Defining Flow

(This article has been expanded from my original post on hooping.org)

"Flow" is  term we tend to throw around a lot in the hooping community. We describe hoop-stars like Mona and Spiral as having "flow." We strive to cultivate it in our hoop-practice. But what exactly are we striving for? You see, when we talk about flow, we're actually talking about two different ideas that have become linked through digital alchemy.

On one hand, drawing on the work on  Mihály Csíkszentmihályi, hoopers conceptualize flow as a mental state where daily worries, time, self-criticism, and doubt drop away. The hooper enters a mind-state where s/he is completely immersed in the moment, in the movement. Many hoopers describe this state as a kind of heightened awareness where they reach beyond their normal limitations and they become one with the hoop. Artists in all different forms describe similar experiences and Chomsky studied those experiences to create his theories about "flow."

On the other hand, we also tend to use "flow" to describe a hooper whose skill, enthusiasm, and style communicate a sense easy grace or general bad-ass-ness. When someone appears to be totally blissing or rocking out, we say they have flow. In this case, we're describing fluidity, ease of movement, and flawless transitions. We're describing what their movement communicates to us, rather than their mind-state, because as much as a video can communicate emotion, we really have no idea what the hooper's actually experiencing.

It's important to distinguish between the two different meanings of "flow" because hoopers belong to a very visual community. We live in a visual society where Facebook, advertising, and Youtube have trained us to associate certain appearances with certain mind-states. We all want to be bad-ass (flow in the 2nd sense). We seek to awe a real or imagined audience.  We are, after all human, and part of what draws many folks to hooping is that it creates a space for us to be skillful, marvelous, and awe inspiring. And that's good!

However, when our community convolutes the appearance of flow with the mental experience of flow, we risk making that experience less accessible. Personal experience suddenly becomes linked to physical characteristics (like fluidity, beauty, and gracefulness) that have minimal correlation with a hooper's state of mind. These characteristics in turn create a rigid pre-conception of what flow looks like rather than what it feels like. Suddenly authentic self expression is replaced by the pressure to buy $100 dance pants and mime poses glimpsed in YouTube videos. Less insidiously, the mental experience becomes linked to a particular skill set or level of expertise beyond the reach of vast numbers of hoop dance enthusiasts.

Language is an amazing tool. It both shapes and is shaped by our reality and culture. Mihály Csíkszentmihályi's conceptualization of flow has given us a marvelous word to describe the marvelous experience of being immersed in our art. Our language possesses an equal capacity to describe the physical characteristics that are often mislabeled as flow. We can describe those mind-boggling expressions of hoop-dance virtuosity in language that simultaneously honors bad-ass performance and leaves space for flow as an uninhibited mental-emotional experience.

At the deepest level, the level that sustains our spirit,  we want to experience the power and bliss of flow (in the 1st sense.) When we embrace flow as a state of mind, we reaffirm that anyone can experience a joyous psychological state at any point in their hoop journey.  We can experience it busting out super-tech tricks. We can experience it dancing. We can experience it getting lost in the counted circles of three-beat-weave drills. It need be neither beautiful nor refined because it transcends appearances.

I 1st tasted flow hooping to Bob Dylan when I only knew 3 hoop-moves. If I'd recorded that glorious, but undoubtedly clumsy, session, no one would have marveled and declared, "That girl has flow!"

But I did, because flow is in your head. Flow is in your heart.

Michelle Nayeli appears to embody a transcendental hoop experience, but
may, for all I know, be experiencing a dreadful foot cramp while she waits
for a friend to take this marvelous photo. 

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View from a Hooping Plateau Part 1

The view is breathtaking: valleys, rivers, and luminous sky. I stand in awe of the heights I’ve climbed, while gazing, inspired, at the mountains still waiting to be scaled. Below me a landscape of new friends, new skills, and blissful memories unfurl like a tapestry.

But I’d rather be somewhere else. Almost anywhere else.

I stand, grateful but impatient, on a hooping plateau.

You’ve probably reached one or will reach one some day. It’s the place in your hooping journey where everything seems a little stale. You’re comfortable with your skill-set and flow…too comfortable. Maybe it’s been a while since you’ve learned something new, and you worry you’ve reached the limits of your dance. Maybe you’ve poured your energy into the hooping community, and you feel burned out. Whatever path you’ve followed, you know you’re on a hooping plateau because all the birds are singing, “Same old. Nothing new. Same old hoola hoop.” It’s not a danceable tune.

The tricky thing about my hooping plateau is that nothing has really changed. I’m still part of a fantastic community. The crowd still crows when I bust out a pizza toss from my knees. I still adore the murmur of flames before I launch my fire hoop into motion. Nothing external exiles a hooper to a dreary plateau. It’s internal. It’s a state of mind.

Solanaceae surveys the hoop-scape.

Believe it or not. It’s a good sign.

Hooping plateaus are part of the natural ebb and flow of a dynamic hoop journey. They acknowledge accomplishment and skill. After all, I’ve worked long and hard to build the plateau’s foundation. They also promise change…if I persevere. They’re a resting space before plunging into the mountains of possibility. Like the proverbial calm before the storm, they signal a lull before a flood of new energy, inspiration, and flow.

So enjoy the view, hoop-friends. Set your hoop in the sand and meditate. Take inventory. Write a hymn in honor of the circle. Be patient, because the journey never ends.

Mandala Monday # 2

All along the lake yesterday I saw these wonderful signs. Attention: be alert to changes in flow. They spoke, of course, of the currents along the water. However, the dancer in me read them as a reminder that the flow of creativity is a barometer of spiritual wellness parallel to the physical flow of breath and blood. Thus changes are expected, but never without cause. Like rippling water, flow can be followed back to its source, rediscovered, and purified. Blessed be the water.

Hooping: The Gateway Drug

The moment I started spinning my new staff, I was amazed by the parallels to hooping. Weaves, the rising sun, passes, and spins all translated into mind boggling new patterns. I’m in love…all over again. I’m experiencing all the excitement and discovery as when I first started hooping, but this time around I have a foundation of flow techniques to build on. Yet the staff has its own flow and physics. I feel so much of my hoop-style being transformed into this new tribal-ninja dance. I’m in love with the staff’s long lines and freedom of motion.

Seriously, if you’ve been considering a new prop, go for it! Not only am I completely smitten with my new toy, but my hooping is reinvigorated too. Freed from the entire weight of my prop-addiction, my recent hoop jams feel more spontaneous and inspired. So in a way my hoop has a new lover too!

I don't have any pics or videos yet, so I'll leave you with a video from Linda Farkas, a spinner who embodies grace and technical skill with a whole host of yummy flow toys.