Netwerking

I am writing this sitting at a brunch bar at my boyfriend's father's place in the Adelaide hills. The sun is glistening over the paddock, I can see birds and butterflies and hear my boyfriend jamming on the keyboard. We slept in a tree house last night.
Aside from being here for such splendid adventures where your only obligation is to chill (not easy for me sometimes) and no one notices if you stay in your harem pants that you may have slept in all day, I'm in this part of the world for the spectacle that is Adelaide Fringe Festival.

I have wanted to come to this festival for ages. 
It has intimidated me though, hearing about how competitive for audiences and venues it is, about how everyone is an artist or a producer and in multiple shows and get introduced to amazing connections and inspired and all. How there are multiple shows on every night and actual workshops and seminars that are free for artists. How every hour is filled with art and exploration. Writing this sentence now; I see that this is actually something to be incredibly excited by, as opposed to intimidated- but potato potaaato.

I am here for a minor role in a friend's show; which is actually a true gift because I get all those perks with minimal financial risk......but, and this almost totally contradicts my last blog but contrast is what keeps things spicy right?
BUT...the ego stroke aka stage highs (any performer/musician/ extrovert will know what I am on about) aka having people see you do a cool thing that you made and worked really hard on and getting to wear cool costumes every night is not there. 
SO, my same confidence and fire to get netwerking (the definition on that in a hot sec) doesn't come as easily.

NETWERKING is different to NETWORKING

Networking is something you do between offices, colleagues, friends, at small parties, art galleries etc; where you chat to someone you don't know about what you do and turns out they just so happen to hire people like you and oh how nice well maybe you should look me up sometime and maybe then in a few days they send you a friendly nice to meet you let's have coffee and talk about working for me email.

NeTWERKING is what you do at Adelaide Fringe. (You probably do it at Melbourne Fringe, but Melb Fringe is really cliquey so it's probably better to call it Netbumkissing)
For those who think the macarena is the latest dance craze; I am going to shatter that bubble by explaining to you that twerking is making the macarena look like bland macaroni.
Here are some pictures to describe it to you, see the bottom one.

Basically it's like a pelvic thrust but backwards, and can be done against a wall, in a handstand, in the splits and of course, in da club.
When one Netwerks, one not only must meet and greet, one must do it in a fabulous, captivating but slightly aggressive way. You've got to show them how much junk (talent) you have in your humps (person) and make it all feel like a party. After all, it can be really fun.

For me, I am caught in this little nook where I want to be as authentic and grounded as possible but still get my netwerk on- I mean you have to be in it to win it right?
In a festival filled with colour, costumes, professional show offs, how does one make an impression?
After spending the morning relaxing in the hills eating buckwheat and tumeric and listening to the sound of the pond and the frogs, it takes some adjusting to get hustling the hustle...and even worse, bustle. 

"But what do you mean?"
You ask.
"You are crazy, confident and did a weird open mic thing last week as you wrote in last week's blog which I really appreciated"
You say.

Yes, see, right next to that confidence is comparison and competition which is the thief of courage and joy. It is what makes us feel like we need to not wear our favourite clothes but the ones that we think are cool, or speak in a certain way to the right people. Last night we were standing outside a show and I couldn't concentrate on what the person in front of me was saying because I was looking around for someone I know from the industry to netwerk with. 
Ultimate conversational faux pas. 

The best kind of networking is being kind, being reliable and being good at what you do.

For me, there's nothing better than seeing someone doing an amazing thing onstage and then finding out that they are also a wonderful person.
A person who has lots of friends who they introduce you to who are also really nice, and so you are having fun and go out dancing.
None of them are trying to prove how hot they are, or looking around the club to see if anyone is looking at them, they are just getting lost in the music.
You talk to them about loads of stuff, like where they grew up and what their dog is called, and suddenly "Low" by Flo Rider comes on.
You suddenly recall all those fly hip hop Michael Jackson dance moves and everyone is getting their groove on. 
You look across at your new friends squatting low and doing reverse pelvic thrusts and realise that these guys are great and make you inspired and feel good.
That you are going to stay in touch and try go to more events like this where they are.

