This morning I woke up early to go to a beach workout organized by my gym.
It was raining.
Immediately, there was a perfectly reasonable reason not to go. Maybe they would cancel. Maybe I could just stay home. But I remember thinking that I wanted to do something differently than I would have before.
I wanted to show up anyway.
Part of it was also respect for the person organizing it. Someone had taken the time to plan something and bring people together. I didn't want a little rain to automatically become my excuse for not showing up.
And then I started thinking about how long I've actually been going to this gym.
More than 15 years.
Fifteen years!
They've always organized things outside of the gym—beach workouts, Friendsgiving, different events—and I have barely ever gone.
The funny thing is that there's a big community there. People know each other. It's welcoming. And for years, I think I somehow considered myself part of it simply because I went to the gym.
But I wasn't really.
I was there, but I was still kind of an outsider.
That distinction has been interesting for me to think about lately. Being somewhere isn't the same thing as participating in it. Going to the same place for years doesn't necessarily build relationships. People have to see you. You have to talk to them. Have fun with them. Show up to things.
You have to let yourself participate.
And that's where this became a little more uncomfortable for me.
Because in the past, I think I would sometimes perceive myself as isolated. Maybe I felt judged. Maybe I was shy at first.
But now I'm questioning how much of that distance was actually coming from me.
I'm an outgoing person. I know I'm likable. But I can also create an initial distance with people. I have perceptions. I make judgments. Sometimes, if I'm being truthful, I might even feel superior.
And then I stay separate.
I'm starting to notice the contradiction in that.
I can want community, connection, new experiences and relationships while carrying thought patterns that keep me at a distance from the exact things I say I want.
Those thought patterns have separated me from things I actually want and desire.
So this morning I went.
I saw the owner. I talked to people a little. I was there.
And then the beach workout got canceled because of the weather.
Technically, I woke up early and drove to the beach for an event that never happened.
But strangely, it didn't feel pointless.
I had already done the thing I wanted to practice doing: I showed up.
I'm not suddenly going to declare myself a completely different person because I attended one canceled beach workout. And showing up once doesn't suddenly make me part of a community.
But it was a small change in how I participated.
For a long time, I think I've had this idea that sometimes what we're looking for is right in front of us.
This morning made me think about the other half of that.
Something can be right in front of me for years and still remain outside of my life if I keep standing at a distance from it.
Maybe sometimes I don't need to go looking for something new.
Maybe I need to notice what's already there—and actually participate in it.
