Camino Series: Astorga, Day 24

6 June 2013

It's about finding truth in myself.

Walking has become therapy. I can move forward, feel my muscles, bones, nerves, joints… and breathing…. and accept the pain, accept the worries, judgements, fear, and incessant planning, and let them go. They all exist in me and will arise but they don't dictate the trajectory of my life negatively, only in the way I am supposed to go.

 I keep getting blisters. It was perplexing until I realized that there will always be pain, as in life, same on the camino. I could get angry or cry about it…. or accept it, live with it, and also let it go.

The walking is beautiful. I am so thankful for every day that passes, each day to put a foot in front of the next. I didn't even look at the guide book today, we just woke up and started walking.

Camino Series: Hornillos, Day 14

29 May 2013

Right near the end of the day, Jess and I rounded over the top of a magnificent hill, looking down on the village below and in the distance… the wind! It was SO strong! So much bigger than us! As we walked downhill, allowing our weight to fall, the wind counter-balanced us, kept us upright… Jess said that she felt like she was on the moon! I felt like I could fly. My arms outstretched, the wind passing through every cell of my body, I felt so whole and alive. My heart pumping, breath coming and expelling, the grass going the same direction my hair was, the air fresh, clean, and clear. We let ourselves surrender, laughing.

Camino Series: My, how a year passes

A year ago, I fled. Things were not going well. Dissatisfied, scared, desperate, lonely, confused…I knew I had to go. Needed drastic change. So, I left New York to go to London. A place I felt drawn to, especially artistically. My beautiful friends all supported me, told me I was brave, but it's never been easy. I'm not going to pretend that putting myself out there, traveling, hasn't been terrifying. My relationship with the unknown is one that I am continually exploring and cultivating. But, regardless of the fear, those pangs of intuition… the voice deep inside my heart that whispers… "it is time to move"… is something I can't ignore. Just ask my dear friend Jess, (actually both of my dear friends named Jess) and they will tell you that 24 hours before my flight to London over a year ago, I was a wreck. Not unlike the first time I bought my solo ticket overseas for my first three months of travel alone. Crying and scared, second guessing my ability to handle the world and life decisions in the face of the abyss of the unknown... I recognized the feelings of fear as something that I am working on. I am practicing not giving it power, and instead sending it compassion and love... not letting the fear debilitate me as it had in the past. Because in the end, we must do what our hearts are yearning for. When something, someone, is calling my name… when I am able to let go, be honest and true to myself, it is most important for me to go there, to them, and follow through. There have been many times in my past when I didn't, and learned the lesson... that I don't want to live with regret.

London. Being in a brand-new city, not knowing anyone… was isolating. Falling down a slope I knew only too well, a slope that led to debilitating despair that I still didn't have the tools to deal with alone. I started reading avidly, so many books, going to performances, museums, shifting my mindset to where I felt happiness… as a student. Choosing my own 'curriculum' as a student of life. I knew that a turning point must be near, wanting only to be a sponge for all that was good, honest and true. It gave me much needed time to learn how to relate to myself again. Spending quality time with me. Walking, observing life, writing, sketching, visiting sights I'd read about and studied my entire life, finding a connection to the city on a very personal level.  During this time in London, the discontent of my own inadequacy of my art form was ruling me. Stuck in this familiar state of mind that I so badly wanted to change... feeling like a failure. Then fracturing my elbow in a dance class forced me to stop dancing for half the time I was in the city. By the end of my time in London, drained and hungry... the next step? There was no other option, the ONLY thing I could do was to go on pilgrimage. It was what my heart was screaming for and that filled me with purpose. To strip away all societal responsibility, all expectations of myself about my trajectory of life, to have one task, to devote myself to one intention, and that was to continue walking forward. I knew it was the most important thing I could do in my life right at that moment.

Jess met me in London and we flew to France together. We started the journey that changed both of our lives immensely. It was humbling and comforting to be traveling alongside a friend. For the year before that, I had been traveling, backpacking, alone... and this was the first time I was embarking on a journey with a companion! A companion who I trust completely, and is a sister to me.

