Saturday 5 July 2014

Time to let go....



Its not uncommon for people to share their fears with me during Pilates sessions, both before and after class. I don't seek information, nor do I encourage chatty Pilates but sometimes the mind and body has things it needs to say and the voice is just another way of expressing it. Anyone who believes the way we feel has no bearing on the way we move has never been truly frightened rigid, madly in Love to the point of nervous excitement or curled up in a deep depression. The amazing vessel we more familiarly know as our body is far more complex, simple and courageous than we give it credit for. So its hardly surprising that we sometimes get tired, physically, spiritually and mentally in the process of trying to strengthen, build and heal it.

When we work out and are given time and permission to stop and think, we cant be surprised when thoughts bubble up from depths we have tried so hard to consciously suppress, and when someone has the honesty to tell me that a breakdown is both imminent and likely, I listen.
Modern day life can be wonderful but it can also be soul destroying. As Joseph Pilates documented so accurately, a noisier, busier more 'productive' life sometimes comes at a cost. So as I look back at this last month, working full time, attending a Pilates conference in Valencia (I cant believe its been a year +TonyBalongo +KathiRossNash +BrookeSiler +PeterFiasca!). Teaching a Pilates Retreat in Italy with some amazing women, Seeing our House go Under offer, managing insurance claims for my flat, flight delays and lost luggage,  I realize I'm fragile, just as fragile as those who have shared their deepest fears with me.

I will take ownership of my flat back this month and after 15 years with the same person will close a chapter on my life. I will move back to my old flat and start again, I will be without my relationship and 3 of my beloved furry companions who all crossed the bridge since we left. And whilst I know its the right thing to do, initiating change has its own price to pay. As for teaching, well the Show simply goes on, no one pays me to be broken or in pain.
I was reminded recently that all of this was my choice, getting divorced, my job, my lifestyle. And of course in black and white terms they are entirely accurate, but in truth becoming a dancer was in my bones, meeting my best friend, falling in love, taking care of my family after my fathers death, meeting my husband, all of these things broke me at some level and all of these experiences taught me nothing stayed the same and nor should I expect it to. Even becoming a Teacher was a path I tried to avoid but in the end the long days, demanding clients and intense learning curves were all just too irresistible for my personality to turn down. Perhaps I am not just a sadist as many of my clients believe but a Masochist too?

So what does a fragile teacher do? she simply deals with each day as it comes because the overwhelming reality of the next few weeks is simply to paralyzing to contemplate. Did I mention I have final practical exams to take too....It seems avoiding those didn't work either, the dye has been cast and I've been told to step up to the mark. A race I convinced myself I would never be ready to enter, after all I see teachers that really are worthy of the title whilst I'm constantly haunted by just how much I don't know and have yet to learn . And so as I chatted to my client about how if we didn't listen to our bodies, then we couldn't be surprised when they shouted loudly back in the form of Spasms, migraines or panic attacks, I thought it ironic that I overslept the following morning and missed a session with a client. I'd been telling my body I wasn't tired, it clearly begged to differ and took control whilst I closed my eyes and searched for peace. I've overslept a handful of times in 12 years and still I berated my lack of professionalism instead of acknowledging my exhaustion.

But I suspect that's the point, being out of control with my emotions, life, work etc send me into a spiral of anxiety, instead of being excited about starting a new chapter I'm a rabbit caught  in headlights and the jury's out as to whether i will get to the other side safely or end up as road kill. And so I do what makes me feel better...I buy dresses...and shoes....and bags....because fragility requires Armour and everyone knows a Valentino dress is the perfect flack jacket when your trying to convince the world your not nearly as fragile or as vulnerable as you feel. And as for choice....I'm acutely aware of every one I've ever made, every consequence, every sleepless night and every regret and mistake. I'm just hoping that Roadkill in Valentino turns out to be an oxymoron.

A dog called 'Valentino'


With Pilates love.
Suzy x