Motivating to Leave My Nest

Today's blog actually encompasses the thoughts I had from two separate rides (Tuesday and today) and I had some deep thoughts rolling around in my brain while riding so bear with me.  However, since my thoughts from both days seemed to revolve around the same theme I thought I'd just combine what I had started before with today's contemplative musings.  Warning, it's one of my longest yet but it was two LOOOONNNGGGGG rides so I had a lot of time to think!  To be fair, a lot of these musings also came out of a conversation I had with my son James immediately after today's ride so the pump had been primed.

Both rides began with the same issue I have been struggling with since I moved into my little 8'x10' Quarantine Cubby - getting up and getting motivated to do anything!  It's so tempting to just lie in my little nest of blankets and pillows and since I virtually stay in my room unless going out on an EMS call for the NFD or going to work/class at CVAC, the only other thing that gets me out of my room is going on a bike ride.  And when the light streams in early in the morning it's so hard to not roll over and just say, "no, no, no - not today" - especially if it's raining.  But as it wasn't raining on Tuesday or today I just told myself to suck it up and go.  Somehow, I found the motivation to leave the nest and ride.

Motivation is such a hard topic to write about because it seems to be one of those over worn and overly commented upon concepts that has become a cliched phrase.  Just think of those cat posters adorning the walls of social workers everywhere;

Or if you're grumpy about your motivation;

And this is NOT to be confused with the other kind of Cats poster;

Because that WAS the MOST joyful event of the Holiday Season!!!!!!  Unfortunately, I just couldn't motivate myself to go!

And yes, it's ironic that I'm being salty about it as during my days in Ballet Dallas (more on that later) I still held the goal of maybe one day being in a production of Cats clutched tightly in my metaphorical palm (or paw as it were).  As creepy and ill conceived as the movie was (Ian McKellen drinking a saucer of milk?), the musical itself was a dream for someone who considered themselves a dancer.  A show where you essentially dance for two solid hours?  Sign me up!!!!!!  A big part of that was I had worked very hard to become a ballet dancer.  Thom Clower and the others at Ballet Dancer took me in and allowed me the opportunity to dance and turn myself into the type of dancer who could aspire to that.  I had just spent four years at SMU and I knew I wasn't the epitome of a ballet dancer because one of my teacher made it very clear I never would be.  That was enough for me to try to be.

You see, ever since I was young the best way to get me to do something is to tell me that I can't.
It's been probably the one single constant motivation tool I've had in my life.  When my dad was first stationed in Ansbach, Germany I was small (4'10"), slight but strong, and smarter than most everyone around me freshman who wanted nothing more than to find a place to fit in.  My German teacher (who I adored and secretly wished I could be like - Peter Mucelli) recruited me the first week of class by saying, "hey you look like you might like wrestling, you should try out for the team."  Now I wish it were some sort of cool success story where I took to it like a fish out of water, or I stepped out of the safety of my nest to soar like an eagle (ya know, keeping the nest analogy alive).  Nope, I was called a fish but in the wrestling world that's not necessarily a good thing.  And the only flying I did was back and forth across the mat as we did running drills.  And I would usually end up an exhausted heap.  As a 98-pound-weakling of an aspiring wrestler I also endured more than my fair share of hazing.  Including being bound hand and foot in nothing more than a jock strap and thrown out into the hall - just as the cheerleaders were practicing.  And that's when I discovered what motivates me.  No, not being tied up in front of cheerleaders.  It was during that incident that one of my "teammates" told me, "you oughta just give up - you're never gonna be a wrestler.  You'll only be a mat back!"

Now to be fair, this was one of the senior captains and an All-Germany wrestler so I could've just taken him at his word and just dropped out.  I was a mat back - I hadn't one a match, even though I was JV, and got pinned most of the time.  I would just get worn out and lose because I had no energy to keep up.  But I want to thank him because he gave me exactly what I needed - motivation.  I was going to prove him wrong!  So the next morning I began a ritual that lasted for most of the next two and a half years no matter what the weather.  Rain, sleet, cold, snow I would get up about five in the morning and go run for 3-5 miles.  I'd then go into my basement and lift weights that one of the other guys in the apartments kept down there and let me use.  I'd run to the gym some days and lift.  I was going to do whatever it took so I would no longer be a fish.  And it worked.  By the end of that season I was wrestling Varsity matches and I managed to letter!  But I kept at it through the Spring, Summer, fall and into the next season.  You see, I was determined that I wasn't going to be a mat back any more.

Waiting to go into action!!!!  No longer a fish!!!!

