I am not graceful.

Most people who know me would agree with that statement. I like to think that I’m poised, but I know that I am not.

Actually, I am pretty clutzy. If someone is going to trip over her own feet, it will probably be me.

This is a weird dichotomy, because I am the person who wants to be perfect. And yet when it comes to being graceful, I am so far from perfect.

Kayaking lacks grace

Case in point: I went kayaking with a friend. We meandered our way up a little stream, until we reached a point where he felt that we couldn’t go any further.

“Do you know how to turn around?” he asked as he easily maneuvered his long kayak around and past me.

“I’ll figure it out,” I said.

I tried to copy his technique, putting my paddle in and swinging around the front end.

His parting advice to me was, “Don’t get my kayak stuck.”

I tried several times to back my kayak up and swing it around. I could see it in my mind how it should work, but it just wanted to swing around to the right. I kept hitting the other bank. We were in a pretty tight spot.

After about my third attempt, I decided to try the other direction. That worked. It also meant I didn’t have to get out into the water to turn the kayak around. I had considered that as my last resort. It wasn’t deep, but it was chilly.

As I headed back toward the creek, I heard him call out to me, “Mystique? Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” I hollered back. “I’m coming.”

When I finally caught up, I told him that I wasn’t graceful, but at least I can get the job done.

Always lacked grace

I guess I always have been self-conscious about my lack of coordination. I am hesitant to get up and dance in front of anyone. I certainly don’t want to look like a fool. I will avoid that at all costs. Unless, of course, I’m on stage and the part calls for it.

I can’t even do anything around the house without walking into furniture or counter tops. I’m always covered with various bruises that I don’t even remember where they came from.

Even doing simple things seems to elude me. When I was in high school, the cross-country coach told me I should go out for running, because I had such long legs.

I couldn’t run. I hated running. I wasn’t good at it. It made me tired. It made me cranky.

It wasn’t until years later that I realized I probably was running wrong. When my kids were in school, they learned about proper running form. Perhaps if the cross-country coach had shared some of that with me, I’d have been a better runner to start.

The same was true of most sports. I was in volleyball for a year. I enjoyed it, but I wasn’t very good. Again, that coordination thing eluded me. When we had to start serving overhand, I gave it up. I just couldn’t do it. You can’t play volleyball if you can’t serve.

Graceful skiing?

I really didn’t like gym class, because I wasn’t good at anything. The closest I came to enjoying it was when we did cross-country skiing. Despite the fact I wasn’t very good at that either, at least I enjoyed it. Which is weird, because you do it outside. In the winter. In the snow. I know, right? I moved to Tennessee to get away from Wisconsin winters!

I think I liked cross-country skiing, though, because we all were in the same proverbial boat. Even the people who were more athletically inclined tended to struggle with it. Cross-country skiing wasn’t something that most of us had ever done before. We were all learning together. And you were so focused on what you were doing, you really couldn’t pay attention to how foolish everyone else looked, let alone razz them about it. So no one was commenting on how absolutely absurd I surely looked trying to get a groove on.

I tried Nordic skiing a couple of years ago during a visit to Colorado. It was pretty much a train wreck. I have not improved with age. But it was fun to get out and give it a try again.

Basics don’t require much grace

Now, I know to stick to things that don’t require a lot of coordination. I like walking, hiking and biking. I enjoy snowshoeing, which is just hiking with bigger footwear.

Even swimming, which I love, and which saved my sanity last winter, fails to produce a level of grace. When my daughter watched me do the crawl, she advised that I should stick to the side stroke instead.

Grace is probably not something I can learn at this point in my life. Yes, I can try and walk and not trip over my own feet. I probably even could learn to swim properly with lessons. I might be able to turn a kayak around more easily with practice.

But maybe I just need to accept the fact that I am graceless.

Be a Better Writer Tip

We all make mistakes. Sometimes we make mistakes in things that we write. If it’s published, chances are someone will point out our mistakes. (Thanks, Stephen, for catching an error in this column, which suggested I should read it more carefully, and I found a number of things to correct!)

It is helpful to accept criticism with grace. If you receive criticism that is not constructive, it still is best to respond as gracefully as you can. Say thank you and move on. There is no need to engage or make a big deal out of it.

Personally, I tend to follow Thumper’s mother’s advice: If you can’t say somethin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.

That, however, is challenging as an editor. It means I have to find something positive to say if I’m going to provide constructive criticism in the work I’m editing. I also better know why I’m suggesting that something is incorrect – and not just because I think so. After all, I make mistakes, too.

Perhaps that’s where I’m most graceful – as an editor.