posted by Melissa Baumgart
It went off without a hitch. Well, I mean, I didn't get my legs hitched over the trapeze bar...but the party went off without a hitch. Yes, I was disappointed in my less than average flights with everyone watching. But I had a better time than I thought I would. It sure was fun to see my friends facing their fears, meeting their hidden circus talents, being super excited and filled with adrenaline, and choosing to climb that ladder again and again. (BTW...random videos are embedded throughout the post! Beware!)
Here is me, almost getting to the knee hang at the party!
Some quotes I heard throughout the night and notes I received after are:
"Thanks for inviting me to feel so alive!"
"Thank you, Good Luck With That!" (this was pure sarcasm, and the kind that is meant to hide the fact that you really mean every word of it)
"Trapeeeeeze!!!" (a text from Lily on her way home from school)
And here is Lily in flight:
"That was terrifying...and nice." (from our youngest flier) "I may do a second try." (and he did!)
"We are the dreamers!!!" (Said with both hands raised in the air, and I still do not know what they were talking about.)
"I really appreciated the opportunity to feel full of my terror of heights, and to actually do it anyways! It was really fun as well to see all the nimble acrobats hidden inside the average person emerge and take off!
Viva the magic in the average person!!"
"I didn't think it would be scary, but I almost cried up there. I was like not able to grab that bar. It is so heavy."
And now, a long time reader, and many times a commenter, my dear friend Matt getting caught!
And as always, so many cheers from everyone watching, no matter what your feat. Just jumping and swinging would elicit hoots and hollers from everyone present. And forget about it, if you managed the knee hang, wow! People go crazy!
Nearly all the first timers faced some fears. And even if they said they weren't afraid up there, I think their faces said differently. Somehow what I read as facing a tiny bit of fear (you know, healthy, adrenaline producing fear) registered as "I was very focused" to one of my fellow fliers. But it is true, while some eagerly anticipate their turn, other people really are feeling a lot more fear up there than others.
Being someone that had been there, dreading and regretting being at the top on the platform, I felt a kinship with those that truly looked faint-hearted. And yet, I have to say, I was thinking that they should just do it. Just do it and move through that despair. I was standing, not only protected by the ground on which my feet were planted, but also from a perspective of knowing how safe this really was.
It made me all the more thankful for Kelly's (the woman at the top, holding our safety belts and talking us down from panic) compassionate nature. Here is someone to whom trapeze is second nature, and she is able to be gentle and caring to those of us facing our first jump. Facing perhaps one of our greatest fears we hold as truth. And then, with her tender voice and reassurance, jumping into a new person. Becoming more than we thought we could be standing safely on the ground.
And what's more? My darling Lily is signing up for trapeze classes! She hopes to soon be invited into the Junior Fliers Troupe at SANCA. So, you never know, maybe being inspired to choose trapeze was simply a mother's intuition. More on that to come....
posted by Melissa Baumgart
I have been busy trying to organize a Flying Trapeze Party. Can you believe it? I am going to do this again! I am going to climb that ladder and jump off the platform again! And this time it will be with a bunch of our friends. After my experience, I really wanted to share it with everyone.
I am nervous to do it again, of course. But I am also excited. I am looking forward to "hopping" off the platform without bending my knees. I am looking forward to keeping my toes pointed and legs together and actually getting my knees up onto the bar so I can hang upside down. And getting to see a bunch of my friends try their hand at the trick too!
Perhaps I am working through this fear of heights thing. I guess we'll see next time I face that ladder and the tiny platform with no railing. I wonder if I will have that familiar tension throughout my body, that urge to cry and wish myself away from where I am. Or, if I will feel that tension release a little and feel a bit of joy swell in my chest instead of dread sinking down.
I may have a couple of chances to find out. Here's what we have lined up...
Upcoming aerial and trapeze happenings:
Friday, 11/25: Beginner Aerial Class at Emerald City Trapeze.
I will learn more on silks, and hopefully be able to climb a few feet up the silk. I have been going to yoga almost everyday, in the hopes that my strength will be increased before class. I will also get to try tricks on the static trapeze, the hoop, and the rope.
