I have been thinking a lot recently about the nature of dance and its need for stronger community support. And, I am not talking about TV produced Dance reality shows. Obviously.
I am talking about the little fish in the pond, the smaller buggers that put their life and soul into their art and often receive little to no community support outside of their immediate friends and family.
But, I realized that the issue is not that dance needs people, but that people need dance. I need dance. You need dance. Our society needs dance. But, why?
We are forgetting.
We are forgetting how important it is to be in communion with our fellow community members. We are forgetting what it feels like to dance in harmony, to dance in unison, as one body, with one common trust in our own humanity. We are forgetting just how it feels to be present in the moment without competition, without an audience, without an applause meter or a phone line voting system. We are forgetting how it feels to be in the body with others who are in their own skins, breathing, sensing, moving, relating. Dance isn't just about moving to move. It is about our ability to cultivate relationships in motion. To release our own sense of identity in order to partake in a larger body.
I learned just recently about a beautiful Global dance that happened today. Initiated my Martha Eddy, the Global Water Dance is a dance in celebration for all beings, of all cultures, in all locations. This is an example of how dance (and music) transcends all barriers. How dance is a safe and open invitation for all people to simply participate in being human by moving together in harmony.
I am tired of dance as spectacle. I am tired of dance for the privileged. Dance for the stars. Dance for competition. Dance can serve all people in increasing their quality of life, in their quality of being human.
When was the last time you danced? At a wedding? In your living room? In a dance studio? Have you forgotten?
And, this is not to point blame at you. I believe the active dance world is as much to blame. I suspect that the dance world may have encouraged you to forget.
And, what I mean by this is the tendency I see for the "dance world" to make work that is either "light entertainment" or "inaccessible art." What are your impressions of concert dance? When was the last dance show you attended in person? Why did you go? What did you get out of it? Please comment because I actually want to know! I suspect that most people who attend live dance concerts go because they know someone in the performance. They go to show their support. This is admirable and much appreciated, however I would rather people come to be inspired! To rediscover themselves through the experience of watching live dance. To be enriched as individuals making their ways through the world.
I am convinced that there is concert dance in this world that is both artistic and enjoyable. And, I intended to keep making dances until I find that balance. Until the audience remembers that seeing dance can increase their enjoyment of life and the richness in their understanding of themselves as humans in this world.
And, I will know I have succeeded when I see strangers take the risk to see dance performances in their local towns and return to their homes and friends with stories of how they feel more alive and more "inside their skin". . . and how they couldn't resist dancing in their hearts out in their living room.
Showing posts with label dance company. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dance company. Show all posts
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Diving into the Experience
The art of craft of choreography is such an interesting practice of inquiry, trial, error and just plain old problem solving.
After attending this year's American College Dance Festival Association Conference (ACDFA), I feel clear on the needed work for my choreography. I need to dive in, to soak not only my feet but my entire self in the process. I need to walk straight into the waves and allow my clothes and self to be permeated by the creative waters.
I have done this before, but it has been a long time since I have had the luxury of time, space and energy to invest to this degree. Thinking back, the last time I got really soaked in the creative process was over ten years ago, in college and since then I have been progressively taking steps backward, away from the waves, until I now when find myself with only my feet and legs getting wet.
Why have I refrained from the total immersion in the creative pool?
A few reasons, and good ones. Practical ones. That should not just be tossed aside.
1. Choreography for art and choreography for teaching: Part of the reason I continue with my private company Megill & Company (MeCo) is because it is meant to be an outlet for my creative voice that is not affected by my pedagogical goals. When I choreograph for my students, I create dances that have a strong nugget of an idea, but dances that are geared toward the learning process of the student performers. In other words, when I choreograph for my students I practice the craft of choreography. I understand the needs of the dancers and shape the piece around that. I believe this is a noble goal and one that I feel is needed for maximal student learning. If my creative identity gets involved it becomes too messy. But as a result, these pieces, while they get me marginally wet, still leave parts of me dry.
2. Time and energy: So, if I have a clear vision for the way I choreograph for my students, how then does my work with MeCo differ? I have creative freedom, I know that intellectually. But, in my experience I find I am not going as deeply as I want. And, the reason is a lack of time and energy. The creative work I do for my full time teaching position, still taxes me creatively and energetically. So, when it comes to Sunday (today) when I gear up for rehearsal with MeCo, I am often totally spent. I manage to rehearse for 3-4 hours and then am done. The cup has been emptied and I am dry.
3. Fear: I realize that, if I really wanted to change I could. I could make more time for the gooey, amoebic, creative flow to come out. But, something is keeping me from doing that. . . good ol' fear. It is possible that I don't put the time and effort I want to put into the choreographic and rehearsal process, because I am afraid it won't be worth it? Because I am afraid that the piece will not be that good and that I will have failed as a creator despite my efforts? I know that I can create generally interesting, entertaining and semi-provocative pieces without diving into the ocean, so I often choose to play it safe and do just that. It is possible I don't put in the requisite time and energy because it gives me an excuse in the end (especially if it doesn't work out). I'm safe. But, I am also not living up to my full creative potential.
At ACDFA, I saw over 80 dances and many of them used similar movement vocabulary, similar music and similar compositional structures. This is not bad, especially when I look at the experience through the lens of a dance educator. These are needed experiences. But, I feel a pull to do something else. To find my voice, refine it and see what it can really sound like. It might be the song of a nightingale; it might be the hoot of an owl, a caw of the crow, or the call of the morning dove, but it will be better than a fearful mockingbird.
I need to set fear aside and take the leap, off the top diving board, into the pool. Then swim like mad and hope I reach the edge before my limbs give out.
After attending this year's American College Dance Festival Association Conference (ACDFA), I feel clear on the needed work for my choreography. I need to dive in, to soak not only my feet but my entire self in the process. I need to walk straight into the waves and allow my clothes and self to be permeated by the creative waters.
I have done this before, but it has been a long time since I have had the luxury of time, space and energy to invest to this degree. Thinking back, the last time I got really soaked in the creative process was over ten years ago, in college and since then I have been progressively taking steps backward, away from the waves, until I now when find myself with only my feet and legs getting wet.
Why have I refrained from the total immersion in the creative pool?
A few reasons, and good ones. Practical ones. That should not just be tossed aside.
1. Choreography for art and choreography for teaching: Part of the reason I continue with my private company Megill & Company (MeCo) is because it is meant to be an outlet for my creative voice that is not affected by my pedagogical goals. When I choreograph for my students, I create dances that have a strong nugget of an idea, but dances that are geared toward the learning process of the student performers. In other words, when I choreograph for my students I practice the craft of choreography. I understand the needs of the dancers and shape the piece around that. I believe this is a noble goal and one that I feel is needed for maximal student learning. If my creative identity gets involved it becomes too messy. But as a result, these pieces, while they get me marginally wet, still leave parts of me dry.
2. Time and energy: So, if I have a clear vision for the way I choreograph for my students, how then does my work with MeCo differ? I have creative freedom, I know that intellectually. But, in my experience I find I am not going as deeply as I want. And, the reason is a lack of time and energy. The creative work I do for my full time teaching position, still taxes me creatively and energetically. So, when it comes to Sunday (today) when I gear up for rehearsal with MeCo, I am often totally spent. I manage to rehearse for 3-4 hours and then am done. The cup has been emptied and I am dry.
