Upside Down

Standing on one’s head, for any period of time, is a cultural experiment. It starts with a willingness to look at the world from a different perspective. That willingness turns into a decision, and this is the first step. The second step involves asking the question, “How do I go about this?” A little assessment of the environment is required, a little playful exploration. Where will I place my head? Is there a cushion or a folded blanket I can use to soften the experience? It may be that there are props, little comforts that can ease the body into the inversion. A wall, for instance, could serve to support the legs. But props and comforts will only take you so far. At some point, you have to ready yourself to go upside down. Children are much more adept at this. They have less experience with the embarrassment, or pain, of falling over. Watch them in the playground dangling from monkey bars, or from the branches of a tree. Literal and abstract shifts in perspective are a natural part of growing up. You may have overhead a child on the bus with her mother, as another example, asking why the man sitting across from them has such dark skin. Noticing difference does not pose any challenge to the young mind. It is not an uncomfortable thing to flip one’s worldview when one is used to relatively rapid change. A loose tooth one day, a gap in your smile the next; shoes that fit on Monday do not fit by the end of the week. It is when a person gets used to a certain degree of stability, the illusion of have reached a fixed point in life, that it gets harder to see things with fresh eyes. That is why it is worth your while to spend some time standing on your head.

It will be awkward at first. It may take a few tries before your legs stay up and your torso stops wobbling. Be gentle with yourself. What you discover will be worth the effort.