Dancing Geek

I found a new brain squirrel today. And this one I found on my own. If I sound proud of that, it’s because I am; one of my previous brain squirrels is:

I can’t do this on my own

Having met this new brain squirrel on my own, it was a different experience. The same sense of emotional impact was there but without the instant emotional release.

I found it whilst I was practising questioning my thoughts and it turns out that I had to question the truth of what this brain squirrel was saying to me in order to find the release.

After the release

I’m noticing that once the release happens, the brain squirrel becomes a reminder, rather than a taunt. For example, when I notice the desire to run to someone else to tell me what to do, the situation may remind me of my brain squirrel “I cannot do this on my own” and this in turn helps me to release the anxiety.

Beforehand, this phrase would have just brought a sense of complete belief and thus despair at the ‘truth’ of the situation.

My newest reminder

So now I have a new phrase to trigger my thought patterns, but hopefully this brain squirrel is also now working for me. I would like you to meet him; he is called:

If people see me they will attack me.

This is a bit of a temporary name for him, because the semantics aren’t entirely clear, but for the moment you may think of him in the context of Avatar, where seeing someone doesn’t mean just having them in view but rather seeing a glimpse of who they really are.

His personal ad

This particular brain squirrel, having been questioned and now under new management, has written a Very Personal Ad:

I want to train so as to better show the real me, my heart & soul. I want to be a better dancer so that I can let more people see more of the real me, so that I can feel love.

This final gift from my brain squirrel is why this post is listed under Dancing, and not Personal mumblings. This is no mumble, and the clear intention that I have here is strong and all about dance.

There’s stuff I guess I want to share, to say to the world at large, but it’s not so easy as to just type it; like a nagging but shy little thought that wants to go play, but wants someone to hold its hand.

So this is an attempt to create a safe little blog post for some of this stuff to come out and be.

One year anniversary

One thing that I have not talked about very much in public happened a year and a day ago. I’m not surprised that it’s taken me so long to be able to write about it, but I am now in the odd position of having lost track of who I have and haven’t told and blind-siding people with the news. Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my Mum’s death.

It’s taken a long time for it to filter through, a lifetime’s practice of repression and denial doesn’t drop away overnight, but it is coming through and sometimes I’m able to see the positive in that, the space for healing. The rest of the time I try to hold myself somewhere between pushing everything into the cellar at the back of my mind, and being completely overwhelmed.

My blog

I’ve missed writing here. Part of the reason I stopped was a fear of showing too much to potential employers or colleagues. Given that I want to work in dance, and in particular with people who use dance to explore emotion and humanity, I’m starting to feel that may have been an unnecessary fear. My sudden desire to be taken seriously, to try and become a dancer, rather than accept that I already am one, getting in the way of me actually exploring.

There’s a thought, a belief, or several hanging around behind this, something like “professional people are stoic” and “showing weakness makes you less employable”. I’m not really feeling strong enough to poke around there too much, I seem to be so tired when I’m not dancing (and when I am there’s energy coming from a seemingly boundless source).

Meeting new mind squirrels

When someone is able to point to your mind squirrels and name them, it is both relieving and terrible. The sense of emotional release is potentially addictive, and the pain is therefore bitter-sweet. The combination of surprise, delight and agony often causes me to laugh at how my own mind is constructed – the ridiculous nature of my habits, thoughts, feelings & behaviours.

It is easy to recognise when a mind squirrel has been caught in the headlights. My brain goes quiet, all I can say is either “Yes” or “Ow”, and it feels like I’ve been skewered through the chest. It is not an understanding. It is not the addition of a new node of information to the multi-faceted construction of my mental model, indeed it can take a while for my mind to catch up and put the understanding into a context it can accept. It goes straight to the heart of me, and is thus a raw & powerful moment. It is to feel heard, understood, acknowledged.

I may not have what I truly want

Meet my most recently discovered squirrel. He is an old squirrel I feel. He does not talk to me directly but I can see his hairs left on so many things I’ve felt. He will not be released just by knowing he is there; he has minions who may carry on working, even in his absence. No, this squirrel is a network of squirrels, and he may not even be the leader, but he is most certainly a General.