The Camino de Santiago… it has become popular in the past few years because of a movie that came out called "The Way".  I had never heard of the movie. I had never heard about the camino until the previous summer. The summer I was in Vienna, one of our roommates, Emanuel, told me of his sister who had done a pilgrimage biking across Asia! I had never heard of a "modern-day" pilgrimage, and thought only major athletes could do long treks like that… I started picking his brain. He told me of pilgrimages in Russia, Italy, Israel, and Spain. He then began to describe the Camino de Santiago... How the medieval pilgrims would journey from their homes all across Europe to pay respects to the remains of Saint James in Santiago, and then journey a little farther to the Atlantic Ocean… Finisterre… the end of the earth. Usually, it was their first and only time seeing the ocean, and what was at that time in history, the end of everything that they knew to exist in this world. They would take a shell from the shore and bring it back to their families, a symbol of their journey. Even today, pilgrims tie a shell to their pack so that others will know their purpose. I knew that this was going to be a journey I'd take at some point in my life, but never could have dreamed that a year later, and a year ago today, we'd be in France getting our first stamp in our pilgrim credentials.

This journey continues to teach me every single day. In beautiful, unexpected ways. It was difficult, and there were many tears, many days I walked all day alone, but ultimately helped me begin to heal in a way that I have no words to express except gratitude. The 34 days of pilgrimage, physical exertion, constant change of weather, landscape, beds, lessons, and some of the most open hearts I have ever met in my entire life… The spirit of the camino lives through us, and every day since… like I was taught by the countless pilgrims who touched me on that journey, and reflecting on all the people I know from my life before, after, and through… to live with the intention to become a more open, honest, and loving person. A shift in perspective. I wouldn't be where I am today if not for the trajectory the camino helped me find. To open my heart. To learn to communicate more deeply and fluidly. To appreciate the moment we are in right now. To let go of debilitating expectations of ourselves and others and just move forward, no matter what.

In honor of the journey that changed my life… happy one year camino anniversary!

 (Photos I took on the road)

To my siStars Jess, Martha, Emma and fellow pilgrims Jost, Vinka, Linda, Dean, Clint, Richard, Helena, Martin, and all those we met along the way.

Learning how to live with levity

Life can become so serious
When you forget how to play
When the fresh air is just a means to go
from house to car in anguish. Defeated
Disconnected and
You still complain about the weather?
In another lifetime, I played in the pouring rain,
jumping from puddle to lake,
through frigid kingdoms,
sending invitations to muddy tea parties,
struggling to keep my silent mouse family alive
in a broken hollow tree,
wrapped in white blankets
journeying through a wintery desert…

When laughter overtakes me,
discomfort is a past memory.
I had forgotten the joy
in playing with the frozen ground
Not just upon it
And even the most blustery day
can hold an adventure or two…

When you look out the window and decide
how you will approach today,
Take a deep breath
to taste the sea…
Only then can you can decide,
and only then you can truly see.
Now more than ever, my friend,
will you come out and play with me?

Creating from the Unseen

Tonight I shared with Augusta a story…

Since I was a kid, I've been taking acting classes. But even after years of practice, I felt uncomfortable about improvisation. For those who don't know what that is: improvisation is what they do on "Who's Line is it Anyway?" In it's simplest form, it means to speak or move or perform without preparation. This principle is used in music, dance, theatre, and other art forms as well. When studying acting, these "improvisations" manifest as games that provide you with boundaries, or rules, that within the structure you are free to explore the scenario in the moment with those ideas in mind. 

Teachers told us that improvising was about following impulses. This idea increasingly perplexed me. As time went on, the more I saw people planning (or forcing) their improvisations. Often that would be apparent as I observed my classmates, the mentality that just because in an improv it gives them the sense that they could do whatever they wanted, manipulating the situation to go how they thought it should go. It would annoy me because I could tell when they weren't listening. Changing the natural course of where the trajectory was going with an outcome in mind, they were not open to let it progress organically.

In my own personal practice, I waited. I would wait until I felt an impulse. This investigation was an extremely slow moving one. With this intention, I began to over-analyze. Thoughts would come in, asking: Is that really an impulse? Or was that just a thought of something that would be funny/ interesting? There became a disconnect between what I was feeling and what I was doing. 

