Full Tilt
Excerpt from Z by Theresa Anne Fowler:
“You know Sara, nothing halfway.”
Whereas I did everything in my life halfway, or worse.
“You, my dear, seem stuck, too.”
And I was. What did I commit to absolutely?
…
How did Sara manage nothing halfway? Was it built into her character? Or something she’d aspired to when she was younger, maybe? Something she’d worked at and then achieved? What chance did I have? Surely Sara had been born perfect.
For days, while at my morning and afternoon dance classes, while I ate, while I bathed, while I tried but failed to sleep, I considered how I might become more like the women I respected and admired. Surrounded as I was by such ambitious, accomplished women, I couldn’t ignore the little voice in my head that said maybe I was supposed to shed ‘halfway’ and do something. significant. Contribute something. Accomplish something. Choose. Be.
When I turned 30, I read Z, a fictional book outlining Zelda Fitzgerald’s life, not knowing it would feel a bit like my own at the time. The above excerpt resonated with me so immensely I was compelled to physically notate the words. Not in my daily journal practice rather, in a large notebook used for to-do lists, projects, ideas, and motivations. As I considered retiring from a performance career, I felt lost and stuck and as if I only lived life halfway.
A decade later, I rediscovered the notebook. Reading the entry was a gut-punch. Am I living life in circles? Did I not learn my lesson and am destined to repeat my failures in loops and swirls? Insert the September 17th 2024 Full Moon Eclipse. Full Moon in Pisces. My sign. A sign full of creativity and intuition. Known for meandering, dreamy qualities. Full moon + lunar eclipse = an enigma. Right? And this particular instance is supposed to shake up our ways of existing, casting off old cycles and fulfilling our deepest desires. Spicing our lives with a bit of magic.
At least that’s what a friend shared with me. And, oh, how I hope it’s true! I know I’m repetitive in this theme and sentiment every post now…excuse me while I manifest my destiny of getting paid to adventure then write about it. Cackle. Also, Dear Universe—please afford me the time and flexibility to create, promote, and execute WellMess Retreats for women—thank you. A space, a time, a vibe where women can simply BE.
Sigh. I digress. What I’m slowly undulating towards is wondering whether Sara also felt the same as Z. Maybe that’s what drove her to be so accomplished. Maybe she didn’t see, feel, understand her own ambition as being enough. After all, we never truly know the depths of how we are perceived and the ways in which we are admired. Maybe I don’t either. And just maybe, maybe!, I’m a bit more like Sara than my previous version contemplated.
In passing, my friends comment on my “boundless energy” (thank you ADHD) or how I am an “inspiration” (please recall I don’t have kids or pets) or how cute and clever I am (oh wait, that’s me manifesting again!). I s’pose I never saw it for myself while I was always looking forward. Looking to those who inspire me. Admiring the ‘significant contributions’ they make or the ‘accomplishments’ of their careers or the breathtaking lifestyle they live. Selfishly wishing those for myself. As is the human condition.
What patterns in your life are you ready to shed, recycle, or reuse?
Not long after reading Z, I lucked out with an acceptance into the MFA program in ballet at the University of Utah. What deliciously delicate timing, as the process of losing my sweet Holly girl weighed heavily on my soul. As that first semester began, my cohort stood outside enamored with the solar eclipse. The following week Holly passed. Oddly, my saving grace was the responsibility for teaching 7:30am ballet classes. A way for me to ignore the ache of the hole in my morning routine, an overwhelmingly all encompassing program requiring full dedication. The semester continued and I mustered minimal motivation, merely trying my best. It wasn’t enough. I knew.
I’ve mentioned how timid and how disbelieving in myself I was as a younger human. I’ve touched on why. I have yet to fully divulge the details (the stories) of those that upheld those beliefs. That semester, a few weeks after Holly’s death when I felt most alone in the world, the director of the program eyed me with scorn and reiterated the idea that I needed to do more while we sat in their office reviewing my work. Reminding me I wasn’t doing enough. My insides shattered. I took full responsibility.
I also bought a cheap spoon ring etched with the phrase I am enough. When we consider with envy those around us with seemingly unquenchable drive, let us also consider their demons. All of us experienced moments in our past when someone made us feel lesser than. All of us have lashed out from our own fears and imagined failures to inflict the same tinges of pain. Now, let us all pinky promise, “tomorrow we will acknowledge our own struggles and those of the people surrounding us.” Then, we invite a little magic in our lives…
May we all go Full Tilt towards being our own inspiration.
Inevitably, after sharing stories such as this I berate myself during post conversation analyzation for being a one-upper. Always intended as a “me too!” so a friend doesn’t feel alone, only to realize afterwards that in my excitement I forgot to preface with, “you are not the only one.” And then, I feel a bit preachy. My hope and goal here today is simply to share a relatable experience. Treat my words, my tale like a skipping stone; pick it up, examine it, deem it worthy or not, and release it in the manner you feel/think appropriate. And maybe let that stone symbolize whatever pattern you need to release to step forward full tilt into this eclipse season.