This evening I worked for an hour. An entire hour. (I do work sometimes.) I taught dance at a wedding, as part of the reception. The bride and groom wanted their guests to have something to do while they were having their pictures taken and the main room was being “flipped” from a sanctuary to a dining hall/dance party central. I thought this was thoughtful. For those who didn’t take the dance lesson, there was corn hole.

It’s always good to have options.

Since the wedding and reception was out-of-town, I spent all day getting ready for the affair. Funny how you can take hours preparing for a one-hour deal. Still, a boy’s gotta shower, and this boy also needed to borrow a portable speaker for playing music. You’d think I’d have one as a dance instructor, but I don’t. Thank God for friends.

The event tonight was held at a historic site that was originally one of the first colleges in Arkansas. You should have seen it. You could see it if I had taken pictures, but I didn’t. Well, I did take one, of the dessert table. They offered a selection of pies. A selection of alcohol would have been better, but you take what you can get. A calorie is a calorie. I went with the caramel apple pie, which almost made up for the fact that I got absolutely windblown and soaked walking into the building when I first got there. I hate the rain, especially when it’s cold, especially when I have to walk through it and–thanks to my bum knee–my max speed is two miles per hour.

But I digress.

The lesson itself went great. Fabulous, really. As good as any I’ve ever taught at a wedding or similar function. Normally you have to beg and plead people to participate, but most these folks jumped right in. Plus, there was a door to shut out those who didn’t jump in, and that way they weren’t a distraction. What struck me the most was that everyone seemed so friendly. Even the guys, who are normally stand-offish when it comes to dancing, were laughing and carrying on. Sober! As for me, I was a bit cranky. I’ve been a bit cranky lately. (Did I mention I hate the rain?) And whereas I used to hide it, lately I’ve been rolling with it. I’m still fun and charming (I think), just more–um–sarcastic/cynical/droll. In terms of tonight’s lesson, this means I didn’t put on a face. If someone was screwing up or interrupting, rather than stew about it, I addressed it.

“I need you to do this next part with your mouths closed.”

My therapist says that when you’re not trying to impress anyone–when you’re simply showing up as yourself in the moment–that’s called self-possession. And not that I have this down pat, but I’ve found myself in several situations lately where I haven’t felt the need to put on an act. Tonight, for example, part of me felt tired, another part felt sad, another part felt frustrated (sarcastic, cynical), and another part felt playful and curious (droll). And rather than try to suppress one part or play up another, I simply let them all come to the party and continued to do my job. Now, whether this “worked” for anyone else or not, I don’t know. It’s not about them. But I do know that I had more honest-to-god and heart-to-heart conversations with total strangers tonight than I have in a long time.

First, there were several guys and girls in the class with whom I had a lot of light-hearted banter. One guy accidentally learned the girl’s part, and I said, “Dude, this is your once chance to lead in your marriage, and you’re screwing it up.” Later he said, “You found me out! I’m feminine!” Another guy, who apparently knew the first one, also learned the wrong part. When I told him why things weren’t working, he said, “I was watching my friend!” I said, “Of all the people in the room you could have copied–.”

After the lesson, while I was sitting alone and waiting for dinner to be served, one of the groom’s relatives struck up a conversation with me. Just started talking about his travel habits and business out of the clear blue sky. Weird because his business had to do with writing and psychology. And no, I hadn’t said a word about my personal interests or this blog, nor did I. Rather, I just figured it was one of those odd universe things. Then later a bridesmaid–again, out of nowhere–told me about a family tragedy and how writing helped her heal. Now seriously, of all the random people at that wedding who could have talked to me.

More and more, I think less and less is random.

For the reception, the couple had a swing band. Y’all, I would have killed to have been out there dancing. However, thanks to my knee, I wasn’t. (Although I did dance with the bride.) Instead, I ate my apple pie and judged people. Ugh. My inner critic always has so much to say. And whereas I’d normally be thinking that I should shut him up, tonight I wasn’t. I plan to say more about it later, but this afternoon I heard a podcast with psychologist Richard C. Schwartz, who pioneered a type of therapy called Internal Family Systems (IFS). As I understand it, IFS proposes that we all have “parts” of ourselves that have unique voices and interact much like the members of a family. I think it’s another way of talking about archetypes. I have my inner critic. But the idea is that each part has A REASON for what it thinks and how it behaves, and that reason probably has something to do with keeping you safe. For example, my people pleaser most likely developed because at some point my survival depended on keeping other people (like my parents or teachers) happy.

One of Schwartz’s catchphrases is “all parts are welcome.” That is, so often we try to banish parts of ourselves. We think, “I’m a real shit-head for doing that thing I told myself I wouldn’t do again” and that we’re bad for having done it or thought it in the first place. But perhaps at one time that thought or thing was useful, even necessary. So Schwartz says a good approach is to get curious, to listen to what that part has to say rather than tell it to shut the hell up. Because maybe it’s scared, and maybe you need to cry. This was my approach both is my class and at the reception tonight, to simply listen to myself. Even the cranky parts, even the critical parts. And not that I had any major breakthroughs, but at least I wasn’t putting any pressure on myself to be anything that I wasn’t (or am not). Which is, of course, a breakthrough.