We met as a team again, and though there is much to do, and we will not be as ready as we would like in two weeks, we are working well together. Spirits are high, and we're having fun. This was my goal in doing the group, so whenever I get stressed about the work left, I remind myself that we are indeed winning.
Now, I'm fairly exhausted with a good bit of work to do. I gave the world a nod as Derek Zoolander last night, and danced a little more than I should have on my weak hip. Today, I feel wiped out.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thinking and Crashing
I'm thinking a lot, maybe too much. Or at least, maybe I'm disregarding the present for the sake of my thoughts which may not always be sensible. Today I was zipping across Portland traffic - something that has become too much of a habit when on my bike - and i planted my front wheel into a light rail depression. Sprawled on the asphalt, and in the subsequent moments sitting on a wall, I realized that I'm not paying attention. My whole being is going into creating my reality into the thing that I most want, and I'm losing myself in that. I'm forgetting the obvious.
I had a session of body work with my friend Laura who is studying Aston Patterning. That was a good moment to sit and think about myself for a little while. I am not giving my mind the time it needs to recharge - the same thing I was doing to my body a few months ago. SO for the rest of the evening, I took some time to sit in a hot spa with a friend. Later I took a little bike ride meditating on many mantras or affirmations. I'm reading a book called Modern Day Miracles (i don't like the word miracle, but I'll get into it later.) It is essentially filled with testimonies of people who have been helped by the work of Louise Hay, changing their mental states to achieve health or whatever else they wanted.
So I went bike riding, and yes, I fear that my friends will think I've gone hippie (Kelly.), but I spent a long time repeating things like: I love myself. I love my smile. I am a magnet of wealth. I am open to change and movement. I love feeling the movement of my body. And my favorite: I release the need to hold tension in my body. It's fascinating to watch yourself be unable to say certain things. At first you tell yourself, I don't feel like saying that. Then maybe you make yourself, but the words won't come out. Then the words come out, but your voice wavers. Then you ask yourself what's making it waver. Then you take that thought and plaster the nearest building with it, watching it ooze down, as you keep riding down the street. And finally you say the thought again. And finally, I can say it.
I had a session of body work with my friend Laura who is studying Aston Patterning. That was a good moment to sit and think about myself for a little while. I am not giving my mind the time it needs to recharge - the same thing I was doing to my body a few months ago. SO for the rest of the evening, I took some time to sit in a hot spa with a friend. Later I took a little bike ride meditating on many mantras or affirmations. I'm reading a book called Modern Day Miracles (i don't like the word miracle, but I'll get into it later.) It is essentially filled with testimonies of people who have been helped by the work of Louise Hay, changing their mental states to achieve health or whatever else they wanted.
So I went bike riding, and yes, I fear that my friends will think I've gone hippie (Kelly.), but I spent a long time repeating things like: I love myself. I love my smile. I am a magnet of wealth. I am open to change and movement. I love feeling the movement of my body. And my favorite: I release the need to hold tension in my body. It's fascinating to watch yourself be unable to say certain things. At first you tell yourself, I don't feel like saying that. Then maybe you make yourself, but the words won't come out. Then the words come out, but your voice wavers. Then you ask yourself what's making it waver. Then you take that thought and plaster the nearest building with it, watching it ooze down, as you keep riding down the street. And finally you say the thought again. And finally, I can say it.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Expect miracles.
How does one devote their life to dance? It's a difficult question for many of us, as there exists no infrastructure dedicated to partner dancing. Many people choose their careers or paths, and there are set roads to follow. The differences mostly have to do with how hard you work and what your final intentions are. I think it's the same for me, but I lie in uncharted territory. There are very few partner dancers making a good living from their passion. I've come to realize that being a teacher of partner dance is not what I want to do right now. Put simply, it's a lot of work. It's a lot of sweat and not much payback. I'm hoping to create something on a large scale, so I'll just go ahead and lay out what I'm planning to do.
I don't really want to teach classes and workshops. I think that takes far more love than I have in me right now. Well, that is, to do it well. So that leaves me looking for a "muse" as Timothy Ferriss would call it, or actually a job that returns quite a bit of money and freedom to continue to dance. I'm not going to get into my businesses yet. Soon. But not yet.
It's better to start here, because this is where I started. First I created the idea of the end goal.
My goal is to have a business that is bringing in a fair amount of money. I intend to continue teaching private lessons in Portland as long as I'm here, and my rate will remain at a minimum of $20/ hour. This will allow anyone who wants to study the means to do so. I intend for my job to cover my living expenses, training expenses, and a few other things. After that I will take 20% of my post-tax income and dedicate it to a dance fund. This fund may eventually turn into a non-profit, and the intention is to promote dance in the Portland area. This means putting on workshops, dances, performances - anything that will promote dance - and using that money as a safety net. This way I will be able to put on the workshops that I want to without worrying about ultimate profit or loss. I will also be using these opportunities to study with all the teachers I bring to the area. This way I continue to build my skill.
