Hi friends,
Calling all hustlers! This one’s for you/us. We have some self-professed overachievers on our team — whose ambitious attention to detail we are grateful for — but we wouldn’t get far without gentle reminders to not let perfect be the enemy of the good. A cliché? Sure, but one that helps us get shit done without losing our shit. A fine balance.
Friend of Prism Xiomara Bovell is what you might call a reformed “doing the most-er.” She recounts the Pilates-fueled journey that helped her go from all-in to chilled out. We’re listening.
Embracing the wabi-sabi,
The Prism Team
Xiomara is jack-of-all-trades, master of some, who has spent chapters of life as a dancer, a creative strategist and, for a few years, a boutique fitness instructor. She writes about arts, culture, and performance in her Substack Live Cultures and hosts bi-monthly community field trips to see live performances in NYC.
One thing that makes Xiomara feel well: sunshine and no agenda.
I can do it all…I just don’t want to anymore.
If nothing else, I try hard. I don’t dabble, I dive — into new languages, careers, artistic pursuits, personal projects (#renaissancewoman or first-born, Virgo, AND eldest daughter of immigrants, you decide).
In 2019, after months of intrigue around the contraptions (which I now know to be Megaformers) neatly lined up in the studio I passed on my commute, I decided to try Lagree — the high-intensity cousin of Pilates. It’s faster, heavier, and designed to make you suffer a little. The first class was certainly…humbling (the instructor was also kind of an asshole, but I digress). But despite the slow start, I knew that once I got familiar with the technique and language of Lagree I’d be in my element and that instructor could eat his snarky little words. As a late starter in ballet, I’d mastered the art of being the dark horse, and before long I was Lagree-literate, fluently transitioning between moves, adding challenging variations, and earning shoutouts from the instructors. In just 50 minutes, I would work every muscle in my body (even ones I didn’t know I had); sweating, shaking and internally crying, beneath the altar of a "Better Sore Than Sorry" wall decal. The 1:1 correlation between my effort on the Megaformer and results I could see and feel made the mantra that hard work pays off actually feel true.
For me, overachievement is a reflex. If I’m going to do something, it’s ain't no mountain high enough — I’ll take things to the hardest, biggest, furthest degree possible (…often flirting a little too closely with the edge of burnout valley). So naturally, I didn’t just do Lagree — I set out to master it. An online application form turned into a one week bootcamp, followed by 12 weeks of intensive instructor training. I was teaching free classes alongside my full-time nine-to-five, juggling pitches and strategy proposals with playlists and routine plans. My training odyssey culminated in three rounds of audition classes with a room full of clients, closely examined by “master instructors” for whom I’d need to flawlessly demonstrate efficient routine sequencing, musicality, charisma, and client rapport to make the cut. It was A LOT, but I made it.
In hindsight, I’m not sure why I started teaching (though it makes for a solid subtle-flex “fun fact” at corporate icebreakers). I didn’t want a fitness career. I had a job I liked and a plethora of other hobbies. If I’m honest, I think I just wanted to prove that I could. And so, I did.