One of Those Moments

One of those moments when all you can do is stand and allow the love you feel to consume you...

She listens. I'll give her that. I get real fucking emotional about 4 days before my period and about 2 days before a full moon hits and 2 days after. Nothing makes me happy and I become this sensitive & needy mess. I pick apart every kiss and look for "unconscious signs." that we need to re-connect. I get ridiculous. I say that and laugh a little, If you really know me, I'm sure you can hear my humor in telling you those things. There is humor, but there is also truth. I'm conscious of it. When those kind of thoughts enter my mind, I acknowledge them, breath, and shift my focus to something more positive. By the end of the day though, I'm sometimes done trying to be positive. I was like that today, and yesterday in fact. But the reason why I'm sitting here right now is because she listens. She loves me. She understands I get like this, and she doesn't take it personally. She's patient with me. She asks questions. I came downstairs a few minutes ago because after having been upstairs for a few hours collapsing myself in a Netflix coma because all I've wanted to do for days is withdraw from the world; I came downstairs to find her curled upon the couch, wrapped in my favorite blanket, barely lit by the Christmas tree and muted basketball highlights. I stopped, I wanted so badly to touch her arm and kiss her back, but she looked too peaceful; so I stood there and just watched her. I imagine this is what it really is all about, when you find this person you will spend most of your life with. It's sincere. It's fun. It's giving and understanding. It's often quiet. Fran used to tell me all the time that my problem was that I was always looking for that rush, but when real love came, it would come a little gentler. It would come steady, like an undercurrent, and there would be a sense of safety and peace. I used to tell her how boring that sounded, and she used to tell me that was my problem. But I get it now. I'm grateful for this woman, that is now asleep upstairs in our bed. The women came to me earlier because she knew I was exceptionally needy today and getting ready to start a fight (even thought I was desperately trying not to!) to hold my hand, lay on my chest and listen to whatever I needed to say, and by the time I was done, I couldn't help but to smile. The one person in the world that doesn't spark fear as seeks to understand my heart a little more. I appreciate the way she listens, the way she tries, the way she gives and the way we fight. I love to know her, a little more each day. It's not boring at all. It's quite comforting actually, and exciting. Things are different, obviously. We talk about the future, our future. We fit together, her and I. Like I never expected to fit with anyone.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Projection

Blame.

I went to bed last night yearning to right, but unable to go grasp what exactly I was suppose to be writing about; what it was I was suppose to be contemplating. Often there is so much that divinely lead up to the moment I finally sit down in front of this computer, I find it difficult to try and explain how I got here, without ending it all ending up like a rambling over-drawn story. I've always been a believer in signs. Signs from God. Signs that try to point you in a certain direction, or see something you've yet to become conscious of. Lately, it's been self-control & blame for me. And maybe my whole "introduction" tell you how I got here paragraph is just a bunch of unconscious distraction BS.

I blame other people for various things in my life, then credit myself for making positive changes. I blamed my father for years for the struggles I faced with anger and self-medicating. I blamed my mother for my inability to manage money, or up until this point, hold a steady & committed relationship. Most recently, I've blamed Angela for my 20lb weight gain. It's because I moved here, and she is always bringing "junk" into the house. (Honey, I do apologize if this is the first time you are reading this! I do love you, and I understand it's not really your fault) These are only the ones I could think of off the top of my head. The question then becomes, where is me taking my responsibility in this? And where is God in my success? My healing? My recovery? They say anger is one of those blanket emotions that are covering a deeper hurt, a deeper feeling. We just say anger because it's superficial, pinpointing real feelings makes us vulnerable and raw. And who wants to be vulnerable and raw anyway? :) Angela and I hit a very rough patch, over the last few weeks we have really began to reconnect in a way that definitely brings us closer then we were before. But I asked myself what changed? I remember something shifting inside of me... and I think it was that I finally stopped blaming her for the things in my life I was less than happy with. My weight, the responsibility of a dog that has taken me some time to become okay with, and not visiting friends in Detroit like I would have liked. I've never looked at blame. I've looked at a lot of emotions in my journey to know myself more each and every day, but never blame. When I finally decided to not be angry with her and be true to myself, I was able to open up to her again. So the questions then becomes... who else have I blamed? And how can I use this deeper understanding to become more conscious and more enlightened?

