First off, I feel the need to apologize for my lack of internet presence over the last week. I've been having a blast on a staycation, and today is my first day back at work.
So, how did my first Monday start? It started with me forgetting to turn my alarm back on, so I woke up at the time I was supposed to catch the bus... Yay me!! Anyways, stole my hubby's truck and made it to work on time, only to fight through a mountain of emails and tasks that have been compiling.
Anyways, enough negative! I had a fantastic week off!! I got some weaving done, got some painting done, sent off my application for a Farmer's Market, and overall just recharged a lil bit. It was fantastic (minus the previously mentioned spaz attack with the sewing machine).
I also played Slow Pitch for the first time in... The better part of a decade I would have to say... It was SUPER fun, and I'm playing with a great group of peeps. However, and I don't know if I've mentioned this yet or not, I have a REALLY hard time going back to something that I used to be good at when I was younger and finding that I now suck. Harsh right? I would never in a million years think that way about anyone else. I would applaud them for trying and being brave enough to get back into it. Me though? NOPE! In my perfectionists mind I have to be equally good, or better than, I used to be. No matter how long it's been since I last did it.
Horse riding is another example of this. When I was in high school I was pretty darn good at it. I was winning ribbons and taking names. But I was also riding multiple times a week, and the Bank of Parents was still open for business. Now that I'm an adult with actual bills, priorities, and family (fur family counts too!), I actually have financial constraints. So, I rode less and less, and eventually stopped. Last summer I decided that I would try a new type of riding (I used to show in hunter/jumper), endurance riding, with a friend of mine. She even let me borrow her horse in exchange for helping out around the barn.
The result? Disaster. For some reason, my brain was expecting me to hop right back in the saddle and be able to ride for hours on end, after not riding at all for a couple of years. The horse I was riding was also a spooky Arabian, and though very sweet, she seemed to think that the world was conspiring against her. Now, back in the day this was no issue. Hell, I learned how to ride on a VERY SIMILAR spooky Arabian who's greatest ambition in the world was to buck me off (sometimes rodeo style). I had developed quite a deep seat, and horses were very hard-pressed getting me off. This was what my brain was expecting; something my poor body could no longer deliver.
The first time I fell off, I had a complete meltdown (the fact that I was changing anti-depressants at the time did NOT help matters). The second time, I hadn't quite recovered from my first meltdown and dissolved into tears of frustration again. The third time, I gave up and walked my horse the remaining 10km of the event. I was done. My mind couldn't wrap my head around the fact that my body could no longer deliver to the impossible standards of a cocky 18 year old.
The same thing (minus the multiple melt-downs) happened at Slow Pitch. I was writing cheques my body couldn't cash. Growing up I played quite often (my Mom was super into it so I naturally practiced lots), so I wasn't half bad. I had never really played competitively before, but this is a beer league, so no biggie. Right?
Well, after being unable to manage nothing better then a bunt, and being totally winded after running the bases (with a break at each one), something dawned on me. I'M NOT 18 ANYMORE!! Not to mention the fact that the most physical thing I've done all winter is climbing stairs and walking 2 blocks twice a day. The hardest thing about all of this? Letting myself be ok with it! Letting myself know that I'll get better as the summer goes on and not to worry about it. This isn't the Olympics, and as long as I'm having fun who gives a bibble?
I mean, yeah, my legs were killing me by the end of the night, and the day after I was given a cruel reminder that I do in fact have abdominal muscles. And thigh muscles. And calf muscles. And muscles in my arms. OWWWW!!! Moving for the next couple days was not that much fun. But I did it. And I'll do it again this week (and this weekend, we have a tournament...).
The moral of my random rantings (that isn't entirely creative, but for sure applies to it), it's OK to suck at something that you used to be good at! The skills will come back if you give them time, and NO ONE is holding you to anywhere near the standards you're holding yourself to. Not-a-one!! Give yourself room to grow and you will, and you'll probably come out better then you were before!
Anyways, enough preaching for one day!! :P Hopefully my next post will be a lil more creative-based, but the moral applies to creativity as well, so close enough. :)
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| My pretty new glove :) |
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