Choose to be the energy in the room, don't adapt to it
Being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you.
--- Bob Marley
I’ve spent the last five years in introspection, digging right down to the bedrock to make sense of the woman I was becoming. Yet lately I’ve been asked to embrace a much different energy. Last year, apart from living through a pandemic, I also had emergency surgery. I had been in severe pain for three days until my mum finally convinced me to see my doctor on the fourth. I didn’t go home after that, just straight to A&E. It took me out for two months - no dancing, no climbing, no hiking.
Funny things happen when you’re forced to be still. It planted a seed of thought that's just now manifesting in my world (mostly because I'm a procrastinator when it comes to these things).
I’ve been part of the waiata (singing) group at work for almost as long as I’ve worked there. Singing is something I enjoy and it’s a great way to get to know your workmates. I can sing in tune most of the time but I’ve always been more comfortable as part of the ensemble, not as a soloist. I would turn up to waiata on a Friday, and all around me I could feel many around me holding back. So I held back too. We mirrored each other, and for a while I felt our growth as a group stagnate.
At the start of the year, I started to learn how to be a kaea (to lead the songs) in the group. I put in the work to learn the words by heart, and use my years of dance experience to remember the actions. Yet along the way, I allowed my need for perfection and insecurities to get in the way. I started to lose confidence in my abilities and in the end all I wanted to do was to be swallowed up by the numbers.
What would I look like if I chose to be the energy in the room instead of adapting to it? Is she really any different to the woman I am now?
What stops us from being that energy? It's vulnerable, confronting and it's something we have to choose each time. Choose to let go of the need for perfection, and to play to your strengths instead of focusing on the lack.
Choose to be comfortable being uncomfortable.
I’m a procrastinator, but once I’ve made up my mind, I’m tenacious in the pursuit of being exceptional. So, I did just that. Last Friday I walked into waiata with the intention to grow. I know all the kaea (lead) parts of the songs we sing, yet each week I would get scared and talk myself out of even trying. That morning, I only had to do one thing. One thing. If I was asked to lead a song, I would to say yes. That’s it. Bung notes or not, I chose to face my fear. I allowed myself to be vulnerable.
That afternoon I found myself in bed, nursing a numb mouth after my visit to the dentist. I had gone in for a filling and left with one less wisdom tooth instead. As time passed, the tingling on my lips reminded me to take paracetamol before the feeling fully returned.
“You know what, I feel really peaceful,” was my reply when Mayer asked how I’d been. We’re planning a two-nighter in the backcountry in a couple of weeks and caught up to sort out some logistics. Stuff like how to get to the trailhead, pick up and most importantly, how much alcohol I could carry for him. I’m not sure our friendship quite extends to carrying extra weight in my pack voluntarily, let alone alcohol that I won’t even drink.
We had been talking about our lockdown experiences - he had thrown himself into his work, but like myself, always planning the next mission. I realised we hadn’t tramped together for over a month, and apart from a few texts, I hadn’t really talked to him. That pretty much sums up most of my friendships, with some of my closest friends resigning themselves to a get-together about three times a year. Not that I think Mayer and I are particularly close, but we do happen to share an equal obsession with tramping and the bush.
Everything is shifting, but sometimes I still get impatient because the changes don’t come fast enough. Growing pains in a place of transition. Vulnerability fosters intimacy and allows us to connect more deeply with people in our lives. It asks us to be compassionate and authentic. I choose to let my walls down for good. That’s the energy I choose to bring into a room.
xo Ronna Grace
fivefootronna is Ronna Grace Funtelar - a thirtyish adventurer, sometimes poet and lover of cheese. She has a unique brand of optimism that is a combination of her great enthusiasm for life and cups of coffee during the day.