The second part of this intensive dealt with personal development and reaching your goals. We had several discussions throughout the week, both in small groups and as an entire 40-person class. If I had to choose one message to pass on from all that we talked about, it would be the one that Darren shared with us at the end. He quoted author Jim Collins, who said that in order to go from good to great, you should reflect on these three questions:
1) What are you passionate about?
2) At what can you be the best in the world?
3) What drives your economic engine?
Darren is the owner of Yoga Oasis and the "poster boy" of the yoga world, a phrase that magazines and newspapers love to use. He co-created a poster that features him doing every pose in the Anusara syllabus. He's also put out a book of yoga poses and he's co-developed a way to practice yoga efficiently in one hour: "YogaHour." He's an internationally recognized teacher who is known for his innovation to the practice. At the end of the intensive, this man gave his thoughts on what it meant to be "the best in the world."
"Honestly, you probably cannot be the best in the world at something. There's always going to be someone better than you. But to be the best in the world doesn't mean you have to be the best - it might mean you have the right strategy. I don't feel like I'm the guy who is best fit for the projects I'm inspired to do. The best person, though, may not have the resources or the desire to do these projects. So if he doesn't do them, who will? It's either 'the best'... or no one. And that's tough competition. It's hard to step into that position. But that may be the seed you need to do what you want to do."
I was surprised to hear him admit his feelings about his abilities. This superstar yoga teacher doesn't think he's the best person to be doing what he's doing. But he's doing it anyway. This is something I think about often, especially as a dancer and aspiring dance coach. I'm 24 and I'm decades behind in experience that many of the national and world-class dancers and coaches have. How could I possibly stand out amongst them? I don't have the resources they had when they began (time, money, connections)...
It doesn't really matter, though. It's something I want to do and I intend to do it...even if I'm not I'm the best or most knowledgeable or most skilled person for the job. By doing it in the first place my way, though, maybe I will be.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Yoga Intensive Part 1: Asana
I completed my first-ever yoga intensive last week. "Intense" is a good word for it. It was a week-long workshop in pushing your body to your limits while uncovering who you were and what you wanted from life. Asana is the physical aspect of yoga, so let's start with the pushing physical limits part.
We had three teachers: Amy, Christina, and Darren. Each of them use mixed forms of yogic branches in their practice, but the main ones they incorporated into our intensive were Iyengar, Bikram, and Anusara. These words might mean something to some of you...
For those of you unfamiliar with a general Iyengar (alignment-focused) or Anusara class, what usually happens is the following:
You warm up. This takes place in the form of lunges, squat jumps, and push ups, otherwise known as Warrior I, II, III and vinyasa (standing to plank to chaturanga dandasana to upward dog/cobra to down dog). The more advanced the class, the more jumping and movement are involved: "I want one movement from tadasana (standing pose) to chaturanga dandasana (bottom of a push up)." Sometimes you'll hold this last one and hover above the ground. The length of the hold depends on how merciful the teacher is. We'll do that sequence several times. "Sticky mats" don't exist after the first 20 minutes of vinyasa; they become "slippery mats" from all the sweating.
After warming up, we then fold into back bends and various twists and splits. Performing these is not all about stretching either. It takes energy to freaking reach your foot as you bend backwards, every part of you - trying breathe - wanting to yell, "I can't do it!" Also, maintaining balance on fractions of your body can take more strength and mental energy than lifting a dumbell. For instance, you could be balancing on the edge of your right foot and right hand, moving your front body forward while holding your left foot. Your left foot will then kick backward, moving you into a sideways backbend. Don't forget you're still balancing on the edge of your foot and your palm. You try to keep from toppling over and it's taking every muscle in your body to keep you from falling on the person next to you.
The instructors were great people, but I admit that after the first two days, fear for what they were going to put me through crept into my body. I named Amy the "cheerleader" of the group, because she had the most cheerful, cute voice. Christina was the "teacher:" she had academic approach to poses and challenged you to do what you didn't want to do (suggesting pros and cons). Darren was the "coach." He's a man of few words and has a calm voice. When he said, "Do XYZ," you did it. No protesting (unless you would hurt yourself). They were all supportive, but while we practiced, I didn't always believe their positivity. For instance, every time we were about to do a difficult pose, Christina would say, "It'll be awesome." "Awesome" became my short-hand word for, "Prepare for total domination. You're going to cry."
