Thursday, September 24, 2015

I stand on a precipice/ I struggle to keep my balance/ I open myself/ I open myself/ One stitch at a time

First, read this. It is required pre-reading before this piece; or at least pre-skimming.

Setting aside the obvious (I’m not even sure I’m an athlete, and I’m definitely not an elite one), this piece spoke to me so much. When I first read it, I felt like someone was describing what I went through with my trampoline backdrops. Backdrops are just what they sound like, jump up, lean back, land on your back and protect your neck; keep bouncing up and down on your back in continuous backdrops, bounce back to your feet, or use it to bounce into another trick.

They are basic, they are easy; even for me, they were easy. I took to backdrops easily. I quickly used them for other skills. Then, one day, with no warning, they terrified me. I would bounce up and down forever, unable to lean back, break the angle, and land. I could still do perfect bullet drops off the trapeze, but on the trampoline I’d stall and panic. My coach, Thomas, spent hours with me on them, essentially going through all the steps outline in that piece. Now, I do backdrops again without a spot, but fear still lurks.

Moreover, I still block. I block in static trapeze on doing cradles in the ropes. Essentially, from standing on the trapeze, you grasp the ropes the trapeze hangs from, one in each hand. You pull yourself up into a ball, invent so your butt is above your head, extend your legs out straight and tag the ropes for extra support, and then finish by arching your back. It’s a very stable position.

Again, this is a basic move. I do it in hands (rather than hanging by the ropes, Drew does essentially a knee hang, and then I hang from his hands and tag his arms), I do it hanging on the bar without any fear ever. I’m cleared to do it without a spot. I’m cleared to do harder, more complex, more dynamic moves without a spot. Yes, it is a high move. Anymore I’m probably about 12’ above the ground when I complete the move. However, even when my coach William would lower the bar to just barely above the ground it scared me.

I’m getting through it, though. It used to be that we’d do a mount where Drew boosts me up to the bar, and then I’d stand on the bar with my hands gripping the ropes, and just freeze, telling myself I’d go when the flying instructor (classes run concurrently) said “hep” to the student they’re working with, but then not. William would eventually say “you’ve got this, Jenn,” and then I’d dutifully start the move (because you’ll do things for your coaches you can’t do for yourself). Now, I can start without that verbal push. I’m working less on doing the move, and more on not being afraid to do the move; it’s not scary once I start, I know it’s not scary. As it gets less scary, a new move takes its place as the source of aerial fear. I’ll always be facing demons and climbing these fear mountains as long as I do aerial.

When I talk about my fears and how that’s part of aerial for me, people always ask if it’s working, if I’m getting less afraid, if it’s worth it, if I’m able to apply this work on fears to other aspects of my life (as though it isn’t worth it if it only applies to trapeze). On the one hand, my life has improved immeasurably because of trapeze. Of course it’s worth it.

But on the other hand, even if it hadn’t, even if all of this was confined to the world of trapeze, it would still be worth it. Working on these fears, working through blocking, has shown me a fundamental truth about myself: I am someone who faces these demons and climbs these mountains; it’s part of who I am.