indoors, sorting through old things, reading, writing, thinking. My ponderings
become kaleidoscopic, everything relates to everything. Where does one idea
begin and another end?
It was my first day working in a gym, as an actual paid employee. It’s a memory
not so much of an event, as of an emotional state, a feeling of confidence, of
“click”. I had spent the previous year in school yet again, studying
health psychology, anatomy and physiology, exercise science, exercise program
design. I had done an internship at a gym. I felt overwhelmed by how much
information I had absorbed. With these thousands of data points in my head, how
would I choose what to say, what to do in the moment? What was the process, the
My very first client. I found myself acting almost automatically
– like auto-pilot, like that first balanced moment of riding a bicycle, like
answering a question in a foreign language before you even notice that it’s not
your mother tongue, like dancing the steps without realizing you’ve begun to
dance. It just came to me, like each sentence, each movement was a bubble
bursting through the water, having risen up from the depths of the well on its
Sometimes people call it intuition, but I don’t think it is.
I get that sometimes, too, but it’s a different thing. What I’m talking about
here is that sinking in, that confidence that the thing will come, that the
well is deep enough. I go back to that one moment at the gym and remind myself
of how it feels sometimes. When I look at my schedule and see that someone has
booked me for a 30 minute head and face massage and I feel a moment of panic.
“30 minutes of face and head? Can I do that?” I remember that
feeling. It will come. It’s in you. If you relax, it will float to the surface.