Saturday, 11/26: Flying Trapeze at SANCA.
I am not sure if it will be me or Lily joining Jamie, Amy and her husband, Bob, in class that day. I want to do it again, but I also want Lily to give it a try (before she has to do it in front of our friends.) I am just nervous that she will chicken out. I wonder if she does, if I can take her place...
Tuesday, 11/29: Flying Trapeze Party at SANCA!!!
Like I mentioned above...so, even if I don't get to fly on Saturday, I'll get to go again on Tuesday. Me, Jamie, Lily and Levi will all get to give it a go. Unfortunately, Tallulah is too young. She'll get to watch everyone, which I am sure will be very entertaining for her!
The only thing we didn't try that I was thinking about was aerial yoga. Maybe I can squeeze it in somewhere. Maybe.
I am afraid of heights. I don't know when it started. I don't remember this fear when I was younger. I recall photos taken of me on top of the Twin Towers in the 1970's, right up near the edge, NYC stretching out behind me. I remember climbing playground equipment all the way up to the top. I used to love walking across the old suspension bridge that crossed the Ohio River, only 5 minutes from my house in Bridgeport, OH. I remember looking down and how could see right through the metal grate beneath your feet to the cold water far below.
Then in college, in my early twenties, I grew to have a fear of dying. Period. Not in relation to anything in particular, just a general fear of death. It ranged from thinking a strange smell was a poisonous gas in the air to being convinced the ceiling of my house was going to certainly fall down on me in the night as I slept. Looking back, it makes no sense to me now. But it was very real at the time. Never once do I remember my fear being in relation to heights.
I grew out of that stage of near constant panic attacks and have been fairly anxiety free for the rest of my adult life. Or so I thought. Maybe I just created a life where I didn't have to face things I was afraid of. Thinking back a few summers, I remember a feeling of dread due to the steepness of a hill I was attempting to hike down. The other five women I was with were joyfully trodding down their own paths through the knee high grass, while I cried my way very slowly down the hillside.
"Don't you feel better know that you did it!" my friend offered, in a you-faced-your-fears tone of voice.
"No. I still hate it." I replied, bluntly and with the intent to imply I had no desire to continue the conversation. Everyone was silent.
Since then there have been drives in the backcountry that scare the shit out of me, as we drive on a road with only a 3 foot high guardrail and 2 feet of gravel between me and the steep cliff that would surely result in death for all. There was the hiking trip in August, who could forget that trauma? Even walking up flights of stairs, I get dizzy and feel like my legs are going to turn to jello.
Regardless of where it came from, this fear of heights has manifested in me without my liking it in the very least. I find it embarrassing, and not an honest representation of who I feel like I am. On the occasions when it pops up, I deal with it and then walk away hating everything about it. I hate that I have it, I hate that I had to face it, and I hate having to be coddled and taken care of like a child.
So far, that has got me nowhere. In a way, I am facing the fear because there it is in front of me, but my body and mind are resisting every bit of it. And so it lives, unwelcome and inconvenient, to say the least.
Yesterday, I was anxious all day about our evening class at SANCA on the flying trapeze. I paced. I barked and quipped at my kids and husband for hours beforehand. When we arrived at the enormous white tent where I would face this rogue fear named height, I was trembling and smiling. Sometimes I smile, uncomfortably, when I am afraid. But, still, I was prepared to do this. I was going to get myself up there and swing on the trapeze and then drop softly to the net.
I made it to the top of the ladder!
Then everything in my false foundation of facing my fears was rocked to the core. It was announced that we would be doing a trick! Hanging from our knees upside down, hands-free, and then doing a backflip off of the trapeze. You have got to be kidding me! And to top it off, everyone else seemed OK with this. It was all I could do to keep my face from breaking into that ugly crying face that we all have our own version of. And mine is bad. Real bad.
