Leadership

True leadership isn’t about power and force. It is about communication, awareness of the strength of each individual, the ability to recognize and use the skills of the other, and the choice to work together. This remains true in life, relationships, and dance.

I’ve been preparing for my next ballroom competition this Friday. Since last year, I’ve learned a lot technically and about the interpersonal forces of a ballroom partnership. I’ve been trying to gain an understanding on what separates a decent team from an extraordinary one. One aspect is the “lead/follow” relationship.

In ballroom, if a guy is leading correctly and the woman is fully embracing her role, the lead disappears. You don’t even notice him. Likewise, a great leader can be recognized by what they leave behind, how they have trained others and encouraged others to be their best, to the point that they almost disappear. How would a company look if the leaders were that selfless?

As I’ve gotten more involved in the process I realize how far removed the woman’s role in dance is from the typical “follow around like a little puppy” view. The perceptions I hear from women who dance are either: they think they can’t follow because they can't give up control, or the alternative: they completely surrender to the guy’s lead, he gets to decide everything and they just get to look pretty. Both are far from the reality of an exceptional dance partnership. The woman determines, chooses, and controls a number of aspects in a dance. This is intentional. As women in dance, we are active contributors.

There is so much to concentrate on in dancing, the pair splits up the duties. If I, as a woman, was so busy wondering what move to do next, I wouldn’t be able to hear the intricacies of the music. We would move around the dance floor and it would look fine, but it lacks that extra piece to make it exceptional. Likewise, if the guy had to worry about swelling with the mood of the music, he wouldn’t be able to steer us away from hitting another couple as we turned. We split up the aspects of dance and respect each other's authority in the matter.

The women controls the musicality, not just for herself, but for the couple. It is true that allowing the guy to lead allows for the women to be more passionate and beautiful individually. But it also allows the guy to be the same. Depending on the music, when my partner leads a particular move I can hold it a fraction of a second longer than he expected, filling up the space and time. Taking a deep breath and holding it for just a little before releasing. A good lead will sense this and pause with me. In that way I help him dance the music rather than just going through motions. If he had to focus on both, we wouldn’t be able to move. He gives up the right to determine the breath and flow of the dance to the woman.

It isn’t about the guy doing all the work and I just get to float around looking pretty. I am a dynamic part in the partnership. For example, when turning in closed hold, the woman is in change of stopping the movement at the right time. This takes so much strength both in mind awareness of where the couple is as a unit, as well as, strength in body. Hello core workout.

The woman is also in charge of the connection. The man’s frame has to stay constant. If he is worried about making sure we are connected I wouldn’t be able to tell if his arm twitching is a lead or reestablishing the connection. Therefore, it is the women who determines how much connection to have, how much tension to create and ultimately how much power the couple will have on the floor. In any couple, dance or relationship, some tension is good. It is the women who chooses and controls how much tension to create. Too submissive and the couple has no power, too aggressive and the body contact is lost. The correct amount of tension creates a power that allows really good couples to float across the dance floor.

The graceful power doesn’t happen if the woman is weak, if she is hesitating, if she is just letting the man go wherever he wants. It’s like a rubber band. It can be floopy, break if pulled to tight, or it can stretch and pull and snap back into place. In a dance couple I pull away from my partner while remaining completely attached. In fact, I now dance in true closed hold which means my dance partner and I are touching from the bottom of my rib cage to my belly button at all times (in smooth dances). But I am pressing into him and away from him at the same time creating tension. It is that contradiction of being attached but pressure that allows for power, that allows us to know where each others bodies are, and for him to direct us on the floor.

Force the guy to lead, question him, don’t just follow blindly. This is where women get upset in dancing. They give all the power to the guy. Why? Because he determines where you stand on the floor? That is just a part, albeit an important part when dancing in competitions with 10 other couples on the floor. When he starts to lead a turn the woman doesn’t crumble into it. Instead she takes an extra fraction of a second still going the way she was headed until that ideal tension spot. This does two things: It forces the guy to be a stronger lead, to be sure of where he is going. It also creates the pull required to gain sharpness and control for a turn. Emotionally, both are reminded that she is strong, that she actively has to agree if the partnership is going to work.

I'll post videos once the competition is done!

Planning

I'm more of a big picture type of gal. I get ideas and want to jump right away. To be detail oriented is doable, but it takes a lot of mental power (and usually a lot of lists preferably on giant purple post-its). This means that I am sometimes, okay always, disorganized. For example, this weekend I left an extra shirt out in the snow. I'm a sanguine personality type, so spontaneity and "ready, fire, aim" are fine strategies for me because most things just seem to end up working out. And if something doesn't go as planned at least it makes a great story.