3. Fear: I realize that, if I really wanted to change I could. I could make more time for the gooey, amoebic, creative flow to come out. But, something is keeping me from doing that. . . good ol' fear. It is possible that I don't put the time and effort I want to put into the choreographic and rehearsal process, because I am afraid it won't be worth it? Because I am afraid that the piece will not be that good and that I will have failed as a creator despite my efforts? I know that I can create generally interesting, entertaining and semi-provocative pieces without diving into the ocean, so I often choose to play it safe and do just that. It is possible I don't put in the requisite time and energy because it gives me an excuse in the end (especially if it doesn't work out). I'm safe. But, I am also not living up to my full creative potential.
At ACDFA, I saw over 80 dances and many of them used similar movement vocabulary, similar music and similar compositional structures. This is not bad, especially when I look at the experience through the lens of a dance educator. These are needed experiences. But, I feel a pull to do something else. To find my voice, refine it and see what it can really sound like. It might be the song of a nightingale; it might be the hoot of an owl, a caw of the crow, or the call of the morning dove, but it will be better than a fearful mockingbird.
I need to set fear aside and take the leap, off the top diving board, into the pool. Then swim like mad and hope I reach the edge before my limbs give out.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Giving Yourself Permission
Yes, my title says "dance instructor" but studying the arts is so much more than than. For me the dance classroom is a place students can discover life.
I've been on a bit of a tear recently: seeing the varied injustices in the dance world, the bad habits, the unhealthy behaviors and negative self images. But, rather than get angry, I have decided to combat it one class at a time. I can't let it get me down, because these struggles are at the heart life learning. The arts really are our forum for self discovery.
How we are (exist, behave, think, work, play) in the dance classroom is reflective of how we are in the rest of our lives. If you are hard on yourself in dance class, you are likely hard on yourself in all other aspects of your "life performance." If you use dance as an "escape," what are you trying to escape? If you stop yourself from trying for fear of failure, how does that exist in your home life, school life, relationships?
I had a student if my office who was suffering from lack of confidence and had started berating himself continually in class. He identified frustration with executing a tricky turn (appropriately called a lame duck-- oh the irony).
And I asked him the following series of questions:
What if you gave yourself permission to struggle with that turn?
What would that feel like?
What would that look like?
What is the worst that would happen?
How can you give yourself permission to go at your own pace, to honor your personal growth and your personal needs?
Big questions, and of course much deeper than actually performing this stinky little turn! Dance is not about the turn, dance is about your approach to life. Can we choose to cultivate healthy behaviors and thoughts in the dance class. Can we give ourselves compassion rather than self inflicted pain? Can we let go of the outcome and enjoy the process?
Of course, it will take practice. And, it should. We need to practice healthier thoughts, healthier views on learning. Can we confront challenges with self compassion? A generous spirit and love?
So, that is my motto for the weekend. As I prepare to enter the world that is the Rogue Festival in Fresno, I ask myself how can I let others know that they have permission? Permission to make healthy choices that will foster their growth and allows them to blossom.
Of course, the answer is simple I have to start with giving myself permission. So I declare today, that I give myself permission to let go of control. I grant myself freedom from expectations. I give myself permission to simply go along with the ride, to speak and dance only from the heart and to see what happens.
I've been on a bit of a tear recently: seeing the varied injustices in the dance world, the bad habits, the unhealthy behaviors and negative self images. But, rather than get angry, I have decided to combat it one class at a time. I can't let it get me down, because these struggles are at the heart life learning. The arts really are our forum for self discovery.
How we are (exist, behave, think, work, play) in the dance classroom is reflective of how we are in the rest of our lives. If you are hard on yourself in dance class, you are likely hard on yourself in all other aspects of your "life performance." If you use dance as an "escape," what are you trying to escape? If you stop yourself from trying for fear of failure, how does that exist in your home life, school life, relationships?
I had a student if my office who was suffering from lack of confidence and had started berating himself continually in class. He identified frustration with executing a tricky turn (appropriately called a lame duck-- oh the irony).
And I asked him the following series of questions:
What if you gave yourself permission to struggle with that turn?
What would that feel like?
What would that look like?
What is the worst that would happen?
How can you give yourself permission to go at your own pace, to honor your personal growth and your personal needs?
Big questions, and of course much deeper than actually performing this stinky little turn! Dance is not about the turn, dance is about your approach to life. Can we choose to cultivate healthy behaviors and thoughts in the dance class. Can we give ourselves compassion rather than self inflicted pain? Can we let go of the outcome and enjoy the process?
Of course, it will take practice. And, it should. We need to practice healthier thoughts, healthier views on learning. Can we confront challenges with self compassion? A generous spirit and love?
So, that is my motto for the weekend. As I prepare to enter the world that is the Rogue Festival in Fresno, I ask myself how can I let others know that they have permission? Permission to make healthy choices that will foster their growth and allows them to blossom.
Of course, the answer is simple I have to start with giving myself permission. So I declare today, that I give myself permission to let go of control. I grant myself freedom from expectations. I give myself permission to simply go along with the ride, to speak and dance only from the heart and to see what happens.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Ego vs Artist
(I wrote the first draft of this blog 2 weeks ago while I was up in the Bay Area... I never actually posted it, so I am sharing it now with some current additions. Enjoy!)
I attended the San Francisco Zen Center yesterday evening. I had a wonderful time sitting in the location where Shunryu Suzuki first established the Soto Zen practice in the United States. I had read his biography over a year ago, The Crooked Cucumber. It, in combination, of Natalie Goldberg's books (on Zen and Writing) were the two influences that prompted me to delve into Zen Buddhism.
Now, I try to go to the Northridge Beginner's Mind Zen Center when I have time and sit occasionally at home or in other meditation groups some of which are not necessary Buddhist but fill my need for sangha (like minded community).
My current question is centered around my experience as an artist and how to navigate the dance making process while not succumbing to the whims of the ego (a big No No in the Buddhist world). This line of questioning actually started about a year ago, when I first created this blog. The challenge of being a performing artist is inherent in the art itself. Dance is a live art form dependent on others. If I were just a poet, I could feasibly write and write and write without ever having to show anyone and then allow my work to be found in a trunk after I am gone, not caring whether they publish a series of books from the vast amount of writing or simply stick it in the recycle bin.
Being a poet seems like it would be so much simpler in that way. I wouldn't have to be around when others read it, I wouldn't have to worry about renting a studio or theater or gathering dancers to volunteer their time and talents for my vision. A poet can work alone, at any time, day or night without hindrance.
But, I am a performer and a creator of performance. And, here is the crux of my suffering, I want people to want to see my work and (gasp) like the work.
But, why???
I haven't quite sorted that out yet. In the worst case it is because I am egotistical. The best case is that I have a mission to bring joy and mindfulness to the world through dance. The trouble comes when I can't tell which is the driving force.
Trouble.
Am I merely a self centered egoist? Or am I the ultimate altruistic artist?
Why am I driven to do what I do?
