Currently it feels like everything is catching up to me. Earlier this week I spent four days working in a friend’s yard. Now the cuts on my arms and legs are starting to scab over, and the blisters on my hands are forming new skin, but my body is definitely still in shock from all the activity. As if that weren’t enough, I decided to cut out coffee and junk food yesterday. On the one hand, I’m really proud. On the other hand, I’ve already been tempted to self-sabotage with a piece of bread or chocolate cake–oh–fifty-six times today. Also, I’ve wanted to yell at every person I’ve come in contact with.

I’m sure that’s all very normal.

I don’t know exactly where I’m going here. This morning I ate a healthy breakfast, then did yoga for fifteen minutes and meditated for thirty. Getting back into yoga is a slow process. There are days when my body is right there, other days when it’s right there giving me the finger. Today is a finger day. My mood is cranky, my brain is full of fog, and my brain is full of fog. Did I just say that? See–this is what happens when a man is separated from his biscuits and joe. It’s not pretty.

In all my years of teaching dance, I’ve only come across a couple “naturals,” intelligent people who picked it up–mentally and physically–super fast. But one of them was X. He learned quickly, practiced often. Conversely, there was Y, a leader who took longer to find the beat than I’m taking to find a husband. In terms of skill, Y was the exact opposite of X. All that being said, X quit taking classes, for whatever reason. Y, however, kept coming. Week after week, he was there. Eventually he found the beat and made wonderful progress. As a teacher, I was proud of Y. Still, I would have loved to see X stick around–he had a lot of talent. What X didn’t have, however, was the interest or perseverance that Y had.

I guess this story is on my mind tonight because I don’t feel like I’m a natural at healthy eating or doing yoga. I feel less like X and more like Y. I’m thirty-seven now, and it might be time to admit that I may never have a six-pack or the flexibility of a junior-high cheerleader. Also, I know I’ve blogged a number of times about starting to eat better over the last six months, and there’s part of me that hates to bring it up again. I’ve obviously fallen off the proverbial sugar wagon here, and the last thing I want to do is become one of “those people” who’s always starting a diet or whatever.

We all know what happened to the boy who cried carbohydrates.

But–even though I’m not a natural–I am interested and do have perseverance, so I’m willing to “try again.” I guess the latest fuss is because a friend is going to take some pictures of me in a couple weeks. I told her I’d like some professional photos to start promoting my business page on Facebook. (If you haven’t liked it, please do so.) Anyway, I know two weeks isn’t enough time to become a Greek god, but it’s at least enough time for my pants to fit. Hey, if this last year has taught me anything, it’s the value of lowering my standards.

Ironically, I’ve been thinking tonight’s blog was about raising your standards. In dance and other endeavors, I’ve seen a lot of people quit. Maybe they get busy or run out of money, maybe it’s harder than they thought it would be. Once my friend Kara told me, “I don’t think we ask enough of ourselves,” and I think she’s right. Recently I had a student say over and over that they were a slow learner, that they couldn’t do any better right here, right now. Tonight in improv class, as part of a skit, I asked a girl to twerk. Ideally, I think she would have at least tried, but she pretty much left character and said, “I can’t. I can’t twerk.” Anyway, more often than not, it seems we argue for our limitations rather than our capabilities, and that’s where I think we could raise our standards.

We could at least try.

In my case, I’ve been raising my standards by telling myself that I can eat better, can do yoga, can get outside my comfort zone and go to an improv class. My therapist and I have been working on my negative thoughts about money, and I know I can do better. I don’t have it all figured out, but I have figured out that just because I believe something doesn’t make it true, so that’s where I’m starting. I’m willing to be wrong (for a change) and let go of old beliefs. Honestly, I think we’re meant for change. I don’t think any of us came to this planet to say, “I can’t” decade after decade and never try anything new.

God, wouldn’t that be boring?

In regards to lowering my standards, I’m learning that “I can do better” doesn’t mean “I have to do perfect.” It’s okay to start, fall down, and start over again. It’s okay to go slow and be bad at something. It’s even okay to let the process exhaust you and turn you into a grouch for a while, since even if you’re interested in and willing to persevere at something new, old habits usually go down swingin’. I guess new skin doesn’t form right away. Rather, the old has to fall off first. This, of course, leaves things raw and rough for a very necessary while, perhaps so we can grow and remember what we’re capable of.