look good feel good
dear diary,
i just reviewed a tape of myself from yesterday. wince...
i hate the way i moved.
and yet, i feel great. more, my partners are comfortable with me.
but, ugh...
well, ok. my upper body looked decent. my legs, on the other hand, pitiful.
you want to know what's funny? lomyl told me that i and my partner looked great (live, not on the tape). she told me that with one partner, there were moments where we looked so good together that, for the first time in a long while, she felt jealous.
hmmm...
ok. i can work on this.
i just reviewed a tape of myself from yesterday. wince...
i hate the way i moved.
and yet, i feel great. more, my partners are comfortable with me.
but, ugh...
well, ok. my upper body looked decent. my legs, on the other hand, pitiful.
you want to know what's funny? lomyl told me that i and my partner looked great (live, not on the tape). she told me that with one partner, there were moments where we looked so good together that, for the first time in a long while, she felt jealous.
hmmm...
ok. i can work on this.
Dear Santa
Dear Santa,
I have been a very good boy this year. I brushed my teeth every day. I took out the trash. I clean the bathroom every week (except when Lomyl was away). I drove responsibly and carefully, even though sometimes I wanted to yell at the knuckleheads on the road. I ate organic food as much as I could.
As you know (of course you do, you are Santa Claus!), I am a sucker for gizmos. And, well, this bicycle (I am sending you a Youtube video, just in case) is simply the most-coolest-awesomest bicycle E. V. E. R. You know how it's such a pain-in-the-butt to carry all those full-sized bicycles in your bag? Well, not this one. Anyway, I am hoping that you have noticed my being good this entire year, and, gosh, I would be so happy if I could have the coolest bike on the block.
With much love and adoration,
Me.
getting better, or not
me: "how did it feel dancing with me?"
follower: "great. this was true even a year ago."
me: "... have i gotten better? ... i mean, well, i can't dance with myself..."
--
lomyl and i have been talking a lot about the changes (tango) in ourselves. i gripe often that i don't know how i have evolved and transformed in this discipline, the tango.
in the early years of my training in judo, i never felt any improvements. every night that i played, i got whumped by the black belts. and then, just as i thought that i was getting better (it would take longer for the whumping to happen), as if they were teasing me all along, i would get my ass kicked again. of course, that was exactly what was going on. the good players, the good teachers, they played just enough for me to understand what was going on. and then, when i did improve, they simply kicked it up a notch. it would be the same ordeal, all over again.
sensei tells me this story: his younger brother was in an elite college judo program in Japan. in the company of these world-class athletes, he was powerless against them. he felt deflated, and wondered whether he belonged. sensei told him to wait until he competed against another school. sure enough, beat the crap out of his opponents.
am i getting better, in the tango?
follower: "great. this was true even a year ago."
me: "... have i gotten better? ... i mean, well, i can't dance with myself..."
--
lomyl and i have been talking a lot about the changes (tango) in ourselves. i gripe often that i don't know how i have evolved and transformed in this discipline, the tango.
in the early years of my training in judo, i never felt any improvements. every night that i played, i got whumped by the black belts. and then, just as i thought that i was getting better (it would take longer for the whumping to happen), as if they were teasing me all along, i would get my ass kicked again. of course, that was exactly what was going on. the good players, the good teachers, they played just enough for me to understand what was going on. and then, when i did improve, they simply kicked it up a notch. it would be the same ordeal, all over again.
sensei tells me this story: his younger brother was in an elite college judo program in Japan. in the company of these world-class athletes, he was powerless against them. he felt deflated, and wondered whether he belonged. sensei told him to wait until he competed against another school. sure enough, beat the crap out of his opponents.
am i getting better, in the tango?
aging
(This must have been in the early 1990s...)
I watched my friend, who was probably 50 years old, fight against an opponent who was probably no older than 20, at a prestigious tournament, a warm-up for the Olympic games. My friend was a member of his country's Olympic team in 1980, but could not compete because of the boycott. Anyway, at the beginning the match, the two were evenly matched, but it was clear that the young one was stronger, and would out-last my friend, who was fading. I could see the determination in his eyes, the will to win, only to be betrayed by his body.
This was the context to what has been in my head even now, many years later. Next to me was a well-known judoka, who openly criticized my friend for competing. She said, "He has no business being on the mat. He is too old and should quit."
Objectively, she was absolutely right.
For a couple of weeks, I have been posting status messages on Facebook, lamenting my body's entry into the second half of my life, a perfect excuse to buy cool gadgets.
I feel sluggish, both physically and intellectually. On both fronts, I am pushing, conditioning, forcing myself to become my former self. I can see the trap that I have set for myself. Of course, we can never return to the past, our past. But, oh is it ever so enticing...
When I mentioned to a colleague that I could no longer execute a judo move, he asked what do people do as they age, do they play dirty? I responded, "sacrifice throws."
