November 2024

Jumping out of a plane, capsizing in a boat, leaving home for a year at 15... none of these felt as scary in my body as performing a solo I created when I was 20. It sounds ridiculous now.

There’s a lot to unpack here. But to keep it brief: part of what made it so terrifying was revealing something I had made all alone. I had been performing for other people and with other people my whole life. But this…every choice—the costume, music, lighting design, moves, every concept of what I thought was “good”—became visible. And it made me feel completely exposed, inside out.
‍I was being seen in a way I had never quite experienced before. My nervous system registered that level of vulnerability as life-threatening. I dissociated during and when it was over, I wouldn’t leave the dressing room. Other frightening events were scary, yes, but did not register in my body the same way. The difference? Being aware of the relationships that held me.
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‍One of the things I’ve come to understand about that intense reaction is how difficult it is for me to understand myself outside the relationships that shape how I move through life. In that process of making and performing a solo, I had no sense of myself. I held a steady focus on me and my own process in isolation. No one to challenge, reflect, or encourage the choices I was making. I was alone in a studio for hours, working in secret. I couldn’t calibrate my decisions with anyone else’s perspective. I didn’t have a way to gauge the impact of what I was doing, how it landed for someone else, or what they saw in it.

‍I was lost in a commitment to my own impulses, without any awareness of who I was in the making of it. It left me in a kind of vacuum, so the experience of being seen felt deeply threatening.
I’ve learned a lot since then.
I now know I can’t really see myself clearly without being seen. Constant self-reflection on my own can even be a way to avoid confronting who I actually am. Without the shifting and bumping up against another person, its hard to know how my patterns actually move me. Let’s face it, it’s vulnerable to be who you really are when you are being seen!

‍Our impulses, patterns, and responses were formed as we developed and grew within the context of our relationships with others. Where we are limited and where we are expansive only becomes animated within the context of another person. Understanding our impact, or lack of impact requires engagement with other people.
And while it’s true everything is always part of a relationship, still, a lot of the “work” we tend to focus on revolves around the idea of how to shift myself or another.
‍I’m more interested in the change in who you are when you’re with me, and the change in who I am when I’m with you.