Today I got completely undone. I left the house at 07h40 to be at a workshop I thought was near Stellenbosch well in time for its 9am start. I had petrol, I had printed out directions, I had plenty of time and I had a semi clear idea of where I thought I was going. Only, the truth is, I had NO idea. So when the turn off I thought was the R300 was actually the R310 I felt like the road itself had disappeared or was playing a malevolent trick on me. The long and boring story is that I went in ever widening circles, building self-doubt and hysteria and seeing-without-seeing. Many sobbing phone calls to Big Friendy later (my hero googled and searched and gave me remote directions and encouragement) I finally (almost 40 minutes late) turned into the right road. Still, because of my panic I couldn’t see the huge, signed building in front of me. I had gone hysterical-blind.
This group of people, who I had had phone contact with, were so kind and forgiving. I quickly ran to the bathroom, and in my haste I tore the string tying my ninja Kabuki pants up. I now had nothing to keep this huge, shapeless mass of material up with. I was pantless!
Needless to say, I entered the space of the workshop on full tilt. And it was amazing. I was humbled by my mistake, and in an open, vulnerable, slightly altered state. The perfect space to be to learn and teach improvising.