I need to spend a lot more time figuring this out and ASAP. Because, in the meantime I am suffering. I suffer each time I feel a pang of envy, or a shake of insecurity. I feel it when I bristle upon hearing of others success and in all the hours I plague myself with self doubt and dislike for the work I create. I am suffering, and it is ugly. I don't like admitting it. I am embarrassed. But, this is the truth, and I gather that this is the truth for many or even most artists.
We may not know why we are driven to do what we do and I believe losing the context of why we create plays a large part in our suffering as artists. I am fortunate that I make my living teaching therefore I don't have to make money with my art. But, it still feels overwhelmingly important to me. And, I want to make sure it is important for the RIGHT reason. Not to feed my ego but to feed my spirit and the spirit of the dancer and audience members (more on that coming soon).
Here is a list I have come up with to help me determine whether I am working from a healthy or detrimental place. Perhaps you will enjoy the list as well.
Beth
Signs that I am an egotistical artist:
-- Focus on the other: sometimes I catch myself thinking too much about what other people are doing with their dances. This should be irrelevant. It is one thing to observe and enjoy; it is another to use these opportunities for either self validation or flagellation.
--Frustration with the product: The product is irrelevant, art making is about the process. The dance should be nothing more than the residue of the creative experience.
--Identification with the dance: I am not the dance. My success is not tied to the success of the dance. There is no success to be attained.
--Desire for validation/accolades: This is a big one for me. I want people to tell me it was good! I want people to like it. But, I need to rethink why I want a positive response. It is because I hope to create art that touches the hearts of the audience or because I want praise.
Signs I am an altruistic artist:
--Enjoyment/witness of the other: In watching a dance artist I am inspired to continue my path with the new insight from those around me.
--Joy of Process: I know I am in the right place when going to the studio or rehearsal is fun! And, even problem solving is fun.
--Focus on the Message: I create dances with a message (sometimes for me sometimes for the world). When I am creating from this place, it takes ME out of the equation and puts the goal of the art at the forefront.
--Self care/ Self love: I know I am working from a healthy place when I can offer myself deep compassion through the struggles that are inherent in a creative process. When I forget to forgive myself/love myself/have patience with myself then I am in a fighting place. I am fighting with my ego that has expectations that are unhelpful to the process.
In short when I am creating from this place....
... I know I am creating from the right place.
I attended the San Francisco Zen Center yesterday evening. I had a wonderful time sitting in the location where Shunryu Suzuki first established the Soto Zen practice in the United States. I had read his biography over a year ago, The Crooked Cucumber. It, in combination, of Natalie Goldberg's books (on Zen and Writing) were the two influences that prompted me to delve into Zen Buddhism.
Now, I try to go to the Northridge Beginner's Mind Zen Center when I have time and sit occasionally at home or in other meditation groups some of which are not necessary Buddhist but fill my need for sangha (like minded community).
My current question is centered around my experience as an artist and how to navigate the dance making process while not succumbing to the whims of the ego (a big No No in the Buddhist world). This line of questioning actually started about a year ago, when I first created this blog. The challenge of being a performing artist is inherent in the art itself. Dance is a live art form dependent on others. If I were just a poet, I could feasibly write and write and write without ever having to show anyone and then allow my work to be found in a trunk after I am gone, not caring whether they publish a series of books from the vast amount of writing or simply stick it in the recycle bin.
Being a poet seems like it would be so much simpler in that way. I wouldn't have to be around when others read it, I wouldn't have to worry about renting a studio or theater or gathering dancers to volunteer their time and talents for my vision. A poet can work alone, at any time, day or night without hindrance.
But, I am a performer and a creator of performance. And, here is the crux of my suffering, I want people to want to see my work and (gasp) like the work.
But, why???
I haven't quite sorted that out yet. In the worst case it is because I am egotistical. The best case is that I have a mission to bring joy and mindfulness to the world through dance. The trouble comes when I can't tell which is the driving force.
Trouble.
Am I merely a self centered egoist? Or am I the ultimate altruistic artist?
Why am I driven to do what I do?
I need to spend a lot more time figuring this out and ASAP. Because, in the meantime I am suffering. I suffer each time I feel a pang of envy, or a shake of insecurity. I feel it when I bristle upon hearing of others success and in all the hours I plague myself with self doubt and dislike for the work I create. I am suffering, and it is ugly. I don't like admitting it. I am embarrassed. But, this is the truth, and I gather that this is the truth for many or even most artists.
We may not know why we are driven to do what we do and I believe losing the context of why we create plays a large part in our suffering as artists. I am fortunate that I make my living teaching therefore I don't have to make money with my art. But, it still feels overwhelmingly important to me. And, I want to make sure it is important for the RIGHT reason. Not to feed my ego but to feed my spirit and the spirit of the dancer and audience members (more on that coming soon).
Here is a list I have come up with to help me determine whether I am working from a healthy or detrimental place. Perhaps you will enjoy the list as well.
Beth
Signs that I am an egotistical artist:
-- Focus on the other: sometimes I catch myself thinking too much about what other people are doing with their dances. This should be irrelevant. It is one thing to observe and enjoy; it is another to use these opportunities for either self validation or flagellation.
--Frustration with the product: The product is irrelevant, art making is about the process. The dance should be nothing more than the residue of the creative experience.
--Identification with the dance: I am not the dance. My success is not tied to the success of the dance. There is no success to be attained.
--Desire for validation/accolades: This is a big one for me. I want people to tell me it was good! I want people to like it. But, I need to rethink why I want a positive response. It is because I hope to create art that touches the hearts of the audience or because I want praise.
Signs I am an altruistic artist:
--Enjoyment/witness of the other: In watching a dance artist I am inspired to continue my path with the new insight from those around me.
--Joy of Process: I know I am in the right place when going to the studio or rehearsal is fun! And, even problem solving is fun.
--Focus on the Message: I create dances with a message (sometimes for me sometimes for the world). When I am creating from this place, it takes ME out of the equation and puts the goal of the art at the forefront.
--Self care/ Self love: I know I am working from a healthy place when I can offer myself deep compassion through the struggles that are inherent in a creative process. When I forget to forgive myself/love myself/have patience with myself then I am in a fighting place. I am fighting with my ego that has expectations that are unhelpful to the process.
In short when I am creating from this place....
Monday, June 11, 2012
5 Things I Know to be True
I must give credit to my friend and fellow poet (also a Razor Babe) Maggie Westland for this writing prompt, but I can't for the life of me remember where SHE got it. . .
I am traveling again and one bit of homework I have for myself it to write everyday. And, to kick it off I am posting my first entry here for your enjoyment!
5 Thing I know to be True (Prompt courtesy of Maggie Westland)
1. The Interstate 5 is a dreadfully long and straight road that will put any lone driver into a trance that can not be fended off with any amount of caffeine, thus forcing the driver to take a car-nap in Kettleman City while strategically parked beside a small tree in the Jack in the Box parking lot.
2. Yesterday Megill & Company had its second annual Tournament Day (the games of which include Gaucho, Corners, Kings Cup and our newly created Colors of Summer) to celebrate summer, and I have decided that it really deserves its own Anthem. And, flag.
3. Jonathon Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is a great audiobook, but is still no match for I-5's ability zombify the lone driver.
