turning out; not trying to control

So, I realized after Sunday's dance class with Mrs. Hall that I don't turn out enough.

That's not a new realization; I go through phases where I fall prey to the illusion that I do turn just perfectly, thank you very much, only to sit down on my perceived laurels and then realize, to my great dismay, that I've undone all my work because I incorrectly believed that I had "arrived." That I had learned to turn out just fine. Instead, I'd lost it all.

Silly me.

(And isn't that how it is with everything? I go about my life, thinking that I'm doing everything fairly well, and then all of a sudden, a sin of commission or omission hurts someone else or hurts me, or damages my relationship with someOne. And then, I realize, that I have again fallen prey to the illusion that I was doing everything correctly or right - only to remember that I must constantly be a student. I must intentionally be a learner. And I've got to strive to live in that state of learning, of openness, and stop closing myself and my mind).

So - with the turn-out and the dancing. Yesterday's practice was easier in the sense that I wasn't dancing for stamina or endurance, but it was very difficult in other respects. I spent about an hour at the studio before church, working on crossing. One of the other dancers there watched the middle step of my treble jig, which turns backwards for the last five bars, and she noted, "Allison, you're crossing, but you're not turning out. It goes straight at that part."

Oh NO!

So, I spent the last ten minutes of studio time pushing my un-cooperative hips to turn out more, for my legs to cross more.

Then, protein bar, liter of water, apple, and a choir practice later, I was at the gym, focused and determined to get my hips to turn-out more.

Plié squats, leg lifts, calf presses, forward & reverse lunges, two-heels-to-seat jumps, bi's/tri's/delts, hip abductor and adductor (my least favorite, for good reason).

And then, up to the studio at the gym. I walked through the motions of my treble jig, willing my hips to rotate just a few more degrees so that my heels would be just slightly more visible, my positioning just slightly more correct.

And again. And again. And again. By the time I was finished, I FELT it. My hips really felt it.

To finish the day, I started my "envisioning" work. I envisioned myself on the huge Worlds stage, envisioned the stage lights, the darkness of the audience out there, the size of the stage, the sense of one or two dancers on stage with me. And I asked myself, "How do I want to look? What expression do I want to wear? How do I want to present myself?"

I am told often to smile, and I know why. First, it's pleasant to see. Secondly, if I don't do something deliberate with my face, I wear a fearful bunny-rabbit-in-the-headlights look. However, I do not like to smile while dancing. My smile ends up looking plastered, disengaged, and, I think, goofy.

So, I worked on the same face that I have worked on with one of my students - a content, pleased, satisfied, and joyful calm expression. One that says, "I know what I'm doing. I love this dance, and I'm entirely comfortable with it." And I danced each of my dances for turn-out, crossing, and a joyful calm face.

And then collapsed onto a mat on the floor and stretched out my poor hips.

Irish dancing is such an internal battle, truly 85% mental over 15% physical. Sure, the physical training takes up 15-20 hours of my week, but it's my brain and my thoughts that either make or break that time spent working my body. If my head is in the right place, my work will be high-quality, the results will be spectacular, and I will have learned something. If my head is in the wrong place, I will be aimless or I will force things to happen. Regardless, a wrong-headedness will un-do all the work I have done, will leave me frustrated and upset, lacking motivation.

So, it really all boils down to a fight in my brain.

Which means that this blog, at least for the next three weeks, will boil down to my brain processing everything it needs to process before Worlds. Will come down to me trying to develop the right mindset, make these last days of physical practice count. Will boil down to me giving my all - 110% of my mental and physical ability.

Shwew.

Today's Tao Te Ching passage is Chapter 10 from the Stephen Mitchell translation:

Can you coax your mind from its wandering
and keep to the original oneness?
Can you let your body become
supple as a newborn child's?
Can you cleanse your inner vision
until you see nothing but the light?
Can you love people and lead them
without imposing your will?
Can you deal with the most vital matters
by letting events take their course?
Can you step back from your own mind
and thus understand all things?

Giving birth and nourishing,
having without possessing,
acting with no expectations,
leading and not trying to control:
this is the supreme virtue.

Embodying the light...

"I'm not looking for the best players, I'm looking for the right players."

- The film "Miracle"

Chapter 27, from the Tao Te Ching, translated by Stephen Mitchell

A good traveler has no fixed plans
and is not intent upon arriving.
A good artist lets his intuition
lead him wherever it wants.
A good scientist has freed himself of concepts
and keeps his mind open to what is.

Thus the Master is available to all people
and doesn't reject anyone.
He is ready to use all situations
and doesn't waste anything.
This is called embodying the light.

What is a good man but a bad man's teacher?
What is a bad man but a good man's job?
If you don't understand this, you will get lost,
however intelligent you are.
It is the great secret.

Isn't it always the case that we try to exist on our own devices, on our own cleverness, on our own egos and pomposity - until we realize that it's really all out of our hands?

If I had a dollar for each time my ego, my belief in my own abilities, my arrogance got the better of me and came back to bite me in the butt - well, I'd be a millionaire.

My ego bit me in the butt recently, hit me upside the head in the studio when I realized that I was pushing, pushing, pushing, struggling, frustrated, beating myself up because I was expecting to have arrived. I was expecting to have it all figured out. Expecting to have all the answers. And they weren't coming, because I was clinging too much. Holding on too tightly. Forcing myself to breathe, instead of just taking in the air.

And then, I opened the Tao Te Ching this morning to this very chapter, with these all-too-appropriate words:

A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving.

If I just let go, just let intuition lead me, trust my body, allow energy to flow through me, and stop trying to force a premature "arrival," stop trying to force a tight and tense victory, then things will fall into place.

I will be a good traveler. Worlds is a highlight on the journey, but it is not the fixed plan, not the place of arrival. It is simply an emboldening new learning experience along the way.

So, I will stop clinging so tightly. I will stop my painstaking inventory of my luggage (knees crossed, toes pointed, land on point there, jump higher, extend, extend, move move, focus focus), stop forcing myself to complete an impossibly long laundry list every time I dance, and I will instead let go.

I will stop trying to wring my body dry like a wet sponge - stop trying to force things out of my practice sessions. I will just let things arise out of them.

I will trust that the building blocks are there. I will trust my body. I will trust my training. I will trust my preparation.

I will embody the light.

I will not be intent upon arriving.

I will just ride the wave, and enjoy the journey.