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Who Am I Without My Hoop?
Our Identities as Hoopers
Our Identities as Hoopers
With so many friends out on the Playa this week, I've been thinking about my first trip out to Burning Man. Within
just hours of arriving there, I found myself sitting alone in the desert crying my eyes out. I remember that moment
as an intensely painful identity crisis. At the time, I figured I had two things going for me: I could think fast on my
feet and I could carry a decent tune. Since neither of these seemed of much value in my new environment, I found
myself completely panicked. Who was I out here? If I wasn't the singer or the witty one, what was left?
circular safety blankets and my luggage, I admit I felt a familiar twinge in my
stomach. Followed, of course, by another, itself brought on by the sudden awareness that I had come to
emotionally depend upon my hoop. What would I do if I couldn't hoop? What would I do for ex-rcise, "mood
corrections" :-), comfort .. even as a conversation starter when meeting new people? I would feel a bit naked, it
became clear to me, without a hoop in my hand! Was my predicament that different from my four-year-old's
attachment to her treasured stuffed bunny?
Disappointed and feeling a tad pathetic, I put on my hooping tee, and brought along all my questions - to unpack
here, on the train, without my hoops. Watching the world go by in my window is somehow helping to put things into
perspective. I see that my internal relationship with myself as a hooper will also always be linked in some way to
an external object, my hoop. Having that object near me makes that relationship visible, tangible, and palpable. It
makes me feel safe.
just hours of arriving there, I found myself sitting alone in the desert crying my eyes out. I remember that moment
as an intensely painful identity crisis. At the time, I figured I had two things going for me: I could think fast on my
feet and I could carry a decent tune. Since neither of these seemed of much value in my new environment, I found
myself completely panicked. Who was I out here? If I wasn't the singer or the witty one, what was left?
circular safety blankets and my luggage, I admit I felt a familiar twinge in my
stomach. Followed, of course, by another, itself brought on by the sudden awareness that I had come to
emotionally depend upon my hoop. What would I do if I couldn't hoop? What would I do for ex-rcise, "mood
corrections" :-), comfort .. even as a conversation starter when meeting new people? I would feel a bit naked, it
became clear to me, without a hoop in my hand! Was my predicament that different from my four-year-old's
attachment to her treasured stuffed bunny?
Disappointed and feeling a tad pathetic, I put on my hooping tee, and brought along all my questions - to unpack
here, on the train, without my hoops. Watching the world go by in my window is somehow helping to put things into
perspective. I see that my internal relationship with myself as a hooper will also always be linked in some way to
an external object, my hoop. Having that object near me makes that relationship visible, tangible, and palpable. It
makes me feel safe.
| Hooposophy articles are written by Superhooper.org's Lara Eastburn All Rights Reserved |
| Comments are updated nightly. "This is such an excellent topic, thank you! I've just recently discovered how much of my identity my hoop has been; this weekend I went to visit a friend and left my hoops at home. When I drove out of my neighborhood I realized my mistake in leaving my hoops behind, but brushed it off. And then I got to the light. Anxiety! What if I "needed" my hoop? Should I just turn around and go back? I was shocked by my own inner dialogue of insecurity. Andrea - www.HealthyHoopers.com, 12/13/10 "My most deep and sincere thank you for this post! <3" -9/20/10 " ......'But I am still a hooper without my hoop. The way I would still be a redhead even if I went platinum.' .... Exactly it! You are a beautiful lovely person, no hoop needed. The hoop just allows you a way to express that beauty in an external way. Everything that you put into the hoop, is you. It comes from you. The hoop without you in it, is just a piece of plastic on the floor. Boring. Flat. Stationary. It is what happens when you put YOU into it that makes it beautiful. You can exist without the hoop, but the hoop can't exist without you. :)" - 9/1/10 "So much to ponder here Lara ... love it. Identifying as "hooper" has different meaning in my life depending on where we are located. I've found that in the majority of people don't even know what a hooper is, and therefore kind of dismiss it as a whimsical pastime, akin to swinging on a swing at the park. So in that moment where I am describing it to them, their judgment deflates my excitement. But when I have found a group of like-minded hoopers, it's like the world opens up. To find someone who shares your "obsession" in the same way is pure bliss. In the Bozement hoop group, we are no longer just mamas at the park ... we share this amazing connection as those who are pursuing something deeper. Learning a new craft. Connecting through music. I'm interested to see how "being a hooper" will change who I connect with as we travel West. There is a new world to be explored ... and I can't wait!" - 9/1/10 |
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These days, I like to think I'm better practiced at knowing who I am to myself
without the help of referencing my social roles. But, then, maybe there are
just more roles to occupy and choose from now -- business-owner, mother,
wife, and so on. My routines removed, perhaps my identity is no less fragile
than it was all those years ago in the desert.
The question comes to mind primarily because I am traveling today. Without
my hoops. As soon as I realized the train would not accommodate my big
without the help of referencing my social roles. But, then, maybe there are
just more roles to occupy and choose from now -- business-owner, mother,
wife, and so on. My routines removed, perhaps my identity is no less fragile
than it was all those years ago in the desert.
The question comes to mind primarily because I am traveling today. Without
my hoops. As soon as I realized the train would not accommodate my big
Image, "Lost Contact," kinetrope.com
But I am still a hooper without my hoop. The way I would still be a redhead even if I went platinum. Somewhere
along the way, it seems I learned to hoop from the inside out. Unknowingly, I brought the rhythm, beat and flow of
my hoop's movements into myself and made a place for them there.
along the way, it seems I learned to hoop from the inside out. Unknowingly, I brought the rhythm, beat and flow of
my hoop's movements into myself and made a place for them there.
My hooping practice has changed my perception of the world around me in
permanent ways. But because "practice" is the operative word here, what
is "hooper" about me will jump out to work and play in a hoop the moment I
am physically near one again.
I have decided that, in the end, it is my commitment to making the time and
space for that to happen that makes me a hooper. Whether my hoop is
with me or not. What about you? What does identifying as a "hooper"
mean in your life?
permanent ways. But because "practice" is the operative word here, what
is "hooper" about me will jump out to work and play in a hoop the moment I
am physically near one again.
I have decided that, in the end, it is my commitment to making the time and
space for that to happen that makes me a hooper. Whether my hoop is
with me or not. What about you? What does identifying as a "hooper"
mean in your life?
