Last week, I took the Level 2 ADAPT coaching course for Parkour. The six other participants and I sweated through 100-degree temperatures, took chances, sometimes failed, and learned a great deal from one another.
You might imagine that I experienced a small existential crisis, being the oldest participant, and feeling slightly skill-deficient compared to the others.
It’s that “compared to others” statement that stopped me in my tracks while driving in one morning. I asked myself…
Could I compare my experience to someone who has been doing Parkour for 10+ years and/or was younger than me?
Do I have unique strengths that contribute to my success as a coach?
Why was I even taking this course in the first place?
Here is what I learned…
First, I have been doing Parkour for almost 5 years. It is an activity I began when I was over 50 years old. It is completely unfair to compare myself to others. In this case, they were younger than I or had been doing Parkour for 10+ years.
I acknowledged that my experience allows me to stand in front of large audiences and deliver workshops. In addition, my eye for movement quality has been honed in the countless movement classes for musicians I have led and in the gym space as a personal trainer. These skills are a unique perspective in my coaching.
I decided to take this course because it would challenge my skills as a mover and coach. I seek to grow in new ways so that I can perform my work more effectively, more beautifully, and meet the needs of those with whom I work.
These answers allowed me to show up fully as myself and maximize my learning potential. In the end, I played to my strengths and received valuable feedback that not only affirmed my strengths but made me aware of blind spots. I didn’t doubt the feedback because I knew deep down it was true, both the positive and the less positive.
A similar reflection can be applied to one’s approach to music-making. Getting out of comparison, stepping into the reality of why we show up, and why we make music.
The shift I experienced required honest self-reflection, some support from friends (you know who you are), and contributed to exponential growth as a coach, musician, and person. I am grateful for the new friendships and the priceless fun. Despite this, I did experience fear as I led, presented challenges, was vulnerable, and was willing to fall short of expectations. The fear was the gateway to growth.
I hope this inspires you to reflect and take new chances. Who knows what is on the other side of fear?
Be curious…
P.S. Here is a jump I broke