With Grace & Gratitiude

To Unconditional Love Oneself

Unconditionally being the key word, and this seeming to be the goal. Years ago after getting sober I had to learn to love myself. I had absolutely no conception of what that meant. I had spent the best part of the 10 years prior, hurting myself. Taking my anger out on me, blaming myself, and metaphorically & literally ripping myself apart. I was my own worst enemy, and anyone who knew me could tell you that. The thoughts in my head were killing me, and I was killing myself.  It's been over 5 years since I got sober. I sit here today the healthiest I've ever been, on all levels. I have spent more time in a gym the last 4 years than most people will probably every spend in their lives, and I'm not so sure that's even an exaggeration. I've spent the last 9 months pushing my body physically like I never have before. Extensive weight training, 3x a week and cardio at different times. Working chest/biceps, legs, & back and triceps like clock work each week. Maxing, sometimes failing, & always pushing. If I ever wanted to take some sort of weight lifting championship title, or break any records, now would be the opportune time to do so. I train with a world power-lifting champion who holds a world record which is absolutely no exaggeration. But yet, I find myself here. A similar place I have been a few times. That still & quiet space of knowing that what you are doing, isn't necessary anymore. Not that it's not working, it just isn't needed. God has a different plan. There is always that smidge of sadness, The kind of sadness that comes with goodbye's, the good goodbye's. The goodbye's that are sending you off into a new phase of your life, a new door you've yet to walk through. I have fought this feeling for months, I've fought my partner for months. But something inside of me has shifted, and I've spent the last few weeks watching my body finally give way to what my soul has been trying to tell me. I've went down in almost every weight for the last few weeks, and haven't made any PR's since October. It's not been for lack of effort either. I've eaten my protein, got plenty of sleep, drank my pre-workouts, pushed my body to failure, and yet still found myself in this place of quiet knowing. There is always a choice, and sure I could choose to continue to push my body how I've been pushing it and allow my ego to wear it's little self out. Because that's what happens. If God speaks and I don't listen, He will allow me to wear my happy little self out until the choice is beyond my control, or everything in my life shifts to accompany me down a path which will most likely bring me right back to where I started. To unconditionally love myself is to listen to myself. To love myself even when I'm not doing the things my ego thinks I should be. To trust. To have a little faith. I have fought with my partner more about my power-lifting activities than I have any other subject. Defiantly exclaiming I loved it, and who was she for trying to take that away from me? I've "loved" a lot of things that weren't true expressions of loving myself. I loved booze and smoking and food... and a few other things that were preventing me from truly loving myself, unconditionally. I asked myself if working out the way I have been was showing myself love. Was it really good for me? I couldn't honestly answer yes. Yoga, absolutely, I do yoga because it's good for me, because I love myself. Cardio? Yes, I do that too because it's good for me and helps me be a better version of myself. Power-lifting? Not so much. I do that because I love it, because it does something for my ego. Not only that... I eat often eat foods that I don't really want, that my body doesn't really want so I can support my workout routine. Foods that are very heavy, and don't support my highest good, like lots of meat... I don't really like a lot of meat, so why am I eating it? To support my working out? That's doing what for me? Protecting my sensitive, soft side? Pulling me so much into the physical because I'm always in pain that I cannot connect to Spirit as easily? An honest self-appraisal says it's just another addiction, although healthier than previous ones, that has served its purpose. The time to move on has come... to love myself a little more deeply, more unconditionally. To be a little gentler with my delicate self. And as sad as that makes me to say aloud, I know deep down it's true.

Grace & Gratitude...

Life & Death

"God is doing some serious recruitment this week....." - A friend's status update.

