re-learning to walk, re-writing the script

It’s been a hot minute since I did a primarily written post. I think they tend to be more accessible, but it’s ironic I’m choosing this format for that reason, given the topic I’m broaching. I’ve mentioned before that when I’m high, I see myself more in the 3rd person. I can’t say it’s objective, since that doesn’t exist. How you are perceived is an ever evolving kaleidoscope of different perspectives. However, I am more able to see the forest, rather than each individual tree, each individual frustration or trauma. 

What I saw last night helped me better understand this feedback I’ve gotten, that I can come across as aloof. That hits me as completely impossible, given the way I usually see myself. I’ve inherited my ex’s concept of me – a panda, in both shape and personality. Bumbling, clueless, playful, somehow living despite seeming so unable to care of herself. I can be an absent-minded professor on a good day, but never not golden retriever friendly. If anything, I saw myself as way too eager and bubbly. The emote he always use to say I embodied was the one from bttv – “pepega”.

But watching my videos back, I can see where the potential disconnect is. When I get talking about a subject, I tend to retreat up into my own mind. I get so focused on puzzle solving and explaining, I’m no longer present with the audience or the person I’m talking to. I can imagine if you met me in a context where we were discussing a topic, or doing a specific activity, the only part of me you would see is this focused, professor-like energy. I get a sense of being unmoored…or afraid she cares more about what she’s talking about than me? I’m grasping for words to describe the feeling.  

There’s two other factors that make it an off-putting, or at least unusual, energy. Bringing that level of seriousness and care and need to be “right” about every single thing is…a lot. Maybe exhausting. Maybe she thinks it’s showing respect to the other person to take what they are saying seriously, and sometimes it works that way, but sometimes I imagine it’s a relentless intensity. The other part is this mismatch between the polish of the words and the emotional childishness. Very similar to my art, no amount of rendering skill or subtlety is going to circumvent the fact that at the core is a wide eyed 12 year old girl. It’s almost worse the more the superficial aspects look mature and considered, because of the dissonance.

So how do I fix it? DO I need to fix it? I would like to feel less lonely. Maybe the best version of me is someone like Edna Mode . She doesn’t beg to be understood, she shows up as she is, and gives her energy to those who respect her and value what she has to offer. She knows her obsession with her art and the deep knowledge that feeds her expertise is not something she has to apologize for – it’s why people seek her out. She knows she will be found by those who need her. I imagine it’s still a lonely existence, but it’s framed more like – there are not many people who match her frequency. Not because it’s wrong, but because it’s …a lot. 

I don’t think I’m really as cold and bitchy as Edna though. Not inside. The real answer is letting the panda out. Being softer. My instinct when feeling or fearing rejection is to get more and more careful about how I word things, analyze and problem solve. What I don’t realize in the moment is the right words, the right narrative, the right argument, none of that is going to solve what is really at issue. Deeper level connection is facilitated by relaxing into a more loving energy, rather than closing up like a clam in fear. Staying in the moment, in the emotional and social experience, rather than just in the intellectual part. 

Metaphor incoming – I’ve found out through my pelvic PT that I have what is called hypermobility. Sounds great on the surface, what’s not to love about being very flexible? It turns out loosey goosey ligaments can make stabilization harder, particularly in the core. What can happened, my PT told me, is that people with hypermobility often use their diaphragm to stabilize, which makes correct breathing in exercise very difficult. As we tried some strength training for my back and shoulders, she found what she suspected, which is that I hold my breath during the exertions. That tightening and rigidity of the diaphragm keeps me centered. I knew too that from being overweight, I suck in my stomach to an extreme degree – subconsciously, at every waking moment.

So this week I wondered, how much does this impact my walking? As I was pacing in my meditative circle,  I tried to relax my diaphragm, telling it it’s only job right now was to be with my lungs. I suddenly felt a huge sense of relief, and my weight seemed to shift from the center of my stomach to lower down on both my hip bones. I imagined two stilts running along the side of my body, and my core – my stomach, my lungs and diaphragm, my pelvic floor – all hung loose in between them like slack clothes lines. I tried taking a step- hip popped instantly, and everything in my center tightened right back up. Ok, pause, back to the mental image. Breathing…yes, I feel the lung capacity opened up….Ready. Now I find my instinct is to walk without bending my knees. Makes sense, in a way. It feels more stable, more like the stilts in my mind. I force my knee to bend, though, while trying to stay relaxed. Pop! The hips are already sore, all of this feels wrong…simultaneously more comfortable and right, but also weird and wrong. Diaphragm was having none of it, and started tensing back up the second I took a step, no matter how much I mentally prepared. 

This is what I imagine taking the tinman suit off will look like, socially/emotionally speaking. It will be a slow, difficult process, ego destroying and terrifying. My amygdala will have a lot to say, and will fight to maintain the “safe” status quo. I’m metaphorically AND LITERALLY relearning how to walk. On the same flagstone I did 32-33 years ago. My life is a sitcom aahhhhhhhh. Why so on the nose all the time? The footbinding metaphor now is so much more resonant. Uncurling, unlearning the compensation for the warped anatomy, finding your footing, finally. Painfully. Quite literally, one step at a time. 

I am going to include one audio log – I did it outside, and I actually think the birds are a nice touch. That is one thing that will be an unexpected soul-crush if we live to see the apocalypse – utter silence, without that ever present song of life we take for granted. SHUT UP EMO GIRL. Sorry. Anyway, there was a new development around the stand up show danny will be in. The idea of going is continuing to flirt with me in ways I did not ask for. I fear I cannot resist the urge of it being my question for tarot class tonight. Really, though, it’s not so much if I should or shouldn’t go. I need to lessen the neurotic need to divine the “correct” choice, and just go with what feels right.

Here also is a bit of unexpected nostalgia that resurfaced —

From that I was inspired to do a nostalgia playlist. I can’t say it makes sense as a back to front casual listening experience, but maybe some of it also resonates with your childhood.

And finally, if you’ve somehow made it this far – some horrible cringe karaoke. The miss piggy of it all is the only thing that saves it, I think.