4. My fold-able, silver, Car Windshield Sunshade that I bought at the dollar store (for a dollar) is perhaps the best investment I have made in a while as it conveniently doubles up as a left arm protector when I fold it in half and pin it between my left knee and the car door in just the right position so that the afternoon sun is blocked from giving me a nasty sunburn. Brilliant. (Bonus: As the sun continued to set, I was able to tuck a corner of the silver screen under my bra strap for total left side sun protection)
5. The windmill field on I-580 (known as the 580 to we southern Californians) is the best part of driving to the bay area. It almost makes the monotony of I-5 worth it. Almost.
I am traveling again and one bit of homework I have for myself it to write everyday. And, to kick it off I am posting my first entry here for your enjoyment!
5 Thing I know to be True (Prompt courtesy of Maggie Westland)
1. The Interstate 5 is a dreadfully long and straight road that will put any lone driver into a trance that can not be fended off with any amount of caffeine, thus forcing the driver to take a car-nap in Kettleman City while strategically parked beside a small tree in the Jack in the Box parking lot.
2. Yesterday Megill & Company had its second annual Tournament Day (the games of which include Gaucho, Corners, Kings Cup and our newly created Colors of Summer) to celebrate summer, and I have decided that it really deserves its own Anthem. And, flag.
3. Jonathon Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is a great audiobook, but is still no match for I-5's ability zombify the lone driver.
4. My fold-able, silver, Car Windshield Sunshade that I bought at the dollar store (for a dollar) is perhaps the best investment I have made in a while as it conveniently doubles up as a left arm protector when I fold it in half and pin it between my left knee and the car door in just the right position so that the afternoon sun is blocked from giving me a nasty sunburn. Brilliant. (Bonus: As the sun continued to set, I was able to tuck a corner of the silver screen under my bra strap for total left side sun protection)
5. The windmill field on I-580 (known as the 580 to we southern Californians) is the best part of driving to the bay area. It almost makes the monotony of I-5 worth it. Almost.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
We can't all win the lottery… Or can we?
I realized yesterday, as I was slugging through my long unattended email, that I hate checking my email. Rather, I always knew that I hated checking my email, but last night I think I have finally sorted out why.
There is just too much information and too many "calls to action". I can't handle it, and it makes me feel terrible. I have a similar response to going on Facebook. It seems to me that most people on Facebook truly enjoying sharing part of their lives and have fun commenting and "liking" this or that picture, video, event or link. I, on the other hand, log onto Facebook with a sigh, a heavy feeling of obligation that just doesn't seem right.
I have a pretty full life, I am active and productive in my career and in my hobbies. People think of me as a busy person who is high achieving. So, I guess it's probably true, but I don't feel high achieving. I feel like I am barely getting through, and often I get very disappointed that I haven't done more. Or, done what I do better. So, I am constantly working, and as a result I don't have time to even read through all my email let alone the Facebook postings on my home page.
Plus, when I do get around to addressing my hundreds of emails and Facebook event invites, I have no choice but to decline or bypass most of them because I am too busy with my own projects and events.
But, here lies the root of the problem as I see it.
Each person has his or her own agenda, own project, own web series, own kickstarter, own performance, own blog, own Etsy, own e-paper. We have become a world of self starters (empowered to make our own project a success!) myself included. After all, I have my own dance company and I have my own blog (obviously as you are reading it). And, yes, I hope that people will support my endeavors by attending my shows and reading my blog. But, why? Or rather, why should people chose my project or show over another?
Yes, we can all write blogs and produce performances, but if we are all busy on the creating end, then we are too busy to be on the receiving/supporting end. Sure, we can all start our own projects and kickstarter funds, but are there enough supporters and funds to go around? Is there enough room for everyone to be successful? Can every lottery ticket be a winner?
I want to support the projects that come through my email and Facebook.
Here are a list of projects I supported (in some way with my time and energy) yesterday:
1. My friend Lauren Reeder's Web Series "Living with Models"
2. A survey on Motif Notation and Emotions (Dance Notation Research)
3. MixMatch Festival
4. Nancy Evans Dance Theater
5. My friend Gina's Recovery Blog (about eating disorders)
Out of the myriad requests that were sent to me, those are the only five I had time to address. But, I can't do that everyday! I am playing catch up! This is how I spend my vacation.
We are living in a time when we are all individuals working toward individual or perhaps small group goals. Many of us have moved away from dedicating our lives to a large group organization, church or a club (Rotary or Kiwanis). We are working toward self defined goals that can be very exciting, but I think it is coming at a cost, because it is scattering our energies and perhaps even sabotaging the larger success of a few ideas.
But, whose idea is worthy? Whose project deserves the greater success? Who holds the winning lottery ticket?
Megill & Company (my dance company) has an opportunity to go to Istanbul next summer. At least, the trip is in the works. Of course the challenge will be financing the trip. Do I create a kickstarter? Do I try my hand in the lottery of projects, beseeching my friends and family to support my creative endeavors over someone else's project?
I am torn.
Do you support something? Many things?
How would it feel to just support other people for a while? To let go of my own projects and pour my energy into something bigger? Could I affect more change? It is very confusing for me as an artist.
One thing is clear, I create because I have to create, and I know I won't ever be able to let that go. I believe my choreography is a form of social service. It is my gift to the world. So, whether i like it or not, I guess my lottery ticket is in the pool.
In the meantime, I will be more mindful of others projects and see if there isn't a way I can better support them and their endeavors just as I hope they will support mine.
There is just too much information and too many "calls to action". I can't handle it, and it makes me feel terrible. I have a similar response to going on Facebook. It seems to me that most people on Facebook truly enjoying sharing part of their lives and have fun commenting and "liking" this or that picture, video, event or link. I, on the other hand, log onto Facebook with a sigh, a heavy feeling of obligation that just doesn't seem right.
I have a pretty full life, I am active and productive in my career and in my hobbies. People think of me as a busy person who is high achieving. So, I guess it's probably true, but I don't feel high achieving. I feel like I am barely getting through, and often I get very disappointed that I haven't done more. Or, done what I do better. So, I am constantly working, and as a result I don't have time to even read through all my email let alone the Facebook postings on my home page.
Plus, when I do get around to addressing my hundreds of emails and Facebook event invites, I have no choice but to decline or bypass most of them because I am too busy with my own projects and events.
But, here lies the root of the problem as I see it.
Each person has his or her own agenda, own project, own web series, own kickstarter, own performance, own blog, own Etsy, own e-paper. We have become a world of self starters (empowered to make our own project a success!) myself included. After all, I have my own dance company and I have my own blog (obviously as you are reading it). And, yes, I hope that people will support my endeavors by attending my shows and reading my blog. But, why? Or rather, why should people chose my project or show over another?
Yes, we can all write blogs and produce performances, but if we are all busy on the creating end, then we are too busy to be on the receiving/supporting end. Sure, we can all start our own projects and kickstarter funds, but are there enough supporters and funds to go around? Is there enough room for everyone to be successful? Can every lottery ticket be a winner?
I want to support the projects that come through my email and Facebook.