Oddly enough, despite the military metaphor, I do not feel in battle with my squirrels. Rather they are like busy little workers, given a task so long ago, creating new squirrels as they see the need, and only without proper management and guidance have they wreaked the havoc that is now happening in my mind (and most everyone else’s too).

My job therefore is to learn to manage my squirrels properly. To see their skills & talents and put them to good uses rather than unhelpful ones. To tell them off for all their hard work will not win them over, rather I must try and remember to be grateful for all their efforts, to remember the good they have done for me and not just focus on the negative. I will become a Master Squirrel Herder, and eventually they will need only minimal attention day-to-day. For the moment however, having found my squirrels in panic and disarray they need constant love and attention, and I am so very tired.

I’m not alone; I’m receiving support from a Master Squirrel Herder, have company in fellow Squirrel Herding Apprentices, and sometimes have the patience and understanding that it is acceptable for my squirrels to be in disarray right now and to give myself a break. Indeed, learning how to maintain momentum and motivation without beating on myself is another new skill to start to practise. (Skills and skills about skills. It’s no surprise I’m tired.) Not being alone doesn’t stop it sucking though.

(Thanks to Joely for the Mind Squirrel analogy, it’s serving me well.)

And breathe…

I can see bits and bobs I could write more about. I don’t know if I will or not. But for now fatigue is taking over and I would rather avoid this turning into bumbling emotional rambling. More than it already is at least. So I’m going to see if I can manage some more knitting or if I need to just sit and stare at the rain a while.

I read a post by Havi recently which matched up with a couple of different threads of thought and led to a way to understand where I’m at right now. It was about being between beginner and expert, and how they deal with challenge. The idea is that beginners can find challenge anywhere, and experts will bring challenge to what they’re doing, but those in the middle can get caught in relying on others to provide the right amount of challenge, and thus lose their sovereignty. (Update: Havi’s written another post clarifying that my summary here is not really the point she’s making – but the thoughts it triggered for this post remain valid for me.)

Whilst I can see parallels that agree in my life, there have been times when I’ve wanted someone else to provide just the right dance class, just the Arabic language class, enough challenge to keep me interested but not too much that I have to work too hard! Yet for some things I find myself unable to manage both the level of challenge and dealing with the challenge itself at the same time. In these areas I would seem to be stuck in the middle ground, reliant on others to manage the challenge.

When stretching, I get a dramatically more satisfactory result if I have a partner who is applying the force of the stretch and I can focus on breathing through and relaxing into the stretch. When dealing with emotional & psychological upset I get a much better result if I have someone else guiding me towards the truth of the situation whilst I focus on being honest with myself and staying open and vulnerable. In both these situations, the amount of challenge needed to obtain the benefit is prohibitive to me both working through that challenge and managing the challenge, i.e. making sure I stay safe.

One of my stories is that I should be able to handle personal challenges like this on my own, that it is unacceptable behaviour to ask for help. It’s taken a long while for me to see that I really needed someone else’s support with my mental health, and I know that I’m not the only one with this story.

This doesn’t contradict Havi’s post, but rather add to it. Whilst someone may be giving away their power & sovereignty to avoid taking responsibility for their own progress, there is another situation where a person is neither beginner nor expert and genuinely needs help to progress.

Beginners need direction, advice on where to start, but can then get on with trying things out by themselves. Which textbook is good for beginners? What exercises are best for those new to pilates/yoga/ballet? How far should I go on my first run? What should I write about on twitter?

Experts can navigate themselves and stretch themselves according to their own goals. I can study proper use of the subjunctive in French grammar, practice correctly engaging my core in downward dog, adjust my movement to take pressure off a sore knee, and decide to reveal more or less about a particular aspect in my writing online.

It is the addition of this element of navigation that I think is key to what I’m feeling here. A good partner will take instruction from me, it is still my choice where I go, but they navigate while I drive. They can even help me keep taking personal responsibility for my own choices through gentle reminder and feedback.