He sure is. I spent most of the last few days contemplating life and death. Actually it's probably been more about 2 weeks. I'm a hospice nurse. You can't do this day in and day out without really beginning to ask the deeper questions. What do I really believe about the afterlife? What haven't I seen? What am I afraid to see? And what do I know for sure? If anything. I watched a dear friend's body get laid to rest today, she was the oldest best friend I ever knew. She was 90 and taught me a tremendous amount about love & life. She was one of the few people in the world whom I felt truly knew me, could see past any façade I may have been holding up and loved me unconditionally. I adored her. I sobbed at her funeral and had to remind myself to just breathe.

I knew for over a week her time was coming very soon, I could feel it. The universe sent me numerous times. I had been wanting to go to see her where she lived two hours away for a year and a half and always had excuses. But today, all of a sudden, I found the time. I found the time to come to her funeral. What did that do for her? Who are funerals for anyway? They are for us. I felt guilt for not coming to see her. I needed closure, I wanted to say goodbye... and all of a sudden, I had the time, the gas money, and the willingness.... Selfishness. I'll take this as a lesson learned. Forgive myself and make some changes.

Then I visited Shauna. As reflective as I have been about life & death, I had to go see her. I stood in the cemetery and suddenly felt at a loss for words. Then I heard her say that I get so caught up in the feelings, the emotions, the pain. I focus so much on the sadness & the loss that I miss certain things. That I block myself from seeing things that I really want to see. Like the other side. I've been communicating with the other side for several years now, but there are certain aspects, I know I'm missing. Certain things I want to see and know, that I don't allow myself too. I've often wondered if it's fear, but it doesn't feel like fear. I asked Shauna about it today and she told me that I had it backwards. I've always needed to see to believe, when really I need to believe to see, and I had doubt. She said belief was very simple, it was a choice. I asked her, then what do I tell people when they ask why I believe what I believe? And she said to tell them because I choose too, because choosing too believe makes me a happy, it brings me peace, and helps me be a better person.

That concept has been a pillar in my belief system for yearssss. How do we know what is true, and what isn't? If everybody is right, how can there be such difference? Who cares if what we believe really is true? It's true for us isn't it? Does it make us better people? Does it bring positive service to the world in some way? What we believe is true... is. What we believe will work for us... will. I believe these things, because they resonate in my heart. But when it comes to life after this, I've read books. I've heard other people's beliefs, but somewhere inside of me, there is doubt. More like indecision, because I don't know what to believe. What does happen after we die? I don't know. I've seen bits and pieces. There are a few things I understand. I stood in the cemetery today and asked Shauna, "how do I know I'm really talking to you anyway? How do I know this isn't my imagination?" Her response... "There is your doubt, your indecision. Your choice." What if I wasn't really talking to her? What if it was just my imagination? Would it matter? If it was enough to get me here... contemplating life, death, and understanding God a little more deeply, then what fault has been made? I choose to believe it she was there today. Why? Because I want to see. Because believing it was her, opens my heart a little more. And the world can always use a few more open hearts.

Maybe it's not about what we believe happens or doesn't happen, or how we get there. Maybe none of that matters at all. Just our belief that it is okay to go, and that in some shape or form, love is waiting.

With Grace &Gratitude...

Find What You Love & Let It Kill You

"Patience is not about how long one can wait, but how well one behaves while waiting."