After a few years in Portland, during which time I'll be training and working on my fundamentals of dance, I'll be ready to travel and study seriously. This means that the business will need to run itself, or I will sell my share of it. I will probably keep the dance fund going with a board or something. Essentially, it will be my time to travel the world retracing the African diaspora. Latin America, Europe, the Mississippi Delta, Africa. I plan to go on a world tour dancing until I'm ready to stop.
My family loves to ask me if I'm still planning to go to law school. My best guess is that I'll go around this time (let's guess I'm late 30s- 40 now). I want to go to Yale, so I'm already studying languages and thinking of things that will look good on an application.
After that, I think I'll be ready to really go after my goals. I was talking to Steve one day, and he asked me what I would do if I could do anything. I avoided responding, saying, "No, it's too big." Steve responded, "What if you were put on Earth to accomplish it?" I know I blogged about this already, but that floored me. In an instant, my sight cleared and I latched onto the idea. I want to create a dance center - the world's biggest and greatest. The model for this center will be based on many of the places I've been. It will have stages, studios, living quarters, kitchens, recreational space. It will be more like a University than anything else. It will have amazing food and quiet spaces like you would find in a meditation center. It will have quads and dorms like a University. It will offer students the ability to come and stay in exchange for work study. And it will attract the best talent in the world.
In an age of increased globalization and transfer of wealth - when America is bound to become relatively poorer - it will have an international focus - inciting the true disciples of dance to come study. It will become a place like Taize - behemoth - bigger and more powerful than anyone could have imagined.
I don't really want to teach classes and workshops. I think that takes far more love than I have in me right now. Well, that is, to do it well. So that leaves me looking for a "muse" as Timothy Ferriss would call it, or actually a job that returns quite a bit of money and freedom to continue to dance. I'm not going to get into my businesses yet. Soon. But not yet.
It's better to start here, because this is where I started. First I created the idea of the end goal.
My goal is to have a business that is bringing in a fair amount of money. I intend to continue teaching private lessons in Portland as long as I'm here, and my rate will remain at a minimum of $20/ hour. This will allow anyone who wants to study the means to do so. I intend for my job to cover my living expenses, training expenses, and a few other things. After that I will take 20% of my post-tax income and dedicate it to a dance fund. This fund may eventually turn into a non-profit, and the intention is to promote dance in the Portland area. This means putting on workshops, dances, performances - anything that will promote dance - and using that money as a safety net. This way I will be able to put on the workshops that I want to without worrying about ultimate profit or loss. I will also be using these opportunities to study with all the teachers I bring to the area. This way I continue to build my skill.
After a few years in Portland, during which time I'll be training and working on my fundamentals of dance, I'll be ready to travel and study seriously. This means that the business will need to run itself, or I will sell my share of it. I will probably keep the dance fund going with a board or something. Essentially, it will be my time to travel the world retracing the African diaspora. Latin America, Europe, the Mississippi Delta, Africa. I plan to go on a world tour dancing until I'm ready to stop.
My family loves to ask me if I'm still planning to go to law school. My best guess is that I'll go around this time (let's guess I'm late 30s- 40 now). I want to go to Yale, so I'm already studying languages and thinking of things that will look good on an application.
After that, I think I'll be ready to really go after my goals. I was talking to Steve one day, and he asked me what I would do if I could do anything. I avoided responding, saying, "No, it's too big." Steve responded, "What if you were put on Earth to accomplish it?" I know I blogged about this already, but that floored me. In an instant, my sight cleared and I latched onto the idea. I want to create a dance center - the world's biggest and greatest. The model for this center will be based on many of the places I've been. It will have stages, studios, living quarters, kitchens, recreational space. It will be more like a University than anything else. It will have amazing food and quiet spaces like you would find in a meditation center. It will have quads and dorms like a University. It will offer students the ability to come and stay in exchange for work study. And it will attract the best talent in the world.
In an age of increased globalization and transfer of wealth - when America is bound to become relatively poorer - it will have an international focus - inciting the true disciples of dance to come study. It will become a place like Taize - behemoth - bigger and more powerful than anyone could have imagined.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Stoke the Fire, and it can only grow.
I went to Etienne's class on Friday. In the warmups, he had us stretching our arms a lot. At one point we had our arms stretched wide as we balanced on one leg, with our bodies perpendicular to our standing leg. He kept saying, "Breathe, breathe, breathe," as though it were the most important thing for us to hear. He smiled as we struggled, and gave us little pieces of encouragement or advice. It reminded me of an old workout class I used to attend at St. John's. The Iron Bookworm workout run by Mr. Venkatesh. It was essentially 20-30 people getting pushed harder than anyone could imagine to do pushups, sit-ups, handstands, squats, etc. It was run by Mr. Venkatesh, a faculty member, who had the awe-inspiring ability to do all the exercises harder, faster, and longer than any of us. He always encouraged us with a smile and a quiet, "Don't give up." He had charisma that made you just want to follow him.