And THAT
Is Netwerking.

Jj

Outside the Zomfort Cone

Something that I haven't mentioned in the blog is that usually once a week, I don head gear (not a fruit hat), put in a mouthguard (not for teeth whitening) and spar for an hour as the sun comes up on a Tuesday. 
I have been sparring for 3 years, ever since becoming a member of the wonderful community that is North Melbourne Boxing and Fitness, and, though many people think I am crazy to agree to being punched in the head, it never ceases to teach me so many lessons.
1. On a physical level- about pushing yourself, focusing on one thing for a specific amount of time, breathing properly and staying calm (sounds like yoga; go figure)
2. If you don't move your head, you get hit.
3. On a mental level- you can't get overwhelmed by emotions.....some people like to get angry to fight, but I am one of those people that when I get angry sometimes I cry, and, well, crying really doesn't go well in the ring.
4. The major thing though it to continue the practice of climbing out of the zomfort cone.

 - To me, the zomfort cone (like the comfort zone) is the corner of an 'L' couch, where you are so wonderfully nestled and warm that even to contemplate getting up to go to the bathroom feels like effort.
- It's your daily routine that works so well, if it wasn't so routine.
- It's where you are good at things and everything comes easy

Now, the thing I loved about boxing when I first started was how I wasn't good at it, how there were people who would beat me every time. 3 years of consistent 3-4 times a week training down the track, my ego has caught up with me (the ego is so fast, but I shouldn't tell it that, I mean, it knows already, right?)
There's times where my head is bigger than my headgear can protect it. Going up against males in the class who are good sports, but still very strong can make the ego bruised.
The ego, in it's sweaty, bruised heap is telling me "this is no fun, I didn't wake up at 6am for this."
Briefly, I listen to it.
I consider just going back to the technique classes, no contact.
And then I realise that the ego needs a good bruising. It needs to be shown that it's not all it's hyped itself up to be and kicked in the dust, because it's there, that the ego needs to realise it was being a bad egg-o.

Following?
Essentially, that was my lesson this week, I thought it appropriate to share.
Then, last night, I went to an open mic- art party at this quirky house up the road from me. I genuinely wound up sitting in the corner of the L-couch, nestled in there watching the other brave souls get up and perform their new works to a lounge room of people. From my nestled little spot I thought "Yeah, I'm a performer, I could do that" (hello ego) "oh.. but I don't think I could with no costumes, everyone just there, on the floor."
The organiser signed me up for an open mic spot. Since I impulsively highlighted my hair that afternoon, I thought I might be impulsive and give this a shot too.
Gingerly, I told him I wanted to go early on in the night so I could go home. 
During the break, at 10.30, I told him I really wanted to go soon, but had committed to the challenge of getting up there (I had planned to tell a very dramatic story about a bee sting I got one time)
So he told me that if I did this other thing, I could go sooner. That thing was "room activation" where small groups would go to a different room of the house for a different performance. 
There, in someone else's bedroom, I ended up doing a thing to 4 small groups of people, so I did 4 x 5 minute performances. 
Flashbacks of my open mic debut when I was six at an athletics camp were still strong in my mind.
In that situation, there is no where to hide. They didn't really know what they were in for, and neither was I. 
Oh man, what a rush.

I left straight after, drenched in sweat, feeling exposed and weird. 
But now it's done, and I have written this post to help me process it, I am happy, though still shocked. 
Sharing it with you still brings back that exposed feeling, but after my performances last night (some better than others) the sky hasn't fallen in, so I guess I will be ok.

The final thing that made me commit to it was I was speaking to a friend earlier on in the evening I had not seen for a while. He looked so well, and was telling me how he has quit smoking, gone vegan and is sober. For him coming from a family of alcoholics, it was hard.
Going to a family event and not getting slizzered is the definition of being outside of the zomfort cone.
Bit by bit doing the hard thing but realising down the track it is the good thing makes it easier and easier.

And this is what inspired me to give up my spot in the L couch and cosy up to that which makes us uncomfortable. 

I would love to hear what you have been taking on lately that makes the hairs on your neck stand up a bit.

Jj