I did this type of routine - warm-up then crazy bends - for 3 hours a day, five days in a row. Think of it as going to the gym for a mixed cardio and strength training class for three hours a day. Five days in a row. In the afternoon, they gave us a few hours of restorative and what I call "stretching" yoga...no cardio or strength poses. I was never a fan of restorative yoga until after my first day. Now I think it's one of the best things in the world (that's for you, Tim!).
We had three teachers: Amy, Christina, and Darren. Each of them use mixed forms of yogic branches in their practice, but the main ones they incorporated into our intensive were Iyengar, Bikram, and Anusara. These words might mean something to some of you...
For those of you unfamiliar with a general Iyengar (alignment-focused) or Anusara class, what usually happens is the following:
You warm up. This takes place in the form of lunges, squat jumps, and push ups, otherwise known as Warrior I, II, III and vinyasa (standing to plank to chaturanga dandasana to upward dog/cobra to down dog). The more advanced the class, the more jumping and movement are involved: "I want one movement from tadasana (standing pose) to chaturanga dandasana (bottom of a push up)." Sometimes you'll hold this last one and hover above the ground. The length of the hold depends on how merciful the teacher is. We'll do that sequence several times. "Sticky mats" don't exist after the first 20 minutes of vinyasa; they become "slippery mats" from all the sweating.
After warming up, we then fold into back bends and various twists and splits. Performing these is not all about stretching either. It takes energy to freaking reach your foot as you bend backwards, every part of you - trying breathe - wanting to yell, "I can't do it!" Also, maintaining balance on fractions of your body can take more strength and mental energy than lifting a dumbell. For instance, you could be balancing on the edge of your right foot and right hand, moving your front body forward while holding your left foot. Your left foot will then kick backward, moving you into a sideways backbend. Don't forget you're still balancing on the edge of your foot and your palm. You try to keep from toppling over and it's taking every muscle in your body to keep you from falling on the person next to you.
The instructors were great people, but I admit that after the first two days, fear for what they were going to put me through crept into my body. I named Amy the "cheerleader" of the group, because she had the most cheerful, cute voice. Christina was the "teacher:" she had academic approach to poses and challenged you to do what you didn't want to do (suggesting pros and cons). Darren was the "coach." He's a man of few words and has a calm voice. When he said, "Do XYZ," you did it. No protesting (unless you would hurt yourself). They were all supportive, but while we practiced, I didn't always believe their positivity. For instance, every time we were about to do a difficult pose, Christina would say, "It'll be awesome." "Awesome" became my short-hand word for, "Prepare for total domination. You're going to cry."
I did this type of routine - warm-up then crazy bends - for 3 hours a day, five days in a row. Think of it as going to the gym for a mixed cardio and strength training class for three hours a day. Five days in a row. In the afternoon, they gave us a few hours of restorative and what I call "stretching" yoga...no cardio or strength poses. I was never a fan of restorative yoga until after my first day. Now I think it's one of the best things in the world (that's for you, Tim!).
Monday, June 18, 2012
The Bottom Line
Some of you know that until a few weeks ago, I was planning to move to another city. I just couldn't fit into Tucson and I didn't want to honestly. I was making plans to pack my bags, embark on a yogic journey, and head to the *Big City* under the sun.
However, given the recent events of dancing in my life, I played the "what-if" game. What would I do once I arrived in this new place? What would my underlying goal of it all be?
Honestly? I asked myself.
Yes.
To find a partner. And live happily in a large city where a Walgreens and grocery store were within walking or biking distance. Where there were more people my own age and more dancing.
But mainly to find a partner.
In this new place, I realized I would try to create the life around dancing that failed to emerge in Tucson. The location of where I ended up, however, was of little consequence. Honestly, I would travel to the ends of the earth until I found exactly what I wanted. Funny enough, I didn't have to. I found it in Tucson after all...a place I never would have expected (let's be real - a place no one would have expected).
A friend of mine has this quote posted on his website:
"Everyone has been made for a particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart." ~ Rumi
I think it's true. Personally, I have a path that I have to follow or else I'll never be satisfied. I've seen this draw in others, too, and it will continue to reincarnate itself in our lives until we happily surrender and turn in its direction. For me, it's dancing. I now have a partner, a coach, goals, and a plan. I'm going to be in Tucson for a while :).
