Last week a penny kind of dropped for me. I was in the middle of a yoga class when the voice that enters my head most times I teach started chirping at me, you are terrible at this, no one is enjoying it, you have made this too hard, no too easy, you are not a good teacher, why do you think you can do this, and all of a sudden I just didn't want to be there. I wanted to be done, out the door, away from everyone, away from that moment. And this is a pretty regular occurrence for me day to day. I start things with good intentions but about half way through I realise I could fail; that I can't guarantee I am / will be good at it, and so I want out. Fight or flight, right? Well usually I choose flight.
However in the middle of the yoga class I remembered something my Grandma had said to me earlier that day about courage and being brave, and how that will look different for everyone, in different moments and different days, but sometimes you just have to trust what you know and go for it.
For a long time I have put so much pressure on myself to be perfect - to act perfect, look perfect, teach perfect, be perfect - that I stopped living my life properly, it was as though everything came to a stand still because not taking part seemed more reliable and safe. But what I have come to realise is that by not showing up I caused so much more pain than I would have done had I just jumped in head first - because by holding onto fear I increased it, I made my boxes smaller and drew my lines more finely; I perpetuated suffering and stayed small.
I think I have come to see that being brave is showing up anyways in spite of knowing you will fall short of perfection. It is letting go of all those expectations and ideals in your head and having the courage to be exactly as you are right now.
For me that looks like this: trusting my teaching ability despite self doubt, eating enough to nourish my body and believing that I will still be lovable even if I get bigger. It is understanding that I do not have to struggle to prove I am working hard; it is growing up, living my life, participating, dreaming, hoping… all with the knowledge that I can not control anything, that I will not be perfect, and that there are no guarantees, but being brave enough to go ahead anyways.
So I guess I am excited to live imperfectly, because I think that will be letting go. Failure just means you showed up - how exciting and brave and freeing is that? And you know what? I think that is what enough looks like; being kind always, and being brave enough to try.