On Dancing and Personalities (Blog #1066)

Currently it’s six in the evening and I’m in Springfield, Missouri, above the Savoy Ballroom. In an hour–I don’t know–a hundred people will be downstairs, dressed in rolled-up jeans and poodle skirts, ready for tonight’s sock hop. In two hours, after a swing dance lesson, the hop will officially begin. At some point, my friend Matt and I will perform a routine to “Good Golly Miss Molly” with our friends Anne and Andy, the studio owners, and six other couples. Matt and I just learned the routine last night. Just before I sat down to blog, we practiced again. Thankfully, everything is starting to make sense.

Late last night and earlier today I went down the rabbit hole of learning about different personalities, according to a system (Human Design) I was introduced to a few days ago thanks to what I believe was fate. You know, that happy little thing that’s beyond our control and places us in the right place at the right time. And whereas I’m a total newbie about all this, the system makes sense to me. The main thing I like about it being that it doesn’t try to squeeze everyone into the same box. Rather, in very clear terms, it espouses the idea that we’re all made beautifully and uniquely different, and for good reasons. What I bring to the table isn’t what you bring to the table.

And we need both things.

Now, I’m not going to try to take my extremely limited understanding of Human Design and explain the whole system. But perhaps by sharing a few things that have resonated with me, I can offer to you what’s been offered to me, the peace of mind that comes through self-acceptance. Like, here’s something. For decades I’ve told people that I’m not spontaneous, that my idea of being spontaneous is to write on my calendar, “Do something unplanned this Saturday at three o’clock.” Well, I’ve given myself a lot of crap for this. I’ve looked at people who fly by the seat of their pants and been jealous. I’ve thought, I wish I could do that. God, Marcus, why can’t you lighten the fuck up and STOP planning? But according my specific Human Design profile, I haven’t been created to function that way. Indeed, the affirmation it offers to my type is, “I am not here to be spontaneous. I am here to be deliberate.”

Deliberate. It’s amazing what freedom you can find in a single word. YES, I am NOT here to be spontaneous. That’s for someone else. Go, live by your fancy. As for me, I’m a planner, an on-purpose-er.

I am here to be deliberate.

I can’t tell you how much I identify with this word. Likewise, I identify with the concept of “just doing it,” of having a thought and making something happen. But apparently only nine percent of the world’s population are like me. The others, the majority, prefer to be invited to do something, rather than initiating it (a conversation, a business, a lifestyle change). I don’t know their official profile, but I’ve always said that one of my friends will NEVER mow their lawn on their own, certainly never PLAN to mow their lawn on their own. But if you (spontaneously) say, “Hey, wanna mow your lawn today?” they’ll be right there WITH YOU. Anyway, that’s what I’m seeing. That I’m a loner, but some people absolutely are not. I’m a planner, but some people are anything but.

And we need both things.

Along these lines, apparently I have my willpower center defined, meaning that I have willpower that’s self-generated and self-sustaining (just do it). For years I’ve looked at people I love and even total strangers in judgment. Like, why can’t you get motivated? And yet anywhere from two-thirds to seven-eights(!) of the population have willpower centers that are undefined. They REQUIRE the motivation of others to get them going. And not that they can’t get things done (in fact, they can get things done REALLY WELL); their actions just aren’t self-initiated. And whereas this may sound like, Oh crap, I don’t have much willpower (you know, it’s all the rage right now), that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Everything has its ups and downs. For example, the trade-off I make for being able to initiate things and having a lot of willpower is that it’s easy for me to burn out. Because I don’t come with an endless supply of energy, the way many people who don’t have as much willpower do.

What I’m seeing more and more clearly is that, well, both things are needed. All personality types are good and necessary. For balance. For harmony. For clarity. It’s not just my way or the highway. It’s our way or no way at all. We need each other to survive. No one can dance alone.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Go easier on yourself.

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Anything but a Setback (Blog #696)

This evening I drove home from Springfield, where I spent the weekend. Coming back I tried to take my time. I’m trying to be more mindful and not be in such a hurry all the damn time. This is a challenge for me; I’m always on the go-go. Anyway, when I stopped for dinner, I sipped my tea, read a book. When I got home, I methodically unpacked. This part was easy enough because I’m anal. Everything ALWAYS has its place. Now it’s ten-thirty, and I’m lying horizontal in bed because last night took it out of me. I’m hoping I can get this over with, do some leg exercises, and get straight to bed.

Crap, I’m in a hurry again.

Last night I attended a sock hop at my friends Anne and Andy’s dance studio. They host a sock hop every year, and last night was my third one to attend. Anyway, even though I knew I couldn’t do a lot of dancing, I figured it would be the perfect thing to get out-of-town, see friends, and move, even a little. As it turns out, I was right (this is often the case, ha). Everything about the sock hop was a blast–the music, the costumes, the people. Plus, my friend Matt, who used to live in Springfield but recently moved away, showed up to visit. Talk about a treat. Not only did we have good conversation, but we also laughed, laughed, laughed.