However, given the recent events of dancing in my life, I played the "what-if" game. What would I do once I arrived in this new place? What would my underlying goal of it all be?
Honestly? I asked myself.
Yes.
To find a partner. And live happily in a large city where a Walgreens and grocery store were within walking or biking distance. Where there were more people my own age and more dancing.
But mainly to find a partner.
In this new place, I realized I would try to create the life around dancing that failed to emerge in Tucson. The location of where I ended up, however, was of little consequence. Honestly, I would travel to the ends of the earth until I found exactly what I wanted. Funny enough, I didn't have to. I found it in Tucson after all...a place I never would have expected (let's be real - a place no one would have expected).
A friend of mine has this quote posted on his website:
"Everyone has been made for a particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart." ~ Rumi
I think it's true. Personally, I have a path that I have to follow or else I'll never be satisfied. I've seen this draw in others, too, and it will continue to reincarnate itself in our lives until we happily surrender and turn in its direction. For me, it's dancing. I now have a partner, a coach, goals, and a plan. I'm going to be in Tucson for a while :).
West Coast and the Girl in the White Pants
I recently discovered that the "serious" dancers of Tucson all do West Coast Swing. Social dancing (not dancesport) is the big deal and I found some of the city's best dancers at a swing club event down the street.
I felt slightly out of place when I arrived. West coast was a little beyond my understanding. The basic looked normal, but then the advanced dancing looked like a Latin-swing-rhythm-hip hop-modern dance hybrid (what the heck?? YouTube video here). I took the beginner lesson...and proceeded to disregard most of it after I got on the floor. It wasn't a problem.
The thing about social dancing for a follow is that she really needs to "listen" to the lead's cues and then respond to them, because she has no idea what's coming. You can tell the follows who do know those cues, because the dancing between her and her partner is like water.
While there were many good dancers there that night, I was drawn to watch one follow almost every time she walked on the floor. The others performed impressive turns and dips and glided around their partners. This one though...she was different. I identified her as the Girl in the White Pants. She was tall, thin, and elegant. It took me the entire dance to figure out what it was she had that the others didn't.
To me, the "normal" west coast dancers travel and bend in several directions at once (up, down, sideways, diagonal); their energy goes out like a star. The Girl in the White Pants, though, had simple movement and didn't bend much. So why was she so eye-catching? Because her energy was focused in one direction and she moved mainly across the floor. Watching the way she travelled was the equivalent to touching fine silk...nothing about her was abrupt. When I saw her dance, I kept asking, "Where will she go next and how will she do it??" Yet my mind worked in the past with the other dancers: they'd perform a move and I'd say, "That was neat!" But she kept me in suspense. At the end of the night, I decided that I wanted to move like that, whatever it was.
I talked to someone about her later and discovered that she was relatively new to West Coast; she danced mainly ballroom.
I felt slightly out of place when I arrived. West coast was a little beyond my understanding. The basic looked normal, but then the advanced dancing looked like a Latin-swing-rhythm-hip hop-modern dance hybrid (what the heck?? YouTube video here). I took the beginner lesson...and proceeded to disregard most of it after I got on the floor. It wasn't a problem.
The thing about social dancing for a follow is that she really needs to "listen" to the lead's cues and then respond to them, because she has no idea what's coming. You can tell the follows who do know those cues, because the dancing between her and her partner is like water.
While there were many good dancers there that night, I was drawn to watch one follow almost every time she walked on the floor. The others performed impressive turns and dips and glided around their partners. This one though...she was different. I identified her as the Girl in the White Pants. She was tall, thin, and elegant. It took me the entire dance to figure out what it was she had that the others didn't.
To me, the "normal" west coast dancers travel and bend in several directions at once (up, down, sideways, diagonal); their energy goes out like a star. The Girl in the White Pants, though, had simple movement and didn't bend much. So why was she so eye-catching? Because her energy was focused in one direction and she moved mainly across the floor. Watching the way she travelled was the equivalent to touching fine silk...nothing about her was abrupt. When I saw her dance, I kept asking, "Where will she go next and how will she do it??" Yet my mind worked in the past with the other dancers: they'd perform a move and I'd say, "That was neat!" But she kept me in suspense. At the end of the night, I decided that I wanted to move like that, whatever it was.