There's something sweet about tonight. Quiet. I read lots of things about patience today. Or should I say, lots of things about patience seemed to find their way to me? Not sure why, I don't feel particularly impatient. Maybe it was in preparation. Regina Spektor in the background brings a slight smile to my face.
         A few months back I wrote a blog about the thoughts of an aspiring power-lifter. I'll be the first to say it wasn't one of my best, or even close for that matter. Probably because, I found it easier to come out as a gay women then I did to confess my passion for weight lifting outside of my close night circle of gym buddies. Even now, I hold myself back a bit. Why? Because so many people don't understand why I do what I do. Why so many of us do what we do. I've been asked why I'm punishing myself. Been told my back and joints are going to give me big issues for the rest of my life, and that there was no way I lifted the weight I did. I've been told my calves are too big, that I'm going to hurt myself. I've been told I spend too much time in the gym and asked what pain I'm still working through. I think about lifting weights all the time. Just tonight I was laying in bed and thinking of squat day tomorrow. Wondering about what would be the best breakfast for me to eat to support leg day but not slow me down or even worse make me want to throw up with 300+ lbs on my back. I replayed the days events in the gym, about how I say others work out, conversations I had and advice that had been given to me without my asking for it. Was it useful information for me? My trainer is out of town, was I going to ask the guy sitting behind the desk who I find a little over the top to spot me? Or was I going to not max and just do 4 sets of 6 @ an 80% effort. Would that be too much? How much weight would that be anyways? 
      I LOVE THIS SHIT. Maybe my quote at the top should have been, "Find what you love & let it kill you." My confessions are these.... I love the way my arms look, my legs look, my neckline looks. I love breaking PR's, I love failing... it gives me something to think about; it makes me want to push harder. I'm always flexing in front of the mirror, and the gym is like my second home. I find it relaxing and grounding, and I go even on days when I don't want too. I'm sore everyday. If I'm not, I didn't work hard enough the day before. I love the way iron plates sound clanging together and coming off & on the bar. I admire people who push themselves mentally & physically to their own limits, willingly. I like tough people. People who don't take shit, and will tell you how it is. People who will look you in the eye and make reality hard to ignore because they know it will make you a better person, even if you don't like it. I've had amazing teachers, each very different, each exactly what I needed. I'm a lifer. This is my recovery. I've been doing this consistently for over 4 years with an 8 month exception after moving to Saint johns, because Snap & B-Strong just weren't working for me. I wear my gym t-shirts proudly. They get hung up, not folded. This is a tangible and visual result of change, starting from the inside. No, I've not reached my goal weight, and yes I eat too many calories sometimes, and some days McDonald's doesn't sound too fucking bad. But I keep moving forward. I take full responsibility for my decisions and don't let them stop me from taking my ass to the gym the next day. I have cheat days. When I'm home alone I watch youtube weight lifting videos and look up raw power-lifting records. I love following pages like "Gym Freaks" on Facebook. I enjoy being surrounded by people who love this sport as much as I do. My trainer told me last week she had embroidery done on her dress she was taking to Prague with her for the WPC world's championship... on the front it was barbell's wrapped like a DNA strand and on the back it said, "...it's in my blood." Then a woman that goes to the gym I used to go to before I moved said, "How about: Don't sit on your fat ass eating McDonald's and tubs of ice cream and then get mad when someone else has the body you wish you had. Eat less, move more. Go to the gym. Eat a f&@king salad. Pass on second breakfast. If you eat a whole bag of peanut butter cups worth 620 calories, get your ass on a airdyne and feel what it takes to burn 620 calories. Drink more water. Time to take that harsh pill called reality. Your excuses are invalid." How about fuck yeah? People like this continue to inspire me. People like this remind me there is nothing wrong with being in the gym 5 days a week, waking up sore every morning, and moving around more weight that most men. But these are the things, I'm hesitant to admit. As if there is something wrong with me because I love it this much. Because it brings out the best in me. Sure, it will wear on my body, but so will sitting on the fucking couch and eating whatever the fuck I want.... I'd rather go out in the gym with a bar in my hand.


With Grace & Gratitude...