Here are a list of projects I supported (in some way with my time and energy) yesterday:
1. My friend Lauren Reeder's Web Series "Living with Models"
2. A survey on Motif Notation and Emotions (Dance Notation Research)
3. MixMatch Festival
4. Nancy Evans Dance Theater
5. My friend Gina's Recovery Blog (about eating disorders)
Out of the myriad requests that were sent to me, those are the only five I had time to address. But, I can't do that everyday! I am playing catch up! This is how I spend my vacation.
We are living in a time when we are all individuals working toward individual or perhaps small group goals. Many of us have moved away from dedicating our lives to a large group organization, church or a club (Rotary or Kiwanis). We are working toward self defined goals that can be very exciting, but I think it is coming at a cost, because it is scattering our energies and perhaps even sabotaging the larger success of a few ideas.
But, whose idea is worthy? Whose project deserves the greater success? Who holds the winning lottery ticket?
Megill & Company (my dance company) has an opportunity to go to Istanbul next summer. At least, the trip is in the works. Of course the challenge will be financing the trip. Do I create a kickstarter? Do I try my hand in the lottery of projects, beseeching my friends and family to support my creative endeavors over someone else's project?
I am torn.
Do you support something? Many things?
How would it feel to just support other people for a while? To let go of my own projects and pour my energy into something bigger? Could I affect more change? It is very confusing for me as an artist.
One thing is clear, I create because I have to create, and I know I won't ever be able to let that go. I believe my choreography is a form of social service. It is my gift to the world. So, whether i like it or not, I guess my lottery ticket is in the pool.
In the meantime, I will be more mindful of others projects and see if there isn't a way I can better support them and their endeavors just as I hope they will support mine.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Dance Review: Choreographer's Showcase at the Pasadena Dance Festival
Last night Megill & Company performed as part of the 5th annual Pasadena Dance Festival in the Choreographer's Showcase held at Lineage Performing Arts Center. The following are a few of my reflections on the wonderful performances given.
The evening of dance opened with a stunning work by Clairobscur Dance Company under the direction of Laurie Sefton entitled Obviam Somes. The five dancers were stunning dressed in blue and sea foam gorgette gowns that elegantly evoked the hospital and surgery themes of the dance. The excerpts presented were varied and dynamic, at times soothing and serene as well as powerful, dramatic and athletic. The dancers' technique was exquisite. Sefton's highly defined movements and fluid use of space was punctuated by moments of repetitive rolls and springs that were executed with finesse and power. Overall I appreciated the narrative of the piece as well as the dynamic vocabulary and excellent use of the dancer's facility.
Nancy Even's Dance Theater presented SHIFT: Shifting Sands - Age vs. Time set to an original score by Blake Colie. This female duet had a playful balance between modern dance technique and a more theatrical tone. The female dancers were convincing in their at-odds-characters who battled over the grip of time and age represented with cloaks which they manipulated through the space with ease. The swirling visual impressions of the cloaks is what will stick with me the most from this piece, although there were powerful moments of partnering between the two dancers as one dominated and controlled the other with a knowing attitude. The piece ended with a theatrical moment in which one dancer grabbed her discarded cloak before exiting. Was it in resignation? Frustration? Defiance? Whatever the impulse it was clear that she had been won, and she was not happy.
87 Dance Productions stood out from the rest of the evening with its use of oral histories (spoken interviews) that underscored thoughtful and well crafted choreography that ranged from beautifully touching to playfully articulate. Choreographed by Cara Hagan of North Carolina, the duet entitled Words Apart was performed by two sisters. Twins! But, they were visually and energetically very distinct and offered a depth to the piece that brought additional elements of nostalgia and family dynamics to the work. The partnering was precise and the storytelling never cliché or overwrought. The dance and words flowed together seamlessly making for a dance that was perfectly balanced and always engaging.
Megill & Company (MeCo) was next and of course it wouldn't be fair to go on and on about my own choreography. Plus, I do enough of that in other blog entries. But it was shared with me by Lineage Dance Artistic Director Hillary Thomas that she enjoyed the "punch" of the choreography in the evening's performance. I agree that the piece was unlike others in tone, quality and design. By contrast it was much more linear and contemporary (jazz) in feel. So, I was pleased that it didn't get lost in the shuffle. Although, it has brought me to reconsider my strengths and fears as a choreographer. More to come on that later. . .
Andrew Pearson presented a cool and hip female duet called Have I Made Myself Clear? that incorporated a folding table and two chairs. The opening of the piece is what I appreciated most about it. One girl taps her fingers on the plastic table top creating a live pulse for the other dancer to present the thematic material for the dance. I enjoyed the simplicity of the moment and the gestural qualities of the movement vocabulary. Playful sequences in which the two dancers interacted with their gestures was engaging and fun. I enjoyed watching the themes and motifs be reused and varied through out the work. The one question I had was about the role and purpose of the table and chair that got lost for me in the rest of the choreography after the opening sequence. Perhaps because the components were spread out on the stage and thus lost their impact as a unit.
Return from HJ Junction by David Popalisky was a refreshing piece in the concert because it truly managed to transport me to another time and place. In many ways I felt like it was a period drama done in dance. The trio of dancers were passionate and engaging for me. In this dance more than any other of the evening, I felt like the dancers were truly dancing from the heart, letting technique serve them but not drive them. In fact, this was the one piece in which I felt "technique" was unimportant and instead I was watching the story and the characters unfold. This may be haven been due to the more classical modern dance vocabulary and story telling that reminded me of the works of Humphrey and Weidman. Overall, I enjoyed the musicality, classical modern dance vocabulary and story telling aspects of this work.
Soloist Lindsey Lollie performed a captivating piece set to spoken word by Paul Matthis. The Next Step is To Go Back was an experiment in the physics of the body that was engaging and at times confounding to watch. Lollie performed her work with remarkable ease and control. Utilizing the most contemporary release techniques with a fluency I really admire. Her opening inversion and subtle head movements set up her physical strength and agility that did not wane throughout the piece.
Brian Moe's newly formed group, Inked Dance, performed a duet entitled Kinetic Residue. True to its name the dancers were in fact "inked" which made me wonder if someone wanted to dance with them who wasn't tattooed, if they would be shunned or forced to ink up! (haha!) But, tattoos aside the male female duet was an excellent study in partnering that was most enjoyable in its daring moments (like the counterbalanced penché with no arms!). The title idea of kinetic residue was less present for me than the more gymnastic partnering was, leaving me to wondering how the two fit together for the choreographer.
I am so pleased, Megill & Company was able to perform with such outstanding artists. It is always such a joy to see other people's work which inspires and drives me to explore more deeply my own choreographic endeavors. Thank you and congratulations to all who choreographed and performed.
(Please Note: I write this in the spirit of supporting dance and dance artists in the greater LA community. Any questions or concerns I express are merely observational and do not diminish the creative accomplishments of the works presented, but are simple reflections on what I saw and noticed.)
Please friend Megill & Company on Facebook to stay up to date on our latest performances!
The evening of dance opened with a stunning work by Clairobscur Dance Company under the direction of Laurie Sefton entitled Obviam Somes. The five dancers were stunning dressed in blue and sea foam gorgette gowns that elegantly evoked the hospital and surgery themes of the dance. The excerpts presented were varied and dynamic, at times soothing and serene as well as powerful, dramatic and athletic. The dancers' technique was exquisite. Sefton's highly defined movements and fluid use of space was punctuated by moments of repetitive rolls and springs that were executed with finesse and power. Overall I appreciated the narrative of the piece as well as the dynamic vocabulary and excellent use of the dancer's facility.