I talked to someone about her later and discovered that she was relatively new to West Coast; she danced mainly ballroom.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Teachers: Cases for the Good and the Best
A discussion I've encountered a few times was on the quality of a teacher: do you seek out the best there is (usually far away and/or very expensive)? Or do you go to one that is less than "expert" but more easily accessible (location/cost)? I always thought that if you could get the best, you should. That is the reason I am in Tucson: I sought out the best possible dance coach I could find. Yoga, however, has presented to me a strong case against this idea.
Milo and Ellen
After attending many of his classes, I realized that one of my favorite teachers - MiLo - was not the "best." He's both the artistic director for Yoga Oasis and a hatha yoga instructor. He's been practicing yoga for 20 years, so he has quite a bit of knowledge, but he's not the studio "expert." Yet I attend his classes regularly because of the way he talks and thinks about yoga and life. I think the fact that he's an artist has a lot to do with it: I simply connect really well to the explanations and imagery he uses.
Similarly, I also like his co-teacher Ellen very much. She's relatively new to teaching, having only a few months experience so far. However, she takes an interest in me and pushes me to better myself. For instance, she'll come around and help me extend my back in a backbend or lengthen my arms in triangle pose, because she knows I can. She inspires me to keep going and continue my study of yoga.
Chris
Yet there is something to be said for receiving information from the expert. Chris, at YogaFlow has extensive experience. I don't connect with him in the same way I do Ellen and MiLo, but his knowledge on yoga clears up any ambiguity I have about faster-paced classes. He's simple and logical, and I learn a lot more from him about the details of alignment. I feel I would be missing something if I didn't attend his classes.
Conclusion
Looking at both of these teacher types, I've realized that I need them both. While it's great if you can combine the expert and the inspirational teacher into one person, that may not be possible. For this reason, having several teachers is the most beneficial situation.
Yet, I have to admit that at the end of the day - if I had to choose one kind of teacher - I would choose the inspirational/supportive one over the expert. I would stay with Ellen and MiLo over Chris, just because of the emotional connection I've established with them and their teaching. They've made me realize that an effective and good teacher doesn't have to be an "expert;" connecting with the student and investing in him or her is what matters. Inspirational teachers can lead me to further my research (which they have), but the "expert" one won't necessarily lead me to inspiration. Inspiration brings fulfillment and, in my opinion, having someone believe in you is worth more than the best knowledge.
Milo and Ellen
After attending many of his classes, I realized that one of my favorite teachers - MiLo - was not the "best." He's both the artistic director for Yoga Oasis and a hatha yoga instructor. He's been practicing yoga for 20 years, so he has quite a bit of knowledge, but he's not the studio "expert." Yet I attend his classes regularly because of the way he talks and thinks about yoga and life. I think the fact that he's an artist has a lot to do with it: I simply connect really well to the explanations and imagery he uses.
Similarly, I also like his co-teacher Ellen very much. She's relatively new to teaching, having only a few months experience so far. However, she takes an interest in me and pushes me to better myself. For instance, she'll come around and help me extend my back in a backbend or lengthen my arms in triangle pose, because she knows I can. She inspires me to keep going and continue my study of yoga.
Chris
Yet there is something to be said for receiving information from the expert. Chris, at YogaFlow has extensive experience. I don't connect with him in the same way I do Ellen and MiLo, but his knowledge on yoga clears up any ambiguity I have about faster-paced classes. He's simple and logical, and I learn a lot more from him about the details of alignment. I feel I would be missing something if I didn't attend his classes.
Conclusion
Looking at both of these teacher types, I've realized that I need them both. While it's great if you can combine the expert and the inspirational teacher into one person, that may not be possible. For this reason, having several teachers is the most beneficial situation.
Yet, I have to admit that at the end of the day - if I had to choose one kind of teacher - I would choose the inspirational/supportive one over the expert. I would stay with Ellen and MiLo over Chris, just because of the emotional connection I've established with them and their teaching. They've made me realize that an effective and good teacher doesn't have to be an "expert;" connecting with the student and investing in him or her is what matters. Inspirational teachers can lead me to further my research (which they have), but the "expert" one won't necessarily lead me to inspiration. Inspiration brings fulfillment and, in my opinion, having someone believe in you is worth more than the best knowledge.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
A Life Disruption - "Awesome!"