Morning Tea & Scribbles

The last couple blogs I've written, I've not finished, therefore not published. How could I publish something that just stops. Like SKEERT. Done. Like you just walk off the edge of a cliff, it's over. Maybe it's because I'm warming back up again. Feels like winter today. I have my tea. I've pulled some cards. Nothing to exciting or focused. Just feeling. I wrote yesterday about being on a low-carb, low-sugar diet. Today I thought about writing something about what my cards said, eh that didn't feel right either. What are the things in my life I tend to write about? What things in my life could I also write about? I tend to write about spirituality and spiritual experiences. I'm very intuitive, an energy worker, and I somehow often find myself guiding others along their own path. Always seems to be something to inspire a blog. I often write about weight-loss, working out, just being healthier in general. I found that to be extremely beneficial. Sobriety. Although by AA standards, I would not be considered "sober" for over 5 years, my getting sober in March of 2008 was one of the biggest milestones in my life. I've written a lot about love when I was searching for it and I found the journey of it exhausting and  frustrating, but now not so much. I should though, I'm very grateful for the love I share with my other half. We've spent the last year and a half growing together and building a life that both of us love. I appreciate her, and I'm constantly amazed at how things unravel for us. For many years writing was a way to vent. To let out the thoughts and feelings that were seemed unstoppable inside of me. A release. Some people found them humorous & helpful so I began my blog. For another several years I wrote sharing my experiences in a very raw fashion with the thought that we as people helped each other to heal by being open about our struggles and shortcomings. Being open and raw with someone or many people, often opened the door for them to do the same allowing healing for all. I wrote my blogs, like I talked at the tables of AA. At this point, my life is not chaotic, I process things much more quickly. I also feel a bit more private and I'm not exactly sure how I feel about that, maybe I'm just growing up? My life now is fun and still quite interesting, but I'm used to connecting with people through shared pain. And my life doesn't reside there anymore. It's been a new adventure for me to connect with others over other similarities. I guess my writing has reflected that. Seems a bit less passionate, well let me use the word intense. I flounder as I feel the yearning to write, but struggle to know about what. Seems I'm tired about writing about myself, I definitely feel the shift happening, just trying to feel out which way it's going. Because I haven't written about much this morning, but let me tell you... it felt amazing to be here.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Deserve What?

"I deserve it."

I've been on a low-carb, low-sugar diet for a few weeks now; aiming for under 100g/day, usually falling between 100-150g/day. I'm okay with that. From what I gathered from my Google research, under 100g is what people who are trying to loose weight consume. Well, that's exactly what I'm doing, so I'll take it. ESPECIALLY since, I looked back on my myfitnesspal for the last three months and saw that I had been consuming between 2500-400g/day. 150 seemed like a very reasonable place to start. I stay away from all white breads, pastas, etc. No potatoes, no starchy veggies, and limit my intake of fruit. (Although when I'm really craving something sweet, fruit is a hell of a lot better than chocolate covered raisins or twix bars. I'll take the fruit, thank you). Carbohydrates are an absolute necessity in the diet and cannot be realistically completely avoided. Well... unless you want to send your body into a hypoglycemic like state and damage your kidneys among many other things I'm sure. I've increased my protein and veggies. It's working for me. I feel a huge difference. I'm not nearly as bloated, and I'm loosing weight while maintaining my strength. I've also been sticking to 3 cardio days a week now, along with my 3 days of lifting. So, I'm sure that is helping with my weight loss. They say "you can't work your way out of a bad diet" & "Getting fit happens in the gym, getting thin happens in the kitchen." There's truth to that.

Three days ago I decided I deserved some Pizza Hut. I trimmed a little metaphysical fat off my total indulgence and ordered, thin crust pizza and some boneless chicken wings to add protein so I wouldn't be hungry later. All together (yes, I looked it up before) I consumed just about 100g of carbs in one meal. For the entire day it wasn't much more than that, because I considered that my cheat meal, and did my best to consume virtually NO other carbs that day. Fine. I enjoyed every bite and left without a singe ounce of guilt. You are suppose to have a cheat day, and besides, I did at-least skip on desert! Bad thing is the next day... I had nachos and cake. Then the day after that (last night) I had actual bread. Besides, I had been doing REALLY well, and it was date night and I was fine dining, and the oil is good for me... lol

But what I really deserved, was the goal I have been working towards. That feeling of freedom & pride, increased energy, & healthier body and mind. I had to remind myself of that, to feel that energy and put my focus there. Because what we focus on, is exactly what we get. Don't believe it? Watch your thoughts. What are you focusing on? Really. There is a difference between what you want and what your focus is. I may want to clean house all day, but if I keep thinking, "I'm never gonna get to this house today." I won't. Shit will still be exactly where it was when I woke up ;)

My Own Responsibility

"Judge and prepare to be judged."