Etienne does not have quite the same presence. He is so soft-spoken one can hardly understand him, but he always presents a smile and a clear demonstration of the movement. I suppose it's his smile that makes everyone follow him. Many times in class, the students will be chatting away as he explains something. I imagine only a handful of us are trying to really hear him, but when the dance begins, everyone instantly falls into line. To me, this is the sign of real work being done. Though chatting may ring through the class, no one misses the opportunity to follow Etienne. I've found myself drooping in daily life. It's hard to stand up, as I watch my finances drain. It makes one feel inadequate. But whenever I am in his class, I stand perfectly upright. I feel my whole body and am able to dance well. It is inspiring in the purest sense - it is a room full of love.
At one point in the class, he stopped everyone and said that we were letting our energy drop. He said, "When I dance I don't get tired. I might moan a little, but once the music comes on, the energy only builds on itself. If you add more wood to the fire, it doesn't get smaller."
I am amazed that there are only ever 1 or 2 men in his classes. In all African classes, I've been in, there have been more women than men, but Etienne presents such a clear example of masculine movement, I cannot understand where all the other guys are. Does no one see what I see?
Etienne does not have quite the same presence. He is so soft-spoken one can hardly understand him, but he always presents a smile and a clear demonstration of the movement. I suppose it's his smile that makes everyone follow him. Many times in class, the students will be chatting away as he explains something. I imagine only a handful of us are trying to really hear him, but when the dance begins, everyone instantly falls into line. To me, this is the sign of real work being done. Though chatting may ring through the class, no one misses the opportunity to follow Etienne. I've found myself drooping in daily life. It's hard to stand up, as I watch my finances drain. It makes one feel inadequate. But whenever I am in his class, I stand perfectly upright. I feel my whole body and am able to dance well. It is inspiring in the purest sense - it is a room full of love.
At one point in the class, he stopped everyone and said that we were letting our energy drop. He said, "When I dance I don't get tired. I might moan a little, but once the music comes on, the energy only builds on itself. If you add more wood to the fire, it doesn't get smaller."
I am amazed that there are only ever 1 or 2 men in his classes. In all African classes, I've been in, there have been more women than men, but Etienne presents such a clear example of masculine movement, I cannot understand where all the other guys are. Does no one see what I see?
Thursday, October 21, 2010
What is a foodie?
"Although the two terms are sometimes used interchangeably, foodies differ from gourmets in that gourmets are epicures of refined taste who may or may not be professionals in the food industry, whereas foodies are amateurs who simply love food for consumption, study, preparation, and news.[1] Gourmets simply want to eat the best food, whereas foodies want to learn everything about food, both the best and the ordinary, and about the science, industry, and personalities surrounding food."
Maybe I am a "foodie," but I don't like the word. I don't often eat at restaurants. I don't prepare fancy dishes. The majority of what I eat is what anyone in the history of humanity would eat. Some of my cooking varies, because I can get certain prepared products, but I rarely use them. (Nutella is my latest exception.) I cook almost everything from whole foods. And all I normally use is salt and some vinegar. I did vary from this recently - making a ratatouille with some cumin and nutmeg. But really, what does it say about how far we've come if someone who eats extremely conservatively (by historical standards) needs a label? Most of the time "foodie" gets associated with someone who is checking out all the new trends in restaurants, etc. Though this used to be me, I am very far from that now. I cook for health, hunger, and particular cravings.
I will maintain from direct experience that concern about what you eat is the first step towards health. That means to "love food for consumption, study, preparation, and news." So really, what is a foodie? The word in and of itself implies agreement with Michael Pollan's definition of "food," as that which your great-grandmother would recognize as food. That is to say, anything that remains unprocessed. Maybe a "foodie" is just someone who understands that the craft of cooking infuses food with something greater than itself, and when we relegate that task to the unsupervised work of machines, we are left with less than we started with. (Not to mention that we're all getting heart disease and cancer.)
I am healthier than I've ever been, and I'm getting healthier. It makes me realize that learning HOW to eat has been the first great test on my path. It's rather humbling to think that my path will necessarily contain many more unforeseen stages. This process of learning to dance seems long.
Oh, and I'm making pumpkin pie from scratch.