At last week's yoga class, the teacher - Elizabeth - discussed the idea of disruption:
"It can be a new job, a death, or even having a child. A disruption is a life-changing event. It's interesting when you're with a group of yogis and they're sharing their disruptions. Someone will mention a terrible thing that happened to them, and you'll get the occasional yogi who says, 'Awesome!' Of course, everyone wonders, 'Why would they say that?!' But when you have a disruption in your life, that person knows it's a chance for you to grow...and let go of the previous lifestyle you were hanging on to."
I thought about that and my life with dancing in Wisconsin. I made dancing the focus of my life, putting it above almost everything else...including my own personal well-being. Furthermore, while I didn't practice consistently after I left team, I still held onto the mentality of dancing being the only thing that mattered. It wasn't until I came to Tucson and experienced several disruptions at once (geographically, socially, economically, mentally, physically) that I was forced to put dancing aside, evaluate my life, and take a deep look at who I - Amy Jennings - truly was. Without dancing. I don't think I need to tell all of you about the difficult process I went through, because many of you were reading about it right along with me.
Anyway, that occasional "Awesome!" yogi is right - disruption is a chance to grow. "When you encounter a disruption, it will bring you closer to the truth about yourself," Elizabeth finished, and I couldn't agree more. A disruption causes us to face ourselves and maybe realize that something we valued and depended on in the past now hinders us. We then get to break away from the old and see how we "learn to fly" in a time of difficulty and change. A side of us or a talent that we never took time to develop might emerge, like knitting or teaching. Or maybe a loss in one part of our lives will give us the time to serve someone or something else. We might never have learned these things if we didn't experience a break in our comfortable lives. I know I can say that my non-competing/Tucson-living disruption period let me grow in several directions, such as:
*meeting and learning from people from several walks of life
*exploring digital media (photography and video)
*studying yoga
*learning to be healthy and take care of myself (an on-going process)
*hanging out with middle school students while photographing their parks and rec activities
*working in a sushi restaurant
*creating a blog about living in Arizona and venturing out on your own
*learning to fix up a bike
*trying argentine tango and lindy hop
*making friends
*learning about building and breaking relationships (another on-going process)
Since I've let go of dancing - and a hindering mind-set I clung to - I've learned so much about life and myself. Now a door has opened for ballroom again, and after going through all kinds of self re-evaluation and trying new things, I'm ready to step through it with a healthier mindset -- something I wasn't ready for a few months ago. If you're going through a disruption right now, I can empathize with you on the difficult experience. Take heart, though, when I say, "Awesome!"...because it's what you will be when you arrive on the other side :).
"It can be a new job, a death, or even having a child. A disruption is a life-changing event. It's interesting when you're with a group of yogis and they're sharing their disruptions. Someone will mention a terrible thing that happened to them, and you'll get the occasional yogi who says, 'Awesome!' Of course, everyone wonders, 'Why would they say that?!' But when you have a disruption in your life, that person knows it's a chance for you to grow...and let go of the previous lifestyle you were hanging on to."
I thought about that and my life with dancing in Wisconsin. I made dancing the focus of my life, putting it above almost everything else...including my own personal well-being. Furthermore, while I didn't practice consistently after I left team, I still held onto the mentality of dancing being the only thing that mattered. It wasn't until I came to Tucson and experienced several disruptions at once (geographically, socially, economically, mentally, physically) that I was forced to put dancing aside, evaluate my life, and take a deep look at who I - Amy Jennings - truly was. Without dancing. I don't think I need to tell all of you about the difficult process I went through, because many of you were reading about it right along with me.