I wish I would have counted the times I've heard that over the last 3-4 days. Obviously something Spirit would like me to work on. I'm guilty. I judge others. I compare myself to others. Maybe its my competitive nature. Maybe it something I should stop doing. Although, the line isn't saying that judging is a bad thing, it's just saying I had better be prepared for the same sentiment. Which, I'm not so sure I am. I can handle the truth. I can handle people's verbalized opinions. What I do tend to struggle with is my wildly overactive imagination that tells me all the things they probably are thinking, but are most likely, not. I worry what other people think about me and what I'm doing. Guess I could have saved myself 7 lines or so and just said that, but then it wouldn't be much of a blog then would it?

The beginning of June I changed my fitness goals. Signing up for my first power-lifting competition in September, the goal became to "see how much weight we could put on me." And I have, although I'm definitely the strongest I've ever been. My goals are changing after the competition. I'm ready to start slimming down again. More cardio, less muscle building. More of a muscle maintaining. The plan is to keep my lifts heavy three times a week, and after lifting it is my own responsibility to work through a cross-fit type routine. My current trainer doesn't do cross-fit, and up until this year, that's pretty much all I did. I have 3 years of cross-fit training experience. So guess what? The universe is a gracious and loyal teacher. It is up to me to come up with or find cross-fit workouts and execute them on my own, without a trainer standing beside me holding my hand, telling me what to do and taking the pressure of myself. They've never been my workouts, someone else has always put them together for me. I've always had someone else to whine to, to give dirty looks too, to help me combat the internal dialogue that tries to convince it's okay to slow down, or extend that rest for 15 seconds or "change the routine" halfway through because it's "too hard." A trainer has always provided for me a sense of confidence in myself that I've had difficulty finding on my own in the gym. Something tells me that has to do with trusting myself  & integrity. I'm nervous. There's fear. A sense of vulnerability. A lack of confidence in myself to come up with my own workouts, that beginners trail & error which will test my patience, my dedication, and my endurance.  But what growth is there in refusing to change? None. Fuck.

So either I can stop judging those people in the gym, that are in there doing what I only wish I had the courage to do at the moment OR I can step up and take full responsibility for my workouts and do something I don't mind people judging. It's my choice, and it's about where I'm choosing to focus my energies. By not judging them I free myself from the fear of being judged which allows me a new courage to take that first step in doing what I know I need to do.


With Grace & Gratitude...

Beautiful Butch

...those are the words that have rattled around in my head for the last few weeks. A gradual realization & acceptance that I am a little butchier than I've often wanted to admit. There was an immediate relief in my efforts to be more feminine just after coming out. Realizing that I was gay, allowed me to be more comfortable with my masculine side. More specifically, it alleviated the pressure for me to accessorize my outfits, to be the pursued and not the pursuer, to keep my short hair cut "soft", to wear more eye makeup or buy lots of shoes that I didn't particularly like, etc. I thought about the gym today and how much I loved it. How I've loved it since day one. Why? I'm sure there are several reasons, but one of the big ones being that I can be masculine. I can be tough, and cuss and crass. I can throw heavy shit around and not worry about being cute or dainty or feminine. It is expected to get dirty and look ugly. Working hard isn't pretty. It alleviated that pressure of having to put energy into showing my feminine side because I was a woman and had these stereotypical perceptions of what I needed be to function in heterosexual relationships. Because anyone who knows me, knows my relationship history with men was a struggle. I always felt out of place, like I was doing something wrong. It never felt right; deep inside I knew I was being someone I wasn't. Thank God, I finally came out.

But even in the beginning, I still wanted to be more feminine than my female partner. It has taken some time for me to unravel the habits of quieting my masculine tendencies, and have the courage to admit they are there. The truth is, I might just be a little more masculine than my partner. I just might be a little butchier than she is. Sure, I wear the make up, but believe me it isn't much. I'm the one that puts up the mini-blinds, I usually drive when we go places, I like to dote on her and take care of her. I've got about 5 inches and 100lbs on her, I spend at-least 6 hours a week in the gym most of it weight-lifting. I put in the air-conditioners and assemble the shit that comes in boxes. And if we were out separately, I'm way more likely to be tagged as a lesbian that she. I write all this because it makes me giggle a little. These are the things that have rumbled around in my head. Things that whisper, hey dot, your kinda butchy, and you know it. I find this lifestyle fascinating. From the varying dynamics in different lesbian relationships, the different "types" of lesbians, to all you learn by simply living this lifestyle... the lingo, the obstacles, and the laws that prevent us from having some of the rights I took for granted for so long. Sometimes, yes, I still feel there is so much I don't know but I'm learning. I often ask questions and read a lot of blogs. But there are a few things I do know for sure... I've been gay my entire life, I was lucky enough to find my life partner shortly after coming out, and I've never felt this comfortable in my own skin. If someone asked me what type of lesbian I am, I'd tell them a beautiful butch :)

With Grace & Gratitude...

