A little backstory
You know I started going to Orange Theory because I needed a serious kick in the ass when it came to my commitment/devotion to movement. I needed something outside my usual box. I needed an environment that helped me to do the thing, and Orange Theory covered all the bases.
If I signed up for a class and missed it, it cost me money, so I was always motivated to get out of bed and freaking go. When I got there, the music was fun and I didn’t need to think about anything because the coaches just tell you want to do. It was the perfect blend to keep me working harder than I had in a couple of years.
Let me emphasize this: I did need this to get me moving in the right direction.
And enter: Force
But one of my defaults is to push too hard. I have to watch for it, because it can happen so easily and so suddenly and I can justify it to the moon and back.
Eventually I was going to Orange Theory four times a week. On top of teaching a lot and doing other classes for my Yoga Teacher Training and playing tennis.
I was exhausted all of the time and “couldn’t figure out why.” ((hahahahaha))
I can be slow. ((even bigger laughter))
Eventually I figured it out. I cut my Orange Theory back to twice (and often once) a week. I almost quit altogether but I really do like the community there and have made some friends, and I figure in the winter, I’ll go more.
But that’s not the point of this post.
What’s wrong with force?
Isn’t force just big willpower? Lots of trying? It can be… I guess.
I think force comes into positive play when, for example, I’m deep in depression. If I can manage to force myself to do the things I do not want to do, well, it’s really a sign of hope, right? That kind of force shows that my willpower brain isn’t totally broken yet by the depression and that I am going to be able to drag my ass out of it (yet again).
But often force is just a sort of self inflicted violence.
When we work with force in our bodies, we’re definitely (most often) disconnected from our bodies. They’re a thing that we’re trying to change or contort. A lot of times, movement in this context is pure punishment.
This creates a toxic internal environment on the chemical level.
When we approach change from this kind of force, we’re stressing the nervous system, releasing cortisol, and keeping the body in a dysregulated state.
Change will not come in this state.
Your body is going to work against you, mistaking you for the enemy. Or not mistaking you… because when you’re treating yourself like this, you actually kinda are the enemy.
So what about joyful challenge?
The body knows the difference. Period. Your state of mind is different and so you’re more likely to create the joyful chemical stew in the brain that your body needs for healthy change.
If you approach your movement from a place of play and curiosity and experimentation, you are not working from punishment.
This is the state that regulates the nervous system. It’s from this state, that you’re clear on your motivations and they’re of the healthy variety.
When I’m working with force, my motivations are definitely aesthetic. That’s poison for me.
When I’m working from joy, my motivations are all about my mental health. That is my sweet spot. And most humans’, for that matter.
When we work from joy, compassion, and care, we’re not not challenging ourselves. It just is healthy challenge. It’s sustainable challenge.
The results
Since I’ve recalibrated my movement practices back to joyful and devoted, I already have noticed the kinds of changes I really need:
I have more energy, of course. Because I’m not killing myself in the name of, again, aesthetics.
I am getting stronger and more balanced by the day because I have more energy to work harder when I am working. I’m not just dragging myself through my practices and hoping for the end.
I am happier. This is the big one. This is why I do the work I do — for myself and for others. It’s always been about mental health for me.
I’ve worked really hard to overcome disordered eating and body hatred from my youth but they can still pop up. It takes constant vigilance, and even then, it can be so easy to slip back into old habits.
We teach what we need. I learn that over and over and over.