Anyway, that occasional "Awesome!" yogi is right - disruption is a chance to grow. "When you encounter a disruption, it will bring you closer to the truth about yourself," Elizabeth finished, and I couldn't agree more. A disruption causes us to face ourselves and maybe realize that something we valued and depended on in the past now hinders us. We then get to break away from the old and see how we "learn to fly" in a time of difficulty and change. A side of us or a talent that we never took time to develop might emerge, like knitting or teaching. Or maybe a loss in one part of our lives will give us the time to serve someone or something else. We might never have learned these things if we didn't experience a break in our comfortable lives. I know I can say that my non-competing/Tucson-living disruption period let me grow in several directions, such as:
*meeting and learning from people from several walks of life
*exploring digital media (photography and video)
*studying yoga
*learning to be healthy and take care of myself (an on-going process)
*hanging out with middle school students while photographing their parks and rec activities
*working in a sushi restaurant
*creating a blog about living in Arizona and venturing out on your own
*learning to fix up a bike
*trying argentine tango and lindy hop
*making friends
*learning about building and breaking relationships (another on-going process)
Since I've let go of dancing - and a hindering mind-set I clung to - I've learned so much about life and myself. Now a door has opened for ballroom again, and after going through all kinds of self re-evaluation and trying new things, I'm ready to step through it with a healthier mindset -- something I wasn't ready for a few months ago. If you're going through a disruption right now, I can empathize with you on the difficult experience. Take heart, though, when I say, "Awesome!"...because it's what you will be when you arrive on the other side :).
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Inspiration to Take A Risk
I read this a few days ago. It's written by a friend of a friend; the writer's name is Emily. It's very powerful and I think it deserves some of my blog space, because it influenced me so much. I encourage you to bookmark it and pull it out when you're thinking about being safe or trying something new: http://magikinthemystery.tumblr.com/post/23999302678
Crazy Things Can Happen Sometimes
I emailed my dance teacher Maja two
weeks ago, essentially telling her that I was setting ballroom dancing aside for right
now. I explained that I couldn’t go back to working a draining, full-time job like I used to in order to compete. While I didn’t say this next part, the truth was that I couldn’t pursue
standard dancing by myself. I needed at least one other person to do it with me
– a partner. Remember the post about community? I needed ballroom people in my life in order to pursue it. The email to Maja took me a month to write. I was sad to send it, but it
needed to be done. I mean, who was I kidding? I hadn’t practiced any standard
for months and I needed some closure on the whole dancing thing.
He gave me a ride home and before I left the car he asked,
Then – exactly 24 hours later to the minute – I received an email from
DancePartner.com. Someone had sent me a message asking if I would be interested
in practicing sometime.
I. was. shocked. Then I was ecstatic! Months
ago, Maja helped me make a list of my ideal dance partner characteristics.
While this person – Shey - didn’t have all the characteristics I listed, he had
the important ones. He was a local and newer professional in Tucson who had no
experience in standard but really wanted
to learn it. I liked his enthusiasm and thought, “This could be it!” But I
remembered I didn’t want to go back to a 40-hour job and I had already made a
plan to become a yoga teacher. I wanted to just pick something and stay with it
for once. I also wanted to only make enough to live on and be happy with that. I decided to email him and say, “Thanks, but no thanks. Dancing is
done for me.”
But then he sent me another message,
saying he really hoped we could meet up and practice sometime. His energy for
dancing standard was heartbreaking, because I no longer had what he had.
However, after thinking it over and having three people tell me I should at
least meet him, I emailed him back saying we could practice. I made sure to say
that I hadn’t practiced in months and I was planning to become a yoga
teacher…basically, “Don’t get your hopes up.” He was still interested, and we made
plans to meet up the coming Saturday.
Our practice/meeting turned out really
well. We danced a little bit and I was happy to know I could still move well across the floor – yay! As far as competing together, we both recognized
that it probably wouldn’t work, because he was a bit too short for me when I
was in heels. However, I don’t think either of us had too much interest in
competing at the moment. We watched some videos on standard and spent some time
learning and practicing the steps – lead and follow parts. We stopped after two
hours, though, and started talking dance philosophy and approach. We quickly
discovered we were on the exact same page.
Our conversation took many turns, from
body mechanics in dancing to body mechanics in weight lifting and yoga. Then it we went into our “normal” lives (where we
worked) and talked about our life goals and what we were doing in Tucson. Talking to Shey was
surprisingly easy. We achieved a familiarity with each other in a couple hours
that you normally wouldn’t see right away. I liked the way he thought about
things and he spoke with a sense of security and confidence in what he was
saying…something I have yet to master. He wants to be a dance coach and I can
see him being a good one– this generation’s Bill Irvine (a short, but great ballroom master) :).