Maybe I am a "foodie," but I don't like the word. I don't often eat at restaurants. I don't prepare fancy dishes. The majority of what I eat is what anyone in the history of humanity would eat. Some of my cooking varies, because I can get certain prepared products, but I rarely use them. (Nutella is my latest exception.) I cook almost everything from whole foods. And all I normally use is salt and some vinegar. I did vary from this recently - making a ratatouille with some cumin and nutmeg. But really, what does it say about how far we've come if someone who eats extremely conservatively (by historical standards) needs a label? Most of the time "foodie" gets associated with someone who is checking out all the new trends in restaurants, etc. Though this used to be me, I am very far from that now. I cook for health, hunger, and particular cravings.
I will maintain from direct experience that concern about what you eat is the first step towards health. That means to "love food for consumption, study, preparation, and news." So really, what is a foodie? The word in and of itself implies agreement with Michael Pollan's definition of "food," as that which your great-grandmother would recognize as food. That is to say, anything that remains unprocessed. Maybe a "foodie" is just someone who understands that the craft of cooking infuses food with something greater than itself, and when we relegate that task to the unsupervised work of machines, we are left with less than we started with. (Not to mention that we're all getting heart disease and cancer.)
I am healthier than I've ever been, and I'm getting healthier. It makes me realize that learning HOW to eat has been the first great test on my path. It's rather humbling to think that my path will necessarily contain many more unforeseen stages. This process of learning to dance seems long.
Oh, and I'm making pumpkin pie from scratch.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
The Fall Market
Today I was downtown spying. Rather, you might say I was doing research, but I think I may have located my two spots for my businesses. Yes, plural. I'll fill in details later, and you will understand why I haven't been blogging.
I saw a girl ride a bike past me with kale sprouting out the top. As I had looked like that on Monday, I knew what it meant. The farmer's market.. of course, the Wednesday market I always forget about. I stopped by, took a look, and realized that I would need more money. After a quick run by Bank of America, I was funded and ready. Somehow every time I've gone to a farmer's market this fall, I leave with pounds and pounds of produce. Disregarding the impossible logistics of fitting pounds of produce into my tiny satchel, today was no different. It is approaching the end of the really good season for chanterelles. You will be able to obtain them until December, but as the rain comes, you end up paying for water weight. Now they are beautiful, dry, and orange. I bought 6 pounds at just under $7/ lb. Not bad. They will get frozen in small batches alongside my green chiles. I also got this crazy mushroom that could pass for an albino hamster. I don't remember what it's called, or I'd post a link, but they were $15/ lb.
I also left with a new variety of tomato, some Italian heirloom sweet peppers, and a few onions (currently simmering). I bought a purple, jumbo Italian artichoke which is begging to be eaten soon. 5 pounds of dry pinto beans (in order to can refried beans for the winter), and a dozen multi-colored eggs. Nothing makes me happier. OH i almost forgot - a pie pumpkin (you can imagine the purpose). I've been going to a market every other day, which is very worthwhile because i've stocked up on plenty of food to can and freeze. The markets will mostly be ending at the end of the month, but the main ones will go to until December. That surplus of late summer food (who still wants to eat a raw tomato?) means CHEAP produce. And trust me, this produce makes Whole Foods look sad. My cellar is getting piled high.
I've been riding my bike a lot, which is getting me in shape to sell my car. Yes, I talked about it when I arrived in Portland, and it's finally going to happen. The fact of the matter is that I can hardly pay my bills anymore, and a minimum wage job in a restaurant seems terrible. So now, I'm going to get a little capital to fund my projects and living expenses.
I went on a conscientious bike ride the other night. I was leaving a friend's house and decided on a whim to ride up Mt. Tabor (6 miles or so). I did the whole thing very slowly and in a very low gear. I focused on the spin of my legs and keeping my knees under control. By the end of the ride, I was finally locating this internal gluteal muscle I've been trying to find to support my turnout.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Sporadic, but still practicing
Sorry that my blog entries are getting more sporadic. If any of you are reading this regularly, I imagine that is not ideal.
Well, I've been practicing for ECBF. Drew and I spent the weekend melding, or whatever you might call it. We are working our body action and rhythms intensely - matching up so that we start and finish our steps at the same time. We're also drilling different turn patterns, etc and looking at old competitions to make predictions about music and our competitors. Monica is coming to the NW to visit next weekend, and we'll be in Seattle for a few days, then back to PDX. So no practice scheduled for next week, but we have the same regimen planned for the following weekend.
The team is finally coming together, which is great to see. We got everyone will probably be representing Portland in the city competition into one room. We started talking about competition concepts (which we can only speculate on) and practicing little choregraphies. The best thing about the team is that we have really started working like a team. People get excited, and there's not really a clear leader, but everyone is participating and engaged. This was my goal for the competition, so it seems to be working. We'll probably plan an exhibition at Tuesday Blues to show the community what we're up to, and work out our nerves.
As for other things, yes, business planning is time-consuming. Yes, I'm continuing.
And I now have 3 varietals of applesauce canned for the winter.