Then fear set in. The fear that I actually didn't know what an impulse was. That the theory of impulse wasn't even a real honest intention. Beginning to assume that everyone, like myself, was over thinking… my inability to participate fully meant I wasn't as creative or decisive as the others. That maybe impulse wasn't the thing I thought I was searching for! Slowly, I stopped participating voluntarily… over-thinking the impulse to even join the group! I would watch my classmates go up to improvise and it took everything I had to muster up the courage to join in. I would watch as people became different characters… have hilarious moments on a park bench, sharing a soda only to realize the restaurant was burning down, eventually leading to a zombie apocalypse... The more I pondered this, the more mysterious it became. The concept of words being an impulse….. became a distant idea.

For me and my understanding, impulse is more physical. Impulse is the pull to hug a loved one, to high five a friend when they did something AWESOME… Impulse is being drawn to look up at the stars for hours on a clear night, to hold someone's hand, to jump in a puddle… when a giant boulder is calling your name to climb it, or to jump on the bed, to PLAY. Impulse makes sense to me when I dance. When all words slip away from your mind and you're riding the waves of your weight shifting in space. Trusting who you are dancing with and trusting yourself… trusting each other… There is no ego, nothing but what you are doing in that moment. 

Continuing to work on the acting and theatre perspective proved to be especially difficult. By the end of my college experience, I approached my acting teacher, a man I deeply respect and admire. I broke down, opened to him about my misunderstanding about impulse in relation to words, and how this had developed into a fear. A fear that, at some point in my career, I felt I would be asked upon to overcome…. to improvise with words. His response was an invitation that I carry with me. He told me…

"When the time comes, and you are asked upon to go there… either you will or you won't. You might not know until you get there, but either you will open and be able to go there, or you won't. There is nothing wrong. Just something to notice." 

Six months later, that opportunity arose. I was in Denmark, auditioning for a choreographer in Aarhus. A few days into the audition process... it happened. She lined us all up along the back wall of the black box theatre. All of us, young women from across the planet. Representing a vast range of cultures, countries, languages, and walks of life; she asked us to tell our story. 

Tell me who you are through your words and movement. 

One by one we stepped forward and told our stories. In our mother tongues. Swedish, Spanish, Japanese, Danish, English, German… and somehow… we could all understand each other. The boundaries slipped away. Everyone was going right to their heart, and it was intoxicating. In awe, absorbing this incredible energy from these women, I suddenly became aware that it was my turn, and having been so engrossed in taking in their stories… I hadn't thought for a moment of what I would do! No predetermination.  Empty vessel. 

Stepping forward, the story began to come out. Quiet, and for the first time this allowed impulse to become my teacher. To trust the story that was coming out, trusting that intention to lead me forward. In the moment, I was experiencing what it meant to be riding on the pure impulse of emotion through movement and words… Adrenaline fueling the truth. The door opened. 

When choreographing and creating there needs to be a balance of what you know and what you are searching for. According to the reservoir of what I've already learned, I call upon the artists that have come before me, people who inform and molded my chosen craft. There is so much to be learned from those who inspire us… as a life-long student, I feel a dedication towards exposing myself to the life-work of others. Now, while embarking on my own artistic endeavors,  I take what I know and journey to push farther…. into the blank pages beyond. Creating from the unseen, the unspoken, to explore an unknown entity. Setting out with an intention and not forcing an outcome. In the past few years, when this mentality has saturated my creative process, I've chosen not to use one single movement that I could name. If I could name it, it was gone. In essence, it became an intregal part of the process of creating my own language as a mover. The work takes on its own life and allows you, the artist, to find the ability to dig deeper than you ever thought. What is created is authentic and true.

I try to create this state not only in my work but to embody it in my self. By not forcing a story or a goal, but to let go of the emotional attachment, work hard, and see what arises. This kind of endeavor is a constant teacher, something to develop, continue learning about and cultivating throughout life. I am excited for what will come next. I see a change in my relationships, plans for my future… in allowing myself to listen, to practice the muscle of opening my heart… to let it lead me…is a place of vulnerability that used to be a brick wall…. I'm now learning how to navigate. As Augusta said to me in response:

"If you follow your intuition, you cannot be wrong"

The essence of impulse.

