The Opposite of Fear is Curiosity
Yesterday I attended a dance class after years of avoiding the studio. I felt equally nervous and excited. I was intimidated by this art form, the one I had dedicated most of my 20’s to. I couldn’t remember what it felt like to surrender to it.
As predicted, my muscles tensed up and my entire body resisted simple movements. My internal dialogue was providing the play-by-play of my inadequacy. “You danced for 10 years of your life, why is this so hard?”
There was a pivotal moment, close to half-way through the class, where I had to decide if I was going to let myself enjoy the process or if, in pursuit of perfection, I was going to miss the entire point of the experience.
Sometimes all it takes to change our experience of the world is a shift in perspective. This can be hard or this can be easy, and that’s a decision I get to make.
Letting go of the expectation of what our experience of something should look and feel like opens up so much space for us to just BE. To create, to experiment, to go through all the stages of learning and unlearning. It sheds light on the dusty corners of our fragile egos, where we try to hide what makes us most human.
My entire life is a story I’ve spent years carefully crafting. I wake up everyday and I can find evidence for whatever part of this story I want to believe. I’ve never failed to find the evidence, if I look for it, it’s always there. But I have to ask myself, what do I want to believe? How is this story serving me? Is it painting a picture of a life I can thrive in?
Once I made the decision that the class was going to be fun, that it was going to take me some time to get back into learning choreography, that being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ at this didn’t matter, and labeling it wasn’t productive, everything changed.
My body relaxed. My energy shifted. I dropped into presence.
I didn’t enter a dance studio for 5 years for fear of what it would trigger in me. I deprived myself of joy, of healing, of FUN. I got so caught up in my story about dance, my ability to dance, why I should dance, why I shouldn’t dance, that it literally debilitated me.
Yesterday I woke up a sleeping giant within me who wants to move energy through her body, who’s way more curious about this next phase of her life than she is afraid.
A giant who will embrace the awkwardness of beginning again. Who will commit to not labeling herself or her experiences. A giant who knows it takes courage to step into something uncomfortable and push through the resistance.
There is a sleeping giant within you and it’s waiting for you to WAKE IT UP. Any you know what’s interesting about the sleeping giants? Yesterday I danced, today I’m publishing a written piece and my very first audio experience. Seems like courage breeds courage and action breeds action. Don’t I know it.
