How to Zone Out: Tamara the Trapeze Lady
Published 7:00 am Tuesday, September 16, 2008
I have a problem sitting still. I go to the movie theater 30 minutes early so I can settle into a seat at the end of a row close to the exit doors, the better to visit the bathroom, check text messages, or
put more butter on my popcorn. Needless to say, I’m the last person invited to the movies by my circle of friends.
It seemed like time to get professional help. And who more suitable than Tamara the Trapeze Lady? Tamara produces and performs in shows for Columbia City Cabaret, but her day job consists of spending 20–30 hours a week modeling for the Seattle Institute of Art’s figure-drawing class. Since the late ’80s when she began nude modeling, Tamara has become, in essence, an expert at sitting still.
A typical drawing class lasts three hours, she tells me. She spends the first 30 minutes striking a series of short poses, then assumes longer poses that last anywhere from five to 25 minutes. “I make the time go faster by going through songs in my head or thinking about the errands I have that day,” she says.
Doesn’t that get uncomfortable? Tamara admits she occasionally gets a cramp, or more often just plain bored. “If you really want to get into a state of relaxation, there is something you can try doing.” I think she’s going to suggest marijuana, but instead she references the Skinner Releasing Technique, an exercise invented in the early ’60s to help dancers ease the tension in their bodies.
“Sit as comfortably as you can and take in a few deep breaths,” Tamara instructs, settling back into her chair. “Imagine that your entire body is expanding. Your head is moving toward the ceiling, your shoulders are growing to the sides, and your knees are drifting forward. As your body expands, little spaces are forming in your body that you can breathe through.”
“If I’m sitting on the bus or I feel like time’s going by really slowly, I’ll go through this,” Tamara says. “It lets out all the nervous energy from your body that’s making you like this”—to demonstrate, she twitches in her seat. It’s an unintentional but brilliant summary of my problem.
That evening while visiting a girlfriend at her apartment, I decide to put Tamara’s lesson into action. I settle back into the sofa and envision myself as a slice of Swiss cheese. I breathe through my perforated skin. I am totally relax—
“What the hell are you doing?” my perturbed friend interrupts.
I explain the Skinner Releasing Technique, but she’s unimpressed by my newfound knowledge. “Well, you look constipated. You’ve been making a weird face and flaring your nostrils for the last five minutes. It’s freaking me out.”
I play my meeting with Tamara over again in my head. I could tell she was taking deep breaths, but I don’t remember her nostrils flaring as a result. Then something she said—something of a disclaimer before launching into our lesson—echoes back to me. “It’s never really been that difficult for me to be still,” Tamara had confessed. “There are just some people who can’t zone out of their physical body.”
A sinking feeling tells me that this too may be an unintentional but brilliant summary of my problem.
