Better swinging through failure

1-2, 3-4, rock step.

Swing dance. It’s what I’m currently learning.

I’ll admit, I was goaded into this by my lovely wife, Kerrie. I never wanted to learn to dance. I don’t enjoy dancing at weddings. But, as a caring husband and a person in search of new things, I’m taking the task to heart and 1-2-3-4-rockstepping my way to better health.

Realistically, I couldn’t say no. I’m in a renaissance, of sorts. I’m bidding my old fears adieu, taking on experiences that I wouldn’t usually take on. I’m working out. I’m attempting to write short stories, and not just blog entries. I’m learning to swing dance.

When asked yesterday what the one fear I wanted to overcome was, I couldn’t answer. It took me a while, but I thought of it today – a fear of failure. I want everything I do to be inspired and perfect, as if a true master showed up and gave a wonderful demonstration, or if a clutch moment was revered for future lifetimes because of its immense importance. I want everything I do to be Michael Jordan’s final shot in 1998, to be The Catch, to be Kirk Gibson’s walk-off homer in 1988.

But it can’t be. I know I suck at swing dance. Hell, you should see us flopping around out there. In a crowd, however, you’ll never know. Instead, you’ll say, “where did Corey learn to dance?”

Where? The El Riad Shrine Mosque. When? The time I finally let my guard down and forged ahead with something new. Regardless of my ability. Regardless of my feelings.

Not giving a damn about my abilities and dropping my fear of failure? It seems to be as easy as 1-2, 3-4, rockstep.