Every time someone asked me if I wanted to dance last night I said, “Yes, but I recently had knee surgery and need to stick to the basics,” which I did. When the dance first started, before I hit the floor, a couple friends asked if it was killing me to watch everyone else dance. Really, it wasn’t. I’ve watched people dance before. Plus, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to watch people with two functioning knees walk, run, and dance over the last three months, and I’ve made peace with the fact that I’m not currently there. That being said, it was frustrating for me to actually dance. For one thing, so many of my movements felt awkward and jerky. For another, there was so much that my body wanted to do (jump, spin, turn) that it couldn’t. That’s what sucked–to feel broken, to not be able to really cut loose and dance up a storm.

So many times over the years I’ve attended dances and wanted to look and dance like someone else. God, you can really get carried away comparing yourself to others. But last night I really just wanted to dance like me, to be able to do what I used to be able to. And I know–I’ll get back there. Baby steps. But until that happens, I’m going to try to be content with where I am and what I have. Ugh. This is the toughest thing, to accept life as it is, to not always be wanting something you ain’t got–to look like someone else, to dance like your former self. Some people say that’s the secret to happiness, to want what you have.

Lately my shoulder’s been hurting. For the most part it’s not dramatic, but it’s something I’m aware of almost constantly. On the way home today I listened to a podcast that said injuries and pain aren’t setbacks, they’re signals. That is, it’s easy when you’re hurting (or not dancing up to par with your former self) to think that you’ve somehow moved backwards in the grand scheme of things. As if life were a board game and, thanks to the roll of the dice, you’ve been asked to go back three squares and not collect two hundred dollars. But the podcast suggested that our problems are simply information, that pain is often the body’s way of saying, “Something’s up here. This could use a little attention.”

In terms of my knee, and I can’t believe I’m about to say this, I’m glad I injured it like I did. Not that this has been a pleasant experience, but it has taught me how to be patient, how to accept help from others, how to better care for myself, and how to slow the fuck down. And that’s huge, learning all that stuff. Anything but a setback. But more on learning to slow down. I think that’s a message my body’s been trying to convey for a while now–slow down, chill out, relax. And whereas I hate it when my knee says it can’t spin or my shoulder says it doesn’t want to, I don’t know, lift weights at the gym, I’m learning to trust and listen to my body. Fine, you don’t feel like doing that, we won’t do that. Period. End of story.

Fine, you’re ready to bed. We’ll go to bed.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It's the holes or the spaces in our lives that give us room to breathe and room to rest in, room to contain both good and bad days, and--when the time is right--room for something else to come along.

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Simple Pleasures (Blog #332)

Yesterday I drove to Missouri for a sock hop. Talk about fun. There was music from the fifties (played on actual vinyl records), an Elvis impersonator, the stroll, a twist contest, a hula hoop contest, and a milkshake stand. I even got to perform in a Lindy Hop routine with nineteen other people (as a follower). I danced until I was soaking wet. At the end of the night, I could have won a wet t-shirt contest. Honestly, it was the most fun I’ve had in months.

After the dance, I helped my friends Anne, Andy, Matt, and Emma clean up the ballroom. (Anne and Andy own it and live upstairs.) Then Anne, Andy, Matt, and I went to IHOP and were there until almost three in the morning. (We got there late, and the staff was having a rough night.) Afterwards Matt went home, and the rest of us went back to the ballroom. When we got there, I realized my wallet wasn’t in my jacket and that it had probably fallen out at the restaurant. Andy and I went back, and Anne called them while we were on our way. Thankfully, they’d found it, and when I got there, nothing was missing.

Phew. That could have turned out so much worse.

Today Matt and I worked on Lindy Hop for a few hours. We bounced and jumped around quite a bit, and although my ankles were a little cranky, the rest of my body hung in there. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for this. Both last night and today, my energy level has been up. Almost normal. So many times in my life I’ve taken feeling good for granted, but having spent the last few months dragging ass, I’m reminded today that it really is a gift. Just being able to get out of the house and have fun with your friends and not feel like you’ve been hit by a truck–it’s huge.

That being said, I do currently feel as if I’ve been hit by a truck. But like a really small one. Like a Datsun. But that’s mostly because of all the jumping around Matt and I did today. I spent nearly an hour getting thrown in the air. And whereas it was way fun, I guess it all sank in on the drive home tonight. These bones ain’t what they used to be.

Don’t worry, I have Ibuprofen.

Now I’m back to house sitting for some friends and taking care of their dogs, who honestly seemed rather unimpressed with the fact that I’d returned. I mean, they barked, but they didn’t wag their tails when I walked in the door. That’s okay–I don’t need their approval. I can wag my own tail. With any luck I’ll be in bed before long, falling asleep grateful for simple pleasures like the company of friends, the feel of a wet t-shirt against my skin, and having a body capable of jumping.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true.

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