I have this little problem. I don’t really understand or accept boundaries or limitations.
It’s more of a big problem. I’m like the Little Engine that could meets I think I can, I think I can meets denial – NOT the river in Egypt. It’s the reason why I’ve been in the same thankless job for 9 years and why I went to ballet class after banging my knee and elbow on cement. I have an issue understanding and accepting boundaries.
I bit it on Monday. I stepped on my oversized palazzo pants and FLEW a few yards through the air, sliding on my hands and banging my elbow and knee. My clothes survived just fine. My beloved black and white gloves and pride were in tatters. But I jumped up, dusted myself off, made a joke to the bystanders and went about my business. I got back to my desk and realized that I had also skinned my elbow and knee. Like the little independent soldier I was taught to be, I cleaned, slapped some ointment on it and put a band-aid on – back to work.
As I head into Joel Hall Dance Studios, I am note that my knee is slightly stiff and it’s uncomfortable to bend. But I figure this is nothing that won’t work itself out during class. I make it to my first grandé plié and realize this is NOT ok. Never one to give up, I accept that I won’t have full range of motion, suck up the discomfort and ‘power’ through the combinations skipping the parts that I couldn’t manage.
Now some of us would think – yay! You didn’t give up. Some of us would think – why’d you even bother? But I did say I had an issue understanding boundaries.
I did sideline myself during floor exercises because spinning and jumping on a banged up knee is just not smart. But I have this thing with giving up and letting go.
It’s one of my life patterns. I have a problem giving things/people/clothes, etc up and letting them go.
I think of myself as a dancer. When I hurt myself in ballet almost two years ago, I was told to sit down somewhere for 6 weeks before going back. My knee was the side of a cantaloupe. I couldn’t go up and down my condo building stairs. I had to ice, compress and elevate my knee and I still went back after 4 weeks because it wasn’t swollen anymore. There is something profoundly wrong with that – it is called stupidity.
I’m in the process of un-stupefying myself. It’s hard. I don’t like it. It’s called a pattern for a reason. But I hurt myself. I try to ‘soldier’ through it. I pat myself on the back for working through pain and inevitably hurt myself again. It’s not a good pattern and more importantly, it hasn’t gotten me anywhere I’d like to go.
So instead of working through the pain, I’m going to acknowledge it, accept it, and do what I can without pain until I don’t hurt anymore. Rinse. Wash. Repeat.