I watched my friend, who was probably 50 years old, fight against an opponent who was probably no older than 20, at a prestigious tournament, a warm-up for the Olympic games. My friend was a member of his country's Olympic team in 1980, but could not compete because of the boycott. Anyway, at the beginning the match, the two were evenly matched, but it was clear that the young one was stronger, and would out-last my friend, who was fading. I could see the determination in his eyes, the will to win, only to be betrayed by his body.
This was the context to what has been in my head even now, many years later. Next to me was a well-known judoka, who openly criticized my friend for competing. She said, "He has no business being on the mat. He is too old and should quit."
Objectively, she was absolutely right.
For a couple of weeks, I have been posting status messages on Facebook, lamenting my body's entry into the second half of my life, a perfect excuse to buy cool gadgets.
I feel sluggish, both physically and intellectually. On both fronts, I am pushing, conditioning, forcing myself to become my former self. I can see the trap that I have set for myself. Of course, we can never return to the past, our past. But, oh is it ever so enticing...
When I mentioned to a colleague that I could no longer execute a judo move, he asked what do people do as they age, do they play dirty? I responded, "sacrifice throws."
courtesy
(overheard this just after a song has ended)
one leader to another leader: "i am sorry we tried to kill you."
(spontaneous laughter)
one leader to another leader: "i am sorry we tried to kill you."
(spontaneous laughter)
the box
after about five minutes of sparring, the beginner was frustrated that he could not do anything with me...
student: "i don't know what to do."
me: "you are fighting well. your grip fight is good. but, you are spending all your time worrying about the grip, instead of attacking me."
few minutes later...
me: "fantastic. now i am worried about your attacks."
student: "but i am still not getting anywhere."
me: "well, your attacks are fine. but, to me, it feels like everything you do is confined within this box around you. and i am not in that box."
---
i am constantly giddy over the similarities of the different worlds that i live. in the tango, what can be better than the moment when my partner and i are together in our cocoon?
student: "i don't know what to do."
me: "you are fighting well. your grip fight is good. but, you are spending all your time worrying about the grip, instead of attacking me."
few minutes later...
me: "fantastic. now i am worried about your attacks."
student: "but i am still not getting anywhere."
me: "well, your attacks are fine. but, to me, it feels like everything you do is confined within this box around you. and i am not in that box."
---
i am constantly giddy over the similarities of the different worlds that i live. in the tango, what can be better than the moment when my partner and i are together in our cocoon?
don't they know
dear diary,
i can't take it A. N. Y. M. O. R. E !!!!
these "men" who teach on the floor, who tell their partners where and how to drape/drag/lift/pull/swing//////// their bodies.
don't they know how idiotic they look? don't they know how foolish they look? i mean, i am a guy, and i can't stand it...
once, i asked a woman to dance. she said, "i am a beginner. will you teach me?" i said, "i am sorry, i am not qualified. i can't teach you. if you would like to dance, i would love that." we did not dance.
... you know what? i enjoy the company of these "men." it's just that... something happens to them when they are on the dance floor, and they just have to open their big fat mouths. argh!
i have bad bad thoughts, like, is is how they have sex?
--
i wish... well, in judo, if you open your mouth, you better be able to back it up. once, a brown-belt (almost black-belt) was "showing" a white-belt (total beginner) how to do a move. i happen to know that the white-belt was in fact a wrestling champion and an olympian. while the brown-belt talked, the white-belt was courteous and quiet. then it was time to spar. white-belt whumped, and i mean WHUMPED WHUMPED WHUMPED the brown-belt so hard and so fast, that if brown-belt had a tail, it would have been between his shaky legs.
if only whumping were allowed in the tango...
i can't take it A. N. Y. M. O. R. E !!!!
these "men" who teach on the floor, who tell their partners where and how to drape/drag/lift/pull/swing//////// their bodies.
don't they know how idiotic they look? don't they know how foolish they look? i mean, i am a guy, and i can't stand it...
once, i asked a woman to dance. she said, "i am a beginner. will you teach me?" i said, "i am sorry, i am not qualified. i can't teach you. if you would like to dance, i would love that." we did not dance.
... you know what? i enjoy the company of these "men." it's just that... something happens to them when they are on the dance floor, and they just have to open their big fat mouths. argh!
i have bad bad thoughts, like, is is how they have sex?
--
i wish... well, in judo, if you open your mouth, you better be able to back it up. once, a brown-belt (almost black-belt) was "showing" a white-belt (total beginner) how to do a move. i happen to know that the white-belt was in fact a wrestling champion and an olympian. while the brown-belt talked, the white-belt was courteous and quiet. then it was time to spar. white-belt whumped, and i mean WHUMPED WHUMPED WHUMPED the brown-belt so hard and so fast, that if brown-belt had a tail, it would have been between his shaky legs.
if only whumping were allowed in the tango...
dance with me
i have always wanted to spontaneously jump up and dance with my best friends... just because.
a couple of years ago, lomyl and i were at new york's penn station, having rushed there, and then missing the train. i was upset that we had to wait for the next train. she was upset that i rushed her. bad bad bad!!!! i took out my ipod, connected our headphones to it, and we danced in the corridor until our hearts spoke to each other again.
the perfect lead
(i overheard this...)
leader: "did you do that because i led you or because i told you i was going to do it?"
