I don’t know about look, but I have been saying how young I feel in my body. This morning, 2 days after my Feldenkrais® session, I’m still moving like I haven’t been able to in several years.
I had gotten used to the pain and the diminishing range of motion.
A few minutes ago I sat down to send an email and realized I’d left the contact info on the kitchen counter. I popped up to get it and a virtual anvil smacked me right in the head:
Monday morning if I’d sat down and realized I didn’t have what I needed, I would have groaned internally at having to get up again and exerted the familiar effort to stand (forcing my hip flexors to lengthen against their will). Then I’d wonder how much of a stride I was going to get and how much was it going to hurt this time (not if, but how much). All this is in a split second of processing.
This time I know the quick processing was there but I didn’t mind a bit getting up again – I actually was kind of excited to do it. With ease. With so little effort. With no pain. Like I really don’t feel the effects of age.
I was aware of the changes that were taking place, but I had lost perspective on the scope.
This newly recovered ease isn’t free. While I’ve always been very present to my body, I am even more so through this experience. I want to remain in it for as long as possible. In other words I want to prolong the beautiful side effects of this treatment for as long as I can. It isn’t free, but I am absolutely thrilled to be doing the work!
I have a sense that my loss of perspective speaks not only the condition of my body but how I condition myself to view the condition of the world. How many times can you say “condition” in one sentence?! Ha! I think I’m going to leave it as it is…
With the upcoming elections, I know that I must look past beliefs that I’ve settled in with. Over the last two or three years I brought myself out of my political safe place. Like in my body, I’ve been getting by – but do I want to just get by? I needed to make changes and there are changes in the world that need to be made.
To create change, I have to put something out there. Until very recently I kept my work mostly to myself. I’m an introvert and while I’m very warm and fuzzy on the inside, people don’t necessarily pick that up for awhile! I am a work in progress, how can I share what isn’t finished? I’m not accomplished or successful as culture defines it. I haven’t won any awards. I haven’t created a “method” – yet. I’m not on tv and I haven’t written a book. What if I put something out there and I’m wrong? What if I put something out there and it doesn’t work?
First, I started to tell myself what I’ve told other Nia teachers: the work does not have to be perfect for you to begin to offer it to your classes. It does have to be moving forward, but to wait for perfection may mean that the work never gets out there. Thank you, Stephaney Robinson.
Next, I accepted the fact that when I share in collaboration I learn more stuff. Often this “stuff” fills in some gaps I have and I like to think that maybe some of the “stuff” I share fills in someone else’s gaps. Rather than looking at someone else’s gifts and accomplishments as evidence that I am not enough – what I didn’t do, don’t have, can’t get, blah-blah-blah-Ginger – I’m now looking for balance. How can we nourish each other?
I have become fully aware that relationships – any and all relationships, are not about the 50/50 split. Ever. If I’m busy “keeping score” and thinking about who’s given or done more when the relationship has an organic ebb and flow balance, I’m going to miss the beauty. I’m going to miss the richness that is the person with whom I am dancing. Unless a relationship is completely and constantly out of balance – and it is possible to throw an organic flow out of balance by the anxiety and fear of keeping score – why not give it room for the ebbs and flows?
So how did I get to this point from giving you an update on my treatment?
My treatment results reminded me that I had lost perspective. I had accepted less than what was possible. Resisting collaboration was accepting less than is possible. I’ve got gifts, we’ve all got gifts. What good are they if I only share them with myself or my closest friends? I learned this not too terribly long ago:
I can have an idea that I think is great. Develop it and figure it’s ready to go. Then I talk it over with someone I trust and they either fill in the gaps I didn’t know were there (could be a proximity thing) or they ask questions I did not think to ask that I do or do not have the answers to. The fill-in-the-gaps is good. The question-and-answer opportunity is priceless!
Better that I have someone I trust ask tough questions and I get them covered than a potential paying client and I’m not ready to answer it. I still may not be, but I’ll be more comfortable with not having the answers to all the questions then if I had not put myself out there to practice. Then, asking someone I know who isn’t my BFF. The emotional investment isn’t there and the questions feel more on-the-spot. Mmmm, another incredibly valuable learning tool! And, how will I know where my next collaboration could come from if I don’t put it out there?
My learning curve is steep right now and I don’t imagine that’s going to change for awhile. That’s ok. It’s where I am and I’m usually pretty happy to be here. It was giving myself permission to be exactly where I am that lead me to some of the partnerships I’ve experienced and into the office of Julie Francis. Being where I am doesn’t mean I’m settling. It means that while I may be more in 2 hours by being what I am now – I can’t be anything else if I pretend to be anything but where I am.