Walk-Ins Welcome (But You Should Really Sign Up)

Last night J and I tried to take our first Lindy Hop class. It's something we had talked about since we first were engaged, but last night we earnestly tried to hop and twist and swing our little hearts out. Truth be told, I was really nervous. As in standing in line for the scariest roller coaster nervous. I talked non-stop and had sweaty palms the entire way to the studio- I have no idea how to play it cool.

As we pulled up I said something to the effect of "I hope there's room for walk-ins. They said you could walk in but maybe we should have signed up." -Insert confused look by husband and then he said something like "...oh... I thought you signed us up." Communication is key, y'all. As it turned out, the class had filled up but we were able to visit with a friend (who had pre-registered) while we waited for no-shows. In the end we didn't make it through the studio doors and as we walked back to our car, and the tinkling jazz music faded away, I realized I was extremely disappointed. Not only because I let J down, but because I had let my fear of being new at something hinder me from trying it. I was so afraid at flailing (and failing) in front of strangers that I subconsciously got in my own way.

It's so easy to just walk-in to something- a yoga class, a nail or hair appointment, your own future- rather than committing to a date and signing up ahead of time... and showing up. Walk-ins allow us all to blame not making it on something else, rather than on ourselves. If we would have made it to that class, things would have been different. Well- I made the choice not to sign up, so the outcome is still on me.

In a little over a month I'll be going to Texas Style Council 2015. And yes, I've already signed up. The intention this year is to create a meaningful presence- focusing on story telling and stripping away the "stuff" we think we need to matter. We'll be bunking in cabins, unplugging for a weekend, and getting real with the stories that we want to tell. Come with me

I'm almost as nervous as I was last night, going to class. Okay, fine, I'm a little more nervous! But I realize that's how I know I'm on the right track, especially after last night. This fear of failure, mixed with giddiness is a pretty good indication that I'm on to something good. 

J and I are signed up for next week's class AND a crash-course on the 21st. And yes, my palms were sweating as I registered. However, I'd rather have sweaty palms than let J and myself down.  Is there anything you really want to do, but are afraid to try?