With Grace

For those of you who don't know, I'm a Hospice nurse. And although I said this is were I'd be at the end of my career, God had another plan. Last winter I had the son of a patient who had just taken her last breath ask me, "How do you do this work day in and day out?" without thought or hesitation I said, "with grace." The response alone shifted something inside of me, as if it didn't even come from me. It was absolutely true, and I knew it.

That is how I do this work, day in and day out. I really do love it. There is something beautiful about being there for someone or multiple someones during such a delicate time. Grace implies fluidity, calm, and simply being present. With that being said... the other night I had a patient that required visits every 2 hours. He was 30 minutes from my house, so it seemed pointless to drive back and forth. 30 minutes in the visit, 30 minutes home, that's only 30 min at home until I needed to drive back. Not gonna lie, I bitched. I spent the first few hours of my shift dreading & bitching. I wasn't going to get ANY sleep! Can't we break the visits up with someone else? What am I going to do between visits? Not much grace in that. Between 12:30 and 7:30am I spent all but about an hour with that family. I sat next to his bed, listening to him breathe, which was the only thing he was doing at this point, and watched a movie with his daughter. I gave his medicine every hour on the dot, then every 30 min. His 80 year old wife was finally asleep after 3 days of being at his bedside, and I sat there in the stillness waiting to know when to wake her so she could be there when he took his last breath. Fifty minutes after something nudged me and said it was time, she held her husband as he did just that with their children and his brother beside him. Sometimes, you can't help but to cry with them. It changes you. 

It never fails, when you are exactly where God wants you to be, you have everything you need. I wasn't tired, I wasn't anxious or trying to leave, and I wasn't even remotely bitter for having to be there. I wanted to be there. The families are always so very grateful. It's obvious that you have helped ease their pain in some way. I've always said I do my best work here, at the end of their life. Where the two worlds meet. Where someone in my care lingers between life and death and their loved ones are caught in the middle. It is here that nothing but grace flows through me and I simply serve. What an honor to be part of such an intimate moment in someone's journey.

To those moments when you know you are exactly where you are suppose to be and posses the willingness to be there. 

With Grace & Gratitude...

The Sacred Union & The Queen of the Light

... those are the cards I pulled today.

I've been pulling cards more so lately. A remembering of how much I enjoy and need my daily dose of spirituality. Time to ground & connect. Even if only for a very short time. The cards went on to say that I am on the right path and rewards for my perseverance and willingness to learn where on there way. My focus for today was to be grateful & accepting. I can do that. I'm always a student; I am always learning. We all are, although some of us fight the role of student as if it has some demeaning context, insinuates that we are ignorant in some fashion, or denotes a dependence of which some of us struggle. Perception. I find myself to be the most humble & most open when I welcome the energy of the student. I'm calm. Teacher & student role occur simultaneously; you cannot be one without the other. We naturally & often unconsciously go out and teach what we have learned. The Sacred Union. An alliance of Heaven & earth, of partnership, of relationships of all kinds. The Union of the Divine & human; the masculine & feminine. My focus with this card is to be aware of the gifts bestowed upon me through the partnerships that have come to be in my life. I can do that also.

