And another thing...
Violin-playing is really fun. I was dreading being a sub for a violin class today, pulling up memories of having to teach at Success Academy. Despite many positive teaching experiences and feedback since then, there has always been a part of me that doubted my ability to teach in group settings. But not only did I learn to play some violin today, I also learned that I can find a balance of love and discipline in the way that I work with kids, even when they are being unruly. And I got to be an assistant, i.e. "student" in a violin fiddling class. I realized how boring things can be and how much teachers expect students to just pick up, and how confusing it is when it doesn't make sense, and how teachers can make students feel bad unintentionally. And kids don't even really know it's going on, just that they feel bad about themselves in some way. So many valuable lessons in one day.....
Thursday, July 20, 2017
On a personal note.....
I love kids. As I teach, and maybe as I grow a bit older, I love them more and more. All ages, whether good and bad. I just think they are really cool.
And at this point in my life, at 33, it's time to make some choices about whether or not I'm going to have my own. And I think I would like to. Unfortunately as a woman there is only so much time, and I've enjoyed a lot of it being solo and independent. But after getting married last month, it seemed like a good idea to perhaps at least start trying, since these things can take awhile.
It's a difficult thing for me, as much as I love children, to be fully ready to give up my body and my life for one. In the past few weeks, I've started to think that perhaps against all odds, I had become pregnant very easily and quickly. And admittedly, I'd had mixed feelings about it. I love eating peaches and apples and sometimes strawberries, and don't normally care about them being organic, but now I'm supposed to because pesticides might effect my child's immune system. This morning in our Tae Kwon Do workout, I realized I should probably not be doing all the sit-ups and leg-lifts full-kilt, pushing myself to do them as quickly and with as full range of motion as possible, because it would be unsafe. I should not do all the kicks that require twisting of my torso, or jumping, nor should I engage in free-sparring with contact. Now would not be the time to explore my personal limits. Although it's beautiful to have the opportunity to miss that right. Also, no drinking, or smoking (though those are non-issues), and various other things that I will discover have "pregnancy" warnings on them. All these little things claim the sovereignty of my body. And then nursing, and postpartum, rediscovering myself mentally, emotionally, and physically......
So it was a relief to discover this morning that I'm not pregnant. Yes, I would have been happy to discover that I was if that had been the case, but for now, I get just a little longer to own myself and my body. I'm still waiting to be ready for the wanting. I'm just not there yet. Hopefully even writing this out will help me see the balance of what is given for what can be had, these little luxuries of "freedom" in exchange for a life. I still have worries and doubts in myself for my altruism. But I can also trust that things will come in time.
And at this point in my life, at 33, it's time to make some choices about whether or not I'm going to have my own. And I think I would like to. Unfortunately as a woman there is only so much time, and I've enjoyed a lot of it being solo and independent. But after getting married last month, it seemed like a good idea to perhaps at least start trying, since these things can take awhile.
It's a difficult thing for me, as much as I love children, to be fully ready to give up my body and my life for one. In the past few weeks, I've started to think that perhaps against all odds, I had become pregnant very easily and quickly. And admittedly, I'd had mixed feelings about it. I love eating peaches and apples and sometimes strawberries, and don't normally care about them being organic, but now I'm supposed to because pesticides might effect my child's immune system. This morning in our Tae Kwon Do workout, I realized I should probably not be doing all the sit-ups and leg-lifts full-kilt, pushing myself to do them as quickly and with as full range of motion as possible, because it would be unsafe. I should not do all the kicks that require twisting of my torso, or jumping, nor should I engage in free-sparring with contact. Now would not be the time to explore my personal limits. Although it's beautiful to have the opportunity to miss that right. Also, no drinking, or smoking (though those are non-issues), and various other things that I will discover have "pregnancy" warnings on them. All these little things claim the sovereignty of my body. And then nursing, and postpartum, rediscovering myself mentally, emotionally, and physically......
So it was a relief to discover this morning that I'm not pregnant. Yes, I would have been happy to discover that I was if that had been the case, but for now, I get just a little longer to own myself and my body. I'm still waiting to be ready for the wanting. I'm just not there yet. Hopefully even writing this out will help me see the balance of what is given for what can be had, these little luxuries of "freedom" in exchange for a life. I still have worries and doubts in myself for my altruism. But I can also trust that things will come in time.
