The view is breathtaking: valleys, rivers, and luminous sky. I stand in awe of the heights I’ve climbed, while gazing, inspired, at the mountains still waiting to be scaled. Below me a landscape of new friends, new skills, and blissful memories unfurl like a tapestry.
But I’d rather be somewhere else. Almost anywhere else.
I stand, grateful but impatient, on a hooping plateau.
You’ve probably reached one or will reach one some day. It’s the place in your hooping journey where everything seems a little stale. You’re comfortable with your skill-set and flow…too comfortable. Maybe it’s been a while since you’ve learned something new, and you worry you’ve reached the limits of your dance. Maybe you’ve poured your energy into the hooping community, and you feel burned out. Whatever path you’ve followed, you know you’re on a hooping plateau because all the birds are singing, “Same old. Nothing new. Same old hoola hoop.” It’s not a danceable tune.
The tricky thing about my hooping plateau is that nothing has really changed. I’m still part of a fantastic community. The crowd still crows when I bust out a pizza toss from my knees. I still adore the murmur of flames before I launch my fire hoop into motion. Nothing external exiles a hooper to a dreary plateau. It’s internal. It’s a state of mind.
|Solanaceae surveys the hoop-scape.|
Hooping plateaus are part of the natural ebb and flow of a dynamic hoop journey. They acknowledge accomplishment and skill. After all, I’ve worked long and hard to build the plateau’s foundation. They also promise change…if I persevere. They’re a resting space before plunging into the mountains of possibility. Like the proverbial calm before the storm, they signal a lull before a flood of new energy, inspiration, and flow.
So enjoy the view, hoop-friends. Set your hoop in the sand and meditate. Take inventory. Write a hymn in honor of the circle. Be patient, because the journey never ends.