January 26, 2011

addendum [to that thing I said about booty shaking]

I told you that I intend to make amends by shaking my booty. And Zumba is fun, it's a fact. I dig shaking my groove thang and you should too. But it's not the whole story.

I think I (we?) believe lies in an attempt to remain protected from inevitably catastrophic fates which I can easily avoid by just not taking risks. So in going to Zumba, with a whole gym of people (read: attractive young professionals who always work out exactly when Zumba happens) watching me do the Merengue march, I risk that I might fall on my butt and be embarrassed. I believe truth (= I can do Zumba if I want), and I trust God (= God is bigger than potential catastrophes) and since I am at least relatively coordinated, probably I won't make a huge fool of myself. Therefore, Zumba is a risk, yes, but a relatively benign one.

With bigger risks, sometimes the "catastrophe" that we fear [rejection, embarrassment, vulnerability, sadness, hurt] comes true. While I'm having the time of my life popping & locking at 24 Hour Fitness, other things like actual legitimate wholehearted vulnerability are far scarier. By entering opposing lies territory, in the same breath as the fun came the suck. I think I sort of expected that since I am operating out of a healthy place, (for vocabulary's sake we'll call this "recovery") the world would respond to me as such. Well, shoot, that's not how the world works. I gave myself a pep talk, let myself be vulnerable, and lo and behold - catastrophe of catastrophes.

I started to get homesick for the safety of shame. I started to sort of yearn for before when even though I wasn't satisfied, I knew what would happen because I controlled it by not risking in the first place. I thought if this is freedom, no, thank you very much. I considered a valiant return to my old tricks, because being sad isn't fun and I wasn't prepared to give in without a fight, nooooo sir.


The lie told me I couldn't survive the risk. And I am sad, hurt, and disappointed, BUT as catastrophic as I thought catastrophe would be, lo and behold, I am surviving it. I won't go back. I know too much about freedom (and recovery and life and love and joy) to give it up now.

On the other side, truth is still truth. I am still me. Maybe even a little more so than before.


leigh annie said...

merengue march :)
popping and locking :)
"for vocabulary's sake" .yes.
"i am still me. maybe even a little more so than before" .yes.yes.yes.

{Liz} said...

just so you know - your blog posts are awesome. i needed to hear [read] this. {Liz Rand}

alixefloyd said...

so perfect.

B. said...

This reminds me of lyrics from Peter, Bjorn and John's 'Object of My Affection':

and the question is, was i more alive then than i am now?
i happily have to disagree;
i laugh more often now, i cry more often now,
i am more me.

You should give it a listen - after some JMM, of course, whom I also listened to in elementary school :)

love you Meg.

Alli said...

I love hearing your heart.
and when you use the term "popping & locking"

You're awesome