Building My Courage Muscle
I think I am pretty good at doing things that scare me, at taking risks. But I think I could do even better.
I want to fill my summer with trying new things and attacking head on those things which I am not positive I will do 'right'. This will cause some discomfort, possibly sometimes what might seem like painful steps backwards in my self-esteem, but overall I believe It will be the only way that I will come out the other end of this season a stronger person.
So far, I have done a few notable things. Yesterday, I rode a bike over much hilly terrain here on Pender to attend a Yoga class. This is pretty huge as I do not (yet) excel at either of these things. The experience brought up a lot of anger, which I found fascinating, and self-loathing - not to mention a sore ass. But now that I blog about it, I am sorta proud of myself for even trying.
I am diving into the graphic and web design and development stuff with Ptarmigan and, most of the time, am way in over my head. Walls are being hit, my limits stretched, my brain squeezed. Then...something works. Boom. Happiness. I can point at something and, even despite the flaws of an obvious beginner, I can say that I created it.
With The Windflower Trio I am asked to play keyboards for our Celtic repertoire. Ask anyone who really knows my talent set and they will tell you that I am not really a piano player. And these tunes are faaaaaast. And Celtic music is a whole genre that I haven't (until now) known much about. But there I am in rehearsals, glued to my charts, grinning from ear to ear as I pound out reel after jig after reel while these two crazy Islanders go to town on their tin whistles and hammered dulcimers. It is so much fun and it is totally terrifying and my reward is getting to come back out front and do the rest of our rep as the singer. I can't help but wonder - how did I get here?
Then there is this breakup. Letting myself blow up in the car the night I found out about Sarah was uncharacteristic and, in its own way, healing for me. It was scary to say such final things to a man who I really so desperately didn't want to lose, but I did it. Even scarier, was to have emailed him the first time to say I was sorry and, in response to an email he sent me this week, that I love him. How is that different or scary or a stretch you might ask? Because when I say I love you to him now, I know that I will not get anything back, that I will not be the girl he holds in his arms this weekend, that I am still as rejected as I ever was...but I say it anyway. Only and simply because it is true. Holding on to less and less, letting go more and more, these steps I take are scarier than all the others put together.
Still to come...I would like to start meditating again...twenty minute periods...see if I can't find some refuge for my overactive mind. I was even offerred a chance to learn to sew by a Haven of Hope staff member...I am thinking a skirt to start. Sewing is terrifying for two reasons - one, because I swore I would never do something so domestic so it is about letting go of old ways of defining myself and two, because the last time I tried was in Grade Nine Sewing Class and it produced the lowest average I ended up getting in all of high school.
Ah, well, like they say, If you aren't failing then you're not trying hard enough.
I want to fill my summer with trying new things and attacking head on those things which I am not positive I will do 'right'. This will cause some discomfort, possibly sometimes what might seem like painful steps backwards in my self-esteem, but overall I believe It will be the only way that I will come out the other end of this season a stronger person.
So far, I have done a few notable things. Yesterday, I rode a bike over much hilly terrain here on Pender to attend a Yoga class. This is pretty huge as I do not (yet) excel at either of these things. The experience brought up a lot of anger, which I found fascinating, and self-loathing - not to mention a sore ass. But now that I blog about it, I am sorta proud of myself for even trying.
I am diving into the graphic and web design and development stuff with Ptarmigan and, most of the time, am way in over my head. Walls are being hit, my limits stretched, my brain squeezed. Then...something works. Boom. Happiness. I can point at something and, even despite the flaws of an obvious beginner, I can say that I created it.
With The Windflower Trio I am asked to play keyboards for our Celtic repertoire. Ask anyone who really knows my talent set and they will tell you that I am not really a piano player. And these tunes are faaaaaast. And Celtic music is a whole genre that I haven't (until now) known much about. But there I am in rehearsals, glued to my charts, grinning from ear to ear as I pound out reel after jig after reel while these two crazy Islanders go to town on their tin whistles and hammered dulcimers. It is so much fun and it is totally terrifying and my reward is getting to come back out front and do the rest of our rep as the singer. I can't help but wonder - how did I get here?
Then there is this breakup. Letting myself blow up in the car the night I found out about Sarah was uncharacteristic and, in its own way, healing for me. It was scary to say such final things to a man who I really so desperately didn't want to lose, but I did it. Even scarier, was to have emailed him the first time to say I was sorry and, in response to an email he sent me this week, that I love him. How is that different or scary or a stretch you might ask? Because when I say I love you to him now, I know that I will not get anything back, that I will not be the girl he holds in his arms this weekend, that I am still as rejected as I ever was...but I say it anyway. Only and simply because it is true. Holding on to less and less, letting go more and more, these steps I take are scarier than all the others put together.
Still to come...I would like to start meditating again...twenty minute periods...see if I can't find some refuge for my overactive mind. I was even offerred a chance to learn to sew by a Haven of Hope staff member...I am thinking a skirt to start. Sewing is terrifying for two reasons - one, because I swore I would never do something so domestic so it is about letting go of old ways of defining myself and two, because the last time I tried was in Grade Nine Sewing Class and it produced the lowest average I ended up getting in all of high school.
Ah, well, like they say, If you aren't failing then you're not trying hard enough.
posted by KJ Konkin at 11:59 PM
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