dancing with Suzy

Yesterday we found out that our dog Suzy, who will be 11 years old this summer, has a tumor on her spleen, among other things. I got the news over the telephone, and the summary is that it’s gonna be tough, but there is a fine chance of everything turning out well… Or, as well as possible in the circumstances. Once the words “it will prolong her life” are uttered, you know that you usually prolong something because it isn’t very long to begin with.

When I first heard the news, I think I took them fairly well, mostly because I didn’t know how to take them any other way. And, well, they are, in a way, the best of the many bad scenarios: Even though she’s quite spry for her age, there’s no hiding the fact that she’s still 11 years old, so I sort of knew that she could live as much as 10 or as little as 1 or 2 more years. But, I knew that only in the abstract sense – I didn’t really feel it.

Now, I feel it. A few moments ago I felt it all too well, as I looked at her sleeping on the bed, with her belly shaved for the ultrasound scan. I couldn’t help myself but cry. It’s not just that I’ve never lost someone close to me – and Suzy feels like a small sister.  It’s also the fact that with her, as with all dogs, you get unconditional love and you can do no less than give the same back – the emotions are incredibly pure and strong. And the many articles I’ve read over the years about how we overestimate our dogs’ mental abilities sound convincing until she turns to me with that smart look. With those eyes.

Your dog is this small innocent furnace of emotions with a personality, and because of that, most of all because of  that innocence, the overwhelming feeling you get is that it’s just not fair. They’re not supposed to get tumors, or have a risk of internal bleeding, or suffer in any way. She has one of those already, and the other are a real possibility.

But that’s that. So, while I thought and wrote yesterday about how we should value each dance like it’s the last, I also remembered one of the moments in my life when I’m completely present, or should I say lost in the moment: when I’m snuggling my beagle, Suzy. Now it is even more so – I am sad, but also so much happier every time I look at her.

And I haven’t danced since I got these news, and I really, really want to… need to.

The last tanda of your life

One of the things I thought about yesterday was how many years one can spend getting to know even a single song, and yet there is always a new world of meaning beyond the one we can currently sense.

An image which sometimes crossed my mind came up again: Being together with all of the wonderful people I’ve met in tango in a milonga, in some 30 or 40  or 50 years, dancing with quiet smiles of our faces. I know that I can in no way sense what those moments will be like, nor is there any point in thinking about the future in such a way, but it’s still a very exciting thought. No matter what we do in life, there’s something that we’re all building together, through which we’re all growing together, and we share it night after night, discovering all the worlds in each other – and it will go on for years and decades, until the end.

I thought about that too – one day each of us will dance our last tanda. Today we’re dancing, tomorrow we’re gone.

The only thing on my mind of after such a thought is that each dance should really be like it’s the last one ever. Carpe diem and memento mori side by side. A big lesson, if not the biggest of all; and today I got a visiting lecture.

to be continued

the world behind the song

I’ve been looking today for a version of the vals Paisaje which I heard recently at a milonga and I can’t get out of my head. I couldn’t find it, but I stumbled upon a wonderful post about this mesmerizing song and about art, tango and life.

What’s funny to me is that I remember already reading this post a few months ago, before I began to understand the vals. When I read the author’s words “[...] lately I’ve begun to think of Paisaje as possibly the most beautiful of all the tangos.” I was intrigued, but when I listened to the song, I dismissed it with a “meh”. I didn’t feel anything special about it.

Today, I still might not go so far in agreeing with him, but I can say that I completely understand him:  even though I think I’ve only “rediscovered” it a few days ago and danced to it perhaps once, Paisaje has already become possibly the most beautiful vals I’ve heard so far.

Well, what has also contributed to this is seeing the translation of the lyrics in that post. Reading them, as well as the translation of Tristeza Marina, sent chills down my spine. I can’t wait to dance to them and I wonder how understanding them a bit better will shape my dance.

At the same time, I’m aware that translations are little more than a shadow of the true meaning, but then again, you also have to learn the local slang, the cultural context…  There’s an entire universe behind those lyrics which passes me by, as I dance to the same songs I love and think I know so well…  on one small level. The entire song is always  ”there”, but you can grasp it only up (or down?) to a certain depth. The author of that post, for instance, gives a wonderful description of what he feels when he listens to Paisaje, but when he talks about the story in the song he himself concludes with “At least I think that’s what’s happening”.

I know enough basic Spanish to be able to get at least a rudimentary feel for the lyrics, and so I’m really curious now to dance to Paisaje and Tristeza Marina – what happens when you have some idea of the story behind the song?  And how much more is hidden in the lyrics?

