Let’s Talk Starting Over
Starting something over in midlife comes with a treasure trove of experience to draw from.
It’s been a year since my Waldorf adventure and I’ve been reflective over the last few weeks as reminders of the stress and uncertainty of that time have cropped up for me. It’s surreal now to think back on it all. Between the hospital, the midline, the surgery, the recovery, the tooth pull, and the frozen shoulder I was happy to put it all behind me and move forward. I spent the last year recovering, healing, and returning to a healthier version of myself. It took months of a nutrition protocol to rebuild my gut. It took hours of ART with a practitioner to break up the adhesions in my shoulder. It took looking at some of my habits that had not been serving me and deciding to create new habits in their place. It took one step at a time every day.
I realized today that I’m starting over. I lifted weights this week and it was the first time since last year that I woke up with soreness in my chest from even being able to lift enough for it to be challenging. I’d been laying groundwork and foundation for months and now it’s paying off. I’ve never enjoyed being a beginner at anything. When I’ve tried something new in the past, I’ve been really hard on myself if I didn’t pick it up immediately or do it perfectly right off the bat. When I started playing music years ago I had to face the wall while playing piano and singing because I couldn’t bear to see people’s reactions to a less-than-perfect performance. IN REHEARSAL…you know, the place where you’re supposed to practice. In hindsight it’s ridiculous, and thankfully I’ve battled my perfectionism into submission…mostly.
As I lay on the ground on my yoga mat, arms stretched overhead with a welcome ache in my pecs and no pain in my shoulder, I embraced my gratitude for new beginnings. I’m excited to start all over in the weight room with new goals and a well-rounded plan. I even sat down at the piano this evening and plucked away at the keys I haven’t laid fingers on in a very long time. Refusing to expect myself to play any of my old favorites, I’m happy to open to page 1 of my piano book and start from the very beginning once again. Starting over isn’t a setback at all because there is a deep well of experience and knowledge tucked away in my muscles, my brain, and my hands. There is memory. There is history. There is patience. Here’s to starting over.
