How one 5-minute conversation with myself changed the direction of my life.
In January 2023, driving along a country road alone on a lazy summer afternoon, I had a conversation with myself that sent the hands of my life’s clock spinning in reverse.
The night before, I had been at a 20-year reunion for an international dance troupe of which I had been a member in my 20s and early 30s. I am not a reunion girl; I’m actually not comfortably a party/group get-together type of girl in any form. This was the first reunion (school or otherwise) that I had ever attended. I had decided to go at the last minute after realising that I had accumulated enough frequent flyer points to travel interstate and friends had a spare bed waiting for me, just in case I decided to go.
To my greatest surprise, I had a wonderful time at this event. I had somehow forgotten how many of the highlights of my early adult life I had experienced with these fabulous people. I was immediately reminded of how many times we had escaped from our at-home lives of burgeoning careers, partners, and growing adult responsibilities. Together, we visited a magical parallel universe of travel, friendship, achievement, and once-in-a-lifetime adventures in unique locations all over the world.
How had my life moved on so rapidly that experiences like this could have faded from my memory? What was my life all about without celebrating and relishing opportunities like these?
Towards the end of the night at the reunion, the Team Director transitioned from reflecting on the past 20 years to outlining where the team was headed over the next two or three. One particular event in mid-2024 would be a big one, she told the excitable, reflective, jovial audience, so you all should dust off your dancing shoes and get practising!
We all laughed and cheered. There were even some enthusiastic whoops and whistles.
The next day, I was driving home alone, reflecting on the night as I enjoyed the sunshine streaming in my window and singing along to my favourite playlist. I was sipping the remains of a coffee I had stopped to buy on a whim because I was luxuriously on my own time for a few more hours of the weekend. Ah, the simple pleasures of travelling without partners and children. How fortunate I am!
All of a sudden, a very clear question popped into my head.
“Why did you laugh?”
With no one there, I mentally laughed again as I reimagined the scene from the night before.
The question came again – “Why did you laugh?”
My own mental voice answered. “I laughed because it was ridiculous!”
“What was ridiculous?” came the reply.
“You know what, Cheryl’s joke about getting our pumps back on for OzScot next year”.
“Why is it?” came the reply.
Then the floodgates opened.
“Because she couldn’t have meant me! I’ll be 45 in the middle of 2024, and I haven’t danced properly for over 12 years… I can’t even run to the front door without having sore achilles tendons for days afterwards, and childbirth has meant that any time I jump, there is a chance I may need to make a quick dash for the bathroom…. No one wants to watch a middle-aged woman prancing around amongst young adults at their physical peak, and I’ve moved on from that time in my life, haven’t I?”
My unexpected mental tantrum was desperation-tinged, and the teacher, guide, and coach in me was gob-smacked by how pitiful this all sounded.
I know better than this… what was this all actually about?
Aside from the fact that this was a ridiculous idea – it WAS a ridiculous idea, wasn’t it? – I really didn’t like hearing all of this ‘stuff’ that I seemed to have bottled up inside.
Where were these limitations coming from? At what point had I signed up for sensible middle-age? What were these physical worries all about? Did I actually think all of that stuff about myself in a deep, dark hole underneath my day-to-day life?
Whoa… this wasn’t a mental conversation I thought I’d be having with myself as I enjoyed my relaxing drive home!
Even though the idea of dancing again was ridiculous—it was DEFINITELY ridiculous—I flipped on my coach’s hat and started giving myself some of my own medicine.
“Lisa, there are plenty of people in their 40s, 50s, ….60s, ….70s and beyond who do amazing things physically; why are you any different? Don’t you think you could do it? Are you worried that you aren’t 25 years of age anymore? Well, face it—you aren’t—but that doesn’t mean that you couldn’t find a place on the team if you really wanted to.”
Coach Lisa didn’t mince her words.
“You’re in great health for your age, and there is no reason that you couldn’t get back onto that team if you really put your mind to it. Yes, it’s true that you aren’t fit enough right now, and of course, you aren’t in the same body you were 20 years ago, but this goal is 18 months away. Don’t tell me you are too busy… You have plenty of time to get yourself in good enough shape to take a valued place in the team if you want to. You know that most goals are achieved simply by making a series of choices. You live a life where you have the privilege that most things are simply a choice. Remember your motto – There is no such thing as can’t?’ You can absolutely get yourself back into condition to join the dancing team next year; it is up to you whether you choose to do the work it will take… or not.
Hmmn….
Five minutes before this internal conversation, I didn’t realise that I had any aspiration to perform on stage again. Suddenly, I found myself seriously questioning the reasons I was giving myself for why I couldn’t.
This led to some momentary daydreaming… Did I actually NOT want to dance again, or was I just settling for the easier road, one I had fallen into on autopilot in my middle years? One that was comfortable and that the world around me said was right for someone my age? Maybe exploring that parallel universe again had more appeal than I realised in a very long time.
At that moment, an idea took hold.
I have long been on the journey of questioning and re-writing the stories that I had previously held as true from my earlier life. I witness students, clients, friends, and family operating to beliefs and stories that limit and hold them back from seeing their own real potential and possibility all of the time. And, here I was throwing up reasons why I couldn’t dance any longer that were not facts, but simply choices I was making that I didn’t even realise.
I sat with three big questions.
Does being 45 really stop me from being able to join the OzScot team again? Would the suggestion have been made if it was really not a possibility?
Yes, it has been a long while since I’ve been able to dance freely, and I do avoid activities that stir up old injuries that I’ve been carrying for decades, but is it all really that bad that I couldn’t work through it?
What would aiming to get back in the team look like? What would it mean to me? To other people? How much of my decision is based on what the rest of the world thinks someone like me should be doing rather than what I would like to do?
Driving a bit further along the road, I realised I had two choices: I could let this crazy idea fade into an excellent reunion story, or I could look a bit deeper into the answers to the questions that were now present in my mind.
What would I say to another person who was asking for advice in this situation?
The answer to that question was easy.
I suddenly realised I had some phone calls to make…
