Failure and What Writers Can Learn by Channeling Dancer Charlie Hodges

Some of you may know I’m a dance mom. And no, not that kind of dance mom. You’ll never find me on one of those hellacious reality shows where they’re snarky and screamy, and always denigrating their darling dancers. Ack.

Nope. I’m just a regular ol’ dance mom who taxis her twinkle-toed, tutu’ed daughter to and from the studio and/or theater six days a week, like all the other moms (and dads); and who supports her dancer’s every move in her passionate pursuit of all things related to pointe, pirouettes, and pas de bourrées.

A few weeks ago I chaperoned a group of dancers from the studio my daughter has attended for nearly ten years to Regional Dance America (RDA) in Spokane, Washington. This four-day conference, which brought hundreds of dancers from twenty studios all over the region, was not an inexpensive venture, both in time and energy, not to mention finances. As we lifted off from the Santa Barbara airport, I sat buckled in, questioning my sanity in volunteering for this gig, hoping it would all be be worth it.

Layover in Portland--keeping it lively on the moving walkway.

I won’t bombard you with too many details, as I’m sure you already know what I’m about to say….It was worth every penny and every ounce of energy.

Let me repeat. Every. Single. Bit. Of. It.

Getting ready for a pointe class.

The girls took master classes in ballet, pointe, modern, contemporary, improv, and choreography from some of the top instructors in the U.S. and Canada, dancing between 3-5 hours each day. They also took strength/fitness classes, enjoyed lectures, and observed dozens of dances performed by different companies over four evenings. And finally, they reveled in a gala at the end of the conference in which they celebrated all their hard work, and cheered for their fellow dancers as over four hundred thousand dollars in scholarships was handed out. I’m not kidding.

This week of total immersion swirled together into the same kind of inspiration you find by attending a writer’s conference. You can’t help but grow and feel like you’re ready to elevate your game when you’re surrounded by others who are as passionate about your artform as you. This kind of synergy sets your creativity on fire and launches your motivation into the stratosphere.

The reason I’m sharing this with all of you is because it reminded me of how important it is to invest in ourselves as artists—whether it be dance, music, sculpture or writing.

We are only here on this planet for a limited amount of time, so if we want to be the best artists we can possibly be, we need to find inspiration and knowledge wherever we can, then set aside time to master our craft, tell our truths, and throw ourselves out into the universe to share our passions.

On the last day of RDA, the girls and my fellow co-chaperone and I attended a lecture I thought you would appreciate as much as we did. It was a TedTalk given by a dancer and educator named Charlie Hodges. His lecture was about learning from failure and finding your truth, which is not something most of these 14 to18-year-olds had heard much about, and something this adult appreciated hearing—especially on such a visceral level.

Charlie Hodges at RDA

First of all, about Charlie Neshyba-Hodges. He’s a thirty-eight year old contemporary American dancer who danced for nearly two decades, predominantly with Sacramento Ballet, Twyla Tharp and LA Dance Project. He’s known for “his unique ability to blend powerful and fluid dancing with tragicomic projection.”

Photo credit: Charlie Hodges Design

But that’s not the reason he was there to tell his story. His deeper story is that throughout his entire career he was told he was too short, fat and bald to be considered for lead roles, or even be accepted into the most prestigious companies, even though he was one of the most talented dancers. He received rejection after rejection—41 companies turned him down, in fact—(what writer can’t relate to that?), but he found a way to keep on going through dark, dark days, and eventually came to find his truth, and regain his joy in his artform.

Here is Charlie’s TedTalk, which I highly recommend checking out: 
Charlie Hodges Learning From Failure and Finding Your Truth

This is what else Charlie had to say at RDA…

Every day starts with space to get better.

Some of the best moments in life happen when you say yes. I wholeheartedly agree with this, as so many positive things have happened over my five-plus decades when I’ve taken a leap of faith and said yes. I was thrilled he shared this notion with all our dancers.

Don’t rely on luck, waiting for good things to happen. If you do, you could be waiting a very long time. Relying on skill is a much better approach.

