Respecting the circle! An Arthurian tale...
BlairDrums@aol.com
Wed, 17 Jan 1996 20:18:13 -0500
Blair Hornbuckle here...
Arthur wrote:
>After fruitlessly trying to get an " Ego-distracter" to support the drum
>circle groove, rather than constantly, and loudly, soloing against it, I
once
>had to stop a circle in "mid-flight".
>That was a gutsy move on my part, and I wouldn't have done it unless I knew
>deep in my Facilitator's heart that I was speaking and acting for, and with,
>the 'consensus' of the group
I appreciate your willingness to take risks like that Arthur, and walk
the fine line between asserting your own will/ego/motives and being moved
to speak on behalf of the group. I witnessed a similiar situation, and
I'll never forget it...
(this got a bit long; hope it's worthwhile to you folks. I'd prefer to be
telling this story about myself, which would make it a Double Ego Death
story, but it's about a fellow workshop participant (not on the list, I
believe). If it gets back to him, I hope any memories it conjures include
a sense of appreciation.)
You were in Buffalo, NY for several days of "playshops," including the
6/8 for intermediates. Forty of us were doing the train thing (starting
slow and speeding up together, with no lead to set the increase in tempo;
you'd told us to be sensitive to each other, speed up _with_ the group,
then stop and listen when we lost it, instead of burning spastic,
confused motions into our muscle memory).
We'd been through the exercise once or twice, and I remember feeling calm
and steady, tuned in and having fun. I was sitting in the circle between
Emile "Papa" Lattimer, the loved and respected drumming elder here, and
my friend David. The three of us ("ethnos" all the way, to use your
phrase) had played together for dance classes for a few years, and had an
easy time following each other (especially sitting adjacent), and the
group as a whole.
As the train sped up, everyone but the three of us and one player near
the head of the circle, close to you, had dropped out. We cruised
together for a few moments, then felt the discord as the ashiko player
shot up like a rocket, breaking the steadily increasing pace. The three
of us stopped together instantly, feeling the discord of an impending
train crash. You hopped out of your chair and jumped around in front of
the (now solo) drummer, up and down, cheering him on and on, faster and
faster, into an increasing frenzy, then leapt into and down to one knee,
stopping the crescendo on a dime like the greatest of band leaders.
You began applauding the _winner of the race_, and the group followed
your lead with more applause. "Very nice," you proclaimed. "Except that
you violated the cohesion of the village to benefit your own ego, and you
stopped listening." (not actually a direct quote, but the same idea.)
Booom. Stunned silence, as you went on to shred this guy for a few
moments more. You explained how Ego Death is good for us all, and then
told a story about a humiliating ego death moment you had "enjoyed" some
years before. The ashiko player sat with his head up, but face turning
beet red, shifting in discomfort.
He (it is, of course, most often a male) had handed you his big, bold ego
on a silver platter, and you had it for lunch, without mercy. You also
balanced that shocker with enough humor and grace that he could stick it
out, and even be made an example of again later (a bit more gently, as I
recall, but even so -- more Ego Death moments, which he was evidently
volunteering for, yet again!).
I remember thinking how I was sure glad that hadn't been me (a sure sign
that my ego has a few good deaths ahead), and appreciating his courage to
even stay in the room.
I talked to someone a year later who had been present, and he said he
thought you'd gone overboard. I felt you'd handled it just right, and had
a sense that you had the group's support. Maybe I misread the group's
energy, but either way: you're walking the fine line when you lead and
teach, and it's commendable.
Blair Hornbuckle
Rochester, NY
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