A Pressure Indifference Is Required For Flow To Occur How to Hold Your Head High When You Are Out of Your League

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How to Hold Your Head High When You Are Out of Your League

How do you hold your head high when you’re among the last to finish the race, when you’re being leapfrogged by other candidates? How do you recover your sense of worth and dignity when many elite pole dancers have an unfortunate first impression of you? I hope to actually answer this question in the process of writing about it.

We all have felt this way at least once in our lives; That we are so inferior to those around us that we should not be in the same room, breathing the same air. When I was in fourth grade, auditions were held for piano players along with the chorus. At the time, I was enduring forced piano lessons. I felt nothing but confusion and dread about the piano, and a primal desperation to please my controlling, pregnant mother brings me to my knees to this day. I thought it would make her happy if I auditioned even though I had no business doing it. I wrote my name on the sign up sheet and asked my coach if she could help me learn the points. Mrs. Swanson simply told me that the pieces were too difficult for my level, but went ahead to help me figure out the first few solutions. How far had I gone? I never learned a piece completely. Notes floated before me like swarms of insects, a language as complex as Chinese and foreign as Swahili.

Any well-adjusted kid would have gone to school the day before the audition, asked Mrs. Cope to take his name off the list, and saved his life, but I’m a train wreck of a kid, afraid of getting angry. Or disappointing others that for some reason I can’t find the logic to this day, it felt bad to withdraw. I actually went to the audition, sat on a metal folding chair waiting my turn as a candidate, after the candidate played a full and beautiful piece of music I had a knot in my stomach so big that for the first time in my young life I thought I might actually throw up. My name was called and I sat down at the piano and played the first few measures, very, very poorly. I wasn’t hoping for some miracle to happen, that an angel would magically appear and give me the skills to play it. I just waited for the excruciating moment to end, my head bowed in shame.

The way she looked at me. She looked at me like she was chewing on leftover food that flooded the sink when the garbage disposal burst. She asked me, her disgust uncontrollable, on what business I was wasting her time. I apologized, grabbed my things and ran out of the room. From that day forward, once a week in class, for two more years, I languished in Mrs. Cope’s presence, the heat coming to my ears and the giant rock returning to the pit of my stomach like a nightmare from yesterday.

It just can’t get any worse than that. It’s never been bad, but Mrs. Cope’s experience will always make me wonder if bombing an audition is more than just having a bad day that will soon be forgotten. Today, I realize that allowing myself to be most vulnerable at an elite pole dance audition will change the terrain of my external social landscape. To be fair, I’m not referring to an actual event that is massively awkward; I didn’t fall off a pole or wind up on my lone peak. I didn’t just perfect all my tricks or move with grace and tact, my body, in perfect unison with the music. I was so lost in nerves that I couldn’t even hear the music. Still, I probably didn’t screw up as much as I thought. I may not be officially out of my league, but right at the bottom, which I think is fine, even if it’s not the most comfortable place, even if some of the guys at the top of the league try to defend their positions by saying, in no words at all, that The people at the bottom are not relevant.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice the difference between the open warmth with which the audition director greeted me and the warm indifference with which she said goodbye—or maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe I was so caught up in my own expectations that I didn’t realize I was catching her at a bad moment. While I don’t need to worry (that’s not to say I won’t), it would be helpful to make her aware of the possibility that the next time I step into a direction, her assessment of my performance today will color the direction. Interaction, expectation level. And this should be taken as an opportunity to not only be okay with me, but to prove otherwise. It takes courage to be a winner, but it takes courage to give up, to tell the world, not just in words but in action, that you believe in yourself and the possibility of your dreams.