Turn chance into choice, luck into skill (in other words, work your ass off).

Mastering something R.O.O.T.B. (right out of the box) is not how life works.

Effort—when it stops, growth stops.

Honest passion is always rewarded. I loved this too, because it reinforced the idea that you don’t have to be technically perfect all the time to connect with your audience. It’s about being authentic and passionate, and being the best version of yourself. It’s about sharing your love of your artform. That in itself should make you want to spread your wings and soar instead of shrink away to the claustrophobic “land of perfect,” where few people breathe deeply or exist joyfully.

Charlie Hodges at RDA answering questions afterward

Don’t become too afraid to fail. Failure is a rainstorm. If you just let yourself get wet, you’ll realize how much fun it is to splash through puddles, dance in the street, and feel the cool rain on your face. I loved that Charlie hammered home this notion with our dancers because I feel like there’s a ridiculous amount of pressure placed on young people these days to be perfect, always succeed, and never falter (Harvard and American Ballet Theater are waiting, after all!). Being afraid to fail provides the perfect recipe for always opting for the safety and comfort of what we’re good at over pushing outside our comfort zones where all the magic happens.

Don’t let someone dictate the outcome of your experience. You have control over how things are recorded. Continue reading

Hallelujah for Anne Lamott

It’s been an eternity since I’ve blogged, and there are numerous reasons, for which I’m sure many of you can relate, including multiple moves, caregiving, death, and of course the constant pull of life. There was also a year of Ironman training thrown in there along the way, as well as wildfires, mudslides and the completion of my first novel. More about that another day though.

Then there’s this—the incessant drumbeat of chaos and negativity that’s been swirling through our nation since November 9, 2016.

Becky Aaronson in front of the Granada Theater before Anne Lamott's talk

Having had the pleasure of listening to author, political activist and writing instructor, Anne Lamott, speak last week though, it reminded me of one simple thing: if you want to write, write.

Also, Do. Not. Give. Up. Hope.

Because her talk was the best dose of medicine I’ve had in a long, long time, I wanted to share it with you so we might dance in hope and inspiration together.

When bespectacled and dreadlocked Anne Lamott walked on to the stage of Santa Barbara’s grand dame Granada Theatre wearing jeans and a biscuit-clolored flowy blouse, I instantly felt at ease. Her authenticity warmed the audience like the knitted shawl she wore wrapped around her shoulders. When she opened her mouth, I knew we would be friends or life.

I’ve always enjoyed her writing, but what she brought last Tuesday night was something more than writing wisdom. It was soul food, and what I dearly needed to hear. Based on the reaction from the rest of the audience, it was something they needed to hear, too. We are not alone in our angst and worry, and we must never give up.

For fifty minutes Anne riffed on mercy, hope and writing, all the while reinforcing the notion that we’re all neurotic and vulnerable, and we’re all enough exactly how we are.

“Truth is rare in popular culture,” she said. “Be big, juicy and real. We are as vulnerable as kittens, the world is devastating, but be you. There are no codes to lifeWe’re all a little tense and vulnerable…When you look in the mirror, reclaim the delight of your own reflection.”

The idea is that if we lose our amour and open up our hearts, we allow a place for mercy and compassion for others and ourselves.

She said mercy means “Heart for other’s troubles and struggles,” and “Mercy is radical kindness,” which is the definition I related to most.

Mercy is what brought Anne hope, especially after the devastating election in which it has felt like we’ve been bullied and lied to for months and months and months as the environment, children, elderly, immigrants, minorities, journalism and our allies have all been marginalized.

What else brought her hope? The same things that brought me hope and many others: people standing up for what they believe in…the Women’s March, defending Dreamers, the #MeToo movement, the Parkland kids and all the kids around the nation fueling our hearts, giving us a second wind to push for changes in our gun laws.

Getting out there, signs in hand, marching for what we believe in, and being surrounded by others who care passionately about our country and our democracy gives us hope. We are not alone.

2017 Women’s March

2018

2018 March For Our Lives

Action brings empowerment, and Anne reminded us that history shows that just one percent taking to the streets is how things have changed in the past.

