Overcoming the 'How'.

As I traversed the eastern Alps last year, I started and finished Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. 

My uncertain future loomed beyond those rugged and regal mountains. My career prospects were, in the best sense of the word, non-existent, and I was running out of unemployment support from the government. On the bright side, I knew what I wanted to do with the next stage of my life but I had no idea how I was going to do it. Then, almost like he knew what was going on in my head, Frankl quoted Nietzsche: 

"He who has a why to live can overcome any how."

Piz Boe in the Dolomites

Once we were back home, I decided to contact some people who had inspired me during my dance career, and one of them was Christina Mertzani (read my last blog post) She graciously agreed to have a video chat with me and gave me great advice on how to start on this new path I had chosen. One of them really resonated with me and was so aligned with both Nietzsche and Frankl: before going down this road, I needed to know why I wanted to. 

It certainly hasn't been easy so far, and I've had moments in the last couple of weeks when I considered throwing in the towel and just doing something else. The pandemic didn't help because I had to cancel so many of my tryout classes and everything had come to a staggering halt. At times like these, it's easy to feel defeated, so it's more important than ever to know my reasons for pushing on and to keep working towards my goals. This blog post is more for me than anyone else, and serves as a reminder to continue, even when the going gets tough.

Here's a list of 10 of my whys:

1. Drawing out the Genius

Our external conditions such as body type, geographic situation, community and financial standing tend to determine where, when and how we train, which companies we work in, how famous we become etc. However, there is a creative spirit in each one of us, which I shall call the genius. From the outside, this seems limited to big companies and well-known choreographers and artists, but I have experienced it in big and small ways with every creative (and non-creative) person I have ever worked with. What hinders the development of this genius are our own doubts and fears, our personal definition of success, comparing ourselves to others and worrying about what they think.

It might be impossible, but I want to be someone who can help people discover this thing that resides within them. I don't know how to do it yet, and it might never find out, but I want to make it my mission to try. Every artist deserves the right to express herself, whether or not society considers it to be good or bad. With guidance, encouragement, trust and patience the genius can emerge. 

A few years ago I gave a workshop to a group of kids under 15, which ended with a little performance for the parents. There was a little red-haired girl in this group. She was a typical bright eyed and sweet middle-class 12 year-old German girl, at least at first glance. There was nothing really special about her, nothing that set her apart from the others. 

I chose her to dance the 'main part' to see what would happen, and her whole person changed. She came out of her shell and transformed into a performer, displaying a kind of raw creativity that really impressed me and everyone else in the room. It made me feel so proud, and all I did was give her a chance!

By making this my main reason to pursue this path, I hope to unlock the genius within myself.

2. In Service of Others

I've spent most of life until now learning how to look after myself, dancing for my own pleasure, and working hard to be the best at what I do, trying to find happiness and fulfillment along the way. Since retiring from dance, I feel a strong desire to give back to this wonderful industry that I have taken and learned so much from.

I still want to be happy and fulfilled like the next person, but I would like to use the skills and the expertise that I have developed to help others reach their own goals. Sure, there are plenty of people and animals who need support and kindness in this crazy and sometimes harsh world, but charity begins at home, right? 

3. Appreciation for Leadership Positions

As a dancer, I never really paid much attention to the amount of work that my directors, teachers, managers or rehearsal assistants put in to support us. As a young dancer, I was really focused on what I was doing and it was easier to blame them for things that were not working and to complain about how annoying or childish they were. I didn't see the countless extra hours they spent in the office to keep the company or school running. Thinking about it now, I don't know where they found the time to be well-adjusted human beings!

This path will give me a deeper appreciation for what dance teachers and leaders are doing. I understand now how much time and energy goes into preparing a good class, with the intention to support dancers, knowing well that you will be met with tired and sometimes grumpy people in the studio, and that you can't make everybody happy. This doesn't even include organisation in the office, rehearsals and a personal life if you're lucky!

4.  Re-learning how to Dance

This might seem like a strange one, since I don't plan on dancing anymore, but I've noticed in the last couple of months that I've learned so much more about dance by having to find a way to explain what I want from the dancers, trying my best to demonstrate properly, to remember the exercises and combinations and to pay attention to many things at the same time. 

Isn't it funny how life works?