Nancy Even's Dance Theater presented SHIFT: Shifting Sands - Age vs. Time set to an original score by Blake Colie. This female duet had a playful balance between modern dance technique and a more theatrical tone. The female dancers were convincing in their at-odds-characters who battled over the grip of time and age represented with cloaks which they manipulated through the space with ease. The swirling visual impressions of the cloaks is what will stick with me the most from this piece, although there were powerful moments of partnering between the two dancers as one dominated and controlled the other with a knowing attitude. The piece ended with a theatrical moment in which one dancer grabbed her discarded cloak before exiting. Was it in resignation? Frustration? Defiance? Whatever the impulse it was clear that she had been won, and she was not happy.
87 Dance Productions stood out from the rest of the evening with its use of oral histories (spoken interviews) that underscored thoughtful and well crafted choreography that ranged from beautifully touching to playfully articulate. Choreographed by Cara Hagan of North Carolina, the duet entitled Words Apart was performed by two sisters. Twins! But, they were visually and energetically very distinct and offered a depth to the piece that brought additional elements of nostalgia and family dynamics to the work. The partnering was precise and the storytelling never cliché or overwrought. The dance and words flowed together seamlessly making for a dance that was perfectly balanced and always engaging.
Megill & Company (MeCo) was next and of course it wouldn't be fair to go on and on about my own choreography. Plus, I do enough of that in other blog entries. But it was shared with me by Lineage Dance Artistic Director Hillary Thomas that she enjoyed the "punch" of the choreography in the evening's performance. I agree that the piece was unlike others in tone, quality and design. By contrast it was much more linear and contemporary (jazz) in feel. So, I was pleased that it didn't get lost in the shuffle. Although, it has brought me to reconsider my strengths and fears as a choreographer. More to come on that later. . .
Andrew Pearson presented a cool and hip female duet called Have I Made Myself Clear? that incorporated a folding table and two chairs. The opening of the piece is what I appreciated most about it. One girl taps her fingers on the plastic table top creating a live pulse for the other dancer to present the thematic material for the dance. I enjoyed the simplicity of the moment and the gestural qualities of the movement vocabulary. Playful sequences in which the two dancers interacted with their gestures was engaging and fun. I enjoyed watching the themes and motifs be reused and varied through out the work. The one question I had was about the role and purpose of the table and chair that got lost for me in the rest of the choreography after the opening sequence. Perhaps because the components were spread out on the stage and thus lost their impact as a unit.
Return from HJ Junction by David Popalisky was a refreshing piece in the concert because it truly managed to transport me to another time and place. In many ways I felt like it was a period drama done in dance. The trio of dancers were passionate and engaging for me. In this dance more than any other of the evening, I felt like the dancers were truly dancing from the heart, letting technique serve them but not drive them. In fact, this was the one piece in which I felt "technique" was unimportant and instead I was watching the story and the characters unfold. This may be haven been due to the more classical modern dance vocabulary and story telling that reminded me of the works of Humphrey and Weidman. Overall, I enjoyed the musicality, classical modern dance vocabulary and story telling aspects of this work.
Soloist Lindsey Lollie performed a captivating piece set to spoken word by Paul Matthis. The Next Step is To Go Back was an experiment in the physics of the body that was engaging and at times confounding to watch. Lollie performed her work with remarkable ease and control. Utilizing the most contemporary release techniques with a fluency I really admire. Her opening inversion and subtle head movements set up her physical strength and agility that did not wane throughout the piece.
Brian Moe's newly formed group, Inked Dance, performed a duet entitled Kinetic Residue. True to its name the dancers were in fact "inked" which made me wonder if someone wanted to dance with them who wasn't tattooed, if they would be shunned or forced to ink up! (haha!) But, tattoos aside the male female duet was an excellent study in partnering that was most enjoyable in its daring moments (like the counterbalanced penché with no arms!). The title idea of kinetic residue was less present for me than the more gymnastic partnering was, leaving me to wondering how the two fit together for the choreographer.
I am so pleased, Megill & Company was able to perform with such outstanding artists. It is always such a joy to see other people's work which inspires and drives me to explore more deeply my own choreographic endeavors. Thank you and congratulations to all who choreographed and performed.
(Please Note: I write this in the spirit of supporting dance and dance artists in the greater LA community. Any questions or concerns I express are merely observational and do not diminish the creative accomplishments of the works presented, but are simple reflections on what I saw and noticed.)
Please friend Megill & Company on Facebook to stay up to date on our latest performances!
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
First World Problems: Stealing
Stealing sucks.
Over the weekend, while I was in Fresno with my dance company, my car window was smashed and the thief took my backpack (containing my month old MacBook Pro, iPad, iPod nano and video camera) and my bag full of props (big bells, tap shoes, costume bits etc.) for our show.
It sucked. But, I found myself responding my repeating this mantra over and over:
"It is just stuff. I am healthy and safe, my loved one's are healthy and safe and in general things are ok. This is just a first world problem not the end of the world"
I was on my way to teach a master dance class, so I actually went with a couple dancers while the others did costume and prop recognizance. I was shaken, but I didn't cry. I got to the studio explained why I was late and began the class.
"Lie down on the floor and notice your breath. Arrive fully in this moment. . . "
Admittedly I was saying it for myself as much as I was for them. But I did realize that in that moment everything was fine. I was safe and healthy doing something I love. Yes, I was going to have to deal with the sh*tty aspect of filing a police report and getting a new computer and spending $3,000 more dollars to replace things I has just purchased in January. But, in that teaching moment, everything was just as it needed to be. The students were lying on the wooden floor, breathing, noticing, observing and experiencing.
The class went well better than I expected under the circumstances, and when I got back to the house at which we were staying, I learned my friend's husband had already taken my car to get the window fixed and the dancers had managed to find or purchase nearly all the needed props.
The show that day went brilliantly. We rallied and the ensemble was the strongest it has ever been. It was a fantastic show and we managed to get it on tape so hopefully I will have something to post on YouTube soon!
Of course, I was emotionally spent from the whole event and feeling awfully guilty and embarrassed for having left the computer and prop bags in the car at all. But, I felt so honored that those around me came to my aid with such love and compassion My dancers and my dear friend Cristal whose house we were staying at managed to take care of virtually everything.
I tried to leave money on the counter to pay Cristal and her husband back for all they bought and paid for, but upon leaving the city found the same wad of cash nestled in the center console of my car. Similarly, I was given an envelop containing another handful of $20's from the students and their families. I was overwhelmed with their generosity.
I realize that I am loved.
I have spent the last three days processing the whole event. Buying a new computer (which I am typing on right now), a new iPad and trying to reclaim data from my external hard drive. And, I keep repeating "This is just a first world problem. . . "
I feel like I am almost put back together. Emotionally and logistically. But I could not have done it alone.
With deep gratitude and appreciation to all who cam to my aid,
Beth
PS The computer is now listed as "nando's macBook" in Selma on find my iPhone. And, I tell you if my mom ever gets to Selma and find's "nando" that guy better watch out because my mom is raving mad and I wouldn't put it past her to do some serious damage.
