“Besides, no one’s interested in something you didn’t do.”
~ Wheat Kings, The Tragically Hip
Although I decided to retire from West Coast Swing competition in 2019, I planned to keep doing routines (choreographies) but no more Jack & Jill or Strictly Swing competitions. Then Covid-19 hit. In Canada, the pandemic-induced dance hiatus effectively lasted 2 years and I spent another 2 years not dancing or teaching at all.
In December 2023, I ventured out to social dance, curious how it would feel and if there was a still place for me. A few months later, encouraged by some students and dance friends, I resumed teaching at a more moderate pace than before. A year later, I attended a New Year’s dance event and entered a Jack & Jill competition to see how it felt. Since then, I’ve been seen at a few events and competitions, and people ask me about my plans now that I’m “back”.
Competitive mindset and where I’m at today
Am I back? I keep wondering when someone says I am, because it feels so different now. My motivations and focus and pace and mindset are transformed. I am happier, more content, dancing and teaching better than ever. I don’t feel “back” – I feel NEW. I feel AHEAD. I feel FORWARD.
The experience of competing feels new, too. Before, it felt like an obligation or necessity; now it feels joyful, fun, and not urgent. This has me thinking about my relationship to competition.
I have competed for the longest time in poetry. I have competed the most in West Coast Swing dancing. My most recent competition was in glass-bead making. In all three, I won with my first entry, yet for me competing has never been about winning.
I do not have what can be called a competitive mindset. Nobody competes to lose, but let’s just say that if I am holding a ball and someone else is coming after that ball, I will give them the ball because I can see they want that ball and I don’t really, because it is just a ball.
So why do I keep competing?
I am lazy.
I present this evidence:
It is much easier to find and enter a poetry contest than it is to research places that publish poetry, figure out what they like to publish, and go through the process of submission. Contest entries are definitely read, while general submissions can languish indefinitely, thus the effort:reward ratio is better whether or not I win anything.
In West Coast Swing, entering a Jack & Jill or Strictly Swing competition is a very easy way to participate – in fact, absolutely no preparation is required. Even if the judges fail to see my worth, enough other people will think I look like someone they want to social dance with.
The glass bead competition I recently entered was effortless. The call for beads landed in my email inbox, I realized I had already made a bead that would qualify, and I sent in a photo of said bead. Getting a decent photo of it was more challenging than making the actual bead.
I respond well to deadlines.
This has been true throughout my life. I have been my own boss for two decades and I survive the lack of imposed structure by making every task an appointment in my calendar. Competitions are date-dependent, they require that I get myself together by a certain moment. In these ways, I mark the passing of time. Life acquires a comforting shape.
I like to “be seen”.
As social animals, we humans have a need to be seen or heard or otherwise acknowledged for who we are. Whether or not I win anything, I like to put it out there. I learn the most about myself when my creations are in the world and I see how they live, and how others respond to them (or don’t). Sometimes the responses infuriate me but more often they give me pause and help me become more “me”.
So in summary, the more I do creative things, the better I am able to see myself. I am more likely to keep doing those things if I have an audience and deadlines. Competitions are one of the easiest ways I have found to do that.
Concluding sage thoughts
A first win or podium is always a thrill – unexpected because you have no precedent for it. Delightful because for the first time, you see yourself or your work positively through the eyes of others.
It can also be confusing. Other people’s responses can be loaded with expectation and judgement. Unhelpful thoughts may crowd your mind: Did you really deserve to win? Do you have to keep competing to prove that it wasn’t a fluke? If you win then never compete again, does it make you a quitter? Did you “steal” points from someone else who “needed” them more? Does winning mean you should try to become a Pro, a real Somebody? Should you expect to continue winning? Are you a prodigy? Are you a fraud?
Surfing the waves of competition means winning, not winning, almost winning, winning when you don’t think you should, and not winning when you probably should. The longer I’ve stayed on the surfboard, the less unpredictable the ocean feels – every new experience is part of one long ride.
So okay, I’m “back”. Back with a new rhythm, better perspective, and a stability that allows me to support others (and myself!) better than ever before.