Overcoming Fears
January 27, 2010 Musings No CommentsIf I were to set a resolution for this year, instead of achieving great successes, it might just be overcoming fears for me.
One of the things I have most often shared with those who ask me, the greatest thing a man can have for himself is freedom. Freedom to live, freedom from financial constrains, freedom from illness, and of course, freedom from fear.
Honestly, I’m not a very brave man, unlike my father who knows nothing about cowardice. His is a reckless courage, eager to rush headlong into physical danger for the sake of showing me what a man should be. I am however, a lot more cautious. I like to see where I’m going, plan ahead for an infinite number of possibilities, and still bail if I feel one ounce of insecurity.
The past few years have been about removing one of my greatest fears – my fear of another man. That stage of my life has reached an acceptable level in my opinion. I no longer fear the average bully, as I’m confident that my skills should allow me to defend, and take out if needs be, a significantly larger opponent. The benchmark has always been my father (still a head taller and wider than me), and well, I’m content to say I don’t see him as a threat anymore.
Ok, long preamble done.
Today marks the day I embark on another journey to address a different fear. A small fear that I can live with, but will have tremendous impact in raising my self-esteem nonetheless, should I overcome it.
The fear of the dancefloor.
Dancing has always been a royal pain in the ass for me. I love dancing, rocking out, and having a good time. But I suck at my body movements, and I am way too self-conscious about it. The end result is that I get too little practice, and end up taking very conservative and awkward movements whenever I dance in public.
If you ask me, lousy coordination aside, it’s a larger self-image problem that needs to be addressed.
So there I stood at the counter of the dance studio, hesitating, wondering if I made the right decision to try out a lesson. My very first Hip Hop class.
Barely a few minutes in, and I knew my gut instincts were right. I have not a single spark nor talent for dancing, and was atrociously horrible at it! To add to the irony, I was standing in the front row, and nearest to the glass window where all the passerbys could look in. What an eye-cringing show I must have put on!
I couldn’t help but feel thoroughly amused. Despite my valiant efforts to keep up with the class, I was having way too much difficulties remembering steps, looking at the mirror, feeling the beat, trying to look good, and in general just feeling extremely self-conscious and embarassed about the whole thing. The instructor addressed the class with the tone of someone who has seen too many failures and non-talents that he gave up trying eons ago.
In the end, the class ended with me feeling like a complete idiot, with terrible coordination and stiff limbs. Couldn’t help telling myself how bad I sucked. And the experience was so horrible I never want to relive it again.
So I signed up for the class.
Might as well right? Since I hated the feeling, the discomfort and uneasiness, the awkward movements, and the utter lack of talent, might as well put myself through a few more classes to get used to it, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll improve after that. That’s what classes are for anyway. And if I still turn out to be hopeless, well at least I tried, and perhaps I’d be less self-conscious of getting onto the dance floor and flailing like a moron the next time. From experience, you can get used to being embarassed if you do it often enough, hehe.
It remains to be seen how I’ll come out surviving from the next few classes. No way am I gonna be a prodigy, but hey, it’s all about building those blocks of confidence one brick at a time.
Rock on, y’all!