5. Healing my Wounds

I don't know many dancers who didn't go through some hard times during their training or career. Harsh words, abusive teachers, eating disorders, depression, self-loathing, racism and favouritism, and I'm just mentioning things that I have been through. As it usually happens, good leaders tend to consciously base their philosophy around solving these problems and breaking the cycle of negative experiences. Leaders with a lack of awareness treat others the same way they were treated when they were dancers themselves. This is my opinion based on what I've observed.

What's really important for me is to see dancers as humans first, then employees. When I was a dancer, my superiors were rarely there for me in my darkest moments. In fact, I felt like they tried to avoid me as much as they could. I was taught that I just had to leave my emotions at the door and harden the fuck up, because being vulnerable was a sign of weakness, especially for a man. Part of my mission is to be there for them and make sure they know that they're not alone. I'm not going to fix their problems, or mother them, but I want to give them the feeling that they can ask for help if they need it. 

One of my first tryout classes in Theater Lüneburg

6. Finding a Balance

As much as it's important for me to bring a positive energy into the studio, I need to still have the strength and authority to guide a class or a rehearsal. I don't believe that I need to be an asshole to get what I want, and it probably wouldn't work if I tried, but I don't want people to think they can walk all over me. I naturally have an assertive quality, probably because of some control-issues and mild OCD, but I hope to find a balance between my kind human side, and someone people can trust to be a leader.

7. Contolling the Ego

I know it can be a thankless job, so it's crucial to learn how to not take things personally. People will expect a lot, and more often than not my efforts are likely to go unappreciated. Praise and recognition are not the goals, the results will show in the development of those I am trying to support.

Of course it's not as easy as that; it's human nature to want the feeling of significance. It's impossible to be completely ego-less, but it's possible to build more awareness of it.

8. Understanding Humans

I've never been one to enjoy going to parties or socialising, even with people I know. I am an introvert true and true. In my eyes, other humans are best experienced in small doses.

However, if I don't make the effort to get to know people and to find out what drives or inspires them, then what right do I have to judge or criticise or even help them? In Ray Dalio's book, Principles, he talks about the importance of regular feedback and radical openmindedness. How can I even begin to discover a person's genius if I judge them only by what I see on the surface?

This has been, and will continue to be challenging for me, but stepping out of my comfort zone has always been rewarded.

9. The 'Art' of Ballet Master-ing

It's easy to fall into the trap of seeing anything we do professionally as just a job. There will be mundane tasks, endless check-lists, and hours in the studio where time seems to stand still. I would like to discover how this 'job' can also be an artform in itself. I have worked with a number of rehearsal directors and ballet masters, each one with his own style, personality, priorities and egocentricities. Some were more effective than others, but I learned something from each one. 

I would like to discover and continuously develop my own art.

10. Forever a Student

When you teach something, you learn it twice as they say. I've found that having a beginner's mindset has allowed me to become more curious about my craft. I don't and can't possibly know everything and staying inquisitive will push me to think outside the box, keep asking questions, not get complacent and always be learning. 

There is always something to learn, and we do it every day whether we're aware of it or not. Every experience teaches you some kind of lesson, especially the hard times and the mistakes. Having a childlike view of the world will also help me to get over the failures and keep on being curious.

***

When I realised it was time to stop dancing full-time, I knew that the next step could have been anything. As long as I was willing to put in the hard work, be patient and accept that I had to start from zero, I would make it work out at some point. I considered several options, including opening my own cafe or even studying to become a psychotherapist. 

After completing my last dance contract last year, an opportunity came up to apply for a rehearsal assistant position in the city I was living in. I thought I would just give it a try, I had nothing to lose. Being there on the other side of the studio made me fall in love with dance again, I can't really explain it. Something clicked, and suddenly I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I really thought I would be leaving dance for good. 

Long story short, I didn't get the job, but the more classes I taught as a guest teacher, the more convinced I was that this was my next step in life. I started to dream about all the ways I could support dancers and choreographers and to encourage the best out of each one of them. I haven't felt this pull in many years, not since I wanted to become a professional dancer.

In Cal Newport's book So Good They Can't Ignore You, he mentions that happiness at work has less to do with passion and more to do with mastery through deliberate practice. I'm nowhere near being a master, but I'm ready to put my head down and work as hard as I can to get there. It took me almost a decade of constant work to find myself and my own artistic expression as a dancer, so I'll give myself another decade to become the leader that I want to be. That's my purpose for now.

I'll read this again in 10 years. 

What are your whys?