One percent.

“Goodness bats last,” she said.

She also said, “Hope is medicine…and water…and the way home. When I laugh again, I’m home. When I’m home, I’m hopeful. Laughter is carbonated holiness…

Hope can be found in calling around. Find hope in your best friends. Get happy by taking care of people who are not even visible to the world…

Feed the hungry…

Go outside and look up. Nature is an elixir. It is where you find the divine…

Do things afraid and in bad moods, but do them…

We have to remember to hit reset and not have the comfort and familiarity of anger and annoyance.” This was an important reminder for me as I’m constantly yelling at the television news, cringing at the latest despicable offense coming from Washington.

Another favorite she attributed to someone else was: “Heaven is a new pair of glasses. When we put them on, we see the awful person, sometimes even ourselves, a bit more gently.”

And then came Anne’s thoughts on writing, which is why I originally went to hear her talk.

Here are a few nuggets…

• Write what you would love to come upon—the kind of book you’d love to read yourself. And read widely—the masters, poetry, everything. See how they did it. Learn from them.

• If you want to write, write. It will be hard–really hard–but if you don’t, you will have a deep sense of regret.

• Stop not writing. It’s a very addictive habit. Be available for this thing inside you that you have to say.

• Stop hitting the snooze button. You don’t know if you’ll be here tomorrow or next year. You can’t wait for perfect circumstances.

• Write a really shitty first draft (amen to that).

• Perfection is the voice of oppression. Do things less well, but do them.

• When you’re stuck, ask for help. You get to ask others to step into it with you. People love to share what they know. It’s a gift to share and give.

• Print out everything and read it. Do not read your work on a digital screen. Print and overprint (and then send money to the Sierra Club, she joked). Don’t cringe. She’s hugely pro-environment. This made me smile because I thought I was the only one who needed to hold paper in hand to really read something.

During the Q&A, she was asked

“How do your book ideas come to you?”

She responded by saying: “By paying attention. Nothing is lost. Being receptive and available to tell your stories.”

Then she was asked to share some of her favorite books, which she drew a blank because there are just so many books. We can all relate to that, right? Eventually she listed a range of books and authors from Vonnegut, Yeats, and E.E. Cummings to Little Women and Little Men, Pippi Longstocking, Anna Karenina and Middle March. Poetry was high on her recommendation list as one can learn so much about how to write exquisitely with few words.

When she was asked which women were her heroes, she quickly rattled off a list of strong women: Gloria Steinem, Hillary, Margaret Atwood…

There was also a question about navigating grief, which hit home, since many people I know have recently lost loved ones, including our family.

She said, “Grief is the way home. It is the hardest and most blessed work we do. Our culture tells us to get over it. It makes people miserable to see someone in grief, but some deaths you never get over. When you lose someone, you go into the ‘Land of the Fucked.’ Your heart is literally broken. It’s like an anvil dropped on you. It’s excruciating—the most pain you’ll ever feel.” It took her years to come to terms with losses in her life, and the more she cried, the more peace she felt. The love and support of Hospice is what helped her most.

When talking about broken hearts, she reminded the audience of Leonard Cohen’s words, “Everything has a crack. That’s how the light gets in.”

Our lovely evening at the Granada ended with a rousing applause for someone who tells it like it is, leans heavily on her friends and faith, even though she’s appalled by Christianity, and reminds us that life is messy and magnificent. Afterward she signed her recently published book, Hallelujah Anyway: Rediscovering Mercy (as in even when things are totally shitty and falling apart, hallelujah anyway).

This blog post is way too long, and it’s far from perfect, but I’m going to take Anne’s advice and not feel oppressed by trying to be perfect. Instead, I’m going to revel in the joy of the writing process and reaching out to reconnect with you once again. Hallelujah to getting back on track.

Until next time, my friends, I will leave you with one of my favorite Tibetan proverbs:

“The secret to living well and longer is: eat half, walk double, laugh triple, and love without measure.”

xo Becky

PS: If you feel like leaving me a comment, I’d love to hear from you! Have you read Anne Lamott’s latest book? Or which one is your favorite?