At one point, learning Spanish seems to become an almost natural part of your tango journey. I find this so exciting, and not only because of the world of meaning that will open up, but because I know that it will lead to whole other new worlds, in the years and  decades ahead.

to be continued

Lessons from tango – the next big step, pt. 2

In the past few days I’ve been writing about focus in various forms: whether it’s concerning the way this blog has been developing, how to say no to a temptation or a bad habit because of something more important, how to create circumstances without distractions or what to do in some challenging moment.

While I knew that I was writing about a topic that I had also touched upon  in the past in various other forms, I felt it was important to do it again, and yesterday I realized why: I need to constantly practice and find ways of better applying all the lessons I think and write about here. So, even though I sometimes seem to be literally repeating the same sentences from older posts, there’s always some new detail or context which takes me further along the path of mastering this or that lesson.

Another thing I’ve also noticed happening is that I’m forgetting some of those very same details which I had written about in the past. I believe mistakes are a necessary part of learning, but at the same time they shouldn’t be repeated (a lot) more than necessary. This is to say, I don’t want to discover the same truth over and over again because I’m forgetful; instead, I want to explore that truth more and more deeply. All of this brings me to how this blog can help me a lot more in developing and applying all these lessons:

First I should read through the entire blog again, and take note of all the times I’ve written about a particular topic. In this case, I’m not sure how to strictly define the topic: it’s about how to make the right choice in the circumstances, how to stick to it and how to notice and influence those circumstances which are under your control. So, maybe it’s one big lesson or several smaller ones. I’ll figure it out once I think it through.

Second, I should write a summary of the lesson, which will at the same time be as comprehensive and as simple-to-follow as possible. This will be the lesson which I’ll currently be focusing on applying every day, and it will be posted on a distinct page.  As I write more about my experiences with it over time, I will occasionally refine the summary, and once I feel I have learned how to apply it well enough, I will focus on a new lesson. Over time I will have a number of summarized lessons which I can practice in everyday life and the various situations it throws at you.

What I like about this is that it brings together two seemingly conflicting forces of this blog: on the one hand, now I can write with a much clearer focus and purpose, while on the other hand I can also write in the moment, so to speak, about whatever inspires me or has been on my mind, but might not be connected to the current “main lesson”.

Or, that’s the entire idea, at least. This really seems like a big part of the solution I’ve had hunches about in the past, but, as always, we’ll have to see how it goes.

practicing focus, pt. 3 – focusing on practice

Lately I thought and wondered a lot about why one day I’m able to choose how to act in the circumstances around me,  but then I completely fail to do so the next. Then it hit me – it was so obvious, and yet I didn’t notice it even though it was also in the name of my posts:

It’s pretty clear that knowing something as a fact in no way automatically means that we can easily apply it in every day life. What wasn’t so obvious to me, though, is that succeeding once or twice in applying some knowledge does not mean that we have actually learnt how to apply it consistently.

I think it’s because when thinking of mental skills, we’ve learnt to look at as a part of our personality, in a very black-and-white sort of way: you can either do them or you can’t, and once you learn them, they’re learnt for good. So, while we’re practicing how to apply something we’ve thought about a lot, we must also do a meta-practice of sorts: not creating unrealistic expectations after we do it well a few times, accepting and learning from the inevitable smaller and bigger failures instead of becoming disappointed after they happen… constantly reminding ourselves that learning how to apply a mental skill is as much a process as is working out your body or learning any other skill, with all the characteristics and challenges.

Another important thing to remember: Failure sometimes simply happens, and there’s nothing you could have done about it that time. Even when you’re good at it, failure will occasionally happen. It is inevitable and it happens to the best, in each and every discipline.

There’s (always) more to say about this, but before I do, I’m going to spend some time define how: This series of posts has given me an important piece of the puzzle I’ve been mulling over lately. I hope I’ll write more about it tomorrow. If not, hey, I’ll accept it.

practicing focus, pt. 2 – being controlled by circumstances

The first part of yesterday was wonderful – I took some time just for myself to think and plan, without any sort of distractions. I was happy to see how much you can do and how well you can feel when you choose how to define those circumstances within your reach (and it’s a lot more than we think). However, in the afternoon my zen-like state of mind was completely shattered.

We were supposed to give a very short tango performance as part of one lecture on South American culture, but the entire preparation process in the past few days was a continuous test of nerves – we would be coming to rehearsals every day in which none of the organizers could precisely tell us when and how we were supposed to perform (when they showed up at the rehearsal on time, or at all) and when they actually gave us some “well-meaning advice”, it was ridiculous and personally insulting (though quite possibly the guy giving it was constantly drunk, crazy or both).

