy process. It might be as tedious as picking the leaves up by hand. But, I can see now that this is the next step for me. Clearing out.
Revealing lush beauty all around me.
I love to garden. I like the sensation of having my hands in the dirt. I enjoy pruning and replanting. Today my "gardening" consisted of an unexpectedly satisfying task - sycamore leaf removal.
I live under a huge sycamore tree. Thriving in the wilderness of Brandeis, this tree is formidable, despite the continual pruning we do and the occasional branch break due to high winds and rain. It is glorious and makes excellent shade come summer time, but it drops massive amounts of leaves. Huge leaves. Everywhere. All year long. The endless summer of southern California means endless leaf fall. And, being the less-than-diligent yard worker that I am (I said I loved gardening, not that I did it often), these leaves get wind swept into every crevice and corner of the garden around my house.
The leaves don't just sit on the ground, they manage to embed themselves in the other plants in such a way that you can only remove them by hand.
So, while having my morning cup of tea. I for some reason decided today was the day. I swigged the last of my tea and got to work. Sweeping up leaves, pulling them out of the crevices, unloosing them from the grip of the jasmine vines. Leaves leaves leaves.
And, what I noticed was that my garden is quite nice. There are some sweet plants that are very charming, even a few volunteers that were blossoming in the spring weather. I discovered that I had a nice garden all along, I just needed to unmask it. The leaves were suffocating the beauty that always existed underneath.
The metaphor slapped by in the face. The idea that we have all that we need right here in front of us, and yet we can't always see it because it is being muddled up with the excess surrounding it. I am in a place where I don't need to plant more, I need to care for what I have, nurture what is already growing and give it the time, attention and space it needs to blossom.
As I raked the ground and pulled out the lodged leaves, I found beauty all around me.
There was such satisfaction in this process that my one hour stint turned into three glorious hours of unveiling the potential around me. And, with each sycamore leaf the reality of this process became more and more profound as a metaphor in all aspects of my life.
This was confirmed later in a discussion I was having with two students about their choreography. I asked them what have you put in your piece that is diluting the power and beauty in your choreographic vision? What movements are just sycamore leaves clogging up the garden and disrupting the beauty that is already there?
I knew it before, but now I feel the gravity of this idea in my core. I now want to go back and ask the same question of each and every one of my previous dance pieces. But, the most profound effect might be in my everyday life.
How am I cluttering up my vision?
What is diluting my essence?
What is added on in such a way that it is covering up the beauty/core/root of what I want?
How are things suffocating me and keeping me from being my clearest self?
What just has to go?
Simple and clear. Keeping what is vital and growing. Discarding the excess, the weight of last season's commitments. I am at a place right now where I am redefining what is enough and how I know I have enough/am enough. In the case of my garden, I had life at my finger tips, but I just couldn't appreciate it with it being visually swallowed up by dry, dead leaves. I am ready to take the time I need to give to the things that are already growing in my life. The things that are beautiful but can be easily forgotten when piled high with the excess surrounding me.
It may not be an easy process. It might be as tedious as picking the leaves up by hand. But, I can see now that this is the next step for me. Clearing out.
Revealing lush beauty all around me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)