When we practiced on the stationary trapeze close to the ground, with the help of an instructor, I was the only one that couldn't get my legs up to the bar to do the knee hang. Great, not only was I the only one deathly afraid and likely to cry if I ever got to the top, I was also the only one not fit or skinny enough to get my flipping legs up through my arms and onto the trapeze bar. Shit. This was not looking good.
As I waited my turn to climb up the 23 foot metal ladder, I took on a stance that resembled a person in prayer. I don't pray, but maybe somewhere inside I was searching for something to hold onto besides the cold metal rungs with my clammy, wet hands. I ascended the ladder, sans safety rope, and near the top my eyes met Kelly's. She was the instructor at the top, on the platform from which we were to "hop" off. She was understanding and gentle and reminded me to stop and take a breath. Sage advice.
The Back Flip!!!!!
There I was at the top grasping onto anything I could. Breathing. I was barely keeping my cool, my face was quickly twitching back and forth between the forced fake smile and an alternate face of anguish and regret. My legs were wobbling beneath me and when I finally caught the trapeze bar that Kelly tossed back to me with her long metal hook, I thought I would fall off the platform from the weight of it. I didn't. Nor did I fall when she instructed me to take my left hand off the secure metal pole it was clenching and out onto the trapeze bar as well. Kelly, somehow, tiny as she was, miraculously held me from falling by holding onto the back of my safety belt.
"Ready" she commanded.
I bent my shaking knees.
"Hop" she commanded.
And I did it. I jumped, somewhat awkwardly, and not at all like we were instructed. But nevertheless, I jumped. My hands held tight to the bar as I swung out and higher than I ever thought I could swing. In my memory, I let out a little shriek of relief and joy. Joy? (Wow, I can't believe I just typed that word.)
I never got my feet up to hang upside down, but I didn't care. I held so tight, in fact, that when it came time to let go and do the back flip, I couldn't let go. I just hung there, and finally dropped slowly (thanks to Spencer, the safety line guy) to the net, feet first, with my hand swept across my forehead in what Amy called a "damsel-in-distress" kind of motion.
And AGAIN!
The second ascent was no less frightening than the first. Well, I did know that Kelly would be there to help me at the end, which was a comfort. "Hi, Melissa" she said when I got near the top, "you're smiling!" I couldn't speak well enough to tell her it wasn't a real smile. But I did manage to tell her I would not try the knee hang this time, I was just going for the back flip. I managed those words through a crackling voice that nearly broke into full blown tears.
And I jumped off the platform again! This time, after Spencer called "Front, back, front" for me to swiftly move my legs...I LET GO! I tucked my legs up toward my chest and I flipped backwards down to the net. It was amazing! I was so proud of myself. Even Spencer's accolades for my attempt were well received by me after that one, after all the others I sorta felt like he "had" to say it. You know, as a teacher and all.
And there you have it. I did something I was so afraid of. I did it four times. The last time I took flight I almost got my legs up for the knee hang. What you can read into that is that I wasn't afraid to try it. HUGE. I feel a little more like I faced my fear, and less like I rolled my eyes at it and walked away.
Here's the video of my flight ending with the back flip:
Note to reader: Video of my very first flight is at the top. Scroll down for the video of my last flight: incomplete knees up, hands off, catch.
What's the Big Deal?
Last night Melissa and I headed to SANCA, the School of Acrobatics and New Circus Arts, for our first ever flying trapeze lesson. About an hour before class Melissa texted me something abut pacing, checking Facebook obsessively, and being really nervous. I casually replied that I was blissfully unconcerned by the fact we were going to shortly jump off a platform and hang from a bar some feet in the air. I wasn't nervous because I thought it was a joke. There was no way that I'd be able to hang on for even one swing. And that's all we'd be doing anyway, is jumping off the platform. Flying on the trapeze and doing tricks seemed totally absurd. So what's there to be nervous about? I was just watching old episodes of Gossip Girl and making Chicken Mulagatawny--a recipe Melissa handed to me.
Me taking off.