Recently a lot of situations are in the planning stages, things that I can't just leap into immediately with an optimistic hope for the best. Instead I have to plan, debate, practice, or otherwise strategize in order to make it work.

1) My dance competition is coming up in about three weeks. I'm doing seven routines at a Bronze II or Silver I level. There are two parts to a dance routine: feeling the music and technical expertise. I can do either individually but put them together and a clash occurs. So right now is the practice stage.

2) I've been hanging out in this country for too long. Granted, I've been taking mini weekend vacations so I haven’t just been sitting at home. Still, it's time to get on a plane and travel. The next place I want to go, Australia, doesn't lend itself to an extended weekend on the spur of the moment. Unlike my past two international vacations where I decided about a week before boarding the plane, Australia, and then Antarctica, takes a bit more time to figure out the details. Right now I am planning and trying to save money. I also might get my scuba certification before I leave. Scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef would be amazing.

3) Recently I completed a Wellness Cleanse which significantly altered what I eat. Before doing this cleanse I never read ingredients or thought about what I ingest. Having to plan meals out ahead of time was a challenge, especially as my cooking skills involve omelets, grilled cheese, and pasta from a box none of which was allowed during the 21 days. Even though officially done with the cleanse, I have kept up with some of the recommendations. Although I did a spectacular job this past weekend falling off the wagon complete with celebratory cupcake, a walking/eating tour of DC, tequila tasting, and a dinner of candy.

4) A few weeks ago I won the International Speech contest at my Toastmasters Club and last night won the next level (the Area 42 contest)! Now I am gearing up for the Division D competition in April, meaning once again I have to plan out and develop my speech. At each level of the competition, I will give the same speech but the intention is to take feedback and make improvements each time.



Last night I was keenly aware of how similar my hand motions, voice inflection, and mannerisms are to my mom. Almost creepy in the similarity. But she is a published writer and an entertaining, compassionate storyteller. Emulating her is a compliment. I’ll post a video of my speech after I get as far as I can in the competition. Working towards Vegas!

Also congrats to Rafay for winning the Area 42 Evaluation Contest.

Intention

I’ve been thinking about living with intention this month. The things I do, how I spend my time and money, what I eat. There is a lot of my life that I coast through. The brain likes to put things in boxes and there are benefits to that process. That’s why for a toddler every four-legged furry animal is the family dog. If we had to consciously take every breath or every step we wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything else. At the same time being mindful of our connection to our breath, ourselves, and others has a very calming effect and can provide the environment for inspirational breakthroughs.

I make new years resolutions every year. And every year they are more or less the same ones. Keep my room clean, improve my handwriting, eat right, exercise more, save more… the normal ones. But all of those come from a place of not being enough. That there is an ideal ‘self’ I am forever falling short. I write my resolutions and don’t look at them again until a year or two later to see how many I kept. I can’t think of a single one.

On the flip side are the goals that I make throughout my life, not from a place of shortcomings to be overcome but from a place of completeness with a motivation of being more. For example being 27 would be the best year of my life and I’ve worked at making it so. Then there is the goal to touch every continent by the time I am 30. Baring any unforeseen crisis, or even in spite of them, I have a loose plan to accomplish this. Getting involved in a voluntourism agency in some fashion (still working out the details of that one).

Why make goals at all? I like the idea of self-improvement and the idea of stagnation feels grimy. And goals are easier to keep if they are written out, spoken, or otherwise given authority. Just because the road is difficult doesn’t mean you should give up. I’ve started to be intentional even about what goals I set. Goals that you actually want to meet take energy and risk to accomplish. Even those goals made that you don’t want to accomplish still take emotional energy and focus away from other things. If the motivation comes from anywhere but me, I don’t bother making it.

Chill

The past few months have been very full of events. The marathon, dance practice gearing up for another competition in the spring, and starting my AFP program in Skydiving. It leads to an amazingly full life… and also stress fractures. The past four weeks I have been forced to change how I live my life with varying degrees of success. Unable to dance, jump, or even walk quickly.

I love all of the things I do but what do I miss by rushing around? A couple weekends ago I got to see the inside of the Washington Monument in DC. There are 897 stairs but also an elevator. I would love to know how they inserted it after the monument was built. Along the inside are 193 blocks given by states, cities, and other entities to honor our first president. The alternative, less altruistic, motive was to provide the stones when funding ran out. They are completely unseen from the outside. There are hidden treasures all over if you slow down enough to see them.

While in DC I also had my first official at-a-spa massage. The timing was perfect as I adjust to learning to slow down. (Plus it's a DayZero item) I’m one of the only people I know of who tenses up at a massage and have to continually be told to relax. I was a lot more successful in this one than in past mini massages after facials.

