Thanks Dave for very astute comments.:.)
I feel a little bit like apologising to anyone reading the blog. Yes the blog was never promised to be upbeat but instead a tracing of the process of committing to Parkour and working hard at it. The blog was going to be both a document of that process and a place to reflect. But however necessary it was as part of the process of learning i feel sorry for all the time spent......
moaning!
I think if you love Parkour it can be a potentially complex relationship if you let it be. And yes i do agree that as Dave suggested if the love for it wanes the fears take a stronger grip and the physical resitance to pain, to challenge, to healing grows. But also what I love is also moving in every sense and Parkour comes with a potentially much higher price to pay than dance practise does and so i recognise now that although no one wants, or indeed sets out to tear a ligament or break a bone not only we it stop me doing Parkour but it would stop me dancing which is an incredibly rewarding healing exciting activity that i get to do everyday. The thought of gambling with it, or taking lightly the gift that it is being able to properly rip up space and time through you blood and bones is why i first became hesitant as well.
But i feel im back. Watching the Interview with Stephane Documentary reminded me of my first feelings encountering training. That Parkour was something exceptional, exceptionally beautiful yet exceptionally everyday, something exceptionally hard but yet also simple. Watching that night in Vauxhall its great to see it from the outside, you dont remember the pain only that there was pain! each day not doing it is like forgetting to live that day.
I feel that if i questioned should i do Parkour i didn't commit to it...there should be no question. I see now that i am unlikely at least for now to train in the way the french traceurs seemed to and trying to replicate what i thought that meant didn't really always benefit me. But the principles remain the same strong body strong spirit, an obligation to play, generosity and community, following your own journey.
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I think I'm not alone in saying that I also do not train in the same way as those french teenagers did. Not only are we different physically, but as adults (sort of :.)) we have other responsibilities that teenagers do not. We have more responsibilities in our lives and although this reduces our freedom I think it is an essential, and desirable, part of life.
But to return to what seems to be the main topic, what I wonder now, after re-reading your first posts again, is how any of this affects a person's committment to things outside of parkour.
Thinking back through my own experience, I think that the ability to commit was something that developed in all parts of my life at the same time. After thinking about what I wrote and your response, I have started to wonder whether love for parkour is at all separate from a person's love for life itself. Maybe it's not just a person's love for any one thing in particular that affects their ability to commit, but also how much love they have for other things, how much love they have in their life as a whole?
To look at things from the opposite side, maybe when there is a lot of uncertainty or fear in one part of your life a bit of that fear creeps into everything that you do. Is fear in parkour movements a direct translation of fear in other areas, rather than just a metaphor?
If parkour is really so connected to life (as I think it is, and should be), it would seem only natural for what happens in one to reflect what happens in the other. I suppose that's another reason why it's important to find a way for every part of life to fit together in harmony, as you're describing.
Just going to add a few points on this subject.
I've been thinking about this a lot of late also. I keep refinding the love in Parkour; not that it was lost, but I keep hitting new areas, of which, remind me why I love the movement and how happy it makes me.
Dave's comment was interesting. Parkour is a commitment, as it is a set of morals to live by and grow from, and the life/Parkour transition, is blurred, to me anyway.
Perosnally I don't see any separation, as I've said before, I practice parkour within my life, and I live my life within the morals of Parkour, because I feel them to be an effective and wholesome way to live and see the world. I know that areas of my life need improvement, but that is Parkour to me; I love that there is space to continue to grow, and I hope I never lose that thirst.
Fear, I'm unsure what my fears are to be exact, my body means a lot to me, movement is essential for life, and I feel it would be hard to live and feel alive without the feeling of movement, look at Dick and Rick Hoyt for example, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flRvsO8m_KI&feature=related , There's a quote where his son said, "When we're running it feels like my disability disapears". I would love to see some scientific/psychological research on movement and how it improves mood/happiness, I know about endorphine release, but there's something more I feel, be it spiritual or subconscious or another, I don't know.
There is a much more direct feedback loop with movement challenges, as there is a very obvious sense of achievement and success, and yes they should be appreciated and celebrated, but not to the extent of the bigger picture, becasue you CAN improve and CAN do better, with patience, determination and courage.
The fear is there to help challenge us I feel, and yes, potentially the inherant risks that our choices within Parkour CAN put us under may be greater than other areas, but I feel as I;m writing this, this is the point of fear. To scare us so much as to take care of our actions, but to push onwards in the things we personally have to, to live a wholesome and fulfilling life.
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