While we agreed to meet next weekend, I
was still unsure if this was a direction in which I wanted to go. I still didn’t have a
drive like his.
He gave me a ride home and before I left the car he asked,
“What do you love?” I
paused, frustrated/tired. I've been asking myself that for the past year.
“I don’t know. I’ve said my normal
answer so many times I think it might be mechanical.”
“What do you answer normally?”
“Dancing. But I like writing - I do that every day. I have to...otherwise I can't function. I like teaching, too. And learning about the body.”
“What makes that answer mechanical?” Thinking about dancing and my on/off relationship with it, I answered,“Is it really ‘love’ if don’t do it
all the time? …What does it even mean to 'love something?'”
I was home just then, so we never
answered the question. A question for the future, I suppose, for the future.
Swing Out at the Dance Loft
Swing has been on my mind lately and I've been wondering about Lindy Hop. I took a few lessons during my freshman year of college, but I didn't stay with it. After doing ballroom, I thought it looked messy: arms and legs flailing, bodies flying around uncontrolled...who called this dancing again? Yet, after wading through youtube, I found an adorable video in which Lindy actually looked very clean cut and appealing: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsYYHvaMIGA.
The lady is the only one I've ever seen in lindy who attempts to make her hands and feet look pretty. Anyway, I discovered a lindy hop lesson and dance that took place Friday night and I decided to take a shorter/closer yoga class so I could go to it.
The Venue
The Dance Loft is located in the warehouse district of Tucson, about seven blocks south of the hostel, and sure enough it was in a warehouse. The space was no Fred Astaire ballroom; there was nothing over-the-top showy about it. In fact, it almost felt like the owners intended to hide the Dance Loft...like only the serious and savvy knew where to find it. Inside, though, the space looked like a studio you'd find in Brooklyn, New York. It was small with the essentials (floor, mirrors, ballet barre), a couch and folding chairs in the corner, and artwork on the walls.
Lesson
During the lesson, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. You were supposed to drag/shuffle your feet and lurch around. It will get better, I told myself, it will get better. And it did. By the end of the hour, we were doing swing outs and getting into more advanced (advanced beginner) technique. I was ready to start dancing and try some styling I had seen.
Lindy Hopping!
I thought I would get sick of listening to swing music all night, but it wasn't so. There were so many good dancers on the floor, I had the best time dancing and watching. I don't remember the last time I laughed so much and had so much fun in Tucson. I admit that by the end of the night, I had forgotten a lot of what I've learned and reverted to a mixture of jive and other social dances...but that's ok! I'm excited to go back next week to learn more and improve.
Most importantly, though, I really liked the people. Most of them were my age and just...cool. I looked at them and thought, I think I've found "my people." To have dance friends again.... :-D!!!
The lady is the only one I've ever seen in lindy who attempts to make her hands and feet look pretty. Anyway, I discovered a lindy hop lesson and dance that took place Friday night and I decided to take a shorter/closer yoga class so I could go to it.
The Venue
The Dance Loft is located in the warehouse district of Tucson, about seven blocks south of the hostel, and sure enough it was in a warehouse. The space was no Fred Astaire ballroom; there was nothing over-the-top showy about it. In fact, it almost felt like the owners intended to hide the Dance Loft...like only the serious and savvy knew where to find it. Inside, though, the space looked like a studio you'd find in Brooklyn, New York. It was small with the essentials (floor, mirrors, ballet barre), a couch and folding chairs in the corner, and artwork on the walls.
Lesson
During the lesson, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. You were supposed to drag/shuffle your feet and lurch around. It will get better, I told myself, it will get better. And it did. By the end of the hour, we were doing swing outs and getting into more advanced (advanced beginner) technique. I was ready to start dancing and try some styling I had seen.
Lindy Hopping!
I thought I would get sick of listening to swing music all night, but it wasn't so. There were so many good dancers on the floor, I had the best time dancing and watching. I don't remember the last time I laughed so much and had so much fun in Tucson. I admit that by the end of the night, I had forgotten a lot of what I've learned and reverted to a mixture of jive and other social dances...but that's ok! I'm excited to go back next week to learn more and improve.
Most importantly, though, I really liked the people. Most of them were my age and just...cool. I looked at them and thought, I think I've found "my people." To have dance friends again.... :-D!!!
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