Qualifying Our Steps.

I have always been a numbers person. I recall that (at least since age three, when I was able to formulate memories), I have never ceased counting almost everything around me. Numbers have always given me a sense of security, as in the knowledge of quantity is safety, certainty, and knowledge. Knowledge helps me to feel a beautiful sense of control, whereby quantifiable sources of evidence – calendars, clocks, timeframes, statistics, empirical data – aid me in creating a semblance of mastery over myself and my environs. I recognize these sources are man-made and thereby chronological as opposed to kairological, which, as I learned in my 220-hour yoga teacher training course, is the more “gut-sense, go with the flow response to life,” but nonetheless, quantity has been my language of choice.

Recently, I have felt an inner calling to create some divine shifts in my life. One of these has involved the desire to surrender the desire to control myself and everything around me as well as the yearning to flow more spontaneously and smoothly through the ebbs and flows of life, true to the Taoist traditions that I claim to abide by. Letting go is scary. Not to live so numerically is a frightening thought, but in theory it has been a goal.

Last weekend, my niece visited from New York, where next weekend she will be delivering the Salutatory Address to her high school graduating class. I swell with pride, as I myself, back in 1995, delivered the Salutatory speech to my own classmates, and I took deep interest in my niece’s topic of choice for her speech. With stellar confidence and no lack of certainty, she stated, “I am going to speak about the fact that numbers don’t define us. I am Salutatorian because of a series of numbers that were my subjective grades that put me into this role, but that doesn’t make me who I am; and no one’s GPAs have anything to do with their personal paths in life.” I was speechless. So overused, but, “literally.” I can recall the exact AP Physics exam, my grade on which shifted me from contender for Valedictorian into my Salutatory position, as well as my resentment over those numbers that betrayed me. Over the past 23 years, I can say with certainty that that exam, my GPA, and my class rank, have meant close to nothing. Zero. My sense of self has derived nothing from these, as I have evolved into a middle-aged woman through countless experiences, challenges, victories, and opportunities not just to do but to BE. My niece is wise beyond her 17 years. Perhaps age is really just a…

Four days ago, I lost my FitBit. I am not sure how, as it has been attached to my body since the moment I purchased it and began revolving my diurnal activities around ways in which to meet my Step Goal. For me, this little piece of wearable technology represented yet another way of making life quantifiable, as numbers are just so soothing – more control! I began entering FitBit “competitions” with my friends and feeling envious if their daily steps outnumbered mine. I would take an extra trip upstairs at night just to feel that glorious buzz of hitting my steps if I was every so close by bedtime. I didn’t realize it until the horrifying electronic loss of this week, but I had reached the point where I was no longer listening to my body. I’m not sure I ever fully did, but I sure did much more saliently prior to Bit ownership. Although an avid yogini for 14 years, I ceased attending yoga classes in favor of going to Zumba classes, not only because I truly am in love with dance, but because yoga doesn’t provide a quantity of steps that would meet a directly proportional relationship to the amount of time spent in a class.

In the past four days, I have practiced yoga, because what I don’t know not only doesn’t hurt me, it aids me in getting something that I needed all along but was too numbers-focused to gift myself. I don’t know how many steps I am making any given day, and while this prospect was initially intolerable and terrifying (I probably got close to my Step Goal just looking for the Bit that morning), it has very rapidly become immensely relieving. I love not knowing! I love moving my feet if I feel like it and not if I don’t. When there is nothing to which to “measure up,” there is nothing at which to feel defeated.

I invite you to become a victor in your own life, in every way possible, by evaluating aspects that you may be quantifying and that may be adding more stress to daily activity as opposed to the peace of mind that is the intention of these devices of measurement. I am definitely not anti-FitBit by any means. Numerous people are able to use it as casual, fun motivation and to “shake it off” if goals aren’t met; however, I will never be one of those people. I am on board with that, but I certainly understand myself better through this unplanned experiment. I will never dispense with calendars and clocks (this former New Yorker is pristine with timeliness), but I will use this as an opportunity to clear other modes of self-evaluation that may be adding unnecessary calculation to my life rather than aiding me toward my aforementioned personal goals. The first “step” in Alcoholics Anonymous involves the principle of surrender and the notion of admitting powerlessness. So, there’s one step I’ll take, and it perfectly registers in my heart.

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