By Connie Tancredi Brice Girvan
We do this is rehearsals sometimes. Our goal is also to have this degree of presence in a show too. Even a show that has a practiced element, i.e a script or choreography, this presence lets you discover in that honed structure.
How it works:
You play the game. You listen, react. There's not a leader. You let the game show itself in the group or partnership. It can manifest in movement or sound. When you are warmed up words can come. That's how I've experienced playing the game, anyway. I'm sure there are lots of ways for it to manifest.
I find in playing the game a presence, an alertness that primes me to play and accept rather than the alertness readying me to run or collide or catch or throw. It's like "en garde" but the following action isn't to defend or oppose but join to then move together to where neither of you know.
Colours are brighter as my senses sharpen. I listen acutely ready to catch and hold and leap with the offer coming from the thing that is made by us.
It's really lovely. It's exciting. It's being actively present.
When I try to "be present" often it's like sitting by a stream and quieting my breath to hear better. Listening for a squirrel natter or a frog splash. It's calming and lessening my energy to feel the other energy around me, like sinking to the bottom of a body of water, resisting floating. That's one kind of "being present".
Playing the game, the noise of my breath or the twitch of my finger is a welcome clue as to where we're going.
When I yearn to connect better with someone
which is the positive way of saying
my eyes would rather roll
and my shoulders slump because