Throwing Axes
It’s been a few weeks since my last post. In all honesty, I was dealing with some rather significant anxiety, self-induced, as most anxiety is. The rational and irrational parts of my brain fought a drag down fight to the death and tore my body down with it. At the center of the fight was the responsibility I feel if I happen to choose wrong, especially when it comes to health of my children. I catastrophize, even the simplest things. What if I make a mistake and some tragedy should descend? I know this is not healthy and my body really can’t take it much longer.
In taking the leap and trusting my child would be safe on what would likely be the trip of her life (and spoiler alert, it was and she was completely safe the whole time) I learned that she’s showing me how to create my own safety. It’s funny how the parent child roles are often reversed if we’re smart enough to pay attention. Both of my daughters show me repeatedly what it means to be brave. I know that the best way to deal with fear is to go right toward it and do the things that scare me the most.
So, in an effort to turn my focus on ways I can feel powerful, rather than cower at the hand of imagined catastrophe, I went axe throwing with my husband and brother. Maybe that’s not the most adventurous to some, but it was a good start for me. We went to Wicked Axe in Haverhill. It’s a big open building with high ceilings and exposed ductwork. Virtual golf and dart boards line one side wall and the axe throwing bays line the other. While I checked in, I watched a group learning to throw, axes clinking to the ground; the timing not quite right to sink the blade into the target drawn into big slabs of wood. The axes banged off the metal fencing and bounced onto the green turf on the floor, but they didn’t come near the people throwing which was reassuring.
We got all checked in and made our way to our axe throwing coach. A lovely woman named Jennifer in a plaid shirt and purple hair. This lady is my idol. She is everything my teenage self looked up to. Kick ass hair with cool calm that has won her the top spot in her league. She is so patient with all of us and adjusts our throwing stances and positions many times to get us just right. We practice a few times and then it’s on to the games, competing against each other. My husband was a college athlete who played basketball regularly well into his 40’s and my brother is pretty much good at everything he does so I was of course intimidated. But as we threw, I noticed that my blades were sinking into the wood more and more and I found a calm rhythm as I timed my throws. Lift the axe over my head, breathe in, then lean forward and breathe out while I release the smooth wooden handle and thunk, in went the axe. It was thrilling and I have to say, I felt rather powerful swinging that blade. I first played my husband and lo and behold, I won. Next it was my brother. Each of these games is three rounds and I couldn’t believe it when I heard Jennifer say, “Molly is out of reach.” I kept my calm, focused on my breath and, whomp, beat my brother too.
My prize for these steely efforts was a fresh Wonder Woman sticker and although it may have been a simple trophy, I was damn proud of my win. I was proud of my realization of connecting my breathing with the throwing. I was proud of staying calm all the way to the end, defeating these two very athletic guys. And I was proud that I did something a little bit scary and not only stayed calm but excelled. When faced with fears, it’s sometimes the smallest wins that can get things back on track.