This picture is from "Belle of the Bowl". The crazy big ass bell was stolen in the prop bag and will be sorely missed. I can't imagine what the thieves thought when they opened our bag and found that!
Monday, November 28, 2011
Healthy Obligations
I have a feeling I might not get anything done if I weren't obliged to get it done. For example, I am very lucky to be a part of the Language of Dance® family (LOD®). This group of amazing dance instructors and pedagogs have included me in their adventures toward changing the face of dance literacy.
I sat on their panel at NDEO (National Dance educator Organization) and presented my findings, focusing on using dance theory and notation in an online dance appreciation course, with humility as I was surrounded by these women of profound knowledge, passion and dedication to dance and dance research. I am honored they consider me a colleague. But, this honor is the best motivator for work. In being included on this panel, I have become obligated to them. I feel a duty to them because they believe in me. They push me to make steps in my thinking and research that I otherwise would not take.
I am very fortunate to have tenure at my job, and, because I am not at a research institution, I don't have to publish or present at conferences in order to keep my job. But, these women motivate me to keep going. I want to make advances in dance research and dance literacy, and the best part is that I am not obligated by survival but by an inner sense of duty and obligation. Clearly there is no money to be had from these hours of pouring over a computer. But, there is honor.
I enjoy being obligated to them, because they challenge me to be the best I can be. In the past two days I wrote up my portion of the panel presentation and it turned out to be 8 pages single spaced (about 3,000 words) plus graphics. I would never have done that if I weren't obliged to do it. Trust, me, my crochet project, tv and latest book are all calling my name right now! But, I am glad I put in the work, ook the time, thought through the ideas, made something out of nothing.
It feels good.
I am similarly obligated to my dance company (MeCo), (again NOT for the money-- no money there either-- do we see a trend developing?!?). I am obligated by my fantastic dancers, their dedication tot he projects and their unending trust in me. I won't let them down because I am honored to work with them each week. In a similar way I am obligated to my students (but that gets messy because that is my job-- but still, I am obligated and committed to it heart and soul so it too pushes me to be better).
People talk about "self-motivation," but I am not quite sure there is any situation that solely allows for self-motivation. I think it is healthy to be obligated to others. If I waited to do things out of self motivation, I would get half as much done. It is easy to waste away the days.
So, thank you to everyone to whom I have been obligated at one point or another. You have pushed me to become a better person, to do more than I thought I was capable of and grow in ways I never expected.
Still, obligations (good or bad) can make you sleepy, which I am right now. So, it is time for me to say goodnight!
I sat on their panel at NDEO (National Dance educator Organization) and presented my findings, focusing on using dance theory and notation in an online dance appreciation course, with humility as I was surrounded by these women of profound knowledge, passion and dedication to dance and dance research. I am honored they consider me a colleague. But, this honor is the best motivator for work. In being included on this panel, I have become obligated to them. I feel a duty to them because they believe in me. They push me to make steps in my thinking and research that I otherwise would not take.
I am very fortunate to have tenure at my job, and, because I am not at a research institution, I don't have to publish or present at conferences in order to keep my job. But, these women motivate me to keep going. I want to make advances in dance research and dance literacy, and the best part is that I am not obligated by survival but by an inner sense of duty and obligation. Clearly there is no money to be had from these hours of pouring over a computer. But, there is honor.
I enjoy being obligated to them, because they challenge me to be the best I can be. In the past two days I wrote up my portion of the panel presentation and it turned out to be 8 pages single spaced (about 3,000 words) plus graphics. I would never have done that if I weren't obliged to do it. Trust, me, my crochet project, tv and latest book are all calling my name right now! But, I am glad I put in the work, ook the time, thought through the ideas, made something out of nothing.
It feels good.
I am similarly obligated to my dance company (MeCo), (again NOT for the money-- no money there either-- do we see a trend developing?!?). I am obligated by my fantastic dancers, their dedication tot he projects and their unending trust in me. I won't let them down because I am honored to work with them each week. In a similar way I am obligated to my students (but that gets messy because that is my job-- but still, I am obligated and committed to it heart and soul so it too pushes me to be better).
People talk about "self-motivation," but I am not quite sure there is any situation that solely allows for self-motivation. I think it is healthy to be obligated to others. If I waited to do things out of self motivation, I would get half as much done. It is easy to waste away the days.
So, thank you to everyone to whom I have been obligated at one point or another. You have pushed me to become a better person, to do more than I thought I was capable of and grow in ways I never expected.
Still, obligations (good or bad) can make you sleepy, which I am right now. So, it is time for me to say goodnight!
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Twitter for Mindfulness
Perhaps you have read or heard about Mindfulness. If you have read any of the more popular Buddhists texts by Thich Naht Hanh or Pema Chodren, then you have certainly encountered the idea even if it was called something else. Likewise, if you practice yoga and have ever performed pranayama (breath control/meditation) or seated meditation then you have practiced being mindful.
But, the practice of mindfulness in daily life amidst work drama, family crisis, personal health issues and the rest of life's curves balls takes practice and discipline. I would like to present an unexpected mindfulness tool I recently discovered: Twitter.
Yes, I was one of those people who "didn't get Twitter" and scoffed at the ridiculousness of "saying something in 140 characters or less." I only got my Twitter account (@BethMegill) a couple months ago because I was feeling desperate with my dance company, and knew I needed to try something new to broaden Megill & Company's (MeCo) exposure. So, I created a Twitter account in my name. No hiding behind anything, no ulterior motives. Everyone would know who I was, and I had to be ok with that.
I didn't really post anything until about two months ago. I didn't know about RT (retweets) or hashtags (which I always knew as a pound sign). The, I drew the line and made a decision: I will tweet despite all my concerns and misgivings about it. I have to at least TRY it. At first, it felt weird to post what I was thinking, what I was doing, and what I saw at any given moment, but it gradually became part of my day, and I found that you can say a lot in 140 characters. And, sometimes it is just a pointer to more info which is often very useful/entertaining/interesting.
But, the best and most unexpected benefit of Twitter has nothing to do with my initial motives at all. I discovered that in making Twitter a part of my day, I was making reflection part of my day. Twitter was helping me become more mindful!
I find that Twitter helps me to put things into perspective as I find myself in sticky situations or frustrating states of mind. In deciding what to post, I have to make a decision about what I want to say. And, in deciding what I want to say, I have to make a decision about what is important to say. And, in order to decide what is important to say I have to decide what is import (period!).
This has become an excellent practice of mindfulness. I often wonder what I will tweet next. "Is this important?" "Is this interesting?" "Is this worth sharing?" I realized that these questions were not for any of my "followers" but for myself. Through this reflection, I am really asking: "What is important to me?" "Is what I am doing interesting and worth doing?" "Am I making decisions that I am proud of and will feel comfortable sharing with others?" Twitter makes me accountable to myself. It helps me lead the life I want to live by reminding me to stay true to my beliefs and values.