The Elegance of Reading on Your Writing

Photo of a hedgehogIt has been eons since I’ve written anything here on my blog, and for that I apologize. It’s not because I haven’t thought of you, my fabulous readers/followers, because believe me, I have…often.

The reason my blog has been silent for so long is because my life has been so packed with running, racing, and coaching—my other passions–that something had to give.

That something…which I can barely admit here because it’s truly unthinkable…is…reading.

Gasp. I know.

Considering how much I love to read, it’s not something I ever imagined I’d let happen. But being in constant motion over this past year, I could never keep my eyes open long enough to get to the bottom of a page, or stay focused long enough to swim in the magic of words on a Sunday afternoon.

And here’s the thing: without reading, there is no writing. At least no creative writing.

It’s that painfully simple.

When you are not enveloped in the beauty of language and pulled where your senses are awash in imagination, writing takes on a different quality. Oh sure, you can still knock out little blips here and there, and if you’re lucky, you might even be able to eke out a gem or two, but to fully tap into your inner-writing amazing-ness, you’ve got to read.

Fortunately, after far too long, I’ve finally crossed back into the literary world, thanks to a morning run up the street with my dog.

Photo of neighborhood lending library

Our sweet neighbors set up a little neighborhood lending library in front of their house (yes, I live in Mayberry, thank you very much). On a whim I grabbed The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery.

That’s all it took.

The writing is so fine, I lingered over words and sentences longer than my morning cup of coffee (if you know me, you know how long that can be). We’re talking goosebump producing prose, and characters that make you continually contemplate the over-arching beauty and complexity of the world around us.

After reading this book, I feel like I can breathe again, like my right arm has been reattached, and I’m suddenly back to where I cannot ‘not write.’ It’s the same feeling I had when I knocked out over a dozen chapters of my book in progress, The Art of an Improbable Life, while at the same time writing magazine articles, blog posts and three-quarters of a novel—one whose ending still bumps around in my head.

Who knew that reading could have such a profound affect on one’s writing? Well, of course we all know how important reading is, but until you’ve survived a literary drought, you will never fully understand the depths of its importance.

Now that I’ve finished Barbery’s masterpiece, my mind is gleefully spinning, trying to decide which book to linger over next. I’m searching for one just as compelling as the last so I don’t let old habits creep back in and let other responsibilities become more important than my precious reading time.

Do you have any book recommendations for me? I’d love to hear from you!

Photo of doggy running partner, Doodles

 

PS: In the meantime, I thought I’d share a picture of my big brown running partner, Doodles. This was taken on a rare rainy day here in CA. He doesn’t go far, but somehow he always manages to take me where I need to be–like the lending library up the street.


A Delicious Interview with Editor Krista Harris

Edible Santa Barbara Winter 13 Cover Fortune CookiesWhen I’m not blogging, working on my book, or delving into other creative projects, I have the great pleasure of writing magazine articles. One of my favorite publications to write for, Edible Santa Barbara, is right here in my own backyard.

Krista Harris and her husband, Steve Brown, started Edible Santa Barbara in the spring of 2009 with hopes of sharing in-depth stories behind the food and culinary traditions of Santa Barbara County. This beautifully produced magazine provides a visual and literary feast for anyone interested in food.

This quarter I had the joy of writing about the history of fortune cookies. Though they may not have specific ties to Santa Barbara, per se, fortune cookies do have surprising and intriguing West Coast roots. Several other stories I written for the magazine over the past few years include pieces on artichokes, almonds and latte art.

Krista happens to be one of of my favorite editors to work with, so it gives me great pleasure to interview her here today. Take a peek to see what makes this shaker and mover tick, and see how her passion is elevating Santa Barbara’s food movement.

Portrait of Krista Harris Editor of Edible Santa Barbara

Q: Why did you start Edible SB? What was your motivation? Continue reading

Favorite Five Friday: Habits that Stir My Imagination

It’s easy to be inspired, motivated, “on fire” when you first launch a project. When the glow of excitement fades though, you need to fall back on your habits to keep you moving in the direction of reaching your goal and completing your masterpiece. Here are a few habits I rely on to keep my imagination factory pumping and propelling me forward.

