How Orchidaceae Changed my Life in Seven Days.

I promised I was going to write a blog about ODI (Orchidaceae Dance Intensive), which I attended in September. It has been a month since the intensive already, and it’s hard to believe that it was only that short an amount of time. It feels like forever ago already, and yet the inspiration has not left me yet. Since I came back I have been more creative than ever and more hungry to learn and experiment and improve. 

Jazzy Studios - our home for the week

I’m finding it hard to write my blog. I don’t want to write about all of the things that we did, like a blow by blow account of what you learn in ODI. I think it’s something you have to experience for yourself. More than this I want to write about the impact it has had on me and what it has caused me to learn about myself. When I came home, I wrote in my journal about my experience, and just like this blog, I wrote mostly about myself and not the act of being there.

I think that there are no adjectives in the English language to describe how incredible the week was. I went to ODI knowing that I would spend the whole week feeling like a beginner. I was ready for that challenge. I needed it. I signed up for this intensive feeling like this was the push that I needed to move forwards with my own work. So throughout the week we took 3 hour classes in House, Contemporary, Floorwork, Hip Hop, Vogue, Waacking, Popping, Capoeira and Tribal Fusion – Orchidaceae style! Throughout the week I felt physically and emotionally challenged, and each of the classes made me learn something about myself, not only as a dancer but as a person. On the last day, we all cried – a lot. And when I came home and wrote about the week in my journal and put onto paper the things I had learned about myself, I cried a bit more. Because part of it was like a release, and part of it was like the biggest disappointment in myself that I allow myself to feel this way and to punish myself so much.

Some mornings, sunglasses were required!

So… realisation number one: I am physically capable of more than I give myself credit for. I spend so much time telling myself I am not a ‘real’ dancer. I think I’m a pretty good bellydancer, particularly when it comes to Tribal Fusion. But every other dance class I go into, I go into with the headset that I will suck. I don’t pick new movement vocabulary up quickly. I don’t understand movement mechanisms just by seeing them once, I have to physically experience them multiple times before they start to make sense to me. Not feeling like a ‘real’ dancer is mostly nothing to do with being a bellydancer, and everything to do with the fact that if I were to be in a company in any other style, I’d be the first person to get cut, because I’m slow. I’ve been to classes – particularly in styles like contemporary – and it’s a case of keep up or get out. You don’t get the teachers taking time to really help you when you’re struggling to get it. I’m sure that’s not every class and every teacher, but the ones that I’ve been to, it has been this way. And I left the classes feeling worse about myself than when I first entered the room. The Orchidaceae crew are nothing like those teachers. In floorwork, both Cookie and Lucia spent time with me one to one to help me understand and execute some of the movements I was struggling with. And Maria especially made me feel like I was capable of anything in the contemporary class – she had me doing leaps, kicks, pulling her into the air, and lifting me through space…. Wow! Things so far out of my comfort zone that I felt I would never be able to do them. I was doing them – not perfectly but it didn’t matter – I was *doing* them – and all because she believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself. 

And this brought me to realisation number two: I don’t believe in myself – at all. I spend so much time questioning why things have happened to me, how I have been so fortunate to be in the position that I am in now. I’ve realised that I never feel good enough, at anything. I’ve spent my entire life feeling like a fraud. I feel like a fraud as a dancer constantly – I think part of that feeds into that ‘not a real dancer’ feeling. The more cross training I do, the more that feeling decreases, but it hasn’t gone away. Throughout my PhD I felt like a fraud the whole time – even on the day that I successfully defended my thesis, I left feeling like I’d somehow managed to con the examiners into thinking my work was worthy of the doctorate. I avoid conversation about everything that’s important to me because I feel like I don’t have anything important to contribute because what right do I have to comment on anything anyway. I feel like this about so many things. I know that part of it comes down to being an introvert – I like to think a lot and don’t much like sharing my thoughts and feelings. But I wonder if sometimes I use my introversion as an excuse for the real issue. I look at these amazing dancers that I admire so much – like Piny, and Zoe, and Anasma – and I see their outgoing personalities and willingness to try anything and everything and I wish I could be more like them. I am trying. But some past experiences, where I overcome introversion and this feeling of not having a right to share my opinion, and state my thoughts on a subject and get shut down for not having the popular opinion… this has only pushed me further towards this feeling of having no right to say anything…. I have to get over this feeling because I do have things to say and I shouldn’t keep them to myself. How can I ever hope to make a positive contribution to the growth of our community if I never say anything, or challenge anything?

My favourite teacher <3 ... so amazing!

