The bane of my Lispa existence

Because Acrobatics is so difficult for me, it's one of the areas that gives me fruitful ground for learning. Not just learning how to accomplish a headstand or a handstand, though I do want to do those things. It’s also what I learn through failing when trying to do them.

Today we had an extra time set aside to go back into the Hackney space to practice on the mats. (The space … I know how odd that sounds. We basically have one large room that's our classroom and lab for everything. People just refer to it as the space. As I may have mentioned, half of us have our classes in the borough and town of Hackney in the East End. The rest have their classes on Latimer Road on the West side in what is probably Kensington and/or Hammersmith. Occasionally we visit each other's spaces for presentations. In January we all move into a new space in East London. More on that next month.) Back to today’s events…

I was working on various things, especially the headstand and handstand. Without having to plan to, I was also working with my feelings of discouragement. I know that no one at the presentations on Wednesday will be overly critical of how well or poorly I do things—probably not even critical at all. We’re all agreed that the main thing is to do your best, in Acrobatics at least. (The Improv classes, on the other hand, have a higher standard.) But I get so discouraged when I can't do things. I'm sure I could just say no, I'm not going to do a presentation. But that's not what I want either.

Take the handstand. Basically you approach it like a cartwheel but head on. And you're supposed to put your hands to the floor, arms straight, and kick up into a vertical position, head down and toes pointed to the ceiling, balance for a moment, then tuck your head, bend your arms, and roll out of it down the curve of your spine and back up into a standing position. I just can't get the hang of it. A couple of times I've gotten into the vertical upside-down position, but only with two strong people assisting me. Part of the problem, I know, is that I hesitate. You just can't hesitate in this or you don't get the momentum. But I've done it in so many wrong ways--not keeping my arms straight, trying to kick up before having my hands on the ground (which is akin to trying to dive into a mat that is so very much not water), looking too far forward and so having my shoulders and spine in an impossible position to get my legs vertical ... see how much I'm learning? a thousand ways from Sunday how not to do it. Now if I could just get my body to do the right things! Anyway, I've attempted this so many wrong ways that it's very hard for me not to hesitate when I go to try it again, which often leads to discovering a new way not to do it, and a heightened likelihood of hurting myself, which leads to more of a feeling that I can't do it, which leads to discouragement, which leads to more hesitation... You see where this goes, and it's not pretty, and it's not fun.

How do you talk yourself into a feeling of "I can do this" when your experience is repeatedly one of not being able to? Where's the road from I can't to I can? Your mental state is so very important in these things, but there's only so much that talking yourself into it can do, especially when personal injury is a likely result of not getting your body to do the right things. But this is the challenge. Yes, I know, you can break it down into little steps, and I'm trying to do that, but ultimately it's also about flow. The steps aren't discrete and separate, like knots on a rope. Without momentum, it won't go. And hesitation and over-thinking it just get in the way. I don't mean to say this is all impossible--it reminds me of some classic philosophical conundrum from one of my college classes, Zeno's paradox it might have been called, where in order for an arrow to strike a target it has to go half way first, then it has to go half way of what's left, then half of that, then half of that, and you can halve the distance so many times that after a while you think it's impossible for the arrow to get there at all. But the arrow does get there. And somehow it's possible--even for me, I trust--to accomplish a handstand. And I want to do it. But I hurt myself yet again trying it today, landing hard on my right shoulder. I heard something crack when I landed. I iced it and am dosing it with ibuprofen, and nothing swelled up. So I'm hoping that what cracked was nothing more than a bit of my resistance. But it'll be a bit harder yet not to hesitate when next I try it again.

The other day someone posted this quote from Samuel Beckett on the bulletin board.

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.

Maybe that's my task for now.