Walking the Imagination

 Between being fully immersed in the classes at my new 3-week school, commuting some two hours round-trip and in the evening, being a charming  guest for my friends Yana and Dave (who are so generously hosting me at their house), not much time for Blogpost reflection. But today, I have some time in-between classes, so following the last post, worth sharing another side of commuting. 

 

My new routine begins with a short walk to a bus stop, a 10-minute bus ride, transfer to the subway and a 15-minute ride and then a choice of walking 20 plus minutes to the school or taking another bus. Having enjoyed the opportunity to walk between 3 and 8 miles a day in my “retired” life, it’s a good opportunity to walk. But not just for the fresh air and exercise. 

 

By resisting my phone, resisting listening to my Audible book, resisting listening to music in earbuds (never have really done that), my mind is free to roam alongside the legs. Since I’m walking to a day of teaching, it naturally turns to my classes and powerfully so. I find the mind is more alert, focused and engaged in the act of walking than merely sitting. 

 

Years back, I wrote: “All things are created thrice. First, in the act of dreaming—living the class ahead of time in one’s imagination. Secondly, in the act of doing and all the adjusting and responding and following the energy of the class when deciding the next step. Finally, in the act of reflecting— what worked well, what needs further fine-tuning, what the logical next step is.”

 

And so, dreaming the class while walking has borne some fresh, ripe and delicious fruit. I have so much material to fall back on, but it’s still my responsibility and my pleasure to constantly re-imagine it to keep it alive and vibrant and forever now. Yesterday, I made up a new counter-melody to a Green Sally Up arrangement I made 43 years ago and it’s swingin’! Today I made up entirely new verses to another song/arrangement I did some 18 years ago. Walking gives me time to keep it circulating in both my mind and my voice (singing out loud—no one is around on the sidewalk!). By the time I arrive at school, I had three verses and in the five minutes at school before the kids came in, I already changed them. Including making up a whole new one in the middle of the class itself. That dreaming also included how to begin, how to teach it in an engaging way. 

 

Did the kids feel how fresh and live the class was because of those acts of dreaming? You bet your life! This was not “turn to page 25 and let’s read the same paragraph I’ve read with kids for 45 years and asked the same questions.” 

 

I think a quality that seems to have accompanied me my whole life is an intolerance for sameness, my incapacity to just mouth the words and go through mindless routine. Some part of me demands a vibrant presence fully mindful of the energy in the air around me and the energies circulating inside of me. Always asking, “How else can we do this? What else can we do? What’s needed now? What am I feeling that needs to be expressed?”

 

And that’s what made this extraordinary gifts of Orff Schulwerk and Jazz so perfect for the way I’m put together. What keeps it all so fresh 51 years after I first began teaching. And to bring it full-circle, it’s the act of physically walking the imagination and mentally imagining the walking that I’m finding so energizing and meaningful. 

 

And now the next class is at the door.