When I signed up for an intro aerial yoga class last weekend, I imagined gentle stretches, maybe a deeper warrior pose supported by the hammock… and most of all, a blissful final resting pose cocooned peacefully in fabric.
The only accurate word in that vision?
Aerial.
What I got was more Cirque du Soleil than restorative yoga—complete with ceiling-mounted fabric, movements that required serious upper body strength, and seven young women (including my daughter) who moved like trapeze artists and had zero fear of flipping upside down and all around.
I, on the other hand, had… reservations.
The class required us to swing, twist, and hang from ceiling-mounted fabric. But the real challenge? Trusting the unknown. At one point, I was supposed to flip myself completely upside down. Backward. And I just couldn’t do it—not right away. I hesitated. Resisted. Overthought it. Tried to keep my legs and hips safely out in front of me where they belong and where I could see them.
Because letting go of control—of gravity, of orientation, of what’s familiar—is hard.
I didn’t trust just throwing myself into the great unknown.
But there was support:
- My daughter, aggressively mouthing “just do it” from across the room.
- A teacher with patient hands and reassuring words.
- My lovely bendy classmates cheering like we were teammates.
Eventually, I reluctantly let go… and flipped. It wasn’t graceful – but it was growth.
That expression isn’t terror; it’s accomplishment. Next time I’m going to let go!
The business parallel wasn’t lost on me.
In uncertain times, we all want to keep our footing. Stay upright. Hold on to what’s in front of us. Lead from a place of control. But sometimes growth requires us to go head over heels. To trust the support structures around us. To let go of what’s in front of us… and move into the unknown.
Progress doesn’t come from remaining in our comfortable orientation. Growth demands we trust the process, the people, and the supports around us. It requires us to let go of what’s familiar, what’s safe, what keeps us upright.
In the studio, I needed a strong anchor, a skillful guide, and a cheering section.
In the workplace, maybe we all do.
So, here’s the question that now permeates my thinking:
What other “upside-down” moves have I been resisting?
How about you?