I walked in today thinking that it would be business as usual, and only vaguely wondered where we would practice, since there was a gaggle of tattooed guys punching at one another on the main floor mat. And then, cute little Brett announced, "We're going in the ring today."
I had a little panic attack. Umm... that thing is raised up, like 4 feet off the floor, a spectacle for all to behold. I am just barely OK with the fact that I am in the boxing gym at all. I am wearing pink boxing gloves, for crying out loud! There is a gaggle of tattooed men down below! The Ring! Oh My God.
I told cute little Brett about my panic attack, but he didn't care. So, we stepped into The Ring, a place other people go. I could hear the Rocky music in the back of my head begin to play. And I started to laugh. Really, laughter took over where panic began.
Nobody else in the gym seemed to care that I was in the ring - it is probably a really common occurrence - but for me, it was like a little victory dance. I conquered a fear - I got up in a place where I was visible, doing something totally out of my comfort zone, and I enjoyed it. I made a bunch of racket, not only laughing, but working my ass off, and I didn't care whether I looked stupid, or weird, or funny. I just let go, and I had a blast! This is what it's all about, people. Being in our bodies, and finding the joy. Releasing the shame and fear, and allowing ourselves to LIVE, whatever that means for each of us.
This is a Rocky-worthy victory, for sure.