Wednesday, July 19, 2017
Long-Distance Learning
This morning I had a Skype lesson with a student of mine who returns to her family's home country of Ukraine every summer. I had not realized that her family had set up cello lessons for her back there, and was very happy with her progress at having been able to have lessons 3 times a week. From thousands of miles away, she told me the things her teacher had been working on with her, and played some of the songs, all different than ones than I know.
It was a different technical approach, and seemed to be working very well for her. It's another one of those hidden bonuses of living in New York that I have the pleasure of having a student that goes home to another country, and can have a window into a different way of learning. Styles of playing are quite different in different regions of the world, just like languages, cultural norms. I don't speak the cello technique that she was being taught, but definitely understand and appreciate its value and now have a young teacher of my own. It's fascinating to me to see the passing down of technique within a culture or tradition. I believe some of my teachers had teachers like the one with whom she is currently studying. I recognize the vestiges of the approach, even if it is different than the way I currently approach teaching. It's opening my view of how big the world of possibilities can be, and what's allowed and valid. And then it becomes a question of breaking it down for younger people.
Later in the day I got an Uber and the driver, when I told him I was a cellist, happily said he played violin when he was growing up in Georgia (the country, as he made clear). Funny to have had a taste earlier of the Eastern European musical pedagogy, and then to be given a ride by somebody else from that tradition. He asked where I was from originally, because as he said, "Your accent is a little different and you are much nicer than the people around here."
It is such a resource to have students that can bring gifts from other teachers. It is one of the great things about the world that we live in, that we can learn from one another. I admit that in my student in Ukraine, as well as another one I taught this afternoon that had grown from time at a summer music Institute, I wish I could be the teacher of the world. I feel room to grow as a teacher, room to learn from others, and that can have a conflicted feeling. But it is overshadowed by the growth that I see in them, and by knowing that I have something to offer and that to judge that is to keep it from them (which is unfair), and that growth often happens when students are exposed to new ideas, new teachers, new environments. These are all incredibly valuable and important things to keep in mind. It is not about the teacher, it is about the growth of the student. And if I can grow a little in the meantime, all the better for myself and them.
It was a different technical approach, and seemed to be working very well for her. It's another one of those hidden bonuses of living in New York that I have the pleasure of having a student that goes home to another country, and can have a window into a different way of learning. Styles of playing are quite different in different regions of the world, just like languages, cultural norms. I don't speak the cello technique that she was being taught, but definitely understand and appreciate its value and now have a young teacher of my own. It's fascinating to me to see the passing down of technique within a culture or tradition. I believe some of my teachers had teachers like the one with whom she is currently studying. I recognize the vestiges of the approach, even if it is different than the way I currently approach teaching. It's opening my view of how big the world of possibilities can be, and what's allowed and valid. And then it becomes a question of breaking it down for younger people.
Later in the day I got an Uber and the driver, when I told him I was a cellist, happily said he played violin when he was growing up in Georgia (the country, as he made clear). Funny to have had a taste earlier of the Eastern European musical pedagogy, and then to be given a ride by somebody else from that tradition. He asked where I was from originally, because as he said, "Your accent is a little different and you are much nicer than the people around here."
It is such a resource to have students that can bring gifts from other teachers. It is one of the great things about the world that we live in, that we can learn from one another. I admit that in my student in Ukraine, as well as another one I taught this afternoon that had grown from time at a summer music Institute, I wish I could be the teacher of the world. I feel room to grow as a teacher, room to learn from others, and that can have a conflicted feeling. But it is overshadowed by the growth that I see in them, and by knowing that I have something to offer and that to judge that is to keep it from them (which is unfair), and that growth often happens when students are exposed to new ideas, new teachers, new environments. These are all incredibly valuable and important things to keep in mind. It is not about the teacher, it is about the growth of the student. And if I can grow a little in the meantime, all the better for myself and them.
Tuesday, July 18, 2017
Hot Summer Sleeping
Hot summer nights can be great for over-sleeping. And everything gets closed in on itself for the rest of the day. What expectations we might have must sit back behind other priorities. And those included four very different students to distract from the chaos of squeezing everything in perfectly. Luckily our lives are bigger than our desired routines and our perceived needs. And we become bigger when we live past those obsolete realities and serve others.
