Weblog
Sometimes, fate or God or whatever you believe in decides to treat you to the thrill of a lifetime by offering you a taste of greatness when it truly counts the most. For a passing moment, you get to be the star of the show and understand what it feels like to be recognized for an insurmountable triumph all your own. It evokes new and exciting feelings that make it impossible not to smile and laugh. It’s the kind of thing you dream about, and it’s the kind of thing that makes you stop and say, “Wow… I did it.”
Showtime
My breakdance crew was asked to perform at a charity event last weekend, and of the two pieces that we performed, I botched the first with a sloppy execution of a routine that I even choreographed myself. In the excitement and hype that oft surrounds breakdancing, I let loose more than necessary and forgot where I was and what I was doing. I spent the next forty minutes before our next appearance being an emokid backstage, appropriately crying out in frustrated anguish every ten seconds and stressing about my new persona as the (tall) guy who messed up.
Reality came knocking, so I consigned my shame to the back of my mind for later self-criticism and psyched myself out for our next piece: a mock battle. In keeping with b-boy tradition, we voted against choreographing or scripting the battle, preferring to let it unfold naturally as a synthesis of our individual styles and attitudes. It’s not clear whether the audience—mostly people without first-hand knowledge of b-boy culture—understood the paradigm, but we hoped they would at least be able to appreciate it in some way or at least enjoy the atmosphere and energy.
Early in the battle, I got called out (i.e. challenged, provoked, etc. by an opponent), and without any lingering anxiety about my failure earlier in the evening, I took to the dance floor. Now in the right context and frame of mind, I again let loose. I went for it, I committed, and I executed the most physically impressing feat of my life. I couldn’t believe it. For the two or three seconds that held my body suspended in the air, I was aware of only one sensory experience. I could hear, and what I could hear was the cheering of my crew around me, growing louder and louder to a final, deafening roar.
(See it on YouTube [@ 4m05s].)
In the ensuing moments, I don’t think my mind knew how to cope with such a heightened sense of euphoria, so it chose a purely cathartic emotional response. I closed my eyes, held my head in my hands, and screamed. Anyone looking on was probably frightened, but I didn’t care; I was too happy.
In Perspective
I know I’m starting to gamble with arrogance here, but I’m really all for modesty, and it’s definitely been long enough since that day for me to dismiss the whole episode without letting it get to my head. After all, similar and more difficult moves are performed all the time and with higher merit in the greater b-boy scene, and I’m not even sure the audience actually understood that what I achieved was, above all else, a personal best.
I guess what I’m really just striving to hold on to is that weightless feeling and the freedom to be perfectly unabashed in front of all those people. It’s an uplifting, spirited vitality that makes you, in a very basic way, happy to be alive.
Why We Try
Anyone who is significantly devoted to a sport or any of the performing arts may understand where I am coming from. We so often find ourselves in situations that evaluate our ability to perform under all sorts of pressures, and yet it seems that some of the greatest moments to emerge from these experiences take us completely by surprise. Sometimes, you just can’t anticipate the one thing that will confirm the worth of all your best efforts. Sometimes, you get used to telling yourself that what you do is just fun or that it keeps you busy or that it keeps you in shape. You thrive on that normalcy. And then, when you least expect it, it happens. You score that goal, or you nail that solo. You shine. And then you realize, “This is why. This is why I practice all the time. This is why I keep trying.”
There are times when you just get lucky or when things really do work out in your favor, and in those cases, you can only hope to recognize that fortune in whatever form it takes. But there will be a time when you actually do exact some measure of greatness, and as extraordinary and unbelievable as it may seem, there is ambition to be found in your commitment to and love of a dream, and that is an incontestable triumph.