After studying Thai kickboxing for three and a half years, I found out today I'm punching wrong.
Of course, my first reaction was humiliation. "I'm doing it WRONG??!!"
The second reaction was anger. "Why didn't anybody tell me before this??!!"
The third reaction was frustration. "Am I EVER going to learn this stuff??!!"
The fourth, despair. "Why do I even bother? I'm too old, too slow, too heavy, too ME."
Fortunately, after stewing in my juices for awhile, a tiny little voice popped up:
"Why am I doing this, anyway?"
And there was the answer.
I didn't take this up with the intention of becoming a master street fighter. Or to get a black belt. Or to impress people, or fool myself into thinking I would ever be good at it.
I did it because it keeps me on my toes, physically, mentally and emotionally.
It's a GOOD workout--I'm sweaty and exhausted when I'm done. It's helping me keep the weight off, and I'm definitely more fit than when I started. More importantly, it's the ONLY workout I've managed to maintain for more than a few months. Except for times of major injury or when I'm out of town, I manage to take in 3-5 classes a week.
In short, I'm here because it's sorta fun and I like the results.
So why sweat that my punches suck bigtime? Or my reverse crescent kick isn't what it could be? Or my footwork is a little...shall we diplomatically say, slow as molasses in February?
I need to remember WHY I'M HERE when it comes to kickboxing.
And the same when it comes to my artwork.
I'm all caught up in deadlines, applications, inventory and marketing. I'm despairing of ever getting caught up with orders, book projects, bookkeeping and postcard mailings. I obsess about whether a bracelet is perfectly finished, or whether one horse sculpture I've priced at $150 is exactly as big as another one I've priced at the same. I worry about what other artists say, what my customers think, what the jury will do. It never ends.
Which is why, it's good to occasionally step back and say,
"Remember why you're here."
It's not about doing the work perfectly, or about running a business perfectly. It's not about perfection at all.
It's to make the art that's in me, visible in the world.