Having all of these things repeat themselves one hour before the start of the show only hit me harder. All of the performers were stressed out – we were wasting our valuable time with people who didn’t seem to respect us in the slightest.  However, seeing the lack of organization and receiving all the insults, together with the usual stage fright before any show – all of it ended up having a particularly strong effect on me. My head was burning and I could barely sit still, angry that things were turning out like this.

We did our performance and afterwards I went home in a very gloomy mood. When I thought about it a bit, I came to one simple conclusion: Even though I knew what I had to do, I again didn’t apply the lessons I talk about here so much. I should have first accepted the simple fact: you cannot influence nor are you responsible for this sad excuse for organizing. You should recognize that the insults you’ve received were coming from people who have no idea what they’re talking about – treat them like a passing noise and not like something that can hurt you.  Observe the reality as it is and choose your attitude. In this case, as I didn’t decide how to respond and act, I let the bad energy in the air push and pull me around and define my mood for me. In the end, it created an unrest in the same way that the circumstances from that morning did their wonderful magic.

This morning I had a similar situation – I wanted to repeat my hunt for zen from yesterday, but some obligations came up which meant that I couldn’t. I started to get angry, but I noticed my reaction and quickly I literally told myself aloud: “These are the circumstances, and you cannot change them. So, accept them, choose your attitude and figure out what to do next. Yes, in one hour you’ll spend around 20 minutes doing something which isn’t your responsibility. But you’ll do it, because now you have to, and after that you’ll go for your walk.”

I was amazed that once I did this, it almost instantly transformed my current mood into one of calm and readiness to act. So, why wasn’t I able to do the same yesterday?

Practicing focus, pt. 1 – controlling the circumstances

When I started writing this post, the afternoon had only just begun, but I felt like the entire day had already gone by. I got up early feeling rested (going to bed before midnight the previous night was a novel sensation) and my plan was to spend the next few hours in the park and in my favorite, quiet cafe, thinking about the now and planning for the future.

However, I wanted to create the best circumstances for this, which meant saying No to all forms of distractions: my cellphone was set so the only sound coming out of it will be the alarm which will signal it’s time to go home; I won’t hear any incoming calls or messages.  I didn’t check my email in the morning, and I won’t be checking it until the end of the walk, nor will I call or text anyone. Also, there won’t even be a need to check the time, because of the alarm.

What inspired me the most to do this was that it’s something I do every time I’m in our classes: I turn of the sound and put away my cellphone and I know that for the next 90 minutes the only thing on my mind will be tango. Nothing else will matter: any non-tango thoughts that creep in are quickly pushed away – they can only distract me from what I’m focused on, and in any case it’s not like I can really do anything about them during class.

So, the circumstances were set so that I won’t have any possible distractions for the next few hours: I will simply think until it’s time to do something else.

Soon into my walk I started getting the occasional impulse to check the time or see if I have a missed call, but it would go away as quickly as it arrived. One reason were the circumstances I set, of course, but another one soon became apparent:

Being in this undisrupted, flowing moment was creating a deep feeling of calm and enjoyment. It’s noticeably different from the emotions that envelop you in the heat of the moment, no matter whether they’re positive or negative ones. You can sense that it’ a state of mind which develops over time, gradually becoming stronger, until other thoughts simply stop coming and you’re completely immersed in the now. Suddenly you start experiencing other, simple things more intensely – I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed drinking tea so much. From this new point of view, the idea of distracting yourself seems silly, because you will lose this state which you’ve created, and no distraction is worth it.

Well, it seems I needed to find out what it feels like to jolt yourself out of it in any case: Some  two hours later I was taking a picture with my cellphone (an ongoing experiment of mine – incidentally, in this no-distractions state  I started noticing a lot more interesting scenes to photograph), and in that very moment I got a call from Milena. In that one second before my finger automatically pressed Answer, I was honestly thinking whether or not I should answer, but, you know, force of habit. Since the phone-call was a short and funny one, I thought I’d get right back into the flow I had established.

I couldn’t. I tried to pick up where I left my line of thought, but all the usual distractions started popping up: I wanted to check my email, I wondered how much time I have left… I managed to go on some more, but at one point I decided to call it quits for the day.

Still, the mellow feeling inside persisted even after I was done, until well into late afternoon. My mood was great and I thought it could only get better. Then, it all turned upside-down.

to be continued

Learning how to say No

Yesterday I started writing about the importance of focus and what I should do with this blog, and ironically I found myself thinking I won’t be able to continue writing about it today, even though that was part of the entire point. And yet, I just realized that my entire day was sprinkled with challenges that were very connected to this topic, and facing them made me appreciate more keenly something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately:

In order to be focused on something of value to you, you have to know how to say No to other things that could pull your focus away.