The weekend of the intensive was the most emotionally challenging. Staring into the eyes of another person is fucking intense. I was paired with Laura Luna at first and we laughed and then we both felt this intense wave of emotion well up inside of us and before we knew it we were simultaneously crying. With Laura it was cool because we know each other pretty well, and while it was intense, it was like we just shared something really special within our friendship. My second partner was Leo Orchidaceae… me and Leo are friends but she is a mysterious woman! From what I can tell, she’s also kind of an introvert. But I think most people had a different experience with their second partner. For me, even now, when I think about gazing into her eyes, I feel a little breathless as I did in the moment. At one point we smiled at each other but for the most part it was really serious. And I felt like she was really staring into my soul – like she could see every insecurity I have about myself, every thought, every memory, every dream… that’s a really intimate moment. Which brought me to realisation number 3 – I avoid intimacy with other people. I have had so many ‘friends’ hurt me in the past that I put up a wall to stop people from getting too close. And when I’m forced into a situation that requires that level of intimacy, I feel like I can’t breathe because the wall is being dragged down brick by brick.  

All of these realisations so far are tied together. It’s why I let people who I deem to be ‘better’ than me, walk all over me. It’s why I don’t contribute ideas when I work with people who are more experienced than me, or at least are in my head, because I don’t think they could possibly ever be as good as theirs. I go along with what other people want so that I don’t have to face confrontation or be made to feel like my ideas aren’t worth anything. This is SO STUPID! Essentially I’m a coward. The only time I can really share my ideas is when I am the director – like in Juniper Project – because they have trusted me to be in control. And sometimes I feel ok about it if I’m working with people who I view as my peers and not my teachers - but not always.

A few of my awesome roommates

I was kind of grateful at the end of the weekend that everyone cried. That we held each other in a close embrace and sobbed. It made me feel safe that even though I’m quite clearly ridiculously neurotic to the point of it actually holding me back, I’m also not alone in feeling this way. Or at least, that other people were having emotional breakthroughs and realisations like I was. We got really close as a group and made stronger connections to each other. In a way that no other intensive has managed to do. We told each other what we really thought of each other in those moments. Again, tears come to my eyes as I think of the things people said to me and that I said to others as we sobbed. And that brings me to realisation number four: I can’t be on my own any more. I need some people to work with – bellydancers or otherwise. I feel like my fusion is not going to grow and expand without having the room to experiment and research together the way that Orchidaceae are doing as a company. The whole point of this intensive was to emphasise how important it is that we share. And you can’t share on your own. I think perhaps some of the tears were another realisation that when we were to go back home, many of us would be alone once again. I’m not going to allow myself to be alone any more. I have spent the past 10 years of my life as a dancer being by myself – short term collaborations aside – as a fusion dancer I have done all of my training for myself. I have spent hours in the studio working on my technique, without a regular teacher. And that’s ok. But it’s not enough for me any more So as such, I’ve taken a step completely out of my comfort zone – I’ve joined the performance group at the studio I take Street and Jazz classes at in Birmingham. We’re creating a piece for the International Dance Festival Birmingham next year, and in the interim we are now making a piece for a performance in December. FUCK! I can’t believe I have actually put myself in this situation, where I am working with people who are classically trained. And it’s so funny, because when we introduced ourselves, the director of the project got so excited that I was a bellydancer – and she wants me to, at some point, do one of our sessions so that people in the group can learn some bellydance. I am so excited to get to share my work with these people and have them share their knowledge with me and watch as we grow together. I can’t wait to see where this experience takes me as a dancer. When I first read that the studio were going to open up this group so that dancers of different backgrounds can work together, I asked myself if I should do it and I told myself I shouldn’t because of all the things I said before – I’m not good enough, I have nothing to contribute, why would anyone want me there? I refuse to let myself think that any more.  

My Own Style Jam - Hostess with the Mostess!

Another thing that I avoided as part of the intensive was the My Own Style Jam – a battle of sorts. I regretted it the moment people started dancing. Through all the thoughts of ‘I’m not good enough, I don’t have enough confidence in myself, etc, etc’, I missed an opportunity to show what I do to people outside of my little bubble of a community. How foolish of me to pass up this opportunity. Never again. I am going to say yes to more things that make me feel uncomfortable. It’s time. Maybe now, after this intensive, I’ve been introduced to a headspace where I’m ready to work through these feelings that I have about myself and get to a more balanced place in my head. Piny had me doing things with my heart and soul that no other teacher has succeeded in getting me to do. She’s a special one.  

I have realised that I need to be the change I want to see in the world. Piny’s words are still ringing in my head – we need to show people what we do because what we do is amazing! When I think of all the times I’ve lied to people that I was a ‘contemporary’ dancer so I don’t have to hear the piss-takes or the misunderstandings of what bellydance is… I might not feel ashamed of being a bellydancer, but I’m too afraid to have the difficult conversations with people about what it is that I do? Isn’t that just as bad as being ashamed? I know a lot of our problem is public perception of what we do, but what have I done so far to change that? Nothing! Time to make a change. 

