The Power of Perspective
Covid-19: the threat that has changed the world. You’re probably sitting at home right now, wondering what’s happening, and why this virus is wreaking havoc on your life.
I know the feeling: you feel as though your life is out of control and everything that you’ve worked towards, is disappearing before your eyes. Of course, I’ve never lived through a Pandemic, and I don’t want to draw too many comparisons, but one of the toughest and most valued lessons I have learned came from when I felt as though I had no control over my life. The lesson boiled down to the importance of perspective, and I wanted to share with you to give you something to ponder on...
Here goes nothing (I know, this article is a long one, but I promise it’s worth it).
It was 2013: the year leading up to the Olympic qualifying event and the Olympics. It was the most significant year of our career, and my partner and I had big dreams. We had been training for 9 years to compete at The Games, and we knew that we were going to have to be impressive at every competition to qualify. Everything was on the line.
Unfortunately, my body didn’t get the memo.
It began as an achilles injury in April while we were skating 6-8 hours a day while creating new programs. Annoying, but it was a manageable injury. We significantly reduced our training to help it heal, and that infuriated me. I didn’t want to show injury or weakness to anyone, and I wasn’t used to my body not listening to me. I knew I was making the right decision for the longevity of our season, but that didn’t cool my frustration.
Time went by, and my achilles started to slowly heal. We reintroduced elements that we were unable to practice a few months prior, and I was elated at the progress we were making. And although the training wasn’t easy, I was relieved to be training at my full capacity again, making progress towards our Olympic dream.
But again, my body quickly failed me. Leading up to our international season, I tweaked my hamstring on a throw triple Lutz. I stubbornly skated through the mild injury because I didn’t want to miss out on more training opportunities and I went into our first international competition in a slightly compromised position. The bad news didn’t end there. Mid competition I took a fall that resulted in a pulled/strained hamstring, groin and psoas muscle on my dominant side (the leg that I needed to land all of my “tricks”)... My body, at a pivotal time in our career, was letting me down. I felt as though I had no control over it.
I didn’t have the strength in those injured areas to support my body walking, let alone with speed or force of impact that accompanied jumps and throws. It was September, which meant I was 4 months away from having to compete and earn a spot to the Olympics. And I could barely glide across the ice.
I was devastated. Infuriated. Frustrated beyond imagination. And… scared. I had put so much time, energy and love into the years leading up to my Olympic moment, and now, months before I needed to be ready, I was at my worst. I wallowed in self-pity, anger and hopelessness. I didn’t know how to move forwards.
And then I had a conversation that changed my life. My sport psychologist handed out some tough-love to me and said: “Paige, you have two choices, and you need to decide right now which one you are going to choose. You can continue down the path you’re on and you can be angry, frustrated and heartbroken. You can spend your time fighting this new truth in your life (the injury) and you likely won’t make the Olympics (cue: me crying). Or, you can shift your focus from everything that you have “lost” to what you are gaining through this experience. You can focus on the opportunitiesyou are being given and we can start to find a new way forwards towards your goals”.
It shook me to my bones. It was the first time that I could see my two choices laid out, and that the choice was within my power. I wasn’t helpless.
From that moment, I began to work on shifting my perspective. I began to train with a new focus- I stopped berating myself over everything that I couldn’t do, and I put 100% energy into everything that I coulddo. I was grateful for the little things, like my skating skills, the depths of my edges, telling a story with my body and emotions throughout our programs... aspects of figure skating that I had taken for granted, or put less time into because of the fierce focus I had been putting on the more technical elements. All of a sudden, these were the aspects of my day that I woke up excited to work on.
And during the months leading up to the Olympic qualifying event, which were inevitably the most stressful, anxious and trying moments of my life, I found myself quite simply, falling back in love with my sport in a way that I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen out of. I relearned to love figure skating again, like my 5-year-old self loved it- because of the way that it made me feel and because of what it gave to me, rather than loving it for the external rewards.
As time went on, my body slowly healed, and I was able to reintroduce difficult elements back into my training. But I was able to do it in a way that honoured this newfound love and more balanced focus. I was no longer the obsessive, no-pain-no-gain, technically driven skater. I received each new element as a gift that I was thankful for, and I helped integrate it into my new training outlook.
January 10 and 11, I stepped onto the ice to compete for our Olympic spot, and despite some elements being undertrained, I was confident in my ability to simply share my love for figure skating. I trusted we would be OK. That everything would be OK.
And we were. And it was.
It was far from a perfect skate, but it was enough. And it is strange to say, but I can honestly tell you now, that I don’t think my partner and I would have qualified for the Olympics had I not injured myself so badly months before. In those months of dealing with my injury, I learned to navigate the stresses of an Olympic season with a newfound grace, respect and perspective on the situation, which allowed me to show up and be exactly who I needed to be in the moments that counted. What was originally the worst thing that could have happened to me, became my saving grace.
That is the power of perspective.
So, I urge you, in these troublesome, difficult and stressful times, to challenge yourself to look for an opportunity you are being given. I understand that things may feel overwhelming right now, but all is not lost. Be patient, be kind to yourself, and look for a positive way towards your goals. Adapt. Pivot. Shift your perspective. It’s not the easiest thing to do, but it could be one of the most meaningful things you will ever do.