The Science of Single

[I made some bold promises last week and I'm here to make good on them. Behold, a blog post about trapeze, flying, dating, timing, love, the hairy eyeballs of judgment and criticism, pink monkeys and group therapy. Drum roll please...]

Timing is everything in trapeze. Otherwise, you’re barely skimming fingers when you should be locking arms and flying through the air weightless like a cloud instead of your ass is dropping in the net. In trapeze class, you have to do everything the instructor says exactly when she says it—not so simple when you’re staring down a bed of concrete more than 20 feet below. (I trimmed my false start from the video. Oh, the magic of iMovie.) Trust is the other part of the equation. My instructors were so supportive and encouraging, I probably would have leaped without a net. Of course, timing and trust make me think of dating and relationships. Especially timing, which is something I’ve been pondering quite a bit lately. (I’ve also been ruminating over patterns, too, though I will save that for another post.) I used to believe timing was everything. The only thing. A friend reminded me the other day over lunch of more pumpkin-mash delight from my Merlindia boyfriends (who will hopefully ask me to join their 2015 circus with my developing trapeze act) that, just as important as good timing—because really, when is there ever a situation when two people are in the same exact place in life?—is finding someone who is willing to work out the kinks with me. To sand down the edges so the square peg eventually fits in the round hole.

I liked that because it puts some of the control back in my court. Despite how it may feel sometimes, I’m not completely at the mercy of timing, whether it be bad, off or in a different zone.

There are two other things I loved about trapeze. One: I actually enjoyed the process. Normally, I resist the process of anything. I just want to be done, to know the results, to be in love and be loved back, and to not have to drift in the tides of uncertainty that is life and dating.  Two: I am good at trapeze. The video above, taken by Shira’s boyfriend Chris (thanks by the way), was my second flight. By the end of the class, I’d mastered the beginner techniques and I was able to make a catch, which involves swinging upside down to someone else who is also swinging upside down, locking arms and letting go. Swinging from the arms of someone else was … freeing, especially  because it gave me something to put at the top of my list of things I like about myself. I’m good at trapeze. I like that.

The list was homework after last week’s group therapy, during which my therapist told me I was being awfully judgmental of others. She was right. Why, she wanted to know. Because I feel insecure, I told her. Self criticism leads to casting the hairy eyeball of judgment upon the innocent. Judging is a defense mechanism and keeps us from getting close to people. So a list of things I like about myself is the answer to stop this silly cycle. I didn’t make the list. Instead, I went to a trapeze lesson. But it gave me something to start with. I will write the rest of the list (closed to the general public) when I’m done with this post.

And now for the pink monkey, to tie it all together.

[Music in video is "Blue Turning Grey" by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah if anyone cares and/or copyright people get their panties in a bundle because who the hell knows how music on home videos published to a blog works.]

Meow.

I thought we had a thing, John. I really did. But I had to find out this from them.  I survived when he got his wife knocked up and he became a douche bag (and if you caught one of the two episodes of his VH1 talk show, you know he wasn’t a DB before. He’s funny. Or at least he’s funnier than his songs are good.) No really, I’m happy for you. I think you will be happy. Just not as happy as you would have been had you waited for me. Just sayin’.