Hoping not to sound arrogant but completely and utterly, humbly grateful, I’ll say the opposite about being top of my home league. Although I am not yet an elite pole dancer, I am a talented dancer, a pole artist of particular ability. With minimal formal training, I was mistaken for a professional dancer. Physical Assessment of My Core and Upper Body Strength Read the chart without preparation. Strangers have asked to take pictures with me after my performance. I have been showered with respect and admiration, support and love, many have said I am an inspiration to them, they see something special in my walk, an unprecedented and rare ability, my work has moved them to tears. . Women who are now dear friends of mine told me that they saw me on the pole and were afraid to approach me at first.

I just reiterated all the ways, directly and indirectly, that I got my talent recognized because today, every little thing said and done by others who are truly willing to see me for what I have and have to offer. The pole community was very important to me when I was at the bottom of the big totem pole. I am so grateful to everyone who takes time out of their day to acknowledge my efforts. Know that I remembered what you said today when I needed you the most.

I have thought a lot about what it means to be humble. If I were truly humble, would I dare confess all these things in writing? If I were truly humble, would I not keep such flatteries away in the privacy of my head, which I and I alone have re-visited, never to be brought to light as they look like walls, weapons? Women join competitions to see who can show the most humility, show the most respect to her peers. Women feel social pressure from other women to apologize for being great, as if their success hinders rather than inspires others. Aren’t I afraid of being labeled a braggart by my colleagues, or of having someone superior and capable than me, or that I’m wrong?

Today, I’m taking a risk. I won’t rehash the list of ways that my work and abilities have been seen and appreciated by others because today at the audition where the tables were turned, my memory comes from a place of gratitude for others and respect for myself. I hope that by showing respect for others and myself, I can inspire others to do the same. The part that still bothers me a bit is how others tell me they scare me. Why would something that scares others give me an ego boost? Do I get off the ammo I get with this access? During the audition, I spent a lot of time being intimidated by others, realizing the magnitude of their strength and prowess as I struggled to be present and confident.

Does recognizing another’s power mean feeling small in comparison when I’m on a different part of my journey to greatness? I left the pole audition despite a myriad of mixed feelings, so glad I went. I was there. I wasn’t qualified for the part, but I certainly deserved the chance to try out for it. Auditions are only for the one person who didn’t win because if only that one person won, no one would be pushed closer to their greatest potential. While it’s pretty clear that I should have backed out of that piano audition two decades ago, I’m wasting no one’s time moving on, challenging myself to hold onto the pole, to experience the focus and clarity of mind needed to compete. Be brave when everyone isn’t laughing at you.

In retrospect, although I missed a few tricks I thought I was in the bag and showed hesitation in recovery, my ability to pull off the trick was more or less promising among the group. Despite the fact that I wasn’t the strongest or most flexible, learning choreography under pressure made me lose confidence, and despite the feelings of inadequacy surrounding my non-ballet background, which may always be my Achilles’ heel, if anything I know about myself, the way *I* dance, With vigor, flow, intensity, presence, sensuality, confidence, emotion and sheer beauty I Can Dance and I Dance Alone is different. In my next audition, I hope to be mentally prepared enough to show this. The scariest part of today’s experience was that I couldn’t hear the music, even though there was nothing wrong with the sound or my hearing. When I lost my body-connection to the music, I lost touch with myself, watching everything unfold and float over me.

I was reminded today that to perform at an elite level, it must be all about breathing. From Iguana Mount to Helicopter to Cupid to Iron Ax to Dead Lift Phoenix to Butterfly for Aisha – it’s all well and good, but I want more. As easily as I tread water, as easily as I breathe, I have to do all of those things and more to enjoy losing my breath to the demands of these sequences, and how to enjoy regaining it at the end.

Finally, I was reminded that when you decide to go for it, whether you think the pole is slippery or you feel under the weather or you can’t focus under pressure, that you have uncertainty. Your confidence in the next league is easily eroded by the complicated energy in the room or by missing a few counts that have already passed. All these are important parts of the exam, mental hurdles and can be overcome by those who should be at the top. No one will feel sorry for you, and if they do, it will be an insult to you.

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