And then life got in the way, or rather the deployment of the U.S. Army.  My dad was transferred back to The States to Killeen, TX.  There was no high school wrestling in Texas at the time and so my hopes of being able to wrestle for a fourth year were gone.  I did act as sort of a "mascot" for the Ft. Hood wrestling team and I would ride my bike to the gym where they trained and work out with them.  They even allowed me to wrestle an "exhibition" match during one of their tournaments (JV again) but since I wasn't active military it couldn't count.  But I won and so it proved to myself that I did it.  After all these years I wasn't a "mat back" or a "fish" any more.

Flash forward seven years and I'm in my junior year at SMU as a Dance Performance major.  I was older than the average student having gone to four years of school (two years of junior college and two years at the National Shakespeare Conservatory) before taking on dance.  I had hated ballet at the Conservatory but when I moved back to Texas I had wanted to get back in shape.  I remembered that though I hated it, ballet class had gotten me in shape quickly and helped me get flexible.  So I signed up for dance classes.  First it was jazz but then the teacher (who happened to be an SMU Dance graduate) started encouraging me to take ballet.  It turned out that although I didn't have the body for it, I had a bit of talent for it.  I even choreographed a sort of modern ballet piece for competition and won in my age class.  It was then that Miss Susan encouraged me to audition for SMU.  At the time I knew I wanted to go back to college but I was working full time as a manager for a Wendy's in Round Rock, TX and trying to save money so I could go to UT Austin and major in English.  The idea was that I would teach English and maybe get a job and also run the theatre club.  Because, that's what English teachers did, right.  But Miss Susan told me that since I was a guy who could do ballet I could probably get a scholarship to attend school. I was sold.

She ran me through some more jazz and introduced me to the basics of Martha Graham style modern and got me ready for what would be the dance audition in Dallas.  I also worked on the combination I had created for competition because that was going to be the solo piece I used for that component of the audition.  Granted, I had never even seen modern dance before so the day before the audition Susan drove me up to Dallas and we stayed with a friend of hers named Patricia Dickinson who was also an SMU alumnus and ran a modern company named Dancers Unlimited in Dallas.  We watched her group perform and I was intrigued.  It looked like so much fun.  We stayed at her house that night and the next day I auditioned.  Long story short, I made it into the program.  I received my acceptance letter a week after the audition and they told me I would be receiving a merit scholarship.  I guess not bad for a guy who started dancing late and was certainly not as experienced as some of the other guys I had auditioned with.

And boy was that an understatement.  After the first week of class I realized just how behind I was. I wasn't a natural turner, I wasn't terribly flexible, and my bow leggedness made my lines just a bit off.  But it wasn't until a few of my teachers stopped really paying any attention to me in class and correcting me that I realized they didn't think I was worth their time.  And that pissed me off.  I made up my mind then and their to prove them wrong.  Fortunately, I also had other teachers there like Karen, Trish, Erica, and Bob who saw something in me that was worth nurturing.  They took me under their collective wings and helped mentor me into becoming a better dancer.  But I still had the chip on my shoulder.  I started getting to class fifteen to twenty minutes early just to pre-stretch.  I would take class religiously during my winter and spring breaks. I ate, drank and slept dance and really focused on trying to prove them wrong.  Hmmmm, sound familiar.  But it was my junior year that really lit the fire in my belly.

Dancing in one of the Meadows Brown Bag Concerts with Amy Heggins

You see, at the end of every semester we had "Critiques" or "Crit" in which we would sit alone in the main dance studio with all of our teachers sitting before us.  One by one they would tell us how they think we had done that semester and what we had done well and - most importantly - what we needed to work on to continue to grow (or stay) in the program.  Most of them always told me things I knew I needed to work on and I would take their critique graciously and vow to work even harder.  So much so that in my sophomore year I auditioned and was chosen to be a part of the Meadows Repertory Dance Ensemble (Merde, the traditional way dancers say "good luck" before a performance)!  That they thought I was good enough to be part of the special group of dancers (who often went out on tour - we had the chance to go to Oklahoma one year) put me on top of the world! But I still had to work even harder as it meant extra company class and extra rehearsals.  Things continued well through my first two years but it changed at the beginning of my third year.  The man who had been our "Men's Class" teacher (and who had taken me under his wing and really worked with me to improve my technique) wasn't retained the third year and they hired someone else who saw things a little differently. Out of respect for his memory I won't name him here but suffice it to say, I wasn't his ideal at all of a ballet dancer.

