Celebrate Failure

2 Feb

A long time ago I took an improv comedy group class at UC Berkeley for a semester.

One of the best things I learned in improv class is to celebrate failures. We would all throw our hands up at the same time, smile, wave our hands above our head joyfully and yell,

“I failed!”

I felt young.
I felt free.
It felt right.

Failing means you tried.

Sometimes I fail at things after I’ve done them for a long time. For example, starting out as an author by writing a fantasy young adult book series. I wrote those books for close to a decade! Then I had a panic attack, felt crazy, and had to put it down. I failed.

When I fail, I learn something and I get the satisfaction of letting go of the thing that isn’t working.

Sometimes I fail when I try something for the first time and realize I don’t have the energy for it.

Me being someone who adds too much to my plate this can happen more than I’d like to admit.

All of this to say, I started January with a fire under my ass to build an accountability group on Substack.

Now I receive way too many Substack notifications, nobody is joining my chat group, I am not posting their regularly, and I need to either pivot to a different app for that group or not do it.

There is something very uncomfortable about being held accountable.

It can be used as another way to shame ourselves, be hard on ourselves, and feel unreachable.
There’s a difference between feeling uncomfortable and feeling down on ourselves. My goal for any movement practice is to encourage people to feel better in their bodies.
To chose a movement practice that is sustainable.

After 15 years as a personal trainer I rarely want to move my body.
Once I start moving I feel better and I enjoy the process—most of the time.

Getting started is almost always an exercise of will power.

I have to remind myself I have a strength training practice because I feel better when I am strong. I move my body so I can keep up with my kids and age with grace. Taking care of my body now will have lasting benefits into the future.

Some days this looks like 10 push ups and holding a squat.
Some days I do a 30-55 minute workout.
Some days I roll out on my foam roller and stretch.
Some days I hold a few specific poses to support my low back and neck from returning to chronic pain patterns.
Some days I purposefully lay on my stomach to breathe, to slow down, to connect to my body, to stop over doing, and to rest.