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.
