Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life's desire
- John O'Donohue
Photo by Chichi Onyekanne on Unsplash
Here we are, at the beginning. We’re getting ready to start. It’s beginning.
Isn’t there something crackly, electric, fun about beginning? Beginnings are riveting, juicy, fearless. They bring together the pink incomprehensibleness of a sunrise, the earthy warmth of a cup of coffee with a heaping spoonful of hope, of actual optimism for what’s before us. I love to begin. I love this.
Maybe that’s why it’s so painful to hear these ideas that it’s all over. We’re at the end. We’ve inherited a hopeless mess, and wherever you look is ruination. The future track is set, we don’t have the agency to redirect it because it was put in motion by choices other people made. Really?
I have news for you: dystopia is so yesterday. There’s nothing cool about those stories, sorry, they are a sham and pathetic excuse for entertainment, created by unimaginative and bored minds. All they do is justify your grotesque fascination with doom-scrolling, which actually just makes it worse. Stop doing that, please, for your sake and mine and everyone’s. Reboot. You can begin again. We are beginning again. We are emerging anew, today, in every moment, including right now.
What’s true is that every morning the sun rises on this insane, gorgeous garden-planet we came to live in for awhile. Every day holds a million opportunities to recreate ourselves, our relationships, and our collective experiences. And you can make the choice to charge your moments with the energy of beginnings through the way you use your attention and your body.
Begin again, today. It’s potent. It takes away the dubious luxury of making excuses. Instead of making an excuse, you can just start over. You can’t have missed the boat. You can build the boat, now. And whenever you start, that’s the beginning.
Beginnings. I’ve been studying improvisation for over twenty years, and I’ve learned that beginnings are the lifeblood of improv. As an improviser develops, she is able to perceive beginnings more finely, and create them more frequently. And improvisers who are great at creating beginnings — dozens of micro-beginnings every single minute — are the freshest, most innovative ones. They are also the ones that everyone wants to jam with, because they inspire everyone around them, by helping everyone pay attention to all that’s going on in the present moment. Have you ever been around someone whose presence helps you feel so, so alive? They are improvising, they are cultivating gardens of beginnings in each interaction, millisecond by millisecond.
The art of improv holds real gifts for these changing times. What’s not an improvised collaborative form, today? Parenting, sales, research, teaching, service…we’re all improvising, but how skillfully? Do you feel stuck carrying out something you think was started a long time ago by others? How often are you finding that energy of beginning from which all things are possible? How well are you bringing out that juicy attentiveness and co-creation in others?
This is a beginning, right here. You see it that way, because of the line that starts of a new bit of writing, that you’re deciding whether or not to commit to.
Whenever we conceptualize something as an event, we can see a beginning. A pitch begins a play. A kickoff starts a project. An overture opens a show.
But, here’s the real surprise: Any event can have many many beginnings, nested within one another. Like this one, right now.
Unlocking this was actually a huge discovery in my growth as an improviser in my practice of Argentine tango. Tango is a collaborative social dance, and a joyful night out dancing tango is really just a cascade of quantum beginnings, intrapersonally and interpersonally. There are the big obvious ones, like the start of a dance set, or the start of a song. But nested within those are the subtle ones, like the start of a musical passage, and even within that, the beginning of a shared step. And, even deeper within that are nano-beginnings — like the tiny start of your partner’s inhale, or a slight increase of pressure between the palms, or the barely noticeable arch of an eyebrow — each with dozens of potential implications and responses.
Tuning in to beginning-ness during an evening of tango was a game-changer for me. I think it’s because a real, joyful, free night of tango is filled with difficulties: many, many, many mistakes, misunderstandings, thwarted desires, confusing things, moments of self-doubt, fears of others’ judgment, disappointments and embarrassments, as each carries out their unique quest for flow, for rapture. Those things are all the reality of tango. For everyone. That’s what happens in a space that’s designed to get two people to meet one another deeply, against all odds, in a complex and distraction-filled world, and to share a moment of embodied connecting.
And that’s why learning to start over is the master key to unlocking joy: you realize you have the power to turn those difficulties into new starts by simply re-seeing them, including them. Yikes! Reboot. Oops! Renew. Aargh! Refresh.
I believe the challenges we face on the tango dance floor are part of life off the dance floor too. Mistakes, misunderstandings, thwarted desires, confusing things, moments of self-doubt, fears of others’ judgment, disappointments and embarrassments — aren’t these part of every day? They are there in any tango you might find yourself in, whether it’s at the office, at school, at your home.
I invite you to take the art of improvisation into the micro-moments of your day through the practice of beginning again, now. It might be just what your brain was waiting for. Drop the grudges and judgy thoughts and there’s fresh open space right inside you for a million tiny flowers to wake up and smile. I am hearing my tiny niece’s questioning laughter as I type, my young nephew playing piano. The scale begins again and again and each note is a new song. Turn your life into a tango, by turning your attention into a magic wand that magically heals errors by simply starting over. How could this moment be The Beginning? What if you just left off punctuating those endings and instead wondered
What you can do to begin again, now
Give your body more beginnings per day as you work and learn in your home. How do you do that? Doing something different and specific with your body is a way to start a new “event.” Here are some examples of beginnings you can architect into your day:
Make the most of natural beginnings. I’ve written elsewhere on morning rituals, which I believe are essential to a connected and contributing life.
Change your setting. Move to a different station in the house, or go outside for a few minutes to see anew.
Interact with water. Wash your face, take a shower, wash dishes, drink a bunch of water. When our bodies interact with water we feel the freshness of a new start.
Eat something. Something crackly is usually good to create that crackle of possibility, but anything (healthy) you eat is likely to feel like a bit of a reboot.
Go on a walk. Even just walking up and down your street will generate a fresh beginning.
Do a micro-workout. There are lots of 10-minute workouts on online platforms that are great for a mid-day reboot. Obé Fitness is my favorite for super fun and brief high-intensity dance workouts.
Play a piece of music you associate with starting a new phase. Start to use the same song intentionally as a way to create a start. For me, The Edge of Glory and Alexander Hamilton are happy ways to begin a new day-part or activity.
Go for a quick run. Even five minutes around the block will do.
Take a nap. You probably need one anyway! Napping is a great way to start fresh.
Interact with fire. Lighting a candle or burning a little bit of a fragrant herb can refresh your world in seconds.
Learn and practice the “neurological reboot.” Robert Gilman of Context Institute points out that when we squinch up the muscles of our face, we let go of the past and center ourselves in the present moment, intentionally creating a micro-beginning. Wiggling your nose, making funny faces, squishing your eyebrows — it’s an intelligent way to reboot your internal chemistry.
Want to geek out on the art of improv and how the practice of beginning can transform society? Read jazz musician and educator Ed Sarath’s extraordinary book, Improvisation, Creativity, and Consciousness which has inspired me hugely in this work.
How are you beginning again? I wish you a joyful beginning of the rest of your life now. And now. And now.
Angel heart.
Is this another ending or is it a start?
Is there any way they could be apart?
In the end -
We come full circle again.
- Nick Barber