“Don’t be scared of failure: learn from it and try again.” — Anonymous
Yesterday, I was telling someone about my handstanding fall/injury and they said, “You’ll have to find a new name for Handstanding Grandma now that you’re not doing handstands anymore.” This matter-of-fact statement was puzzling to me at first. Did they really think I’d let a little thing like stitches stop me from doing handstands? Were they completely unaware of my determination to accomplish this goal? Am I supposed to change my blog to “Grandma Who used to do Handstands”? I think not.
I have to admit, that after my little stitches-in-the-foot incident, I was a bit fearful about doing another handstand. Falling hurts. Getting stitches in the bottom of your foot REALLY hurts. But more than fear, I felt a tremendous lack of confidence and was smarting from a bruised ego. I’ve been walking around telling people that I can do handstand away from the wall (and feeling pretty good while saying it), and then in the blink of an eye, those bragging rights were taken away. At least that’s how I felt.
I can do a handstand away from the wall — just not near dressers. Obviously I still need to work on my kick ups, and, in particular, falling out after kicking up, so I decided the best way to do that while my foot was healing was to go back to the wall. (Yeah, yeah, I probably shouldn’t be doing them at all while my foot is healing, but I am being extremely careful and wearing a thick sock at my husband’s insistence.) But notice I said “go back to the wall” as if I’m going backwards — and at first that’s exactly how I felt. I mean, I’m able to kick up in the middle of the room. I shouldn’t need to do handstands at the wall. I should be advancing — not going back.
It’s not going back though if it’s making me better. And that’s what’s been happening these past two weeks. I’m recording my efforts and then watching for ways to improve (mostly it’s my stupid banana back that causes me to fall forward). I’ve even started lifting my leg rather than flinging it in the air. Dare I say it — my handstand is improving and I’m feeling more confident while doing it. I’m not saying it was good that my injury happened — but I am saying that learning from my injury has actually made me better.