Thing is, with my workouts, there is *never* a sense of mastery. Mastery is not the goal. Sooner or later I forget that, and I get pulled into this feeling of “Good lord, here I am slogging away at the back of the class like I always am. When am I going to stop feeling like a dork?”
If you can do something well and for a long time, my gym’s thinking goes, it’s too easy and you’re wasting your valuable 60 minutes in the gym. You should be doing something harder (and perhaps more compromising to your ego like a bear crawl or any other of the ridiculous-looking-yet-perversely-difficult body weight combinations we do).
It’s not about perfection. It’s about keeping it difficult, making the time count, remembering to laugh compassionately with others and at yourself, avoiding injury, using good form, and taking on ever more challenging movements (that make you feel like a dork most of the time and push your boundaries on an emotional and physical level).
It’s hard at the gym so it can be easy in the other departments of your life
Once you start to speak, people will yell at you. They will interrupt you, put you down and suggest it’s personal. And the world won’t end.
And the speaking will get easier and easier. And you will find you have fallen in love with your own vision, which you may never have realized you had. And you will lose some friends and lovers, and realize you don’t miss them. And new ones will find you and cherish you. And you will still flirt and paint your nails, dress up and party, because, as I think Emma Goldman said, “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.” And at last you’ll know with surpassing certainty that only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth. And that is not speaking.
I will always repost this.
White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second.” —Lewis Carroll (via serialstranger)