I got told I’m dilated this week.
dilate (verb): to enlarge, widen, cause to expand
This was a particularly delicious “ooh!” to me because it was in the context of a conversation among a few friends having coffee at a big wooden kitchen table, not on a stage or in public at all.
It was a TV actor friend of mine, and she says the term’s used in acting sometimes to describe someone who’s *she gestured like throwing open the shutters over her heart, ending with her arms out wide.*
In the same convo another friend’s husband, who I hadn’t met before, said “yeah, Samara—it’s like you’re in Stanislavsky’s 3rd circle all the time.”
Dante’s 3rd circle of hell: where the gluttonous sinners crawl through endless smelly mud while being pelted by poop rain and bit by Cerberus
HOWEVER, turns out…
Stanislavsky’s 3rd circle of attention: the iconic 20th century theater teacher’s idea was that when we’re on stage we can switch the size of our energy among three circles…
(1) smallest, personal moments of self-discovery and self-reflection
(2) medium, conversational in that highly focused “you made me feel like there was no one else on Earth” kinda way
(3) biggest, engaging the whole world with our thoughts and words —speaking to our audience plus God and the Devil according to this article—so inevitably we’re at our most animated in body language and speech. Think volume and broad hand gestures, wide stance, super supported breath, emotional hits, crackling the silence, running the show, holding the moment and holding the people in your hands à la Oprah.
As someone who launched a Substack called “How to Show Up” I have to believe that these circles are traversable. I do believe it deeply.
That we all have the capacity to be tiny, bigger, biggest.
And that playing with energy like that is a) fun and b) sometimes not, as we confront our own hard-groove habits and the stories we’ve picked up that one way is too risky, is too dangerous, is not us, is not possible.
Which is why how we show up is such a spiritual practice: this showing up business invites us to notice how and when we don’t… and what’s at stake.
What we might lose if we show up too big or if we don’t show up big enough.
Of note: I also had a woman in the audience before a conference this week turn around and tell me I was being too loud, and I felt the full “I’m too much” shame slap.
I wished I could instantly let it go and think “go find less.” I know the memes tell us to. But bodies are gonna body. And the evolutionary fear of judgment = kicked out of tribe, will starve, will die runs deeeeep. I felt like I’d transgressed on some unspoken rule that you shouldn’t annoy a single person around you.
Even though I think we can all agree that rule is literally impossible to follow.
It’s a losing battle.
It’s not worth our one-wild-and-precious-life energy.
And yet.
My friend, who witnessed the reprimand, leaned over half a breath later as I was feeling the permission drain from my body, and gently whispered into my ear, “you’re just right, Samara. You’re exactly loud enough.” Even though maybe I was being too loud? And maybe I could adjust my volume without making it MEAN SOMETHING.
But my friend’s reset was a gift.
And really I’m just doing that for you now in Substack form.
These love notes to you each week are a gentle whisper in your ear that you’re doing it right, even if or when you’re not quite and someone scolds you, or you scold you. Listen: the experimenting is part of doing it right.
The taking in feedback is part of doing it right.
The trick is to parce what’s useful and what closes the shutters on your heart.
Cerberus might bite but we are NOT GLUTTONS. We’re working on our enough-ness.
Hahahaha.
OK, but! This has all made me wonder: there’s about 3,300 of you getting this email each week. If 100 of you fill out this poll, I’ll share a story of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson behaving badly on set next week 🤣 I know answering this poll will require that you leave the comfort of your inbox to click on the Substack app so I’m happy to offer a gift in exchange (it has to do with tequila and an epidemiologist JUST SAYIN).
‘Cuz it would be super helpful to know who here is speaking on actual stages. If you’ve spent any time here you know I’m all about the metaphorical stage—if you’re speaking in meetings or high-stakes convos or launching a podcast or making videos and wanna work your visibility muscle this all counts—but I will talk more specifically about prepping for literal stages if enough of you want that.
👉🏼 If I get 200 responses I’ll pick 5 of you at random and send you a personal gift in the mail. Will just tell you now: they’re bright pink socks that say “POWER” on one foot and “SOCKS” on the other and they are the greatest silly merch I have ever made. They make you feel more powerful LIKE THAT 💥🧦💥🧦💥🧦💥
If you wanna explain your response further, please do so in the comments. I’m leaving them open to everyone this week and wanna hear from YOU.
And please don’t forget: next community Zoom workshop got moved to April 26th, 10a PT/1p ET/6p GT. It’s ON! And it’s on STORYTELLING: how to tell our story or our stories dramatically but without the drama. My best tips + live coaching.
Upgrade to join and get the coaching you need 👇🏼
Love and loudness,
Samara
PS. Who saw the word “dilate” and instantly thought of pregnancy? I didn’t in the moment but now I can’t not—kiddo was born in May so I inevitably spend some time around now each year remembering ye olde wild birthing experience.
Big hugs to the moms.
Thanks for your brave ask 🙏🏼 My core essence walks around dilated to 11. And then my guts spill on the sidewalk and not everybody is cool with the mess of it, and I wonder why don't they like me? 😆 Vulnerability is power, right? Context, darling...
Once you bust open the shutters to your heart, really fling 'em wide, it feels so AMAZE that it takes nuance and sensitivity skilz to pull back and like, whisper. I'm a (former?) performance artist who pulled waaaay back into her shell to write when singing in public became dangerous (pesky virus). My heart calls me back. I adore your Big Brave Voice.
I am a singer/songwriter and I host a podcast about songwriting called "Pursuing the Muse". I love the privilege of a microphone to attentive ears. I share songs and emotions to create a connection and on the podcast I try to glean songwriting tips and tricks from amazing songwriters that make it more approachable as a craft everyone can do if they want to.