#dream statement

Because it’s relevant, I’ll start with this: I’m sick. Probable raging sinus infection with wet splattery cough.  So, first off, I had no business being out in public today.  And second, it’s hard (for me) to feel powerful and capable when my face is throbbing.  Related to that or not, I was also feeling 100% dumpy in stature today.  That’s the very personal context for me walking into a multisport store (another thing I didn’t know existed until recently) this afternoon.  Having been told about this place last weekend, mostly I just wanted to see where it was.  I was also hoping to find a place with easy-going workshops on things like changing a bike tire or what to expect at my first tri.  You know – support.

Not surprising to me, at least, I left there feeling way out of my depth, a fraud waiting to be discovered, not worthy to finger the bike shorts or power bars so carefully displayed for the serious athletes. 

This is the danger in daring to walk outside our own contexts. Maybe this is one reason change can be hard: we think we’re doing great by trying something completely new to us, only to find we’re not so special for taking this path, afterall, and in fact others far stronger and powerful are there ahead of us.  It’s so NOT NEW it’s a business model.

Among some of my friends, I’m a badass for even getting up on Sunday mornings, much less running Stone Mountain twice.  Among the folks at that store, I imagine (key!) I’m a sad example of a very basic beginner. A kid. That’s a spirit killer for me.

So in managing my emotional self, here are two thoughts.  First off, I think that in any biggish endeavor, there is power in having something of a dream statement – a statement about why I’m doing a thing that I can come back to when I start getting off track. Imagining others’ expectations or contexts and comparing them to my own is a common rail-changer for me.  (Note: knowing our rail-changers is a damned-powerful thing, as well.)   

Why have I signed up for an Olympic Triathlon?  Because the process of preparing for it as well as the actual challenge of going through with it will change what I know about myself in powerful ways.  This has nothing to do with what others can do or have done. This is only about feeling powerful within the context of what I have traditionally assumed to be true about me. 

I said there were two thoughts, here’s the second.  A friend sent me this recently.  I aspire to channel even a smidgeon of this person’s vulnerability to judgment and strength of personal knowledge:

Back when I was teaching yoga, a new student wandered into my class and plunked her mat down in the front row. That’s not the unusual part.

Within the first few minutes, it became clear that she wasn’t just new to me, she was new to the practice of yoga. Problem was, this was not a beginner class. And I was known for a teaching style that was, well, just a wee bit demanding.

But there she was, unabashedly stumbling, fumbling, flailing, twisting, stretching and working her body, mind and breath. I kept a close eye on her. At first, out of a concern for her safety. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t doing anything that might injure her (or anyone she might fall on). But, over the next 90-minutes, my protective eye turned to one of awe.

Not because of her physical ability, but rather her absolute comfort with who she was and who she was not. Her willingness to try anything. In front of anyone. Her seeming total comfort with being vulnerable to judgment in the front row of a hot, sweaty sea of far more experienced and agile bodies.

The next day, she returned. And the next. And the next. She became a regular at the studio, eventually completed yoga teacher training with us and began to bring not just her vastly improved physical practice, but her infectious sense of wonder, exploration and utter lack of judgment to her students.

Because she was willing to make a ton of mistakes, to do poses, breath and focus publicly and “badly” (whether that’s even possible is a whole other conversation), she found her way to doing it all beautifully that much faster. And, along the way, she developed the compassion for others along the same quest that allowed her to be that much more compelling as a teacher.

(There’s a bit more – read it here.)

I think remaining rooted in what I’m doing and why will be key for me being able to show up as a beginner who can be taught.