After the first week of classes I knew he didn't care for me from the disdain that seemed to come from him every time he spoke to me.  I didn't fit the classic ballet mold.  I was short, I was still a bit stocky (from all of the wrestling) and I wasn't a brilliant turner like others.  But I could jump.  Begrudgingly he put me in a Repertory piece (a pas de deux) that required me to do sixteen single tour en'lairs in a row followed by a double tour en'lair during my variation. It also had a ton of other jumps and leaps scattered throughout.  I think I was probably in the air more than I was on the ground, or at least pretty close.  I worked on it incessantly because, quite frankly, I didn't want to fail and face his look of disdain. I worked so hard on it that when it came time for the performances I would walk offstage and immediately begin limping because of the shin splints it gave me.  I would ice them down, change costumes and get back on stage for the next number (it was a Repertory company after all).  That first semester when it came time for Crit he sat with my other teachers and when it came his turn he simply said, "That's all very nice what they've said but have you ever considered acting?" and left it at that.  The next two teachers tried to make light of it and said it was my natural expressiveness that made me such a good dancer, my ability to imbue each role with emotion, the way I brought a reason for my movements to the character, etc.  But it was his words that stung me to the quick.  I had literally put my body through hell for him but in his mind I should think about acting because my talent as a dancer wasn't there.  And I decided then and there to prove him wrong.  I WOULD dance in ballet company if it was the last thing I did!

Time passed and it was nearing time to graduate.  He cast me in a few more of his pieces but never as the lead.  I was always the comic relief, the demi-character as it's called in the ballet world.  My goal was to go on the road and audition for ballet companies that spring and come back so I could tell him I would be dancing for XYZ Company in the fall.  Unfortunately, that was also the year of the big Greyhound Bus Strike and so my audition tour wasn't going to happen.  And then my girlfriend Benji came to the rescue.  She volunteered to give up her Spring Break and drive me around from Texas to South Carolina and back to audition for companies.  I think I still probably owe her some gas money for that.  It was one of the kindest gestures anyone has ever done for me.  She knew how much getting into a company meant to me and so she would take me there.  Unfortunately, it turned out my teacher was right.  After auditioning for something like six to eight companies none of them offered me anything except for an unpaid apprenticeship with the Charleston Ballet.  I came back with my hopes diminished but not shattered.  I had started doing some freelance work that spring with Dancers Unlimited so I knew I had at least one company I could join, even if it wasn't a ballet company I would be a dancer.

And then a very wonderful young man named Thom Clower saw something in me and offered me an apprenticeship with a new company he was forming named Ballet Dallas.  It was grown out of the ashes of the previous Dallas Ballet which I had been given the opportunity to dance a few numbers with while at SMU when they needed men to fill out their numbers and reached out to our department.  Thom made it clear that I wasn't going to be paid (like Charleston and Austin Ballet Theatre the summer before) but I would get to take all the company classes, get to learn roles, and if I worked hard maybe have the chance to perform in some of the pieces. Well hard work wasn't something I was afraid of and I vowed that I would work so hard he allow me to dance with the company.  Again, I knew I had gotten better but I still wasn't the epitome of the classic male dancer.  There were many in the company that year who were and I studied them as hard as I could to learn how to be like them.  That winter I had one of the best experiences of my life as I was chosen, along with a beautiful dancer named Rhonda Murray, to film a karaoke video for Garth Brooks' "The Dance".  The company that filmed it would make these videos to be shown on the screen behind karaoke singers as if they were in a music video.  It was a long day of shooting in a cold, unheated warehouse but I loved working with Rhonda and since they paid us I felt as if I was a REAL dancer.

I was also dancing with Dancers Unlimited on a part time basis and working with their choreographers dancing in their concerts as well.  I didn't really get paid much but I had a full time job working at a dance supply chain and so I was living the life of a dancer.  Taking class, working, and rehearsing.  And then towards the end of the Spring Thom approached me and another of the dancers and said that he was bringing in a guest choreographer to set a piece on us.  He said he thought the piece would be perfect for us and our abilities.  We were both excited as it would be a pas de deux created especially for us and we would be able to perform it at some of the company's concerts.  And who should walk in the door?  The very man who through his words, looks of disdain and dismissive actions told me I'd never dance in a ballet company.  Now I won't say I gloated but he did look at me in a different light.  Of course in the time since he'd seen me I'd also lost twelve pounds (I was at 2% body fat), was much more flexible and had worked with the four ballet masters at Ballet Dallas to improve my technique as much as I could.  At the end he told us how pleased he was with us and what a wonderful job we had done.  And that is about as good as I could possibly hope for from him.

Once again showing that I had the legs for jumping!

