An Essay On Beating Myself Over the Head with Realistic Self Compassion
Hello Fitness Friends, and Happy Rainy Thursday (in Baltimore, at least).
Today I’ll diverge from my more predictable movement science-y material to talk about perspective. Specifically, the perspective of Being Grateful to Move. I understand if you just rolled your eyes.
After all, we’re this close to being home free from The-Year-Which-Shall-Not-Be-Named (Hallelujah + good riddance), and many of us have shifted perspective and taken initiative more times than ever before. It feels high time for reality to meet us halfway with a shred of positive effort.
Ever since the Western world realized that there’s more than a handful of neuroscience studies to back up the effectiveness of age-old yoga and meditation practices, it can sometimes feel like we’re getting beaten over the head with messages of ‘being present’ and ‘improving mindset.’ Many of us get regular reminders to pause and breathe, ironically enough, from technology and social apps - which we know are unsurprisingly one of the largest modern contributors to distraction and mental health struggles, especially for our young people.
It follows that for me to suggest that we “Be Grateful” for anything (in this case - the ability to move) comes across as a silly platitude - or, as with any adult who receives instructions by someone or something who has no place to do so - incite huffy opposition. (You ever see a coaster at Marshalls inscribed with “Laugh!” or “Breathe.” and your first reaction is to frown and hold your breath? Because “Who is that coaster to tell me what to do with my life?” Even though you ‘forgot’ to meditate every day last week... and also maybe the past year. Yeah. That’s what I mean.)
I’ve come to realize that words sometimes have to sit and gather dust, buried in the basement, until circumstances brush them off and bring them to light, revealing a full and paradigm-shifting significance. Or, to recycle another platitude - some things you just have to learn through experience.
This brings us back to the original point - perspective. See, up until recently, I thought I was harbouring a full, unadulterated appreciation for movement, but what I’ve actually had this entire time was an expectation and value-attachment to specific movement capabilities according to my privileged expectations.
Basically, it went something like this:
Me: “I am grateful to move!”
What My Subconscious Actually Meant: “Due to my previous experiences as a young and healthy athlete, I expect boundless potential for, and the inevitable realization of, high performance as defined by meeting competitive movement goals, often in relations to others’ performance standards. Predicated on my body’s ability to meet these goals, I am grateful to move.”
Let’s take a step back: It’s inevitable that we, being the highly adaptive humans that we are, expect the continued presence of those beneficial fixtures which we are used to experiencing and receiving. We become disappointed when these things, people, abilities, etc. are taken away. It messes with our regular state of being, perception of reality, and, depending on the situation, sense of safety.
I am privileged in many ways (privilege being another hot button topic), and one of them is the ability to move without pain or restriction up through my early twenties. While the past several years of ligament tears, knee surgeries, and osteoarthritis have been frustrating, they’ve provided great awareness as to what it means to develop a healthy relationship with movement.
I believe that this shift of perspective is something that every athlete must experience over time, in varying degrees of severity. It is the inevitable result of bodies that don’t last forever - ones that we have to take care of, especially when we ask so much of them. On the opposite side of the spectrum, for those who discover exercise later in life, the joys of experiencing movement potential after decades of sedentary lifestyle can feel like uncovering the fountain of youth.
In both instances, perspectives change - and while it seems from the outset that one is quite negative (learning to manage loss of performance and/or function) while the other is positive (gaining new abilities), I think they can both be humbling and empowering in their own right.
Lately, I’ve experienced a level of overarching self-compassion in regards to my own movement that I’ve never experienced before. There are a few things I really miss at the moment, three in particular - running, heavy lifting, soccer, more running. Still, I’ve become extremely grateful for the things that I am able to do, of which there are many. I used to get pretty frustrated if I finished a workout without accomplishing whatever goal I set for myself that day. While frustration is an inescapable part of life, especially when expectations are high, putting the negatives into perspective instead of allowing them to eat you alive is a skill - and almost all skills can be learned.
So far, working on this skill (or rather I should say, having found myself in a position where this skill becomes more or less necessary for continued improvement) has paid off in the form of patience, self-compassion, and happier workouts. I feel grateful for having the opportunity to be in the gym, continuing to push myself and slowly progress - even if things don’t go to plan, or I’d rather work on a skill I can’t currently pursue, or I fail an embarrassing number of times in a row, or I have to stop because of pain. These are all obstacles that can be overcome with a little creative thinking and willingness to adjust, if we’re just willing to rearrange.
And so, I leave you with these thoughts, which I hope make some sense and provide a bit of relatability: I am happy to take part in the imperfect, frustrating process, because that is where we find joy. I am, more than ever, truly grateful to move.
-Laura
