It matters that I start something. I don’t have to start everything; That’d be tragic. I don’t have to start many things, nor even more than one thing. But it matters that I start something. The knowledge is in the doing of that something. It matters that I go through contemplation (choosing just the right something), then into commitment, and then… that’s where I often struggle.
I’d like to propose a different view: that struggle is the place of growth, learning, curiosity, love, creativity. Struggle is an incredible opportunity for being creative.
I struggle when there’s a huge gap between the know-naught starting point, and my being one of those effortless creatives who get stuff done. Those who get stuff done well and demonstrate craftsmanship and care and pride and joy! (Gazing at the horizon,) there’s the thing. I know what it can be. I see how to begin, but I see hills and I know there will be challenges. Don’t turn away. (Gazing at the horizon,) if there’s somewhere I want to be, I need to start walking.
What are the essential components of a meaningful movement practice, and how do internal and external elements contribute to personal growth and self-awareness?
Soisci Porchetta joins Craig Constantine to discuss the significance of the unexpected, creative expression, and faith in transformative practices.
[…] as a student, [you] cannot be spending 90% of your time with me […] for the majority of people, I really am this— like a supplement. Take these organic fresh herbs and go and thrive. But you have to go and hunt your own meat and vegetables and forage and, you know, have your own thing.
~ Soisci around 23:52
Soisci Porchetta and Craig Constantine range from movement practices to the philosophy of learning and the importance of embracing a generalist approach. Soisci shares insights into her experiences with various physical practices, such as Brazilian jiu-jitsu and handstands, highlighting the significance of embodied knowledge and the value of a beginner’s mindset.
It’s really going full circle from: We ditched chairs and, [we] open up the hips and the spine and the ankles and the knees and squat and elongate positions… And I do a lot of stuff on the floor. I’m most comfortable on the floor. But I think, like, if I can’t sit comfortably in a chair, something is not right as well!
~ Soisci Porchetta around 34:14
The conversation gets to the idea of cycles in one’s journey, drawing parallels between the first love for a particular practice and subsequent explorations. Soisci emphasizes the importance of observation, creativity, and faith in navigating diverse practices, providing anecdotes that underscore the transformative power of such perspectives. Their conversation wanders through the intricacies of movement, meditation, and the paradoxes of learning.
Takeaways
Importance of Embodied Knowledge — The significance of embodied knowledge, drawing parallels between movement practices like Brazilian jiu-jitsu and handstands to highlight the depth that comes from physical engagement rather than mere intellectual understanding.
The Beginner’s Mindset — The value of maintaining a beginner’s mindset, exploring how approaching new practices with openness and curiosity allows for continual growth and prevents the pitfalls of dogmatism.
Observation as a Practice — The practice of keen observation, extending beyond the physical to encompass thoughts, feelings, and the environment.
The Role of Faith — Not in a religious context but as a trust in the process of learning.
Expression in Movement — The idea of creative expression within movement practices, emphasizing that creativity is increasingly becoming a vital aspect of their approach to various disciplines.
“I wonder what would happen if I created a daily podcast, and did nothing else— if I didn’t tell anyone, didn’t share on social media, nothing. Just publish the thing every day.” So I went and made it happen, over 1,300 times. The answer to “what if?” is: I would receive a cornucopia of benefits simply from doing the work, even if no one heard a single one of them. I received: practice speaking extemporaneously, lessons in dramatic reading, countless tiny lessons of microphone technique, countless nuanced insights of physiology, and much much more.
Unfortunately, over the years, I became fixated on the least-important part of my original question: Daily.
I think this dynamic, to one degree or another, impacts anyone who has been fortunate enough to experience some success in their field. Doing important work matters and sometimes this requires sacrifices. But there’s also a deep part of our humanity that responds to these successes — and the positive feedback they generate — by pushing us to seek this high at ever-increasing frequencies.
It’s become clear that maintaining the pace is a problem, and so I’ve changed the pace. And in a blink, I feel I’m again focused on that still-overflowing cornucopia of benefits.
[A]s I write I think about all sorts of things. I don’t necessarily write down what I’m thinking; It’s just that as I write I think about things. As I write, I arrange my thoughts. And rewriting and revising takes my thinking down even deeper paths. No matter how much I write, though, I never reach a conclusion. And no matter how much I rewrite, I never reach the destination. Even after decades of writing, the same still holds true.
There are only two things which seem to work for me: Plain old discipline, and regular, high-intensity exercise. Make a plan. Work the plan. Follow through. I don’t have to finish it all. (That used to be a huge problem too.) Each day, make a plan. And yes, some days the plan is, “today there’s no plan just follow your nose.” Where the mental freedom to believe that’s a good plan is banked during the days with a more plan-looking plan. The exercise acts as a baseline reset.
The result? An inevitable sense of disappointment. A sense that other people are doing better than us. We feel guilt. We feel pressure. We think “Oh, if only I had more money, or a better job, or lived in France where the child care benefits were different, if I had more custody, then things would be good…”
Slowly, daily, my false sense of urgency ratchets up. It’s not healthy, but going out and doing something high intensity resets my personal brand of insanity. Every time I’m in the worst of moods, all I have to do is head out and just start running like I hate myself. (This is rare, but frequent enough that it’s useful to have a strategy ready.) I can go just a couple minutes running like I stole something, and then my crazy-brain starts bargaining… okay, uh, if we can just slow down a bit, I promise to stop acting crazy. I’m pretty sure that’s not the best way to deal with things, but it’s definitely a coping strategy that works well. And the side effects are awesome.
Basically, when you get to my age, you’ll really measure your success in life by how many of the people you want to have love you actually do love you. I know people who have a lot of money, and they get testimonial dinners and they get hospital wings named after them. But the truth is that nobody in the world loves them. If you get to my age in life and nobody thinks well of you, I don’t care how big your bank account is, your life is a disaster.