My favorite part of the Pixar film ‘Up’ is the girl’s adventure book. Ellie loves adventure and has a scrapbook where she records everything. In the end, it turns out she saw her whole life as an adventure shared with her childhood friend who became her husband, even though she never got to build the house on Paradise Falls. It is a sweet, endearing part of the movie. I think about it a lot as I go flying around the world. Is adventure really about the things I do? Or is it rather more about my approach and attitude towards all aspects of life? And the type of people I choose to fill my life with? There can be adventure in the quiet moments of life too. Granted, as soon as the doctor says I can, I am back on the dance floor and in the sky. Being chill can only last for so long.

Addiction

Ever since my first tandem skydive, I've developed a bit of an addiction to the sport. To clarify: I'm willing to sleep in a tent in 30 mile and hour winds, travel for hours on buses, sleep on a bench along side homeless men talking to themselves, spend whole weekends staring at the sky hoping for sun, all for the chance of getting up in the sky and jumping out of a "perfectly good airplane".

After your first skydive each jump has certain skills to demonstrate. There is a set progression baby-stepping your way to fully jumping on your own, getting your a-license, and being known as a fun-jumper. Yes, we do this for fun.

By the third windy day attempting to dive, I was so tired of sitting on the ground; all I wanted to do was jump. One of the instructors understood this need and took me up in a tandem so that I could at least fly. In addition, while on a commercial airline I stared out the window wishing I had a parachute. Now, this might not be understandable to a majority of people but among those who frequent dropzones every weekend, no other response would make sense. After numerous wind delays where it was not safe for me to try and land on my own, this weekend I’ve finally officially begun my AFP training. That means I have my own parachute, jump out of the plane with an instructor next to me but not attached by a harness, and once I pull, I am under canopy on my own including landing. Just as scary and amazing as it sounds.

It’s hard to put into words why I ended up being so obsessed with skydiving. I’ve heard stories of how people from all different backgrounds found diving. There are social hobby divers like myself, those who do this for a job, complete with all the benefits and frustrations of any job, and those who have found freedom and, in a way, salvation in diving.

Skydivers are an interesting lot. They literally put their life on the line in order to fully live it. Certain traits like risk taking, a fondness for travel, few physical attachments, and the willingness to do anything for a story are typical. My stories of petting a cheetah and leaving for a two week international trip with four days preparation are usually unique. But on the dropzone the response beomes “I’ve done that” or at least something similar. One thing I love is never having to defend myself or my choices to divers. They get it. I’ve yet to hear that I’m crazy. In that way I’ve found kindred spirits in the diving community. Now along with any niche community they do have their quirks but are charming all the same.

The thing that has surprised me the most while training is the control over almost all aspects, even when falling at 120 miles per hour. Depending on body position, a skydiver can move faster, slower, left, right, turn, flip, basically moving in all directions of a three dimensional space. At each level there are different tasks to demonstrate control over. While focusing on each these, I find that the whole idea of the ground coming towards me disappears.

The idea of consuming concentration is one of the many reasons I like skydiving. The body still responds with a flight or fight response and you have to push past that to be completely in the moment, eventually using the body’s response to your advantage. Even instructors and divers with hundreds of jumps get butterflies. I noticed each person had a way of centering themselves before the door of the plane opened. A brief moment of closing the eyes and breathing, visualizing the jump ahead.

I also like the clear cut sense of success. If you get up and walk away from the dive it was successful. Even with things to improve (arch position ;)) the dive is an accomplishment. The most dangerous diver is the one who thinks they have nothing to improve. Diving simplifies priorities. The most important thing is to pull (in a stable position). Whatever else you do in the air don’t forget that step.

I also like the personal responsibility aspect to the success of skydiving. Skydiving for me is a very individual thing. I have to make the decision to leave the plane. And I determine how much preparation I give to each jump. My new friend, M, has a great outlook on life and diving. She shared about the significance of consequences and taking responsibility in diving and therefore life. When we jump out of the plane we have to accept the consequences of our decisions. That includes accountability to learn correct maneuvers, how to get out of malfunctions, and what we want to accomplish.

My other friend, I, recently completed his certification jumps and graduated from AFP. Having someone to talk to who is only a handful of jumps ahead of me is great because we can vent the struggles and frustrations from learning a whole new skill set, give encouragement when dives don’t go quite as planned (because they won’t always), share in the excitement and glow from a successful dive, and enable and shamelessly encourage each other’s addictions to this sport. Though to be perfectly honest, the competitive side of me wishes that I could spend a week diving and get my A-license before him.

Even if all of this makes very little sense, I highly recommend adding skydiving at least once to any sort of life list you create. I’ll always be willing to go along.