Favorite Five Friday Habits that Stir My Imagination

“Motivation is what gets you started, habit is what keeps you going”–Jim Rohn

What habits do you rely on to stir your imagination? Please share! When I wrote #5 on my list, I was thinking of many of you who often inspire me by the way you view the world. 

Share Your Seven-Word Essay about Your Mom

Happy Mother’s Day to all the beautiful, hard-working mamas of the world! In honor of this special day, I’m hosting a seven-word essay contest. What seven words best describe your mom?  Leave your “mini essay” in the comment box below and share what is/was unique about your mother. Humor is welcome! The winner will have his or her essay posted on my blog along with a photo of you and your mom.

Photo of Mom Green, Becky and Olivia

Here’s mine: Loving, supportive character with fabulous funny bone.

 

The Story That Was Told

Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined the story below being inspired by this photograph of a woman walking along an allee of trees in France, but this is what swirled together during a “progressive story” project I posted on my blog last week. Each person added a new line or idea to the narrative, and voila, this is what it turned into…

Photo of an autumn scene with a woman walking

I never imagined I’d be here at this moment in my life, but…

Grandfather told me in his last letter that he wanted me to always be honest with myself and others. I’ve chosen today to tell my family about my partner.

I never thought I’d choose the weekend of his funeral, but here I am in the very place I swore I’d never come back to, as beautiful as I remember, and still haunted with the very things time and distance would not let me forget.

I spotted Aunt Nadine first, who always had a soft spot for me, and touched her shoulder. For a second she didn’t recognize me and I braced for the familiar pang in my gut as my eyes searched hers expectantly. But then she smiled, and I felt the moment expand with relief and gratitude.

“How are you?” I whispered quietly. Without answering me, she asked, “You are looking restless and nervous; it seems like something is hurting you from deep inside.” I stepped back, shocked that my inner turmoil was visible to others, others I haven’t seen in so many years.

Continue reading

A Story to Be Told…

Last year I was so inspired by my blogging friend, Monica Medina, and the clever progressive story project she created on her blog, Monica’s Tangled Web, I thought I’d give it a whirl myself. Monica simply posted a photograph and wrote the opening sentence to the story. Her readers then took the story and ran with it, adding new plot elements or emotional twists by leaving their contributions in her blog’s comment box. The story ended up being wildly creative and memorable.

So here it goes…based on the photograph below and my opening sentence, please join the fun and help create a story with me.

It’s important that you number your comment so that each person’s new sentence or idea flows in the correct order. For example, if you write the next sentence following my opener, you’d simply write 2. blah blah blah…. The next person would write 3. blah blah blah…. Simple, huh?

From time to time I may throw in a line or two along the way to keep the story going. When it feels like the story has come to its natural conclusion, I will post it in its entirety so you can marvel at your creativity.

Photo of an autumn scene with a woman walking

Here’s the opener:

I never imagined I’d be here at this moment in my life, but…


Savoring the Silent Muse

Olympic torchAt the end of July, when the Olympics kicked off in all its glory, Muse blissfully executed several mesmerizing backflips, complete with multiple mind-blowing triple watusi twists.

Her heart flitted and fluttered, and her skin prickled with excitement as she remembered all the things she loved about the pursuit of excellence.

Her unbridled enthusiasm inspired a river of words to flow from this writer’s fingertips.

Then just as suddenly as Muse’s inspiration took hold, Muse quickly and purposely flitted away.

She didn’t disappear without a flourish though.

No. No. No.

In classic Olympic form, she leaped onto the balance beam, glided across, arms gracefully extended, toes pointed. Then she carried out several impossible flips and dips before finally sailing through the air in an eye-popping dismount.

As she landed she shot me a knowing smile and whispered, “Balance, my friend. Balance. Remember there’s more to life than writing.” 

Huh? Wait a minute. Isn’t she supposed to inspire me to produce my most creative work and encourage me to write, write, and then write some more? 

