Gravity's edge
Making decisions with curiosity & grace
Notes to young aerialists & creatives alike
I remember 13 as a doorway to bigger questions and decisions. Learning how to make choices that reflect your truest self—and even enjoying the process—is the project of many years. But it’s also an exploration that has the potential to be fun and interesting, which I didn't know until much later. One question that leads me into the mystery now is: What would it be like to blow my own mind? To imagine making such good decisions that I soar way beyond what I currently conceive of as my own limitations and awesomeness? That feels really tantalizing.
Here are some hard-won understandings about making decisions that feel true, with the hope that it might spark something for you or lend you a fresh perspective that makes it easier to navigate decisions with curiosity, daring and grace.
What is a “good decision”?
We place a lot of emphasis on decisions, and their outcomes, while assuming that decisions say a lot about the people who make them. But as I get older, I’m more curious about *how* decisions are made, and I’m wondering if it doesn’t say more about who a person is, and what is important to them, to know *how* they came to make a certain choice. As I get older I also notice that I’m able to live with my “bad” decisions when I know they were aligned with what I understood at the time I made them. What’s still hard to swallow are decisions I *knew* were out of alignment at the time...and yet, of course, it had to be the way it was, because it was.
Decision-making highlights dichotomies, but decisions are rarely binary.
When it’s time to make a decision, the brain likes to draw attention to two distinct solutions—yes or no, stay or go, blue or red. Just like a battery, the poles hold a lot of electricity and magnetism. Sometimes it’s useful to harness that binary power, giving yourself, your choice and voice a super-charge, as when issuing a hard NO. But in facing so many big decisions, it seems there are two distinct roads to take and that both of them are impossible. Yet, with patience and practice, that muddy messiness right there middle can become another (often-overlooked) super-source for generative options.
Some people call the practice of pausing in the middle of the mess “holding tension” for the opposites, while you wait for a third thing—a more perfect solution—because, magically, this third thing does tend to arrive. So you just hold on, with self-compassion, facing the fact that, on the one hand, it seems impossible to say yes, and on the other, it seems impossible to say no, and then you watch and wait for a new solution to appear. “Tension” is a tricky word, because it sounds painful and forced, but it points to the fact that this is an active stance, and not an easy position to maintain. Holding on right in the middle of the mess is an act of strength and courage in itself, and, as an aerialist, I know you know just how to hold tension this way, with grace, ease and gentle focus. (A paradox—holding tension with ease.) The incredible thing is, just by waiting, caring and watching, this third idea—something that you hadn’t thought of yet—has time to arrive, all on its own, from a different part of your brain or body, or maybe beyond it. It’s so exciting when this happens and you’ve had the patience and faith to hold out for thing 3, which is better than you’d imagined. A conclusion that is surprising and inevitable.
Decision making benefits from a little stress, but is derailed by more.
It’s almost impossible to make a good creative decision while burdened with big amounts of stress. I rely on your aerial experience here, too, to demonstrate that there’s an optimal amount of excitement that supports you, coaxing the body into healthy daring, while at higher levels stress can tip you into a fear response. Just a bit of stress excites the brain and body, recruiting new ideas and perspectives. You struggle just a little—with a math problem or learning anything new—and it draws attention to the problem and wakes the brain up. It says, ‘this is important!’ However, when you are very, very stressed, the creativity and flexibility evaporate—the brain pushes you into fight-flight-freeze or fawn mode. You have four decisions. It’s a chemical process at that point. There’s not much you can do to stop it in the moment. This can feel like panic, or like a heavy, heavy tiredness. It’s worthwhile to learn to recognize when you’re *just about* to push yourself too far into stressful-stress, giving yourself time to re-ground your nervous system. If the stress doesn’t release, then making a decision that feels closer to your center of gravity is a good solution, see below.
Good decisions resonate with your center of gravity.
I like to explore the body-felt sensation of a good decision by starting really small, like when choosing the just-right thing for breakfast. What’s it like to choose well? Does it have a quality or gesture? Is there a place in your body where you feel it most? Then you can learn more about what it feels like when you stretch, making a decision that takes you just outside of your center. Can you envision how far out from your center of gravity that choice lies? Like saying the hard-but-true thing to a friend? Healthy decisions have a feeling of coming from your center, even when they tug at your balance. Decisions that are out of alignment tend to feel so far away from center that they tip you over. As an aerialist, you’ll understand there’s a perfect edge, a place where you feel excited about extending your center, and your possibilities. The reality, however, is that you’ve built up the capacity and the core strength to do this new trick over time. When the ‘right’ decision pulls you just a little outside of what you’re used to, and you have the capacity for it, it’s growth.
When you are drawn to possibilities that are way outside of your center of gravity, it’s good to examine what’s pulling you, and why? For example, when I feel into a choice that would make someone else happy, but not me, the position feels very far outside of myself, way over there, and it leaves me leaning forward, feeling empty in the center of my chest, and sad. When I feel into a decision that is way outside of my center but still very exciting to me, I wonder about the smaller steps—the nearer places—I can explore while strengthening myself for a larger reach, like building up your core for a new trick.
At the same time, when I feel into a choice that is just for me, but might hurt someone else, it can feel deeply buried inside me, curled up, shoulders rounded over—and afraid, like a bunny hiding. It’s a little dense and claustrophobic. When I think about a choice that is slightly scary, but also exciting, like hanging out with someone new, the position feels outside of my direct center, but not so far that it tips me off-balance, it has a little lift to it, in the center of my chest, and it makes me smile and widens my eyes. I actually find it fun to discern all these gradients of decision positions!
The privilege of choice.
Only If it it’s supportive, and not a burden, touching into the luck and wonder of having the opportunity to face choices, as hard as it is, can carve out new room for decision making. When I feel stuck, I like to pull back into a bird’s-eye perspective, remembering that not everyone has the opportunity to make choices, and that for most people throughout most of history decisions were smaller and more rare, and sometimes even harder, with much more serious consequences. I can recall, if it’s helpful, that my ancestors worked diligently for me to have the decisions to make, and that I’m part of a bigger timeline. I’m making choices about things that most humans have never considered before. No wonder it’s hard.
Curiosity is gold.
Out of all the possible responses to big questions and big challenges, and one that does seem to help generate great outcomes, I rely on curiosity. Curiosity has a humble and kind expression, but can also be persistent, playful and run just far enough ahead to help you stay engaged when the stakes are higher. Noticing and enjoying when you are curious, noticing how curiosity supports you and how it flows through your body are all good areas to explore. What makes you feel not curious? What stops the flow of curiosity? And how do you restore it? ( I’ll note that many people are able to restore their curiosity simply by walking outside without a phone—simple, free and easy!) Getting familiar with the body-felt sense of curiosity—just getting curious about curiosity—is a cool way to expand your capacity to follow its lead. You may notice that it is easier to flow curiosity into “good” decisions than those that are less good for you. The things you are curious about matter. The things you are curious about *now* matter later. And how curiosity shines a light down new pathways, revealing your growing edge and showing you more of you, can help you grow with more ease.
Please reach out if you experiment with any of these decision making tools this week. As always, I love to hear from you…
As always, elegant and poignant-- very very helpful in a current situation but I will see which percolate into reality.
Thank you!