All the same, looking forward to another night of summer sleep.....
Monday, July 17, 2017
Practice Habits
What keeps us from practicing as much as we should, or the way that we should? What keeps us from eating well, and getting enough exercise? Do we ever fully appreciate the capacities we have, or always wish for others? What injustices are stopping us from being as fully realized as we might be?
Before watching a documentary on prison injustice, I taught a lesson to an adult. She among other adults, admitted to not practicing consistently. I suppose it's different than being convicted for selling crack and spending 15 years in prison, but in some ways, it seems similar. It's only a difference in magnitude in my relative eyes. I've had limited exposure to drugs, and over-exposure to bad-practice habits. What if that exposure were reversed? They are both easy offenses to commit when the world surrounds us with temptations, even alternate needs.
What tunes our moral compass? What leads it astray, and how do we find inner fortitude to find our way for the best of ourselves and others?
Before watching a documentary on prison injustice, I taught a lesson to an adult. She among other adults, admitted to not practicing consistently. I suppose it's different than being convicted for selling crack and spending 15 years in prison, but in some ways, it seems similar. It's only a difference in magnitude in my relative eyes. I've had limited exposure to drugs, and over-exposure to bad-practice habits. What if that exposure were reversed? They are both easy offenses to commit when the world surrounds us with temptations, even alternate needs.
What tunes our moral compass? What leads it astray, and how do we find inner fortitude to find our way for the best of ourselves and others?
Sunday, July 16, 2017
Blue Sky Day
Philip, our doorman, told me earlier today that his train was delayed last night, so he didn't get home until 2:15 am. He takes the 1 to 96st, then the 2 or 3 to 14th, then the L to Brooklyn, and then a bus after that. Long way home after a shift that gets done at midnight. Wouldn't it be nice if everyone could live where they work?
I started the day with Tae Kwon Do behind Grant's Tomb. It's been awhile since an open field of grass, and open hours of time. A woman asked me about it, said it was a beautiful day, and I agreed. "Gets me out of the apartment, I don't have a dog, " I said pointing to hers. Yes, she said, she very much agreed, seemed to be overwhelmed with gratitude for her companion. I finished my workout, and as I walked home, the bells of Riverside Church were ringing for the end of service.
Later in the day, after sunset, I watched from above, two people on the soccer field in Riverside Park, do some sort of martial art with very sharp hand movements, and a contraction and release of the core. I watched not only the way that they moved but more intently the way that one taught the other, she shadowing him one move of a form at a time, taking breaks, then starting again, and again. Just the two of them. So much love in teaching.
There are many ways to define a community. Even when going solo, there are others watching, listening, and an exchange is happening. We can give simply in our presence. And others are giving to us. Ringing bells to mark our days, sharing their gratitude, their difficulties, allowing us to enter into those or sheltering them from us, practicing their devotion in an open space for all to see and hear. Summer in New York, on a blue sky day.
I started the day with Tae Kwon Do behind Grant's Tomb. It's been awhile since an open field of grass, and open hours of time. A woman asked me about it, said it was a beautiful day, and I agreed. "Gets me out of the apartment, I don't have a dog, " I said pointing to hers. Yes, she said, she very much agreed, seemed to be overwhelmed with gratitude for her companion. I finished my workout, and as I walked home, the bells of Riverside Church were ringing for the end of service.
Later in the day, after sunset, I watched from above, two people on the soccer field in Riverside Park, do some sort of martial art with very sharp hand movements, and a contraction and release of the core. I watched not only the way that they moved but more intently the way that one taught the other, she shadowing him one move of a form at a time, taking breaks, then starting again, and again. Just the two of them. So much love in teaching.
There are many ways to define a community. Even when going solo, there are others watching, listening, and an exchange is happening. We can give simply in our presence. And others are giving to us. Ringing bells to mark our days, sharing their gratitude, their difficulties, allowing us to enter into those or sheltering them from us, practicing their devotion in an open space for all to see and hear. Summer in New York, on a blue sky day.
