“Shit,” I thought, “if I broke my nose, I’ll have to wake up Matthias.”
Matthias is my roommate and of course it was 1am at night. I gingerly tested my nose, my fingers came away slightly bloody.
It started when I confidently posted in my fitness group that I could now consistently do crow pose.
No, further back, it started when I decided that I would do crow pose damnit! and went in search of strength experts to help my wobbly wrists grow stronger. I got the help I needed along with weekly accountability and stronger wrists. Two weeks ago I could hold myself up for five seconds for the first time. And since then I’ve moved to holding it fine most of the time. Most of the time.
To do this I carefully place my hands on a mat, fix a point slightly ahead of me. Put my knees on my arms and then lift one toe after the other off the ground until I’m precariously balanced on my hands. It’s a strange and exhilarating feeling.
Each day I noticed how I got more familiar with the pose and with the feeling, how I was getting stronger and more confident.
Then one night I decide that I can just do crow pose wherever. I have visions of myself balancing on rocks with sun-splashed waves crashing behind me with a delightful bokeh effect. And well “Hochmut kommt vor dem Fall” as they say in german. Overconfidence leads to stupidity, and trying to balance on your arms in the dark on a plain floor, when having a visual focus is part of keeping your balance IS stupidity.
And so I toppled over forward and couldn’t reach my hands in front of my face in time, for obvious reasons.
Like crow pose, balancing overconfidence and timidity in our habits is a constant precarious act, but, also like crow pose, one that can be learned. It’s learning the difference between standing up for oneself and brashly ignoring everyone else’s needs. It means knowing when it is ok to let people have their way and when you you are being a doormat. To most of us these distinctions don’t come naturally, but when we learn them it enables us to actively shape our lives. To live, as I like to say, more congruently.
As for the fall: Turns out my nose wasn’t broken, just badly bruised. I took a cold pack out of the fridge and stuck it on my nose to avoid giant purple signs of my stupidity. It seems I was lucky.