Proximity
May 24, 2018
Every three or four days I encounter a lone bat. Tonight, my final night in Samoa this time around, a bat sailed silently overhead just as I was getting in my car to send out this last writing. I’ve never been so close to so many bats as I have this time around (save for one childhood incident…yikes). A few days ago, I saw only a shadow, passing over me, the bat executing a lovely spiral somewhere above that I couldn’t see because of the sun.
In class this week it occurred to me how easily the workshop participants picked up on the idea of not simply delivering their workshop presentations from the default front of the room, but to circulate into the crowd to create relationships with their audience, encourage their future young audiences to be more comfortable participating and to be acutely aware of their audiences’ reactions and, potentially, needs. However, it wasn’t simply that they suddenly ‘walked amongst their audience.’ They demonstrated a kind of genuine eagerness to relate to their (yet to be) audience. It brought to mind the kind of physical closeness that is so a part of here. A comfort of being with. There is certainly something to the idea of living on a small island in homes with extended families that necessitates embracing the close physical proximity, but there is also the sense of comfort that comes from having a presence so nearby and present.
I’ll admit that I am not one who easily welcomes such physical proximity. I don’t like lines, especially those crowded lines at popular events. I’ll skip the event simply to avoid the line. But I think that in those cases it as analogous to magnets that repel. Strangers put into the forced position of having to be close to each other.
So I enjoyed watching the ease with which the workshop participants took to this idea, as though it were an obvious choice that they hadn’t yet used because they had been taught to deliver formal presentations at the front of the audience. Speak Loud! Make Eye Contact! Don’t Show Mistakes! Smile (fakely)! The permission to break that formal distancing opened up a kind of joy during our workshop time that gave their practice presentations more warmth and personality.
I love these little discoveries that open up a world of possibility. In fact, the participants noted how much fun they were having and now looked forward to their future performance/workshops. In the first days of our workshop, one noted how they often felt bored by the experiences. A few days ago one noted that he often tried to avoid being the workshop facilitator because it ‘exposed’ him. Today he noted that he wants to get out there and make this work happen again.
And what did I do? I was kind of like that shadow bat, pulling off an impressive circular glide. I opened up awareness of something that is always lurking around but sometimes we just don’t see. The participants just needed to realize what they already possess that would give permission to have fun and make great connections with their (coming soon) audiences.
What a joy to be in the proximity of those discoveries.