The Nix Fix: The Flip Side

The Flip Side
by Nicola Colville

Have you ever had one of those weeks where everything feels upside down? That was me. After severe water damage from the apartment next door, our home was in disarray: floorboards torn open, fans humming through the night, and belongings scattered everywhere. Life felt completely unsettled, as though I was living inside an inversion of its own.

So, when I stepped into Léa’s Luna Lounge on inversions on August 22, it felt almost poetic. She began by talking about perspective—how many of us meet inversions with fear. That little voice inside that whispers: What if I fall? What if I can’t do it? What if I look silly?

But instead of asking us to push those feelings away, she invited us to make space for something else alongside them: willingness. A willingness to try, to trust, to explore. Willingness doesn’t erase fear, but it softens its edges, making room for curiosity. We carried this into partner work, where trust became essential. Trusting someone else to support you, to spot you, to encourage you requires a surrender that can be just as challenging as the inversion itself. And in that space of surrender, creativity appears—you find new ways of moving, a new freedom in your body and in your mind.

Inversions often feel like a mirror for everyday life. We meet challenges carrying the same familiar fears, the fear of falling, of failing, of not knowing what comes next. What if, instead, we held both fear and willingness at the same time, whispering: I may not know what happens next, but I’m open to trying? That’s precisely what I did. Guided more by curiosity than fear, I leaned into trust: in myself, into my partner’s support, into the wall, and into scorpion pose—or at least my own version of it. Holding it, even briefly, I felt a surge of joy. It was a moment that reminded me courage often arrives quietly, tucked behind the willingness to step out of our own way. I wasn’t alone in the magic of these discoveries. A friend attending the class admitted she’s still “fighting with her fear”, yet she felt sparks of possibility. A new member glowed with accomplishment, carrying the joy of trying something she admitted she never thought possible. It was a beautiful reminder that courage grows stronger in community—when one person dares, it opens the door for us all.

By the end of class, somewhere between the trepidation, laughter, the stumbles, and the willingness to turn things upside down, my chaotic week felt softer, lighter.

Thank you, Léa, for your guidance—for showing us that when we shift perspective, what once felt like a wall can suddenly look like a doorway.

Namaste

Nix