Melissa and I arrived to SANCA in Georgetown (an industrial neighborhood in South Seattle). We saw a large and brightly light tent. "That's got to be where the flying trapeze is." Dear God it was outside! We went into the front office, which is a separate building. There were two gyms with aerial silks and ropes. I saw a balance beam, hula hoops, brightly colored jump ropes, harnesses with people hanging from the ceiling doing back-flips There were people of all ages there too. It seemed fun, less intimidating than a gymnastics-style gym. But, intimidating enough!
I Thought She Was Joking
We walked out to the tent. There were five total beginners. Three students had taken more than one class. We were separated into the appropriate groups Our instructor, Orville, led us through some warm ups on the ground (it was freezing in the tent). Then Kelly, a very petite woman, told us what we'd execute today on the bar. She said we'd start with a trick "because I think you can all do it." [Insert hysterical laughter].
Trying to keep my heels back. They say to do that.
She proceeded to describe the trick, which was swinging out, turning upside down by putting our knees over the bar, LETTING GO OF THE BAR WHILE UPSIDE DOWN, turning back to our starting position, and dismounting with a series of back-flips onto the net.
Then she continued the little charade by walking us through each step: how to grab the bar from the platform; how to jump off the platform; and how to move our bodies while in the air. Too funny. I almost asked when class was going to begin because surely she wasn't talking to me. I cannot hang upside down from a bar and let go of my hands. I've never done that. I don't even think I did that in kindergarten--you know that magical time when you're super short and flexible and monkey bars seem really fun. I slowly started to realize the instructor was not joking.
Not quite sure how I'm doing this. But it felt easier than I thought it would be.
Some Like It Closer to the Ground
My fears about flying trapeze stem from an old Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis flick called Trapeze. I watched it when I was little (my parents were big into us watching old movies). There's a fall involved. So, I'm mostly scared of a technical malfunction with the net and breaking my back, or strangling myself in some of the rigging. I have a fear of heights in the sense that my blood races a little when I'm higher. I feel a bit dizzy. I don't like to smile much. But I've always been able to overcome these challenges.
My friend Melissa however, has a more genuine fear of heights. I've witnessed it. This is the kind of fear that can turn a person into weeping stone. You may recall thatMelissa cried on our hike up to Lake Caroline during hiking/backpacking month. Now, she needed to climb a ladder 23 feet in the air, jump off a platform, swing out, and let go. Would she do it?
Broken Safety Line
To get up to the platform--which floats 23 feet in the air--you have to climb a very tall ladder. It's a painter's ladder. A harness is fastened above your hips and below your ribs. It's cinched so tight you can barely breathe, but your posture is great.
Once the student before you jumps off the ladder you ascend.But before you climb you hook yourself in to the safety line. This will stop your fall in the event that you slip off the ladder.
Just as the first beginner student approached the stairway to heaven the gear box to the ladder safety line broke. The instructors tried to fix it and then decided to move on. We would climb the ladder without a safety. I could see that the instructors thought it was a bit shady. We went forward. I thought for a second that Melissa might not climb the ladder. Okay it was more than a second. That's all she has to do. Once you're up the only way they let you down is by jumping off the platform and falling into the net.
I started to get nervous.
Next in Line: You
Stairway to heaven.
Kelly reminded me of the positions: grab the stable wire by the left of the ear with your left hand, step to the edge of the platform so that your toes are hanging off, widen your stance beyond hip width, lean your hips over the platform, reach for the bar with your right hand extended at eye level, move your left hand to the bar, "READY" bend your knees "HOP" jump off the platform, straighten your legs and keep your heels together. Wow. I was on the bar in the air, I could feel the swing.
Then the command from the safety, "KNEES UP!" I crunched my body and barely got my legs high enough to scramble over the bar. "HANDS OFF." I let go. I'm not falling! "REACH BACK". I correct my posture. "HANDS ON." I grab the bar again. "FORWARD, BACK, FORWARD." I whipped my legs then bend me knees and let go of the bar. I feel suspended in air and then I loose all orientation--I am somersaulting in the air. My eyes are closed. I reach my hands up around my head to instinctively protect it. I'm on the net. APPLAUSE.
So...did Melissa climb the ladder....stay tuned for her story.
