The Head, The Heart, and The Handstand

For a new perspective try a handstand.

Two years ago I became a gym girl, and one year ago is also the anniversary of when I quit the gym. I could not find the want anymore, and so I allowed myself to stop. As a child who grew up to the tune of “no quitters in this family”, this decline in motivation to move my body brought back that harsh inner voice of mine.

This time, however, more prepared to confront it for the lies it makes up, I nipped it with a new tactic. Rather than motivating myself through pressure, I began to try encouragement. Instead, I did handstands.

Handstands are easy to try and can make you feel like a child, silly. It made moving my body, even if it was less than previous, feel like play. What I discovered is that I would actively seek to work on my handstand. There was no need for mental motivation. No “cmon, you can do this”, “you’ll feel amazing after”, or “you owe this to yourself”.

Bargaining. There was no more bargaining with my inner child. They happily wanted to do the handstand. It was fun to them.

It makes me think about how my psyche can still have that little girl’s psyche. That it was at the forefront for a grand portion of my life, and that the reason she was outgrown or pushed down, was to better fit into responsible societal roles. No more tantrums in public, if you know what I mean.

Now though, with my cool handstand skills, I wonder if maybe being an adult is simply becoming your own parent to your inner child. Being the one responsible for them, no longer your parents. It is no secret that mothers and fathers can find an instinct in parenting. Maybe it’s because we have been one before, to ourselves.

So yes, sometimes I have to bribe the child, like all good parents, but what I realized I had been doing was only focusing on her ability to be disciplined and high-achieving. What I was not letting her do, anymore, was have playtime. To be silly. To have fun. And not the kind of fun on the weekends, but the kind I convince myself I have outgrown.

No child thrives without the set-allotted playtime to freely explore their surroundings, and project their amazing imaginations into it. That and love can keep a child very happy. So happy that they just might begin to know that hard work is not so bad, because we also make room for play.

I may just be 24 years old, but I am also a parent of about a 6-year-old now. And man, those first few years are turbulent. I can successfully say that we are doing much better now.

A nice life lesson for you, if you don’t like the way your world is looking, flip it upside down. For a new perspective try a handstand.