I admire the determination of kids. It is incredibly remarkable. Without it, there would be no major childhood milestones.
No steely focus to create a reliable method of transport to get to what is over “there” when you are over “here”.
No umpteen falls to the floor only to get back up again and again until legs are standing strong.
No herky jerky mismatched movements that eventually synchronize into pumping in the swing.
It is an evolutionary marvel. Truly.
This insatiable need to grow and do more is barely kept in check with fear. The awareness of danger is there but the idea that failure is akin to stopping is not.
I am a fearful over achiever. Too much of what I do or don’t do is driven by fear. Part of this is rooted in setting the bar high. Way up high.
NOT where beginners start.
My squirrelly logic is a weakness of mine. Because if you can’t reach the bar and have never taken the steps to get there, it is an unknown. Minute or massive is not the driving force. It’s the unknown. The step from solid ground to shifting instability. The change from expectation to anticipation.
Four weeks ago I signed up for a beginners yoga workshop. A month long course, twice a week. New to me studio. New to me teacher. New. New. New. Every.single.thing was new except my old yoga mat. It was gut twisting terrifying.
I wasn’t worried something bad was going to happen. I wasn’t worried that teacher would be dreadful. I wasn’t worried I would be the worst one there. And, after the first class I was assured that I was indeed not the worst one there.
I was anxious about all the new. What parking would look like at that time of night. How I’d navigate the studio space and find my room. Where I would set up in the room. How my clothes would shift on my body. All of it racing and spinning in my mind.
But the need to stretch and pull these knots loose was greater than my fear. It was a moment of clarity that happened when I was presented with the opportunity. A reflection of “what’s the worst that can happen?”
Because I need it more – the time, the space, the energy, the skills, the release – than what fear will ever give me. Ever.
And, I can’t find that place and get that time unless I go into the unknown. The new.
So, here I am at 37 learning to walk again. With focus on what is over there. What I want with every bit of my being. Grounding, healing, strength, passion, settling and abundant growth.
And I have a willingness to get back up again. And again.