Figure 5.3

"Figure 5.3: He was wrong about the details. He thought the fire displaced the skin, which pulled a tiny thread, which opened a pore in the ventricle (F), which caused "animal spirit" to flow out through a hollow tube, causing the foot to withdraw (Descartes, 1664). But it was otherwise a good idea."

This is what I read in the chapter entitled "an empirical theory of the mind" in the book "consciousness explained" that I found in the "philosophy" section of "barnes and noble." I have come here because I was pulled by the mysterious force of my subconscious self, as I needed something to do in order to divert my attention from the frustration of missing a morning yoga class. I found that when spontaneously gifted a free hour to myself, I chose Barnes and Noble. So very original, Augusta.

Typically, I thoroughly enjoy planning, and I think I always have. I'm not sure why exactly, maybe because when I do find myself flung into my life untethered to activities, work, and their subsequent outcomes, I feel adrift and sometimes lost, sometimes free. The freedom I feel from not having a plan: I love. Feeling lost is undeniably terrifying. We all have free will; therefore we choose whichever thought path we go down.

I have a group of friends fondly referred to as "the barn kids." This term was assigned to them after they all lived together in a barn of functioning disarray behind my friend Robbie's parents' house. I grew up with Robbie, we go as far back as humanly possible-our mothers were friends before, during and after their pregnancies with us-which has sparked the term we refer to often when describing our friendship: "friends before the womb." I think "wombuddies" has a nice ring to it, but now I see it doesn't look too graceful in text, which is good to know for future reference.

Anyway, so out of all the social butterflies in the world, Robbie is one of the boldest. His heart seems to be an endlessly expanding vessel of good will and his life's work seems to be spreading fun and warm happy feelings to everyone and anyone he meets. Robbie is a man who lives entirely in the present moment, and whenever I am with them, I feel that all of his close friends and lovely girlfriend all practice the same mentality. Robbie and his friends have taught me that living without a plan can be one of the most valuable favors you can do for yourself. Moving and doing with this mentality produces the adrenaline rush that is one of the most invigorating I've ever experienced.

I've found that instead of filling my life with "should do's, need to do's, and want to do's," leaving the door of possibility open allows me to be more available. This availability is how we keep ourselves fully immersed in the ebb and flow of life;  through the ebb into retrospection and the flow into new experience. Unpredictability causes a rush that gets our brains excited, our blood pumping.  This is how we are meant to experience life. 

It's good for you, and whenever I give myself permission to let go of the "do's" I need to "do", I end up in a much better place than where I started, noticeably more relaxed and in touch with intuition. I feel a renewed sense of optimism, as if I have had a temporary lapse in almost incessant mind chatter that is directing me towards what I believe to be my invariable future. Which is both silly and impossible; any attempt to control our futures is futile, and I know it. yet the practicality of this knowledge conflicts with my desire to control it, which again loops me around to my previous point. Setting up the structure and then letting go of any expectations surrounding the outcome is essential in order to flow rather than resist. 

I suppose I should give some sort of explanation for the introduction to this blog post. To be honest, I had no idea I was going to write about this topic when I copied those few lines from that random book. But now, I can see how it is completely congruous to the topic that formulated itself as I wrote. Humans are always trying to dissect and consequentially understand the why and how of everything. That is why books like "consciousness explained" and "your soul contract decoded" and "exploring happiness from Aristotle to brain science" exist (I am literally just reading the titles on this bookshelf, I have never read any of them and therefore hold no opinion on their content). The ability to simply release the NEED TO EXPLAIN is an elemental part of the definition of freedom. THE IMPULSE TO KNOW what is going to happen next (in other words, planning our future) correlates to this concept in that it is an attempt to control what happens in our lives. I believe that these are both essential aspects of the ego and necessary for us to lead productive lives. However, they can be restricting if there is an imbalance with an abundance of inquisitive and controlling thoughts.

Being with my intuitive self and letting it take me wherever I feel drawn results in ultimate freedom, for I no longer need to know why I am headed there. Which is why I'm here, ready to dip back into my scheduled life (although today is my day off, HOORAY) after being brought here by my slightly discontented self of two hours ago when I realized I was not going to make it to yoga on time. Turns out I needed this time to be alone, think and write. Turns out I felt compelled to share it with you on this blog. Turns out I have no control over your opinion of my writing. But as it turns out, that's okay with me.