Wellness is a Journey…
So often we think of wellness as something to be achieved. We just need to lose 10 lbs first. We need to lower our cholesterol first. We need to start journaling first.
That’s not quite how wellness works though, is it? Wellness is an ongoing journey. Just because you are well today, that doesn’t guarantee you’ll be well tomorrow. It requires maintenance. And this applies to all aspects of wellness, not just physical health.
As regular readers will know, I had the opportunity to attend a wellness festival a few months ago. But what you don’t know is how much I struggled with my mental health after one of the workshops I attended.
Humbling Handstands
The first workshop I went to was one that I was incredibly excited about- an introduction to handstands. In hindsight, I should’ve known better than to expect too much. Handstands are a skill that take a lot of strength and balance. People spend years practicing to be able to do them. Yet, for some reason, I thought I was going to learn how to do one in an hour-long workshop.
The workshop started off with promise. There were only two of us, so we’d have plenty of one-on-one instruction. The instructor introduced herself and then walked us through some exercises to warm up and strengthen our wrists. She showed us how to properly set up our handstands and explained how they don’t take nearly as much strength if you stack your body in a certain way. Everything was going well.
Then we moved on to partner drills. My partner was a yoga instructor who had been practicing handstands for a while, so she was able to kick up into a handstand with minimal support. She made it look so easy, I thought for sure that I’d be able to do it too. I’d just finished my own yoga instructor training and was lifting weights several times a week. Surely I was strong enough to support my own body weight while upside down.
The Upside Down
I went into my attempt with high hopes. My partner lifted my feet up and I shifted my hips forward, stacking them over my hands. I was almost there! Then I was kicking my feet out of my partner’s hands to get them back to the ground ASAP. My shoulder was on fire. It wasn’t painful like I’d injured it, but the way my muscles were burning indicated that the stability I needed just wasn’t there.
It should’ve been no big deal. I’d been doing physical therapy for a torn labrum for months. I knew there was a chance that my shoulder wasn’t ready for this. And yet, I was humiliated.
With the instructor’s encouragement, I tried one more time, and I bailed again. Flushed and fighting back tears, I informed the instructor that I wasn’t going to be able to finish the workshop. My shoulder just wasn’t ready for this yet.
The emotional response I was experiencing was completely irrational. I should’ve been proud of myself for trying something hard, for failing and trying again, for honoring my body when it told me it wasn’t ready. Instead, I felt childish and extremely self-conscious of my body.
Picking Up the Pieces
Like many Americans, I’ve struggled with my weight for much of my life. I grew up in a single-parent household where we often had a shortage of high-quality food. Between this and the toxic diet culture of the 90s, I haven’t always had the healthiest relationship with my body. I’ve spent years walking the line between “disordered eating” and “eating disorder,” and several more trying to heal from that mindset.
Most days anymore, I’m completely fine. I still carry a few extra pounds I’d like to lose, but it doesn’t affect my health. I love my body for what it can do, how much it can lift, and how far it can run. But in that moment, I was back to my teen self, convinced that I was obese because I couldn’t still fit into little girl’s jeans at 16. Back to the chubby kid who was always chosen last in gym class. Why did I think my body would be capable of something as challenging as a handstand when I was so fat?
The rational part of my brain knew that I was being ridiculous. I wasn’t weak, I was recovering from an injury. The other woman attending the workshop wasn’t able to do the drills because she was thin, but because she had been practicing them for a while. I should’ve been proud of myself for trying something new instead of being embarrassed for failing my first attempt.
I’m able to see it that way now, but it took some time and a lot of work. I’ve journaled about it and done the shadowwork. I’ve talked it over with my therapist. I’m still not sure why that specific event was so triggering for me, but my view of it is a lot healthier.
Conclusion
Now it serves as a reminder that we can’t just do the work once and be done with it. We can’t just correct the negative thoughts once and call it good. Wellness is something we have to continually work towards.
When we choose wellness, we’re choosing a lifestyle. We’re making a commitment to ourselves to continue putting in the work, to keep improving. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable. But if we keep putting in the work, then we’ll keep reaping the rewards.
This was a little more personal than what I usually share, so please be kind in the comments. And feel free to share any bumps you’ve had in your own wellness journey!
