Big Eyes

Children don't need me to give up my seat on the subway.  But it's extra satisfying to be nice to a child, especially when their parents then start to talk them in a very conscientious way, explaining the the world to their wide-opened eyes, sharing acts of courtesy with them.  If we could all set good examples for one another, and if we could all be so open to see them.

No Stickers

Yes, it is extremely potent.  Awareness.

One of my students has struggled to love the cello as much as her parents would like her to.  But she has continued for some mix of reasons.  Today she got a new instrument and it rings so beautifully.  Before I put on stickers for where her fingers should go, I had her guess and play a scale.  And it was fine, no problem.  She was still looking at her finger though.  So I suggested playing French Folk Song with her eyes closed.  And then I got to watch her bask in the sound of her cello, not worrying about the right or wrongness of her fingers.  She found she could even make a shift to second position without the stickers.

Before awareness comes trust, and another person--an adult, a child, a teacher, a student, a peer, a friend--can be a wonderful, though not the only, source to start that feeling.  With trust we can allow ourselves to have the vulnerability that allows us to admit we are unaware.  And being aware of being unaware is the best way to open ourselves to awareness.  I'm not sure if there is another way.

But trust is first, I think.  Sometimes we are aware before trust and that can be hurtful.  Something to remember in teaching as we set to correct.

From where?

If I am fluent in a language, perhaps that is all it takes for another to learn it from me.  As a teacher, what else is required?  It seems there is still some extra step of guidance, beyond simply living in a certain way.  Is it necessary to package the information, to hand it off?  How much should we think about the one to whom we give it?  Does it matter if we only see them once a week?  Would it be different if we learned to live together in many ways?

Translating nonverbally

It seems natural that being grateful for something given to me, I should wish to pass it along to others, even if it is a language that I'm rusty in.  And so it's natural that it isn't fluent at first.  Japanese only came to me when I had no other alternative.  It isn't easy to speak in way I'm not used to.  And I had another way of teaching in mind right now which is a very big challenge to translating it otherwise.  But in the spirit of this new way, I will observe, and note habits of my own, and explore.

A snippet from a day with U.V., a beloved mentor and teacher

I never want to extract anything from my students.  That's what they have.  But I like to play with it.  It's not about corrective work, but about exploring what is there, to help them become more aware, more curious about it for themselves.

When I see or hear a student, I just let myself become curious about something and then I like to explore it like a child in a sandbox.  We can't take what we do too seriously.  It's very serious, but this is why we have to be playful.

Anything can be a point of probing awareness.  Weight balances and imbalances, distances from a part of the body to another.  Which arm hangs closer to the center of your body, which sitz bone has more weight?  Now play with it, lean more to that side with your body, take your shoulder back to center but leave your pelvis there.  Now sit normally again.  Is there any difference?

It is the same for any age.  Once I know my approach it's just a matter of different tools.  With a child you must do more, you must approach it from a child's world, but the ideas are the same.

Mahler 4

I used to sit for hours and listen to musicians all around me playing in an orchestra.  It was my job to listen.  But it takes time and money to go to a concert and since it was my vocation for several years, I often feel more inclined to spend both those things towards experiencing dance.

But one of the places where I work offered free tickets to a NYPhil concert of Mahler's 4th Symphony and a violin concerto by Auerbach.  This evening I got to sit and listen for nearly two hours.  Musicians take for granted moments of respite, moments of fury, of transcendent grace.  I love the teaching that I'm doing, and also the playing, but sitting and listening reminded me of another practice deeply valuable to myself and something that I want to pass along to my students.  It's something that has to be experienced, a sensitivity, a humility, a sincerity and conviction.  We don't encounter the extent of the emotions of which we are capable during everyday life.  And maybe even in a concert hall we cannot fully fathom them.  But to sit and listen to the gift of one no longer with us, one creating in our time, and the hundred performers who live and breath the sounds they imagined is quite remarkable.

Allowing Vulnerability

I tend to assume that people act out of kindness, or ignorance, or fear.  I saw a lot of all of these things in my lessons today.  With more experience, I will likely come to better anticipate the lull that happens over a break, especially one that allows for family and fun vacations.  Perhaps I will do more to prevent it, and perhaps I will do more to accept it and move forward.

As a teacher I'm in a position of power.  They come to me having or not having practiced.  It's interesting to see who people are in this state.  Some scenarios are apologetic emails followed by contrite and humble lessons.  Others, defensive posturing and avoidance.  Others, friendly distractions.  Children are so honest, people are so honest, even if not open.

I wrote briefly about my dance experience yesterday.  It occurred to me during that class that the young girl who was obviously a dancer but for whom this was a first (ish?) Graham class, felt quite differently than I did.  She is a "dancer."  When we have expectations, or think others have them of us, it's quite different than if we are open.  Not being 20 years old, or having any designs on a career or even full proficiency in this method, my discomfort is far less personal.  I have the option to be more open and in some ways, more resilient to my failings.   I can observe them the way that I observe my students do things that are completely natural but incorrect.  Things for which I understand the cause.

We act as we do for reasons.  Sometimes for or from love, sometimes because we are afraid, sometimes because we don't know what our actions are doing or where they come from.  But perhaps we can identify the feeling of discomfort and from there open the chest, and expose ourselves to ourselves.