
Each time we have a performance we are asked to arrive about 30 minutes prior to show time. We make sure we know the lay of the land, have our performance props ready, and figure out our lines. We also visit and catch up with one another. Early this week as we were awaiting one of the shows, about five of us were standing together chatting. Shirley was one of our five, and as we stood there, she said, ‘Come, join our circle’. She had noticed another dancer who had just arrived; we took a step backward, making room in our circle for one more.
It struck me as such a kind thing to say, ‘Come, join our circle’. Most of us already belong to many circles and yet all of us long to be welcomed into new ones. Shirley did not diminish our original circle by making room for one more. Circles, perfect shapes, can grow and shrink as needed without ever losing their perfection.
Several of our dance numbers are performed in a circle formation. Dancing in a circle gives me a certain joy that does not come when we are in rows. I love the feeling of us all being equal. I love that we look across the circle at one another. I love that we smile and encourage one another. I love that we say so much to one another without uttering a word. I love the feeling of us all being in it together.
All week, as we’ve performed, I’ve been thinking about and observing the dynamics of the other circles I see within our group. I’ve been noticing where they appear and how they function. Many times, they are small groups of women talking together. Sometimes they are chairs put together as we rest between shows. Sometimes we use them to shield a dancer as she repairs a wardrobe malfunction.
And sometimes our circles are not circles at all. We have circles of support. We have circles of respect. We have circles of compassion. We have circles of understanding. We have circles of kindness.
On Thursday afternoon we performed at the city’s largest shopping mall at centre court. Spectators could watch from the main level, or from the second floor where there is a circular balcony to watch from. Due to fire restrictions, only twenty-four dancers could be on the roped-off, performance portion of the main floor. Because we had about thirty-five dancers, each of us had to take our turn watching for a couple of songs.
We, the observers, were not in the circle.
None of us like not dancing. We all love the movement and the energy that comes from performing, and given the choice, we’d all be on the dance floor. And yet, a surprising thing happened. We did not just stand idly by chatting with each other. We found ourselves smiling at our friends on the dance floor. We cheered when we noticed they executed a perfect restart or tricky move. We sang along with the familiar songs. We smiled and appreciated their skill. We admired the beauty of the dancers moving together in perfect synch. We got to see ‘our circle’ from a new perspective, and while we were not standing in the circle, we were no less a part of it.
The day after that performance, I was part of and overheard many conversations of members of our dance group saying how shocked they were at how much they enjoyed the dances they watched the day before. Each had the same sentiment; they loved being a witness to the magic of the circle we all form together.
In our lives we do not always get to stand in the centre of the circle. Sometimes, we don’t even feel like we are standing on the circle, and sometimes it can feel like we are not part of it at all. What I discovered this week is that there is a time for us to be in each of these positions. There is a time when we will be the centre. We saw this in the past week when on two separate occasions, two of our dancers suffered relatively serious injuries. They were, for those moments, and for several days afterward, in the centre of our circle of concern, and the rest of us, every single one of us, were in the circle surrounding them.
There is also a time when we stand on the circle, facing the rest of our team, whomever that may be. In this case we are all invited to be equals, to move together, to uplift, support and encourage. In this position we feel secure, and welcome.
There are also times when we stand outside the circle, and while it is tempting to feel sorry for ourselves here, to feel we are excluded, the truth is that it is from this position we can truly observe the circle, decide if it is one we want to be part of, and if it is, support it so it can perform at its absolute best.
What I discovered this week is I love this circle of dancing women in my life. I am not part of every single little circle within the dancers, but I know for sure that I am part of the big circle just as certainly as is every other dancer in our group. And I know for sure that when yet another dancer decides to joins our group, just as Shirley said this week, someone will say, ‘Come, join our circle.’
I hope this summer you choose to only be in circles that build you up, that help you perform at your best and that are always willing to take a step backward, making the circle larger as they say, ‘Come, join our circle.’
I am going to take the rest of the summer away from writing this blog. I hope to return in the Fall. Meanwhile, I have a few circles I want to stand in and support; one with my family, one with my hiking friends, one with visitors we look forward to welcoming, and of course, more time with my circle of dancing sisters.
My inquiry for you this summer is, ‘Who needs to hear me say, 'Come, join our circle'?'
Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching. She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society. She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching. She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to form perfect circles.