All That Glitters
Image via Amada MA via Unsplash.
The 2024 Summer Olympic Games have been such a gift, haven’t they?
The news cycle continues to brutalize the senses, with woeful assessments of the global status quo and frightening predications about our future. So many people in my private life are worried. I tuck my children in at night and wonder if the world will be good enough for them - if their version of “good enough” will match mine.
In the midst of this heaviness, the Olympics have offered many shiny moments of humanity at its best. I gasped when gymnast Sunisa Lee, in her practice round on the uneven bars, fell face-first to the ground. Minutes later, she performed her official routine with stunning dexterity. I think I held my breath the entire time.
The footage of gymnast Stephen Nedoroscik dominating the pommel horse without missing a beat is an inspiring visual on its own. Yet I found his achievement even more compelling when I learned that he’s cross-sighted, that he quite literally feels his way through his routine.
And who among us will forget when swimmer Katie Ledecky absolutely smoked the competition in her 1500m freestyle victory? Whose mind isn’t still spinning from the records she’s shattered?
Perhaps it’s no surprise that, in this season of uncertainty, I’m most inspired by these glittering stories of determination and resilience. The Olympics remind us not only of what the body is capable of doing but also what the mind is capable of conquering. Of all the stories of triumph underpinning these Olympic games, Simone Biles’s openness in protecting her mental health to overcome her fear of the “twisties” is particularly inspiring to me.
I’m no Olympian athlete, but - bear with me - as a creative, I found the discussion around the twisties vaguely familiar. I wonder if Biles’s experience offers insights beyond the world of gymnastics. Maybe a powerhouse gymnast, capable of summoning the fortitude to face her fear, is exactly what the world needs right now.
During the Tokyo games, Biles officially withdrew after becoming beset with the twisties. The vast majority of us had never heard of the twisties before this point. Many gymnasts quickly took to social media to share their own experiences of losing a sense of “air awareness.” According to the Cleveland Clinic, the twisties are “a mental block that creates a dangerous disconnect between mind and body while gymnasts are airborne.”
Matthew Sacco, a sports psychologist at the Cleveland Clinic, told Time Magazine that the twisties are “a disconnect in the feedback loop … The brain and body are no longer communicating efficiently, and that causes a gymnast to lose sense of where their body is while they’re in the air.”
Block. Disconnect. Stuck.
What strikes me in the discussion of the twisties is the language. I use most of it. As a writer, I’m stunned that the gymnastics lexicon matches mine. Sometimes, I’ll complain that I’m blocked. That I’m stuck on a sentence. That I can’t find the word I want. That I’ve lost my way.
There’s a disconnect.
But maybe the commonality shouldn’t come as a surprise. Whatever our chosen form of expression, we perform best in a state of flow. The optimal headspace for a creative arises when we find the sweet spot which marries extreme focus without a thought as to performance. We’re so fully engaged in the task at hand that we forget ourselves. Time falls away. There’s a sense of union, of purpose, and of connection. I’ve never (sadly) flipped through the air, but writing to me has always felt like flying. Maybe the feeling of flow is the same however you come to it.
Olympic ingenues will always hold our attention. The promise of their youth! Their contagious excitement! However, there’s something powerful in watching seasoned professionals face their fears and try again. I think Biles offers so much wisdom in finding the path forward. Because the twisties can be wrapped up in perfectionism and a fear of failure, those aiding her recovering offer powerful lessons for the rest of us in finding our way back to flow (and also, back to ourselves):
Professional support: Even with a significant time difference, Biles spoke with her therapist throughout the Olympics at 7 AM. She’s prioritized her mental health by setting aside time to address it. Being open about our fears immediately takes the edge off of them, and Biles reminds us that there is no shame in asking for help. We’re all in this together.
Returning to the basics: Sports psychologists report walking athletes back through the building blocks of their practice. They might rely on a foam pit or work on less difficult skills. They might watch videos where they successfully completed the routine that now frightens them. Essentially, they retrace their steps to find their way forward. We can all break down challenging tasks this way. For me, it might mean a prompt, an outline, or more research. For you, it might look like something else entirely. The point, it seems, is to remind ourselves of our capabilities - in small doses.
Relaxation techniques: The Cleveland Clinic recommends breathing exercises, visualization, and guided imagery. Others have recommended mindfulness practices, such as mediation and reconnecting to nature. There’s so much beauty in reclaiming the body this way, in using the body to quiet the mind. Creatives, too, can prioritize calming our bodies to support our work. Even with the more mind-focused work that I do, I find I’m able to think best when I’ve nurtured my body and mind first.
Rest: Athletes have used other words to describe a mind-body disconnect. We’ve heard about “the yips,” about “choking,” etc. Increasingly, sports psychologists advise athletes to stop. Sometimes, when the body is screaming, we have to listen. A modern take on recovery views this combination of brain fog and muscle spasms as a cue to rest. In the writing world, I often see early birds and night owls competing to see who can get the most done on the least amount of sleep. Pushing each other toward a higher daily word count. Promoting the challenging juggling act of creating multiple manuscripts at one time. And I’m certainly guilty of this, too. There’s something to be said, though, for taking time allow our minds and bodies to recover from a punishing regime. To remember why we love what we do in the first place.
In The Merchant of Venice, Shakespeare famously wrote: “All that glitters is not gold.” Biles has won a lot of gold medals in her Olympic career - six, as of this writing. The world will rightly celebrate her for her achievements. Yet I believe her most impressive feat is in doing the work to rise above her fears, and in sharing her journey so that others will not feel so alone as they walk theirs. In reclaiming her love for her sport, Biles - like so many of her fellow Olympians - came to the games having already won. They’re all already golden.