One of the things I value right now is my health. I decided I won’t help out in the beginners’ class today, as part of a plan to finally get some rest in the next month or two. I want to be in bed before midnight every day except weekends, and this will mean missing out on the weekday milongas and some of the classes.  I’m so tired these days that this decision now seems like an easy one, but a lot of other factors are constantly pulling me the other way.

Today’s challenge was a really sweet one. I was having dinner with a friend, and afterwards my plan was to just drop by the class in order to pick something up. Then I got a message from Milena that one high school student from a school where we did a tango presentation a few weeks ago came to class. I got very excited because I didn’t expect anyone to come (the presentation had a different purpose) and I really liked a lot of the students . Suddenly I was really looking forward to dropping by the class.

When I got there, I was instantly lifted by the positive energy in the air. The entire instructing team was there, the group which I’m more and more fond of was working as diligently as always and our new student was making his first tango steps.

The atmosphere enveloped me so quickly that suddenly I really wanted to stay till the end of class. But then I realized that this would mean breaking a deal I made with myself: if I stay, even though I’ll have a wonderful time, I’ll write this post and go to bed a lot later. So, what do I do?

The answer came soon enough: Sometimes the things that could pull your focus away are also part of some  important personal process of yours. However, you must decide on your priorities for a certain time period, and once you do, you must stick to the things that matter the most right now.

And so I went home, and now I’m finishing this post some 10 minutes before my planned bedtime. A small, but sweet victory.

to be continued

Lack of focus

While I’m happy that I’ve been able to write something on this blog every day, I’ve started to notice some of my faults creeping into it: namely, my lack of focus.

Every so often I would talk about something I should write about, either soon or the next day.  Then, the next day I couldn’t find the inspiration for it or I would simply forget about it. I’ve started a lot of topics here and number of them are still waiting for a follow-up post.

It seems like more and more ideas and lessons are piling up, but at the same time they’re not being implemented in a concrete enough way. Maybe it’s because I’m asking too much from this whole thing: you can’t write about something one day, no matter how inspired you are, and then easily apply it the next. Otherwise, pretty much nobody would have any problem in life ever. And yet, when I wrote about gradual improvement, about working on your faults daily, I really felt like I stumbled upon something important, but which I haven’t really tapped into.

In any case, I have a need to get something more from this blog, and I feel like the way towards that is through focus – something like writing about one topic for as many days as possible, trying to find deeper and deeper meaning in it, until I have really implemented the lesson I’m exploring. At the same time, however, I feel that this would greatly dilute one of the wonderful challenges of this blog – trying to create something new every day, usually with only the vaguest, if any, idea of what what I’ll write about either today or tomorrow.

Well, one thing I do feel pretty sure is that tomorrow I’ll write about this topic again, because it’s very important to me and right now I’m not sure what the best answer would be; so, I’ll sleep over it.  The night will bring council, and in any case, I really do need some rest.

small changes, big effects

In one of the classes I took at the Belgrade tango festival we learned about the evolution of tango and we tried dancing in some of the styles. The oldest one we talked about was danced in a very emphasized V embrace, with simple steps being made exclusively on the beat and only in the parallel system (no cross).  The songs we heard consisted of two guitars and a singer, and while you could feel that this will one day become the tango we all know, they still had their own specific sound.

We were supposed to dance to two or three songs in this style. I wasn’t really sure what would be the point of this, but already halfway through the first song I got a lot more than I expected. This specific embrace, music and way of dance created a sensation that was at the same time both tango and something quite different:  sentimental and romantic, simple yet so strong.

I was amazed that such a seemingly small change in the dance (though a bigger one with the music) could have such a big effect. What’s even more interesting is that on some occasions I’ve danced tango to non-tango music I like, and while it was a fun experience, it was nowhere near as memorable as this one. It really feels like even at its origins, tango evolved based on what people felt was the best way to express themselves and it was made to respond to all the pulsations within us.

Another thing which comes to mind is that this also happened because of the simplicity of the dance – as you canpretty much instantly dance in this way, your attention is not focused on a particular task (like learning some principle or sequence), but is free to explore and sense all that might bubble up in these circumstances.

Having this in mind, I wonder what things can bubble up, in tango and elsewhere, if we were to do something familiar in a slightly different way. I have a feeling like there’s a technique in there somewhere that could be used in many more situations in everyday life – if we are able to do something with focus, but at the same time with openness to whatever may come, who knows how many valuable experiences could be around the corner?