I find that I have been more relaxed, more productive, more playful, more joy filled, and more interested in general. I see the world as more real because I have my eyes opened. Of course I am excited when someone responds to a tweet (just as I am when you respond with a comment to this blog). It is exciting to think that something I have shared has given someone else joy or a moment for pause and reflection, but ultimately I tweet for myself and what the practice gives me on a daily basis.
We shall see how long this trend lasts, perhaps it is just a phase that will come and go as so many things do. But for now, I am grateful and appreciative of how this program (that I bad mouthed and snickered at for so long) has actually deepened my practices. Thank you Twitter. And, special thanks to those who follow and share in my practice. You are my sangha.
But, the practice of mindfulness in daily life amidst work drama, family crisis, personal health issues and the rest of life's curves balls takes practice and discipline. I would like to present an unexpected mindfulness tool I recently discovered: Twitter.
Yes, I was one of those people who "didn't get Twitter" and scoffed at the ridiculousness of "saying something in 140 characters or less." I only got my Twitter account (@BethMegill) a couple months ago because I was feeling desperate with my dance company, and knew I needed to try something new to broaden Megill & Company's (MeCo) exposure. So, I created a Twitter account in my name. No hiding behind anything, no ulterior motives. Everyone would know who I was, and I had to be ok with that.
I didn't really post anything until about two months ago. I didn't know about RT (retweets) or hashtags (which I always knew as a pound sign). The, I drew the line and made a decision: I will tweet despite all my concerns and misgivings about it. I have to at least TRY it. At first, it felt weird to post what I was thinking, what I was doing, and what I saw at any given moment, but it gradually became part of my day, and I found that you can say a lot in 140 characters. And, sometimes it is just a pointer to more info which is often very useful/entertaining/interesting.
But, the best and most unexpected benefit of Twitter has nothing to do with my initial motives at all. I discovered that in making Twitter a part of my day, I was making reflection part of my day. Twitter was helping me become more mindful!
I find that Twitter helps me to put things into perspective as I find myself in sticky situations or frustrating states of mind. In deciding what to post, I have to make a decision about what I want to say. And, in deciding what I want to say, I have to make a decision about what is important to say. And, in order to decide what is important to say I have to decide what is import (period!).
This has become an excellent practice of mindfulness. I often wonder what I will tweet next. "Is this important?" "Is this interesting?" "Is this worth sharing?" I realized that these questions were not for any of my "followers" but for myself. Through this reflection, I am really asking: "What is important to me?" "Is what I am doing interesting and worth doing?" "Am I making decisions that I am proud of and will feel comfortable sharing with others?" Twitter makes me accountable to myself. It helps me lead the life I want to live by reminding me to stay true to my beliefs and values.
I find that I have been more relaxed, more productive, more playful, more joy filled, and more interested in general. I see the world as more real because I have my eyes opened. Of course I am excited when someone responds to a tweet (just as I am when you respond with a comment to this blog). It is exciting to think that something I have shared has given someone else joy or a moment for pause and reflection, but ultimately I tweet for myself and what the practice gives me on a daily basis.
We shall see how long this trend lasts, perhaps it is just a phase that will come and go as so many things do. But for now, I am grateful and appreciative of how this program (that I bad mouthed and snickered at for so long) has actually deepened my practices. Thank you Twitter. And, special thanks to those who follow and share in my practice. You are my sangha.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Trying out that Twitter thing. . .
It's true. I now have a twitter account and plan to use it. And I am certainly having mixed emotions about it all. One thing I do know is that this social networking stuff is hard work! Time consuming and mentally taxing if nothing else. And, I have the feeling it is harder at the beginning before it becomes a more self perpetuating mechanism. It is like having time for your friends. When you move to a new place you have all the time in the world but no friends to hang out with. But, once you get embedded in a group of friends, then your hanging out perpetuates itself and if anything you don't have enough time to see everyone you want to see.
But, I have to believe that this work will be worth it. My dance company Megill & Company takes my breath away. The dancers are unbelievably beautiful, passionate, easy to work with, funny. . . the list goes on. Bottom line is they need to be seen. They deserve to be seen and enjoyed. The more I see what is happening in the dance world the more I see that we fill a particular niche. Dance theater. Not quite Bill T. Jones. But in concept not too far. We enjoy being playful, making commentary, challenging the line between entertainment and art but working on the other end of the spectrum from the entertainment industry. We tell stories through movement (and sometimes words). Those who have seen us seem to like us. At least that is what I have heard so far.
So, I need to make the effort. Twitter here I am. Subject to your madness and hash tags (also known as a pound sign by the way for the rest of us who are not up to date on the twitter lingo). I want to get the word out, because the work is being made; it is coming together, and before we know it, we will need an audience. Someone to listen to our stories and see us give away our hearts in movement.
Dance, like ensemble music, is a communal phenomenon. It was born out of people coming together and sharing; it thrives under those conditions. Dancing can't be written down in a journal or book to be discovered posthumously. A choreographer can't lock herself up in her room to make dance after dance without any one knowing. Such dances would be lost to the world. Even a video of the dance would be a shadow of its real effect and power.
Dance is a living art and a performance art that is still largely passed down orally, an oral tradition that needs to be seen and experienced in the flesh. Where you can feel the music from the speakers, hear the breath of the dancers, hear the sound of their skin on the floor, and see the beads of sweat that even HD can't fully capture the way it really is.
So, now I tweet. At least I aspire to tweet. And if you would like to follow then I will know that all this Social Networking madness does have a purpose and will pay off in the end when Megill & Company gets to thank its audience with a bow.
twitter: BethMegill
MeCo on YouTube
But, I have to believe that this work will be worth it. My dance company Megill & Company takes my breath away. The dancers are unbelievably beautiful, passionate, easy to work with, funny. . . the list goes on. Bottom line is they need to be seen. They deserve to be seen and enjoyed. The more I see what is happening in the dance world the more I see that we fill a particular niche. Dance theater. Not quite Bill T. Jones. But in concept not too far. We enjoy being playful, making commentary, challenging the line between entertainment and art but working on the other end of the spectrum from the entertainment industry. We tell stories through movement (and sometimes words). Those who have seen us seem to like us. At least that is what I have heard so far.
So, I need to make the effort. Twitter here I am. Subject to your madness and hash tags (also known as a pound sign by the way for the rest of us who are not up to date on the twitter lingo). I want to get the word out, because the work is being made; it is coming together, and before we know it, we will need an audience. Someone to listen to our stories and see us give away our hearts in movement.
Dance, like ensemble music, is a communal phenomenon. It was born out of people coming together and sharing; it thrives under those conditions. Dancing can't be written down in a journal or book to be discovered posthumously. A choreographer can't lock herself up in her room to make dance after dance without any one knowing. Such dances would be lost to the world. Even a video of the dance would be a shadow of its real effect and power.
Dance is a living art and a performance art that is still largely passed down orally, an oral tradition that needs to be seen and experienced in the flesh. Where you can feel the music from the speakers, hear the breath of the dancers, hear the sound of their skin on the floor, and see the beads of sweat that even HD can't fully capture the way it really is.
So, now I tweet. At least I aspire to tweet. And if you would like to follow then I will know that all this Social Networking madness does have a purpose and will pay off in the end when Megill & Company gets to thank its audience with a bow.
twitter: BethMegill
MeCo on YouTube
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)