Saturday, July 15, 2017
New Ways to Move
There are probably more valuable and awesome reasons to live in New York that I don't know. People ask if I go to see plays, or concerts, or performances, and the answer is that sometimes I do, but not that often. It's just expensive, and sometimes it's nice to have downtime.
But it's nice to have that option. There are famous and fabulous performances happening every week. But it's also nice to have many other options, all the time. It's nice to be around such a diversity of people, to take public transit (ok, that's not always nice, but I far prefer it to cars), to have huge, beautiful parks, and lots of interesting people. And tonight, because I could, I went to a Feldenkrais class for the first time.
I've lived in my body for more than 33 years and it still always amazes me to discover it in new ways. The simple act of rolling the shoulder, lifting the head, arching the back, or curving it in new configurations opens up the marvel of what is with me all the time. And to do it slowly opens new possibilities that have been there all along but shoved underneath the pace and necessity of living habitually. As I do the lessons, often I feel like laughing in amazement. How different are the sides of my body! How can they function in remotely the same way?
Another cool thing about New York is something that many people would say is not cool: no backyards. The hidden benefit of this was explained to me by a mother and her middle school daughter. One of the things she loved about having kids in New York City was the playground culture. Because there are no backyards, kids all go to the playgrounds (and there are TONS of them), and moms are there and everyone plays with whoever else is around. It's a big mixer and a microcosm of living in the city as an adult and sharing space with others.
It also means that I can sit on a sidewalk across a street or just go for a walk and see tons of kids playing with other kids and parents interacting with them. After coming home today, it was still really nice outside, so I went to sit in the park for a bit. There was a father trying to get his 2-year-old to be interested in some older kids doing bike tricks down the banister of the park steps. I've watched these guys before and it is really cool and totally fun to see them do their tricks, but the kid was not interested at all. Still, the father tried to entice him, "Come on let's go check it out, take my hand," and would take his hand and start leading him that way until the kid would break off and go in another direction. This happened several times. I don't know how it ended because I wasn't really trying to infringe on their space, but the opposition struck me.
It seems a life-long pursuit to work in harmony, both with oneself and with others. New York has a lot of edges, and maybe because of that, it is easy to realize how flexible it asks us to be. We are constantly pushed up against others and accommodating as we share our space. But there are so many ways to move. Another thing to love about this city.
But it's nice to have that option. There are famous and fabulous performances happening every week. But it's also nice to have many other options, all the time. It's nice to be around such a diversity of people, to take public transit (ok, that's not always nice, but I far prefer it to cars), to have huge, beautiful parks, and lots of interesting people. And tonight, because I could, I went to a Feldenkrais class for the first time.
I've lived in my body for more than 33 years and it still always amazes me to discover it in new ways. The simple act of rolling the shoulder, lifting the head, arching the back, or curving it in new configurations opens up the marvel of what is with me all the time. And to do it slowly opens new possibilities that have been there all along but shoved underneath the pace and necessity of living habitually. As I do the lessons, often I feel like laughing in amazement. How different are the sides of my body! How can they function in remotely the same way?
Another cool thing about New York is something that many people would say is not cool: no backyards. The hidden benefit of this was explained to me by a mother and her middle school daughter. One of the things she loved about having kids in New York City was the playground culture. Because there are no backyards, kids all go to the playgrounds (and there are TONS of them), and moms are there and everyone plays with whoever else is around. It's a big mixer and a microcosm of living in the city as an adult and sharing space with others.
It also means that I can sit on a sidewalk across a street or just go for a walk and see tons of kids playing with other kids and parents interacting with them. After coming home today, it was still really nice outside, so I went to sit in the park for a bit. There was a father trying to get his 2-year-old to be interested in some older kids doing bike tricks down the banister of the park steps. I've watched these guys before and it is really cool and totally fun to see them do their tricks, but the kid was not interested at all. Still, the father tried to entice him, "Come on let's go check it out, take my hand," and would take his hand and start leading him that way until the kid would break off and go in another direction. This happened several times. I don't know how it ended because I wasn't really trying to infringe on their space, but the opposition struck me.
It seems a life-long pursuit to work in harmony, both with oneself and with others. New York has a lot of edges, and maybe because of that, it is easy to realize how flexible it asks us to be. We are constantly pushed up against others and accommodating as we share our space. But there are so many ways to move. Another thing to love about this city.
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