Hooping.org

I had a realization some years ago that my ability to tap into Flow with my hoop was very much like my ability to speak a second language. I”ve never been quick with words, even in my own language, and I never really felt I had a talent for learning another tongue. When I was 27 years old, rather late in life for learning a new language, I moved to Japan for what I thought was going to be a one year contract. (I ended up staying 5 but that’s another story.) I was rather smitten with the idea of “full immersion” and ended up taking a job where I had to rely completely upon my rudimentary Japanese skills. For months, I would struggle to interpret what was being said to me, translating each word and phrase as I could to get some kind of glimmer as to what the actual topic of conversation was. Conjuring up responses was even more tedious and tortuous and it felt incredibly frustrating at times wanting to express myself and having the language skills of a 2 year old.

After several months of embarrassment and effort and great patience on the part of my Japanese colleagues, I ended up traveling to Malaysia for break and spent several weeks there feeling the relief of not having to work so hard to coommunicate. On my flight back to Japan, the stewardess made her announcements first in English (no problem, feeling smug that I can understand,) then Chinese and Malay (no pressure for me as there is no chance that I could understand so I don’t even try.) The final announcement comes on and I find myself understanding completely and fully what is being said even though it’s not English. I realize that I am listening to something being said in Japanese and it’s requiring no effort on my part. I am comprehending without having to translate. I have direct access to the meaning of the words. I have “clicked in.” It’s a wonderful feeling.

For me, that idea of fluency and flow rings true when I am in the hoop. When the words begin to roll off my tongue or the “moves” flow from my body without the self-conscious effort of thinking, “I am now performing a chest roll,” or “I am now saying ‘I wonder what’s up with Kato-sensei today?’ in Japanese,” then I have achieved some level of fluency that allows me to bypass the tedium of translation and tap directly into the source of meaning. The mechanics, the muscle memory is there, but also a deeper and more direct connection to what it is I want to convey. My expression is untethered by translation.

In fact, there are things that I can say in Japanese that I cannot say in English. There is often no direct translation. Learning the language of the hoop has given me access to a Self that would be hidden from me without the hoop. I have discoverd ideas, feelings, associations and understandings that would have been unavailable without the immersion into the Flow of the hoop. Without fluency, there is no Flow.

Yes, I think that’s kind of what I’m saying. Of course, sometimes we are blessed when things come easy to us. But for the most part, there is a period of struggle, of frustration and conscious effort. I actually feel very comforted by the fact that artists I admire have emphasized how hard they must work to achieve their art. I remember reading a passage by a writer whose books i love practically confessing to the torture and sweat and tears he endured to write a simple paragraph. Some days he produced very little, a sentence or two. But he was quite disciplined and would sit for 8 hours a day in front of his typewriter. Of course, he was actually a prolific writer, but he put in his time.

Whether you like Elizabeth Gilbert or not, I do find her words about the source of creativity insightful.

This is an interesting conversation. I am finding that I struggle more and more with the amount of performance hooping that is around me. The tricks, the fact that everyone can do so much more than I can, leaving me feeling inadequate. But when I am on my own I can let go. Some of the very best hooping I’ve ever done has been on my own. It is about the only time I get flow and variety of moves without thinking about it. I can pull more or less flawless choreography out of nowhere sometimes, but it is always when I am alone and letting go. Immersing myself in the hoop and the music. Loosing the conscious thoughts about what I look like, what I can do etc.

Do you think practice can every be done in a public space with other hoopers or is it a solitary procedure?

Beth, I love your references to learning Japanese. That was a hard way to do it. But a thorough one. It’s more or less what we did with hooping. We discovered it, then we immersed ourselves in it, the videos, the talk and posts. At first it was impossible to grasp. Then all of a sudden it made sense and we were off.

You know I have never thought about hooping in the same breath as acting. Interesting point. And one I can answer easily. When I am performing a role, I am totally in flow. I am not reciting or running through a form of choreography, I am there, in the moment, as someone else. It’s not me there. I have ingrained notions from the rehearsal period, of where I need to be when and how to cope with the “business” that is going on. The dialogue is in my brain in the form of connected patterns. The audience provides the fire that lights the touch paper and creates the energy to lift the performance beyond that achieved in rehearsal. I am terrible at improv though. I hate it. The rehearsal period allows me to experiment and find out what works and what doesn’t so that I can discard some ideas and keep developing others. I am never afraid of the audience once the rehearsals are through. I love the audience for the adrenaline rush they give that allows me on to greater things.

Perhaps the reason I find it hard to flow with a hoop in public is that I don’t practice with that in mind. When I practice and achieve flow I am doing it for me. I am not rehearsing for someone else. So a live performance with a hoop to an audience is basically an improv session – something I know I hate and can’t cope with. I’ve never thought of it like that. Brilliant. Now I understand. And that is why the very few public space successes I have had with a hoop have been when I have ignored everyone around me successfully enough to stop seeing them – basically going blindfold without then cloth, thus making it a private session.