Initially I didn't have a post for ya'll about class three. On Wednesday, the plague caught up with me. I ate nothing all day, and pretty much nothing the next day. Thus while I no longer wanted to void everything in my stomach by Thursday night I felt weak and dizzy. Clearly not a good combo for trapeze. Need to say I sat around feeling bummed and sorry for myself. I hated not being there. Hated it even more when my friend messaged to me to tell me how hard class was that night. I stewed on it for a couple of days growing more and more worried that this was going to set me back forever.
In fact, that fear grew as time passed. Considering how poorly I was at this anyway missing a class was going to sink me. I just knew it. They practiced getting up on the bar with the bar HIGH. I already knew this was going to be a challenge. And now I was a week behind everyone else. I started to have the nightmares again. It really felt like the beginning all over.
Today I brought J and C in to have a makeup session with Ann. While Ann worked with Camille, I played with Jude during the parent assisted class. I hung around the outskirts while Jude played on the strap hanging off a bar. I watched longingly as she flew around squealing and laughing. I stared at the bar and wonder if I could get myself on it under the pretext of playing with Jude. Eventually I gave in and sat down. Jude came right over, hopped in my lap, and I awkwardly swung with her. Next we played tagged with me sitting on a strap and chasing her around as she swung around on her strap. I'd catch her with my feet and she'd laugh pulling to get away.
And for that period of time at least, I remembered how much I really loved the bar. Just playing lifted me out of whatever crap I carried inside. I spun around for a bit and I'm sure the other parents were a tad horrified at my own antics on the mat. But I realized I needed that time with the bar. Like needed it. I hadn't realized how quickly trapeze went from something new and fun to a kind of body need. It sounds melodramatic I'm sure but trapeze stills something restless in me. When I spin, or swing, or even fail getting my fat ass up on that bar, I feel like something is centering me. I get now why Camille needs this too. I do as well. It's not so much a soothing although it is part of it. Instead, I feel like I have a jolt that firmly plants me in my own skin.
Today when I got home I rushed around making brunch, and I worried. Was I strong enough to do trapeze? Was I holding the class back with my fat and my weakness? Maybe I should quit. Maybe I needed to do something else for awhile. Get stronger. Again carried back to that first day and the fear that almost prevented me from even attending day one. I thought "Well maybe playing with Jude will keep me satisfied." But I knew it wouldn't because part of the centering comes from the work. It comes from an hour of working my ass off to get my ass up. Part of that jolt that lands me back in my flesh comes from the callouses, the red hands, the sore muscles, and the determination to master something new.
And I settled myself. If I slowed the class down, I'd have to just trust my teachers to let me know. But so far if I was realistic that was not the case. At least at this stage everyone seems to be working through the new stuff at about the same pace. And we're all working so hard it's not like we're focusing on what everyone else is doing. In addition, trapeze is doing something unexpected for me. It's helping me become more attune to my body. It's giving me a tiny moment of centering that carries throughout my week. I'm less irritable, less on edge, less restless, with trapeze in my life. Trapeze is my way of meditating.
I'm still scared that missing a class will set me back. I'm still worried that I'm going to be fumbling to keep up. But I also know that I need to be on that bar on Thursday and I need it enough to push through the worry and anxiety and fear. After all I already did it once a few weeks ago.
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