That season with Ballet Dallas would be my only one as I decided that maybe because of my height, and the fact my technique wasn't good enough to be a soloist, I would move to New York and try to become a modern dancer.  Buuuuuuttttttt, once again the same story.  Every major company I auditioned for wouldn't hire me but I did manage to find a lot of pick up work as a dancer and found myself at one point dancing for three smaller modern companies all at the same time.  And then I saw an ad looking for "Classically trained dancers for an innovative production of Jesus Christ, Superstar"  At this point in my life I had no idea what was entailed in a musical and had only been in the ensemble in one other musical in my life - a junior college version of......Jesus Christ, Superstar. I auditioned for them as a non-Equity member and they cast me as the Lead Tormentor.  It was a ton of fun, the people were amazing and they paid me more in one week than I was making in all three companies combined.  I found my calling.  I started auditioning for musicals (even though I couldn't yet really sing) and ended up cast as the second male lead in a production of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.  Why?  Because they needed well trained male dancers.  It was in this production that I met the woman who would become my real life bride because she was cast opposite me, a fact I knew in my soul the instant she walked in the room.  But that's a story for another blog.  Moral of this particular part of the story?  Without that teacher telling me I'd never be a ballet dancer I would never have met my wife and have the life I have now with a beautiful wife, three wonderful children and a house on Main Street.

We've been dancing together ever since!

What does all of this have to do with leaving my nest?  Well, if you haven't guessed by now I'm more of an extrinsically motivated person.  Tell me I can't do something and I will find a way to do it, some how.  Finding that motivation from within is much harder.  I've made it 21 years as the advisor to the Association of Creative Thespians (the Syosset High School Drama Club) in part because my first few months there one of the officers half jokingly said, "don't get too comfortable because you probably won't be here long." (Thanks Mr. Rubino)  He wasn't being mean, it's just that in his four years there he'd had three different drama club advisors.  I guess I have the last laugh there.

Even my Master's Degree in School Building/Administration was sort of extrinsically motivated.  People told me I was crazy and I'd never be able to finish with my work load as the director of three high school shows.  With the reality of needing to write hundreds of observations and papers, serve two internships, create a project, the challenge was truly daunting but when you tell me I can't or won't be able to it just makes me dig my heels in more.  It was a similar story with the Connor's Army XC ride.  I had the idea to do it out of gratitude for my sisters' and mother's remission from cancer but also because I had been working at Sunrise Day Camp and had seen what a difference that camp made for the children who were able to attend there.  But when people looked at me incredulously and some even said, "you can't do that - how will you make it, what will you do with your family?  What will you do about work?"  Well, I have an amazing family who supported me and we made it a family affair and we raised close to $30,000 for the camp when all was said and done.  Not too bad for someone who couldn't get his school to support him!

Look, Ma!  We did it!!!!!

And my latest challenge was also one that I was told I was crazy to try but I had the support of my family otherwise I wouldn't have made it through.  That was the challenge to try and become an EMT-CC in the midst of trying to be a full-time teacher and direct three shows!  People looked at me like I was insane and the instructors even warned us that unless we had a POWERFUL motivation to get through the course we would never make it.  I did have what for me was a strong extrinsic motivation in some instances that have happened to us in our life.  For instance the time we were far away from anywhere and William got stung by a bee for the first time and we weren't sure how he'd react.  Or the time we were on Fire Island and he dove for a frisbee and hit the grill with his head.  Miles from any EMS care!  Or the times when people announced "Is there a doctor in the house?"  Also, the fact that the State DOH (in it's infinite wisdom) had declared this would be the last CC class ever as they were phasing out the program.  I HAD to pass it or I'd never get the chance again.  That was extremely extrinsic.  Of course the further I got towards the end the more stressed I became thinking about what would happen if I failed out.  I just kept thinking how much I would let my family down after all they went through to enable me to do this.

So Tuesday morning and this morning.  The problem I have now is that it's warm and snuggly in my bed.  My goal when I started my self-isolation was to get up every morning at 6:00 and then either get on the road or work out from 7:00 - 8:30 am then teach my first period class.  That hasn't happened yet in the three weeks I've been here.  Even today I waited until after my 8:30 class before going out for a ride but at least I got up early!  There's progress!!!!!  So my goal now is to try to find the motivation to get myself back into shape and it's got to come from inside this time.  So I listen to the words of Sum 41 as I ride and try to find something that will click.

So, does anyone want to tell me I can't??? Please?

Well, be what may, I WILL see you on the road!

FFR - NOTHING!!!!
RRL - Eighteen rubber gloves, a crutch, a propane tank