***
“What makes you a good dancer is not trying to be someone you’re not…What makes you a good dancer is being yourself, but more so.”
Don’t know about you, but this reminds me of the “longing for your giant self” Kahlil Gibran spoke of in “The Prophet” (see my post On Education – Intro).
Seriously, you hear people talk about this kind of “embrace yourself” stuff all the time, and it sounds cliché, I know. I talk about it all the time, I guess, and sometimes I feel like I’m beating it to death. But it’s so true.
“Underneath all that you do ticks an individual style that makes you the inimitable person – and dancer – you are. The singular form and structure of your body, how they make you move, your sense of timing, your feelings and your experiences are the raw materials you have to work with as a dancer. However limiting they may seem sometimes, they are your lump of clay, ready to be kneaded and shaped into movement. Success – whether for yourself of before an audience – depends to a great extent on how effectively you can make your unique qualities of body and spirit work for you.”
I’m telling you, this is absolutely true. I’ve been through the wanting-to-be-someone-else thing before. To the extreme.
When I was still at UChicago as a premed (briefly), one factor that drove me further into my depression was the sense that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be able to fit into the whole culture of medicine.
In my heart, I was sure I’d make for a good doctor – I had the genuine desire to work with people, the relentless work ethic (once I decided I wanted to be a doctor, I got straight A’s), the mental toughness, and the intelligence, both practical and academic.
But somehow I knew I just didn’t have that doctor persona, or at least the one that people typically associate with doctors. The fact is, it’s not the doctor persona that heals people – it’s the doctor. But med school admissions boards didn’t really seem hip to that, at least from what I could tell from my anally extensive research into admissions forums (every premed does this, all the time, it’s practically part of homeostasis for them). And frankly, our society values this persona so much, it’s gotten to the point where it might actually be important for patients in terms of the placebo effect.
But to get back to “Dancing.”
“Many dancers stop far short of realizing their potential because they feel they don’t fit some stereotyped notion of what a dancer should be. Or they make the mistake of trying to cram themselves into an ill-fitting mold. In doing so, they lose their greatest ally, the natural dancer within. For dancing is best and most enjoyable when you use it to express – not suppress – yourself. There is a mushrooming effect: The more of yourself you can put into dancing, the more satisfying it will be both for you and for others watching you.”
You see? Dancing is best when you use it to express yourself. And expressing yourself – being genuine – makes you a more attractive person to others too.
My friends sometimes say I’m socially awkward as hell. I’m also somewhat culturally retarded in terms of knowing things that people my age generally know. I don’t deny any of this – I just tend to think of it in a different light. Social awkwardness, if it’s the result of being genuine and expressing oneself, practically converges to confidence.
And we all know how sexy confidence is, right?
I’ve learned not to waste a single ounce of my energy trying to be anyone but myself. If I don’t feel like watching the Superbowl, then fuck the Superbowl. Some people may think I’m an idiot, but many people who get to know me seem to like me just fine.
I’m telling you, there exists an immediate understanding between two genuine people, an awareness, an intangible bond. Even if they have little in common, the fact that they’re genuine and that they pursue their own interests with passion – that’s the strongest basis for friendship there is.
I’ve been fortunate in my life to have met a few people like this, and these people are the ones I feel most kinship with. Just the thought of them serves as a shot of inspiration to the soul.
And you know what? Freeing myself from the stressful and energy-requiring “conforming process” allows me to devote myself to the loads of other way more interesting things out there. Like dancing, for example.
But back to “Dancing.”
“The pages of dance history are filled with accounts of dancers who learned to capitalize on what they could do rather than be limited by what they couldn’t change…Ironically, many of the concert pieces we see today are the product of a certain dancer’s inability to conform to the prevailing standards of his or her day. Steps, whole dances and entire movement styles have been invented out of a choreographer’s personal oddities – which have, in fact, turned out not to be limitations but openings into new ways of moving.”
I have Tourette’s syndrome. As an actor, I worry a lot about this. Trying to control my tics can be a pain in the ass. But sometimes I get the feeling that paying attention to them and trying to control them lends me an extra awareness of my body that gives me a leg up when it comes to acting. Perhaps this is just my way of trying to justify a weakness. But regardless, I’m excited to see how I maneuver around my Tourette’s as I try to get my acting career off the ground.
“If you wish to make the most of your dancing ability, you cannot afford to sacrifice your personal style by slavishly pursuing an ideal body form or a movement idiom that happens to be prized by current fashion…if you want to dance, and dance well, whatever you’ve got is all you need. Indeed it is the greatest thing you have to offer.”
“'Style is character,' exclaims novelist Joan Didion. Style is an act of courage.”
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Have the sand to embrace your individual style and express yourself.
-David
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