On Dance

For the last few years I have served as the president of the board of directors for a dance company in Philadelphia. I am often asked how I became involved in dance. Some ask not knowing about my life as a musician, performer, and composer. Some ask knowing me only as a musician.

In my third year of college I was asked by a friend of a friend if I would be willing to play for a dance performance. They needed the guitar part of Susanne Vega’s Song of Sand and wondered if I could learn it and play it live on stage with them. It seemed like a simple enough request and I obliged as we were all friendly and what else did I have to do? This experience became like many of my experiences in dance. Dance begins with an invitation.

We rehearsed a few times. Most of the work was done without me as I learned the tune as was on the record. The evening of the performance came and I was asked to remove my shoes. This was a matter of fact due to the marley flooring but it was not explained to me that way. It was explained as a manner of stepping into the dance space. I will not say ‘sacred ground’ but ground, no less. Lights dimmed and bodies rushed. The buzz of audience behind the thin muslin curtain. Funny that I remember the audience being behind the curtain as if they were to perform for us somehow.

We began, that is, I began and was taken with the movement to my playing. With my playing. This was not moving to a flat line but to a pulse. It became immediately clear that this was necessary. I describe nearly every experience in dance as my having tunnel vision. It is not so much that I become alone as an observer but that periphery disappears.

Such a powerful expression. It does, with intent, what you assume individuals are doing all the time–part of the reason that you may watch people at all. As you approach one another. As you speak. When you mention a sensitive subject. Strong words.

Dance purposely speaks through motion. If observation is how we interpret the intentions of those around us, then dance closes the emotional gap that exists between verbal communication and the physical tell that is telegraphed to us.

Make no mistake.

Dance is saying something.

To you.

Becoming Nobody

Online chess. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. It is a stretch to say that I like losing but I consider myself game. Gamey? Gamer. Willing. Much more willing to lose than not to play. Grow or at least have the experience. That will pave the way one pebble at a time.

So often you will hear in a conversation or read in a blog or social media outlet that someone considers themselves a “lifelong learner.” I wonder what they are learning? In my informal survey of these statements, it is typically a statement about one’s willingness to improve or change their current skills. Is that not what everyone does or is expected to do? Formally, I would enjoy gaining more information about genuine levels of objective growth and change rather than anecdotes about life-changing events and decisions that “really moved (institution X) forward.

improve or destroy

As one who enjoys martial arts, I look at all areas of my life to reveal my training partner. It changes by day and by context but the function is the same. By working together, each one has the goal of improving their skill and they cannot do it alone. Regardless of your training partner, you can only have one competitor. Self. Choose how much practice takes place, quality of food, level of hydration, and intensity of work. Make the decision to be present. Aware.

Before I step onto the mats I determine my attitude and I am sure that it influences who obliges when I offer to pair up for a session of training. So many would love to say that “any given Sunday” I may win a match or lose a match; have an up day or a down day. That is not the case. My training session begins the night before when I decide to get a decent night’s sleep and moves forward with decisions throughout the day. There are not many decisions to be made. There is one. Then another one.

Me and Relson
Mugging for the camera with Relson Gracie

Watching the documentary “Bobby Fischer Against the World,” I heard David Shenk saying that there were 40,000 moves on a chess board after the first move. If you know anything about chess, you know that this is inaccurate. From both a mathematical standpoint as we as a meaningful standpoint, it is inaccurate. The only one with thousands of moves before them in a chess match is a fool.

Every decision made through the day determines an analog success or failure on the mat that evening. However you may score it. We all score it somehow. That is how we measure growth. I will not pretend to be one of the “all for fun” types. I will not claim to be a technician or analyst of the game but I know this–there are necessary and sufficient conditions in order to achieve growth and most of them depend on me.

Become nobody. Be humble. Serve. Give. Leave your ego at the door. I will take it one step further…maybe several steps. Those decisions that you make all week determine the type of training partner you will be for someone and reciprocally, they will then be for you. Rather than simply preparing yourself to respond and react, prepare yourself to be your best for someone else.

Mat Rats–Contextual coaching towards Expertise

It is rare that I have anything that resembles spare time but in the words of Lemmy, who at the time was referencing beer, “There’s no such thing as extra, but you can have some of mine!”

Don’t you touch me baby ‘cos I’m shakin’ so much
Creative Commons license via egvvnd

Time is a hot commodity in the @DrTimony household these days and between the full time job, part time job, wife, pre-K mini-@Timony, and sleep, it gets downright sticky. When it gets sticky, stress has its opportunity to creep onto the agenda making the brief moments of repose seem barely worth the while. The first thing that tends to suffer the wrath of the scheduling blade is getting to my gym of choice, Balance Studios. And, as many of the sharper readers know, exercise is probably the one thing that could make a life less stressful.

Getting back to the mats has increased the calm in my life. Some friends have said that it must be nice to “blow off some steam” by sparring. I understand the sentiment but it could not be more distant from the truth. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (the gentle art) provides me with some of the greatest calm that I experience through the week. There is no steam. It is more like meditation. Meditation with chokes and joint locks.

Even while sitting off to the side to catch my breath, I enjoy watching the chess match unfolding before me.

Josh R. Vogel earning his brown belt

This week I was able to take in some excellent instruction and engage in several challenging matches. Watching some friends ‘roll’ gave me time to reflect on my decision making process on the mat as well as the input that I received during and after some matches. It is common to pause after a match, submission, or major positional transition and have a training partner provide a few words of feedback. I sat watching and began to categorize the different types of training partners that I encountered that day and in days past. Listening to the narrative of breaths, compliments, corrections, and encouragements. The roles of individuals on the mat depended on the equity of skills. I found myself in the catbird seat among a dynamic context of coaching and made note of a few characters.

The nicknames that I give to these folks are non-judgmental and are solely intended to differentiate.

The Lion: Confident in skills and willing to let the training partner experience dominant positions to practice their offense. The Lion is conversely willing to place the opponent into unenviable, defensive positions with a fraction of the pressure to encourage escapes with good technique. Timely, rare, encouragements inspire.

Cubs: These are real gamers–there is equity in skill and respect. They match each other in intensity which often varies. The level of effort and challenge is often expressed in percentages. These training partners may agree on a level of challenge at 30-50-75% often called ‘flow-rolling.’ This is done to work on the transition more than the endgame. It is common to hear talk-aloud discussion during their training or to pause to make corrections or to discuss best methods for drilling a particular maneuver.

The Predator: This is the no-nonsense competitor who moves from dominant position to dominant position seeking the submission regardless of the equity of the matchup. For over-matched partners, you will typically see them spending their time surviving and tapping when they cannot prevent the choke or joint lock.

These are only a few of the models that may be seen on the mats and I cannot help but wonder how these context specific coaches may serve to advance high level skill acquisition and the progression towards Expertise. More to come.