Well, I've been practicing for ECBF. Drew and I spent the weekend melding, or whatever you might call it. We are working our body action and rhythms intensely - matching up so that we start and finish our steps at the same time. We're also drilling different turn patterns, etc and looking at old competitions to make predictions about music and our competitors. Monica is coming to the NW to visit next weekend, and we'll be in Seattle for a few days, then back to PDX. So no practice scheduled for next week, but we have the same regimen planned for the following weekend.
The team is finally coming together, which is great to see. We got everyone will probably be representing Portland in the city competition into one room. We started talking about competition concepts (which we can only speculate on) and practicing little choregraphies. The best thing about the team is that we have really started working like a team. People get excited, and there's not really a clear leader, but everyone is participating and engaged. This was my goal for the competition, so it seems to be working. We'll probably plan an exhibition at Tuesday Blues to show the community what we're up to, and work out our nerves.
As for other things, yes, business planning is time-consuming. Yes, I'm continuing.
And I now have 3 varietals of applesauce canned for the winter.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
From the pages of Hill
The majority of people, if asked what they fear most, would reply, "I fear nothing." The reply would be inaccurate, because few people realize that they are bound, handicapped, whipped spiritually and physically through some form of fear. So subtle and deeply seated is the emotion of fear that one may go through life burdened with it, never recognizing its presence. Only a courageous analysis will disclose the presence of this universal enemy.
Dead Ends
I drove up to Seattle during Portland tango fest in order to choreograph with Topher and Karissa. I also went for Etienne's class on Friday night. When I arrived at the dance class (just in time from Portland), no one was there except my friend Heather who I was staying with. So we chalked it as a loss, cooked some dinner, and watched a movie. The next day I had been talking about going to a clothing sale by the brand Filson, but the logistics ended up not working. Finally by the end of the day, after working on the choreography and getting acupuncture, Topher got back from work late and decided to back out of the choreography. I understand, because his life and work are crazy right now. I'm not upset at all the happenings, but it was funny that everywhere I turned was a dead end. In the midst of it all, the rain descended upon the northwest.
What did happen this weekend, however, was that I picked up the book, Heal Your Body by Louise Hay. It's a very small book dedicated to the premise that illness is first and foremost composed of mentally hindering thoughts. The book is full of affirmations designed to help heal different symptoms in your body. Her first book was written about her experiences healing her own cancer.
The book is much like Steve's treatment that I wrote about before - it's about redefining the way you see the world. Whatever happened this weekend, it felt really good to be in rainy Seattle and thinking about these ideas. I started analyzing my own thoughts pertaining to myself, finances, dance community, attitudes, etc. Just walking around, I started to locate the root of the bad thoughts in my mind. I would use imagery to rid myself of them. I particularly like the image of throwing the issue onto something I'm passing. Sometimes it looks like a giant splatter of paint. Sometimes it looks like a Big Gulp flying out my car window. Sometimes (but I'm trying to stop that one...) it's spit. I watch the issue fly away, and then sometimes i watch it in my mind as it recedes into the background - left for someone else to clean up. It's amusing to watch all the buildings, cars, and sidewalks littered with my issues. After clearing myself out, I choose empowering thoughts and beliefs that will help me. And I meditate on them for a few moments.
Now that I think about it, everyone has told me to do this - change my mental language in order to change my experience - Louise Hay, Napoleon Hill, Tony Robbins, Steve, even O-sensei in an esoteric way. All of a sudden this weekend, I started applying what I've been reading.
What did happen this weekend, however, was that I picked up the book, Heal Your Body by Louise Hay. It's a very small book dedicated to the premise that illness is first and foremost composed of mentally hindering thoughts. The book is full of affirmations designed to help heal different symptoms in your body. Her first book was written about her experiences healing her own cancer.
The book is much like Steve's treatment that I wrote about before - it's about redefining the way you see the world. Whatever happened this weekend, it felt really good to be in rainy Seattle and thinking about these ideas. I started analyzing my own thoughts pertaining to myself, finances, dance community, attitudes, etc. Just walking around, I started to locate the root of the bad thoughts in my mind. I would use imagery to rid myself of them. I particularly like the image of throwing the issue onto something I'm passing. Sometimes it looks like a giant splatter of paint. Sometimes it looks like a Big Gulp flying out my car window. Sometimes (but I'm trying to stop that one...) it's spit. I watch the issue fly away, and then sometimes i watch it in my mind as it recedes into the background - left for someone else to clean up. It's amusing to watch all the buildings, cars, and sidewalks littered with my issues. After clearing myself out, I choose empowering thoughts and beliefs that will help me. And I meditate on them for a few moments.
