A few weeks ago, for the first time in five years, I worked with clients in-person. A couple tribers made the pilgrimage individually to Denver. We trained at various outdoor spots at the base of the Rockies, and it went better than I could have expected.

This was also the first time since having taken Weightlessness remote, that I got to see / assess the skills of a Weightlessness trainee after a year of solo, remote practice. And they didn’t disappoint.

One of whom was Lindsay.

There’s a lot that could be said about her focus, skill, and commitment. But instead, I’m going to talk about me. Lol.

…And how blind I can be at times.

For a week we worked on high level skills - somatic experiencing, the relationship between stress and sensitivity in real time, and the extension of W principles into he world beyond. Already at a high level herself, she didn’t need much help with concepting or technical development, our time was really more focused on subtle shifts in attention through a variety of simulations.

On our last day she hiked a mountain with a 20lb weight vest, focusing the whole way on three somatic cues for connection (embodied presence) and the release of tension (resistance) - the ankles, the breath, and her alignment / structure. She climbed the mountain without speaking, and without breathing through her mouth.

And by the time we reached the top she'd had an hour of conscious attention well applied, and active relinquishing of wants, control, and physical tension.

After removing her vest and a bit more training, we sat and did a postmortem for the week, landing insights and uncovering dead bodies (metaphorically speaking… Weightlessness Training doesn’t yet include digging up dead bodies, but never say never).

At which time, I gave her a book. A book with red stain and coffee colored, wrinkled edges, because yours truly was clever enough not to firmly secure a coffee lid in the bag.

I felt pretty crummy initially… I’d damaged it.

Without skipping a beat, Lindsay said something like, “I don’t need things like this to be perfect. I like them to carry imperfections and character that remind me of an experience.” She said it more eloquently, certainly, but it was something along those lines.

And with that well-timed lesson, the student became the teacher… I realized I was leading with bias and expectation where she had none.

My mind softened. And I looked at the stains on the book in a new light.

One red, from a sash that bled from spilt coffee.
The sash - sensitivity.

The other stain, brown, from coffee itself.
Coffee - concentration.

What better reminders could be stamped onto the very pages of book about freedom and performance? And I’d nearly overlooked them… wishing for perfection.

And to add insult to irony, in addition to us spending a week on nonattachment in real time, and the skill of relaxation amidst high stress engagements, I have a tattoo on my back that symbolizes that very lesson - perfection in imperfection.

We never arrive, people. The craft of Weightlessness is one of constant failure. But if practiced properly, failing upwards.

There is no arrival. But the journey gets easier, becomes more colorful and nuanced, and perhaps even becomes an end in itself.

We will always struggle when we strive. But sometimes those quaint little moments that show you you’re forever at the beginning of the circle, rather than triggering disappointment, usher in a smile.

Thanks for the lesson, Lindsay!

Be weightless, Tribe,

Tom

The Weightlessness Process | 12-Week Mind-Body Coaching Program