---
(meanwhile, in a distant galaxy...)
follower: "i don't know what you are doing, but it feels great."
leader: "did you do that because i led you or because i told you i was going to do it?"
---
(meanwhile, in a distant galaxy...)
follower: "i don't know what you are doing, but it feels great."
selfish
dear diary,
last night was fantastic!
fantastic fantastic fantastic!
moments of epiphany.
a conversation that led to deep insights about myself.
...
i was worried about my back. in close embrace, if the connection is not quite right, my back takes the hit. to look good, to maintain the posture, the line, the flow, despite the strain of an awkward contact, it all goes to my back. and i had been in pain.
as much as i love to dance CE, i just went for OE if i could not. and the dances were, well, sublime.
...
often, lomyl and i talked about the need to be selfish. what a "bad" word this is. but if we can't take care of ourselves, who would? i was born into a culture where sacrifice and compromise were virtues. to think that i would do something because I, ME ME ME, wanted to do it, for my own pleasure, was simply unthinkable.
more than the CE versus OE (which was a simple manifestation), there were other thing too, like, not feeling guilty about averting eye contact. last night, it was about what i wanted. the clarity of this "selfishness" overpowered me. in our many conversations, lomyl and i talked about "taking care of myself." and yet, it had always been an intellectual exercise, some kind of abstract notion that "this would be good for me."
i finally felt it, my body finally understood. an evolution from the cerebral to the visceral. joy!
i still don't know HOW to be selfish. i just, in that moment, in the laboratory that is the tango, knew that it would be a good thing.
last night was fantastic!
fantastic fantastic fantastic!
moments of epiphany.
a conversation that led to deep insights about myself.
...
i was worried about my back. in close embrace, if the connection is not quite right, my back takes the hit. to look good, to maintain the posture, the line, the flow, despite the strain of an awkward contact, it all goes to my back. and i had been in pain.
as much as i love to dance CE, i just went for OE if i could not. and the dances were, well, sublime.
...
often, lomyl and i talked about the need to be selfish. what a "bad" word this is. but if we can't take care of ourselves, who would? i was born into a culture where sacrifice and compromise were virtues. to think that i would do something because I, ME ME ME, wanted to do it, for my own pleasure, was simply unthinkable.
more than the CE versus OE (which was a simple manifestation), there were other thing too, like, not feeling guilty about averting eye contact. last night, it was about what i wanted. the clarity of this "selfishness" overpowered me. in our many conversations, lomyl and i talked about "taking care of myself." and yet, it had always been an intellectual exercise, some kind of abstract notion that "this would be good for me."
i finally felt it, my body finally understood. an evolution from the cerebral to the visceral. joy!
i still don't know HOW to be selfish. i just, in that moment, in the laboratory that is the tango, knew that it would be a good thing.
honeymoon is over
dear diary,
i suppose this was inevitable. still, i wonder whether it is really a bunch of other things, and not at all the fading away of my glee.
last night was not fun. instead of ebullience (or, what passes for it, with my usual stoic demeanor), i felt tired, bored, uninspired, blah blah blah.
lomyl is away again, and as usual, i am out (practically) every night to every milonga, to be with people.
some time ago, lomyl tells me that we go through cycles of bliss, then an awareness of the "truth" in each other, then, a decision to re-accept our partner, to renew, to re-affirm, to find new depths and richness in our connection.
i think that i have finally, after two years (wow, not bad, really, a two-year-long honeymoon), allowed myself to experience some "truths." and now, i suppose, i will see if i can (or will, or want to) accept and embrace the tango, again.
unhappy...
i suppose this was inevitable. still, i wonder whether it is really a bunch of other things, and not at all the fading away of my glee.
last night was not fun. instead of ebullience (or, what passes for it, with my usual stoic demeanor), i felt tired, bored, uninspired, blah blah blah.
lomyl is away again, and as usual, i am out (practically) every night to every milonga, to be with people.
some time ago, lomyl tells me that we go through cycles of bliss, then an awareness of the "truth" in each other, then, a decision to re-accept our partner, to renew, to re-affirm, to find new depths and richness in our connection.
i think that i have finally, after two years (wow, not bad, really, a two-year-long honeymoon), allowed myself to experience some "truths." and now, i suppose, i will see if i can (or will, or want to) accept and embrace the tango, again.
unhappy...
when it hurts
dear diary,
what do i do when my back hurts because of the follower? i know i know it could be me. so, what if the connection with a follower results in a painful experience?
sigh. i really hate it when i avoid eye contact because i know the dance could be painful. i want to be social; i want to have conversations; i want to feel like i can be friendly, when i don't feel like dancing.
what do i do when my back hurts because of the follower? i know i know it could be me. so, what if the connection with a follower results in a painful experience?
sigh. i really hate it when i avoid eye contact because i know the dance could be painful. i want to be social; i want to have conversations; i want to feel like i can be friendly, when i don't feel like dancing.
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