Now that I think about it, everyone has told me to do this - change my mental language in order to change my experience - Louise Hay, Napoleon Hill, Tony Robbins, Steve, even O-sensei in an esoteric way. All of a sudden this weekend, I started applying what I've been reading.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Acupuncture and thinking
I had my first acupuncture session today in Seattle. I was walking around in the rain, and I came across a community acupuncture place and decided to check it out. It kind of freaked me out, and some of the needles hurt a little. But I can say that the energy in my body started to flow like crazy. I could feel it running around all over the place. They said they were treating issues distally - meaning that they would treat the lower back by way of the legs, feet, and hands. I certainly felt more relaxed and calmer after leaving. I'll probably keep trying it in Portland, where community acupuncture seems to be as common as drug stores.
It seems that more often I see people in terms of the energy they have about them. It's like I start seeing people's intentions and thoughts more clearly than their physical actions. And it occurred to me that with any sense of clarity, this is exactly what we should see. The interesting part, however, is that while it seems natural to give commentary and talk about what I think about such and such phenomenon, this actually seems to be an immature response. What does it really accomplish? It makes my ego bigger - I like to think that my ideas are important, but mostly these actions disregard what everyone else is thinking. Abraham Lincoln used to write letters to people and never send them. They were meant to clarify his own feelings about a situation, but he understood that it was never his place to change someone. He acted like this dealing with general after general who would not end the war. I am reminded of the people I have been most awed by - they are always quiet, humble, and they seem to notice everything. But they are not filled with a sense of self-importance that makes them share their thoughts all the time. They simply see and accept.
I've been writing emails and deleting them. I used to send all my emails, but now sometimes I save them and wait a day. Upon re-reading them, I try to determine if my words will have any consequence beyond satisfying my ego. I think this is a sign that I'm maturing. Maybe one day I won't even think the unhelpful thoughts.
It seems that more often I see people in terms of the energy they have about them. It's like I start seeing people's intentions and thoughts more clearly than their physical actions. And it occurred to me that with any sense of clarity, this is exactly what we should see. The interesting part, however, is that while it seems natural to give commentary and talk about what I think about such and such phenomenon, this actually seems to be an immature response. What does it really accomplish? It makes my ego bigger - I like to think that my ideas are important, but mostly these actions disregard what everyone else is thinking. Abraham Lincoln used to write letters to people and never send them. They were meant to clarify his own feelings about a situation, but he understood that it was never his place to change someone. He acted like this dealing with general after general who would not end the war. I am reminded of the people I have been most awed by - they are always quiet, humble, and they seem to notice everything. But they are not filled with a sense of self-importance that makes them share their thoughts all the time. They simply see and accept.
I've been writing emails and deleting them. I used to send all my emails, but now sometimes I save them and wait a day. Upon re-reading them, I try to determine if my words will have any consequence beyond satisfying my ego. I think this is a sign that I'm maturing. Maybe one day I won't even think the unhelpful thoughts.
Friday, October 8, 2010
the social network
It's a great movie. I just saw it for the second time. I keep doing that - seeing movies multiple times in the theater. Up In the Air, Avatar, Social Network. It seems like these movies all speak to the times, and if anything I'm connected to the times. I want to dress like the times; I want to dance like the times; I want to look at art of the times. I seem to be caught up in some sort of wheel of the world, and I only seem to be getting deeper. Would it sound pompous to say the course of my life sometimes feels inevitable? Sometimes I think think it does, but other times I feel like with awareness and connection to my surroundings, I can indeed shape my circumstances however I see fit.
As for my life and my business, I am plotting every move. I've been researching tax structures and laws, writing a business plan, doing pedestrian research, and yet... I still am aiming 20 years down the road. It's funny how all this fits together. A few weeks back I was blogging about a Nissan GTR, but now that I'm in the thick of planning the business, I'm not dying to have that steering wheel in my hands. I'm almost indifferent, but the image still sits in the back of my mind. It's like in the past weeks I did exactly what Tony Robbins suggests and found myself a desire worthy of motivation. Now, it seems, I have sublimated that desire, and forgot about it.
I keep thinking back to the car crash I was in during my sophomore year of college. A few days later, I started applying to Yale, and before I knew what had happened I was in New Haven. I told my friend Simon that it felt like I accidentally got on the express train when I wanted the local. Yale thoroughly humbled me - as I dragged my feet for two long years- but I learned to sit, and I was introduced to O-sensei. Three and a half years have passed since that car crash, and now we'll see what's really to come of it.
As for my life and my business, I am plotting every move. I've been researching tax structures and laws, writing a business plan, doing pedestrian research, and yet... I still am aiming 20 years down the road. It's funny how all this fits together. A few weeks back I was blogging about a Nissan GTR, but now that I'm in the thick of planning the business, I'm not dying to have that steering wheel in my hands. I'm almost indifferent, but the image still sits in the back of my mind. It's like in the past weeks I did exactly what Tony Robbins suggests and found myself a desire worthy of motivation. Now, it seems, I have sublimated that desire, and forgot about it.