“Step away from your computer,” she continued, “and savor these delicious weeks of summer with your friends and family.”

Why is she telling me to relax and focus on savoring summer?

Muse clearly knows me better than I know myself.

She’s been watching the ridiculous pace I’ve been keeping this summer, trying to squeeze in way too many events and activities in far too few hours, all the while trying to consistently produce fresh ideas for my blog every few days.

She has seen how in the midst of my blaze of daily activities that I’m often more focused on the end result rather than the journey. More than once she has cringed when she has seen me pay little attention to life’s gorgeous brushstrokes, and even less to its rich details.

Muse has also noticed the crown of hypocrisy I’ve been wearing. While I continually tell my daughter to slow down and enjoy what she is doing while she is doing it, rather than always focusing on what’s next, I continue to blaze on in perpetual motion, always thinking about what I should be doing next.

All of this has made Muse dizzy and cranky, especially as she has watched my mind spin like a hamster wheel. Knowing that blogging only perpetuates my need to be in constant mental motion, she has grown fussy and tired of trying to keep pace.

“If you’re not writing a post, you’re thinking about a post,” she has complained. “If you’re not thinking about a post, you’re worrying about when and what you should post next.”

I tried to ignore her annoying complaints, but Muse finally decided to put her foot down once and for all, the only way she knew how–by simply flitting away and wrapping me in a snug blanket of writer’s block.

Muse did not utter another word. She didn’t need to; her silence was clear: “Creativity needs time to percolate while living life, not just while writing about it. Turn off your computer and follow the advice you always give your daughter. Walk the walk instead of just talking the talk.”

So now you know why I haven’t been writing this past month. I’ve been living large—taking the advice of my wise and silent muse—savoring summer with my friends and family—enjoying life one slow tick on the clock at a time, and reveling in the richness of its myriad details.

Stepping away from my computer has allowed me to…

Continue reading

Apple-icious News and a Contest to Celebrate It

Steve and i book coverAfter sixty-five days in Apple’s “review process,” our ibook, Steve & i is finally available for purchase in the iTunes store.

We nearly gave up on Apple, but then remembered our reason for creating this book: to celebrate Steve Jobs and the friendship he and my husband, Jeffrey Aaronson, forged when they were both young and hungry, and to raise money for cancer research by contributing a portion of the sale of each book to prominent cancer institutes.

It’s hard not to chuckle though, wondering what the fine folks at Apple were doing with our book for the past sixty-five days. Keep in mind Steve & i is a little powerhouse 40 page book–including photographs and a video, and it took Amazon and Barnes & Noble less than a week to upload it onto their sites.

Just for fun…because I’m in such a good mood…I thought I’d hold a contest.

Leave a comment with your answer to: “What do you think Apple was doing with our book for the past 65 days?” and your name will automatically be entered into a random drawing for a $10 iTunes gift card. Humor is always appreciated!

Enter by Sunday, June 10th at midnight. The winner will be announced on Monday, June 11th.

In the meantime, we hope you’ll download a copy of the book for $2.99, and if you feel inspired by what you read, please leave a review. Your continued support and kindness is very much appreciated (and will also bring you a bucketload of good karma)!

Here’s the link to the iTunes store: Steve & i: One Photographer’s Improbable Journey with Steve Jobs

In the event you don’t have an iPad or idevice, here are other ways to purchase the book:
Amazon Kindle ebook
Barnes and Noble Nook ebook

Here’s to being inspired, re-living an unique piece of history, and seeing beyond the icon, Steve Jobs, to the complex and charismatic human being who not only “put a ding in the universe,” but did it in a way nobody else ever could.

Photo of Steve Jobs, 1984 inside Apple Computer headquarters, Cupertino, CA

Steve Jobs inside Apple Headquarters, 1984, just prior to the launch of the first Macintosh 128K computer. ©Jeffrey Aaronson

“An absolutely gorgeous, moving and important memoir. Steve Jobs was complicated, sweet, mad, inspirational beyond reason. Thank you for sharing this.”

                                        –Review by Doug Menuez