You Can’t Go Up If You’re Looking Down
For what it’s worth, I look down. I look down often - and let’s be clear I’m not just figuratively looking down; I literally look down.
“What, I don’t paint like Artemisia Gentileschi or write beloved poetry like Shel Silverstein on my first attempt - this medium must not be for me. I must never tell the world I even attempted.”
For what it’s worth, I look down. I look down often - and let’s be clear I’m not just figuratively looking down; I literally look down. I stare at my feet as if they are where I am going.
I suppose it seems obvious - if you’re looking down that’s the direction you’ll go. But, as you may know, understanding something and putting something into action are two very different things. One takes a quality explanation - the other a tremendous amount of effort and likely some unlearning to do.
When this great insight was shared with me it was after I was trying to hit a specific leap in the jazz class I was taking. I finished the leap and just knew something was wrong. I couldn’t specifically identify what I was doing wrong but it didn’t feel right in my body. I asked my teacher, the incredible PandaDansa herself, Chelsea, what I was missing. Simply and calmly she said, “Well, first of all, you can’t go up if you’re looking down.” I thought, “Duh - that makes total sense.” Actually, I thought, “Damn, if this doesn’t apply to my whole life.”
That specific dance class alone led to two or three other simple statements/directives that made me evaluate how I live my life in and outside of the studio. The other that left such an impact - “Do three in a row. No stopping.” You see, not only do I look down - I stop. I stop when I feel myself messing up. I stop when I get hung up. I stop the moment I no longer feel like I can perform the move or the sequence perfectly. In dance, as in life, what stopping does is train your body to continue to stop. You’re creating muscle memory and now your body no longer knows how to finish because you haven’t given it the chance and because you haven’t given it a chance to continue you never give yourself the chance to actually master what you’re out to achieve.
It’s odd to me, in my job I can problem solve all day long. I have fully embraced the mantra modify and adjust and roll with the punches. I know the importance of follow through and practice - hell, I teach the importance of it to others. But when it comes to the areas in my life that I want to pour into creatively I get hung up on trying to do them perfectly that I stop before I ever give myself the chance to grow. I don’t go up.
What, I don’t paint like Artemisia Gentileschi or write beloved poetry like Shel Silverstein on my first attempt - this medium must not be for me. I must never tell the world I even attempted.
Irrational, absolutely. What I actually believe based on my actions, yep. The only-used-once paint in my home and the last time I published anything to be read being in October proves this to be true. The problem isn’t the want to - it isn’t lacking inspiration. The problem is truly believing (and acting in the belief) that the very fact it makes me happy to do it means it is worth doing. That. That sentence right there is the exact reason I named this site Worth Something. It is because I know when it comes down to it I need that reminder constantly. I needed to make a space for myself that I shouldn’t have to worry about the value of what I am creating because the fact that I am even creating is valuable.
This was affirmed to me yesterday. I decided to go to an intuitive group session to welcome in the new year. It was my first time involved in something like that but when I was in there the guide said something that I hope to cling to this year and really the rest of my life. She told us it was time to create a safe space for ourself. Not a space to escape danger but specifically a space to find healing. This is that space. I need this to be that space. The space where I tackle the fear I operate under because of the expectations I have put on how things are “supposed to be.” There has to be a shift because fear isn’t interested in taking me forward and starring at my feet is getting exhausting.
I truly believe that 2022 will be a shifting year in my life, my body, my brain, and my soul. I believe that the seeds I planted and watered in 2021 are bound to flourish. I owe it to myself - both past, present, and future - to stop stunting my own growth.
After all, there are books I want to read - books I want to write, concerts I want to attend, friends I want to make, money I want to save, memories I want to capture - and perhaps most importantly, a life I want to live presently and actively.
I think the title picture for this post is the perfect representation of how I want to walk through 2022. Not only is my chin up and my eyes forward, I felt amazing, I was proud of myself, I’m wearing my favorite jacket and my legs look strong as hell. Look closer and you’ll see the lights behind me are green. I was crossing the road when oncoming traffic had the potential to be coming right at me but I didn’t stop. I walked head held high towards my destination with full faith in my photographer that this moment was worth the risk. Rachel didn’t let me down and I don’t think God will either. Why, because I believe God cares about this and I hope I show up in a way that puts that belief into action.