I keep thinking back to the car crash I was in during my sophomore year of college. A few days later, I started applying to Yale, and before I knew what had happened I was in New Haven. I told my friend Simon that it felt like I accidentally got on the express train when I wanted the local. Yale thoroughly humbled me - as I dragged my feet for two long years- but I learned to sit, and I was introduced to O-sensei. Three and a half years have passed since that car crash, and now we'll see what's really to come of it.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
ECBF team and rhythm
We had an hour long meeting tonight about the ECBF team. We will represent Portland at the Seattle competitions. We laid out groundrules, and when we will have our final selection. It was only an hour, but it felt like much longer after a day in business class, a private lesson, and teaching a class with Brenda. Not to mention I was riding my bike everywhere today. But it did feel good to have things worked out, and after doing it, we went out dancing at Duff's. There was good camaraderie, and many of our barriers started to fall.
In other news, I've learned to start taking Brenda's advice that I need to learn to follow. I'm not really following on the floor, but I'm learning to follow the rhythm of more advanced dancers. Technique and rhythm are two very separate things. I'm fairly well-versed in technique, but my rhythm is often amateurish. Fortunately, I have begun to realize that many other people are well-versed in rhythm though not so far along with their technique. This has allowed me to have dances where I am actually learning from a "beginner." I don't mean in some esoteric way. I'm actually learning timing from the follows.
Brilliant.
In other news, I've learned to start taking Brenda's advice that I need to learn to follow. I'm not really following on the floor, but I'm learning to follow the rhythm of more advanced dancers. Technique and rhythm are two very separate things. I'm fairly well-versed in technique, but my rhythm is often amateurish. Fortunately, I have begun to realize that many other people are well-versed in rhythm though not so far along with their technique. This has allowed me to have dances where I am actually learning from a "beginner." I don't mean in some esoteric way. I'm actually learning timing from the follows.
Brilliant.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
FLATTOP
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGvxSZRVA3M
In LA, I went to see a dancer who my old friend Simon had recommended. His name is Flattop, and he was supposedly one of the originators of the poppin' and lockin' style of dance. He performs at Universal City Walk for cash. He is very much an entertainer: mimicking the audience, cracking all sorts of jokes. His dance is magical to watch. It's clear that 15 odd years of dancing on concrete has taken a toll on his knees and hips, but his upper body moves with a clarity and presence I have not seen in many dancers. He moves with crystal clear precision. Slow motion to sharp, distinct movements ripple through his body. When I saw Etienne perform, he did many similar movements. Etienne's technique and range of motion are superior, but Flattop lives and breathes his style of dance (This is not to say that Etienne doesn't...).
Watching him dance to really funky music makes me want to take more hip hop classes. Speaking of classes, the fall is finally starting, and I feel like I should be getting back into my dance routine. Really though, I feel busy from the prospect of getting a cart functional, my Persian class, and the many parts of planning for ECBF. I feel like I'm straying from my goals, and then I look on Facebook and see that Joe and Elena are practicing 4 hours in one session. Agh.
In LA, I went to see a dancer who my old friend Simon had recommended. His name is Flattop, and he was supposedly one of the originators of the poppin' and lockin' style of dance. He performs at Universal City Walk for cash. He is very much an entertainer: mimicking the audience, cracking all sorts of jokes. His dance is magical to watch. It's clear that 15 odd years of dancing on concrete has taken a toll on his knees and hips, but his upper body moves with a clarity and presence I have not seen in many dancers. He moves with crystal clear precision. Slow motion to sharp, distinct movements ripple through his body. When I saw Etienne perform, he did many similar movements. Etienne's technique and range of motion are superior, but Flattop lives and breathes his style of dance (This is not to say that Etienne doesn't...).
Watching him dance to really funky music makes me want to take more hip hop classes. Speaking of classes, the fall is finally starting, and I feel like I should be getting back into my dance routine. Really though, I feel busy from the prospect of getting a cart functional, my Persian class, and the many parts of planning for ECBF. I feel like I'm straying from my goals, and then I look on Facebook and see that Joe and Elena are practicing 4 hours in one session. Agh.
Reflections on the return training
It's been quite a while since I've blogged. It's not that things haven't been happening, but rather that too much has been happening. The return training happened and passed. I went to LA this past weekend, and I'm currently on the flight returning home.
