For most of my childhood, my dad was an avid Aikidoist. I would sometimes go to the dojo with him, and watched as he and other grown ups would roll themselves into incredibly agile little balls and roll in a circle around the room as part of their warm up. It always looked fun to me, but when my parents tried to encourage me to take classes with the other kids, I balked.
Even at the tender age of 7, I was afraid of being bad at something. I had already figured out that I was “bad at gym class” and that I wasn’t good at tumbling, gymnastics, etc. Taking classes at the dojo felt like it was just going to be more of the same gym class stuff that I was already trying to avoid with timely visits to the nurse. Read More My Favorite: Mistakes