I feel like the aftermath of this intensive is going to bring a big change in our community. And it might not be a change that I will be young enough to feel the benefit of, but we are the people that can start making the necessary changes within our community and across other dance communities for the dancers that will come after us - our students and their students. There are enough of us that are serious about our education as dancers and are in a position that we can effect change. I just hope that we turn these into actions and not just words – I think this is the important mission of our generation – to question everything, to educate everyone, to create connections with other dance forms and to push ourselves to always be better. So the future generations will benefit from our work and so that Tribal Fusion won’t die. 

It wasn't all work, work, work.... but mostly it was ;)

Since I came home I have changed my entire attitude towards everything I do in dance. Yes I am inspired to work harder and make new work, and I am spending more time working on the things I need to work on. When I go to classes, I go right to the front instead of hiding out in the back. And this week, for the first time in 6 months since I started, I actually went and spoke to my street dance teacher! That sounds like nothing but it’s a big deal for me – hide at the back of the class and hope no one notices you girl! I even have this thought that maybe if I work hard enough I can get to the point where I would join a battle in one of the styles I really like. I am working really hard on House because it is my favourite, but I’m also practicing popping and hip hop because I feel like if I really put my mind to it and just let go a little bit, I could be good at it. I just need to work at it and forget this notion of never being good enough! Fuck inhibition, be brave and fearless and fucking rock it! This is my life, post-ODI. Self-doubt is trying to creep in every day, and I’m kicking it away each time it approaches – it’s not easy, but I’m doing it. I need to believe that I am capable of everything because I AM, and Orchidaceae showed me that I am. There are no limitations unless you create them, so stop creating them. 

Somebody take me back there, please!!

This is what ODI did for me. And before I close my blog, I want to say that all of the Orchidaceae crew are such talented, generous, curious, incredible people that fill you with self-worth and believe in you until the end. I’ve never met people so kind and caring and wishing for my success in everything. My only regret is that we don’t see each other more. I want to give a special mention for our three teachers from the week:

* Lucia: strong, fierce and patient. Knowing how to push you with just the right amount of gentleness. Your Capoeira class was the most physically challenging and I felt my quads for FOUR DAYS after your class! But you also reminded me the part of Tribal Fusion that drew me in in the first place – the constantly pushing physical boundaries, the control over the body that you get from being able to do these tiny isolations and how strong you feel knowing your body so well. In many ways, Capoeira feels the same. I’m always looking for the next personal physical challenge – that’s why I started running earlier this year – and it’s what I loved about Tribal Fusion when I started. Thanks for helping me to remember that feeling. The other girls told me I would hate this class because I guess I don’t fit the stereotype of loving this kind of challenge. But I LOVED it! I definitely want to learn more Capoeira and be as fucking strong as you are!!

* Leo: What can I say? My favourite teacher!! Generous, supportive, kind, patient… you make me feel like I can do everything. You are someone really special, to inspire people the way that you do. You weave some kind of magic that I can’t really put into words. Your classes are just magic – I wish I could be in them every week!

The one that makes the magic happen... always.

* Piny: Knowing you has changed my life immeasurably. I will never forget how I felt after I watched Orchidaceae in rehearsal before TribaLX last year. I will never forget sharing Noemi’s apartment with you and the girls in Barcelona. Your friendship and your belief means a lot to me. But more, your love for this dance style and for dance in general is infectious and inspiring. You’re the only person I have met that really knows how to get the best out of me – to get me to do the things that no one else can. You see the potential in everyone and you see the potential in Tribal Fusion. You see how fucking amazing this dance style is and remind us not to forget that. I love that you are always curious, always experimenting, and not afraid to make mistakes. You’re genuine and you’re honest and you don’t hold back. I think we should all be a little bit more like you. 

I miss everyone that I shared a moment with at the intensive. I feel like we really bonded as a group and I miss getting to share class every day with you. But the inspiration and energy everyone gave me is living on – I’m still inspired a month after ODI and I feel like the inspiration won’t run out soon. If you can take the ODI next year, you definitely should. It is already in my diary ready for next year…. Heck, me and my husband have even banded around the idea of moving to Lisbon for a few months… 

We need people like Orchidaceae in our world to remind us that hard work pays off. That our work is important and that we can make a difference. That collaboration and working together is key for us to grow. That sharing our ideas and work is essential if we want to make the change we want to see. I am making changes in my life that I hope will be super positive for me, not just in dance but in life.

So this is me, post-ODI…. Let’s see what happens next!!