Rain

At what age do we decide that rain ruins a picnic? In the rain everyone treks into work with scowls on their faces. Except a this little girl about five years old. She had cute little ladybug boots, with a matching raincoat and umbrella that instead of covering her head she twirled around. Rain meant it was time to play, just as sun means its time to play.

Years ago, while vacationing in Disney, it started to rain. I forget whether Aimee or Rob started playing in the rain first but soon the three of us where slipping and sliding around, getting completely soaked. Back under the awning, my parents were receiving dirty looks from all the other parents whose children wanted to join us. My parents say they endured the looks because we were too old to disciple, but I think they understand the need to play.

The subways are always grumpy places when it is raining. Filling a tiny space with a bunch of wet people who have decided that the rain messed up their plans causes people to snap. I witnessed two old ladies on the train the morning of the ladybug princess. One started lecturing about deference to elders, complaining that all respect had left society. She continued on for a few stops even after the recipient had clearly stopped listening. The other woman jumped onto the train saying “I would have never fit before. I’m shrinking. Thank God for old age.” When another rider yelled at people to move in, her response was “Don’t worry about them, they are just tired this morning. How are you?” The yeller had no clue how to respond to such a positive response.

When I’m old, I want to be like the second lady. But her attitude wasn’t something she magically obtained one day. She had to develop a habit of choosing to be happy. A pattern of complaining, likewise, will carry on till you are a bitter old woman (or man).

Kids have the amazing ability to live in the present; to take whatever comes and make the best of it. They don’t (initially) live life measuring events up to an ideal situation. Hopefully I can develop a habit of playing in the rain, whatever form that takes.

Marathon

This weekend I completed a marathon in the Hamptons. I went into the marathon without training because I hate running alone. I also had spent the two nights before on 8-hour bus rides to and from Buffalo to celebrate my brothers 21st b-day. (Happy Birthday Robert!) It didn’t make the best conditions for running a marathon but I truly had no idea what I was getting into. Unlike my half marathon where I wanted to run the whole thing (and did), my goal for the marathon was simply to not give up (I didn’t).

Mile 1-5: Feeling good, running at a nice pace, lots of people and spectators and smiles.
Mile 7-13: They split the full marathon runners away. Because I’m running at a steady but slow pace I’m towards the back and there aren't a lot of us, no cheerers, no change in scenery. My extroverted side is getting grumpy. My ankles are starting to hurt but self talk is working. I tend to self-talk in two different ways. The first is tough love: “Jennifer, do you really need to walk? I didn’t think so.” The second is as if I were a two-year old or a dog: “What a good girl. Look at you running.”
Mile 13.1 Halfway there! Still feeling lonely and now the pain has moved to my calves but every step after this is farther than I have run before.
Mile 15: Took a 10 second walk which broke my mental game. Still to make it 15 miles is pretty darn good.
Mile 17: Minor breakdown. My legs are killing me and there hasn’t been people in a very long time. I switch between running like a little old lady and walking. I have no internal motivation to run, instead feeding off the energy I get from crowds.
Mile 20: Dance party and back to running. ‘Tightrope’ has become my new running song. Dancing makes me happier even when I’m dancing like a crazy person alone in the woods.
Mile 22: I have a full blown temper tantrum like a 4-year old, except I didn’t stomp my feet because they hurt so badly. I would have been completely embarrassed to let anyone hear my whining but there was no one around me. “I hate these woods, I hate running, this isn’t fun anymore, I hate this, I’m all alone, I want to quit, this sucks.” All I really wanted to do was sit down in the middle of the road but I knew my legs wouldn’t let me back up.
Mile 23: I laughed at how dramatic I was being and started to run again. There was a group of people who were cheering on a friend running slightly behind me and I adopted them as my own. I knew I couldn’t quit now. I can’t tell if it was a personal need or because I didn’t want to have to tell people that I quit. Either way my new goal was to run the last three miles. I had a tear streaked face but a smile.
Mile 24: Ran by the ocean didn’t even see it. I’ve heard it looked beautiful.
Mile 25: The last mile seemed like the longest.
Mile 26.2: As soon as I saw the finish line I started full out running. Everything else disappeared. My headphones flew out of my ears and started flapping behind me. I’m sure my face looks crazed in the picture. But… I FINISHED.

I’m glad I took on the challenge and completed a marathon. However, I don’t think I’ll get addicted to marathons. I averaged a little over a 13 minute mile which all things considered is a respectable time. Granted, I was towards the back of the pack but despite more physical pain than my mind was able to process and a high level of emotional turmoil I finished.

Congrats to Jeff & Nick on completing the Hamptons Half Marathon- their first endurance race.