For a long time, I admitted I am a klutz. And for a long time, I found myself embarrassed by my clumsiness, cascading into I am foolish, boiling into I am inept, erupting into I am stupid. We label our emotions and notions as our being, as who we are.
I tend to do foolish things, ergo I am a fool.
I display ineptness, therefore I am inept.
I act stupidly, hence I am stupid. And so on.
But it is not.
The “I AM” – phrase is never meant to be used for what we feel, or what we think.
What I feel is NoT who I AM.
What I think is NoT who I AM.
I didn’t know this before.
Then one day, on one of my graceful episodes of bungling walking skills, I walked right into the door frame. I swore the friggin doorway moved as I was about to pass it. My shoulder hurt like sh*t, bruised beyond the muscles, and the whole of me bounced back feeling some jarring inside my head. I was stunned. But I laughed. I kept laughing and laughing. And remembered all the other incidents that happened from being klutzy. My belly hurt and tears stream from my eyes. I found myself loving this awesome trait of fumblingly walking into anything, alive or not.
What’s my point?
I’m getting there. 😉
The point is… we are never perfect when we categorized ourselves to ideals that probably only exist in the head. What we do with these imperfections is what counts. It is what matters. When I keep telling myself and then saying it out loud to others that I am a klutz… heck, then I am a klutz. But why keep confirming something that only serves to bring us down? Why keep verifying a negative side? Why keep pounding on our own self-esteem?
I have been told I move fast. Quite fast that they see me as this butterfly flitting from one end to another. I fidget a lot when sitting for a long time, like meetings and such. And this is probably one of the reasons I fumble about. The reasons, true or not, do not serve as excuses for my imperfections. They are simply that.
Swinging around the concept, it is in accepting such imperfections that makes ME, that makes YoU magnificently perfect. I began seeing humour in being clumsy. I take that to the next level as I rub my injured parts while I narrate to others my other superhero skills. In turn, they begin to share theirs. And we will find ourselves laughing immensely at our imperfections… and at that particular moment, it is what made us feel joyful.
So while I need to work on moving too damn fast or learn to sit still, I like my speed; I like my fidgetiness. They are parts of my character. My character all gelled up in a ME-mosaic. I realized that it exuberates a speciality from me. It may not be the bestest form of skill… yet it is part of me. And I dare say, it simply adds character to an otherwise multi-faceted ME. In turn, it teaches others to learn and accept their own flaws, whatever they may be. Only when we learn to accept such flaws can we learn to love ourselves more. Eventually, others.
InspiritedSylphicYoga to practice for “clumsiness”. In truth, my attention is probably elsewhere, mind racing in blazing km/hr. And most likely due to anxiety and fatigue.
Adho Mukha Svanasana, to calm the growling dog in you.
Uttanasana, and other forward bends; but this is the most accessible for most.
Yoga links courtesy of YogaJournal. Until I make my own how-to articles. 😉