Sofia Irwin - Quies: Flow and Rhythm

 QUIES

First, I’ll admit I’m not a huge fan of walking. Maybe short distances, but put me on a mountain trail and I’m out.

As I read through Chapter 6, I kept thinking to myself, “This sounds like a really cool experience, but how could I even get to that level of flow?” I kept on reading until I got to page 252. Suddenly the theme was not a walk, but a dance. I kept reading and saw it expanded on page 254. I realized that maybe I had been thinking about flow all wrong. 

I may not be a hiker, but I do know a thing or two about dance—specifically ballroom dance.

I decided I had to start the chapter all over again with this in mind. Something my coach often reminds us of is to not “try to control how our feet move, but to lean into where you want to go, and let your feet take you there.” Yes, we learn techniques and specific steps for different dances, but that only gets you so far. Listening to the music to keep in time only gets you so far. I’ve danced with more than a few people who were so stuck in their heads and focused on the rules that they didn’t even think to listen to the song as more than a tempo and ended up dancing like a robot because of it. This is not for lack of effort, but lack of flow. 

I’ve definitely felt it. At the end of each week we travel to a ballroom social and dance in a larger group of new people. These people were taught different “moves” and counted the song differently. Your training fails you in that moment and your options are to either retreat into your comfort zone or step out into the flow.

In partner dances, there is always a Lead and a Follow. One person creates a musical narrative and weaves together different spins, turns, and patterns for the other person (me, in this case) to take in stride and embellish. Most times the Follow has less than half a measure to react to the slightest nudge and guess at where the lead is guiding them. Flow comes when you realize that the Lead and the Follow are both listening to the same music and telling the same story from different perspectives: the writer and the storyteller. Two sides of the same coin. In this moment the dance transforms from a mode of showing off techniques to a flowing river that won’t stop until the song ends. The patter of our rhythmic feet fades until it is one with the melody and, just as it’s described on page 254, the subjective and objective experiences fuse into one encounter. When you place the dance over the steps that make it up, it fills you with flow that you don’t even notice until afterwards. It is this very “no-mindedness,” or quies, that characterizes flow because the river of thoughts flows too quickly and smoothly for you to pick up more than impressions until after the fact when you have the chance to remember the experience and reflect. 

I’ve been thinking about how Dr. Redick’s section on long- and short-term goals might apply to dance, but I haven’t been able to completely relate this example yet. My guess is that a short-term goal would be something like making it through a song, and a long-term goal could be either the end of the social or the time practicing in between socials to make it to the next one. 

I wonder how the concept of quies might apply to non-physical or non-artistic activities. For example, I sometimes feel like I am “in the zone” studying for a class that I enjoy, especially the longer I study and the more knowledge I gain on the topic. But I hope it doesn’t become mindless… I wonder how this might relate to the idea of flow.