I hardly know where to start, but I should talk about the return training. On Day 1, Brenda and Barry sat everyone down and essentially told us that we weren't working hard enough. It was a talk that was meant to motivate, but I didn't agree with their sentiments. I had thought that we were working very hard, and that we stayed very focused. I need to explain a little. Barry and Brenda have both spent a large majority of their lives training in dance. They will both admit that they have spent hours and hours – beyond what would be considered healthy or rational to most people – training in their art. They want to bring some of that intensity and dedication to the blues community. They want to motivate us in order to take our dancing to the next level. The difference between our two thoughts was that Brenda and Barry wanted us to be silent, focused disciples, and I am of the mindset that a little laughter and moments of release do not take away from the experience of training.
My summer was spent learning what it means to relax. In the meantime, I have further clarified my views on training. I believe that training must be undertaken with a spirit of love and happiness - a state that arises from relaxation. There can be no sense of self-immolation. In the past, I thought that if I pushed as hard as possible, I would reach my goals. This meant long hours of, essentially, self-punishment. I was completely obsessed with the idea of who or what I should be, and in viewing my training this way, I ceased loving myself. I only saw my flaws. I was consumed by my ideas of what should be, rather than being able to relax and deal with my body as it is. Monica has described the philosophy of John Wooden as that of developing love for practice in and of itself. I believe this is a healthy view of training – to find satisfaction in one's own situation.
Why do I say this? Why is it necessary to love your training? I think it's because training is not the process of shaping your technique - it's the process of shaping yourself. When I spend hours and hours disregarding what my body and mind tell me – when I lose touch with myself – somehow I lose the connection with my spirit. Dance (or anything) is not a physical experience. Any great action must originate in the spirit. We must learn to trust that part of us that is connected to something greater. Our spirit must dictate our movements, and we must love every moment. In order to take my dance where I want to take it, my spirit must be unified. I must be able to put all my joy and resolve into every movement.
The morning after the talk, I walked out of the training. I thought I could deal with everything Barry and Brenda had said, but I felt like I needed to resolve myself before continuing to train. I respectfully told them my views, and they respectfully told me theirs. I quietly came to the understanding that we have a deep philosophical schism lying between us, and I stepped outside, realizing what I needed to do. I walked down the street, read some poetry in a window, and then cast the strongest of mental resolves to no longer be drawn into their philosophy. For the first time in over three years, I parted ways with Brenda as my mentor. This was a really sad thing for me to do. It's a very strange thing to come to the realization that you don't agree with your teacher. It's much like the moment when you realize your parents are just as human as you.
I hardly know where to start, but I should talk about the return training. On Day 1, Brenda and Barry sat everyone down and essentially told us that we weren't working hard enough. It was a talk that was meant to motivate, but I didn't agree with their sentiments. I had thought that we were working very hard, and that we stayed very focused. I need to explain a little. Barry and Brenda have both spent a large majority of their lives training in dance. They will both admit that they have spent hours and hours – beyond what would be considered healthy or rational to most people – training in their art. They want to bring some of that intensity and dedication to the blues community. They want to motivate us in order to take our dancing to the next level. The difference between our two thoughts was that Brenda and Barry wanted us to be silent, focused disciples, and I am of the mindset that a little laughter and moments of release do not take away from the experience of training.
My summer was spent learning what it means to relax. In the meantime, I have further clarified my views on training. I believe that training must be undertaken with a spirit of love and happiness - a state that arises from relaxation. There can be no sense of self-immolation. In the past, I thought that if I pushed as hard as possible, I would reach my goals. This meant long hours of, essentially, self-punishment. I was completely obsessed with the idea of who or what I should be, and in viewing my training this way, I ceased loving myself. I only saw my flaws. I was consumed by my ideas of what should be, rather than being able to relax and deal with my body as it is. Monica has described the philosophy of John Wooden as that of developing love for practice in and of itself. I believe this is a healthy view of training – to find satisfaction in one's own situation.
Why do I say this? Why is it necessary to love your training? I think it's because training is not the process of shaping your technique - it's the process of shaping yourself. When I spend hours and hours disregarding what my body and mind tell me – when I lose touch with myself – somehow I lose the connection with my spirit. Dance (or anything) is not a physical experience. Any great action must originate in the spirit. We must learn to trust that part of us that is connected to something greater. Our spirit must dictate our movements, and we must love every moment. In order to take my dance where I want to take it, my spirit must be unified. I must be able to put all my joy and resolve into every movement.
The morning after the talk, I walked out of the training. I thought I could deal with everything Barry and Brenda had said, but I felt like I needed to resolve myself before continuing to train. I respectfully told them my views, and they respectfully told me theirs. I quietly came to the understanding that we have a deep philosophical schism lying between us, and I stepped outside, realizing what I needed to do. I walked down the street, read some poetry in a window, and then cast the strongest of mental resolves to no longer be drawn into their philosophy. For the first time in over three years, I parted ways with Brenda as my mentor. This was a really sad thing for me to do. It's a very strange thing to come to the realization that you don't agree with your teacher. It's much like the moment when you realize your parents are just as human as you.
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