I was part of a healing session today. A lady who got in touch with me saying I was "highly recommended" and asked about what I charge. She was told I sometimes do "love-offerings" which are not always monetary. They can be, and it's whatever the person is able to give, but it doesn't have to be. After her session today, I decided, love-offering is what I will always charge. I am blessed with a well-paying job I love, and hours that love me. What more could I ask for? I was given the gift of healing. If I want more love in the world, I need to do things that cultivate that. Love offerings. That's what I charge, all the time.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Sometimes I Just Ramble

I sat in a tree tonight watching the wind blow through it's branches as if they were dancing. The energy was interesting. Almost as if they only thing to do was to reflect. Yet there wasn't any specific aspect of my life to reflect upon. Maybe I am just rambling right now, and maybe I need too. It's been quite some time since I've written anything substantial, anything I would post and share. I've wondered if my muse has been quieted. I can write here and now with whatever comes, just to begin to feed that creative spark again. The love of my life is sitting next to me. On her own computer, doing her own thing. Not sure if we've done this before. If I were to say that she'd probably say of course we have, you just don't remember. Jesus, I just want to write. It feels like fall out, and it's July 1st. I've been pulling cards lately about how I perceive others. about quiet, compassion, stillness. The last two were about tithing. Not so much monetary tithing, but tithing none the less. Selflessness. I'm learning that, it isn't exactly my strong point. WTF is up with my eyebrow? The area just over my right eye has been twitching on and off all day. Weird. I have to admit, I don't think I've ever just let someone sit in my space as I typed, rambled about .... useless fragments of my mind. Yoga has been quite the enlightening experience lately, although I guess that's what it's suppose to do right? It is about linking the mind, body and spirit. Anywho. "I trust you." I heard that last week in yoga. For the first time in my life, I went into asana and instead of my mind and my body arguing about whether or not it was a good idea to go deeper into that pose, I heard, "I trust you." That's huge. Somewhere along the lines, along this path I traveled, I have learned to trust myself, on some level, some part of me... trusts me. I'm not so sure I ever thought that would happen, and not so sure I was even working on it. Maybe THAT is a prime and beautiful example of "doing nothing and everything gets done." The art of non-doing. I really like having her here. So close, but not not involved directly in what I"m doing. Just hanging out in my space being her. She talks to the cat. And and the dog for that matter in this adorable voice that, without fail, makes me smile every single time. What inspires me? She asked me that when we first met. What inspires me? People who change. People who fight hard and come out on top, people who don't quit. Sometimes fighting hard isn't physical, it's just breathing quietly while something happens that you know is not yours to deal with. The other day I sat quietly and asked the universe what my purpose was, I asked for a vision of my life and what I was suppose to do with it. Usually, I asked that question assuming I already know the answer. Not that time. I asked without any expectation. I'm still waiting though. Open, aware, & waiting. What IS my life purpose? What  is God's plan for me? And where does it meet with mine, if at all? I'm sure selfliss giving is in there somewhere. What are my gifts? And how can I best utilize them? If I had to answer that question right now I'd say, the gift of healing & the gift of communication. When all is aligned within this writer within me, I'm pretty poetic. I'm pretty good at expanding people's mind and touching them on a deep level. This particular piece of probably does an extremely poor job of depicting that, but... gotta re-start somewhere right? Cause I miss this shit. It's like a breath of fresh air. A vent opened in the top of my skull allowing this endless array of yakity yak to go somewhere. It's getting late, my girl is getting sleepy,and I feel I've somehow achieved what I set out to do somehwere around 20min ago. May it be only the beginning of what's next.

With Grace & Gratititude...

Scars

"Even scars fade..."

Despite popular belief. Scars are not forever. They do fade. They soften. They slowly begin to blend back in with the rest of who we are. We talk as if they are forever, as if nothing new can grow there, or they will remain forever so obvious that if anyone gets close enough, our biggest hurts will be put on display. So what do we do? We hide them. We spend energy attempting to somehow camouflage them, OR we flaunt them to show the world how tough we are, where we've been, and where we'd like the world to believe we aren't afraid to go. We speak of the "scars on our hearts" that will apparently debunk every other heart related experience we could ever possibly have. We attach meaning, weight, significance and you can literally watch someone's face change as the subject arises. I'm here to assure you... those scars don't last forever. Sure the deeper one's may take a few years to lighten and soften but they will, both the physical and emotional ones...

Stepping Outside of Myself

Since it has been some time since I've written what I would consider a good & decent blog, my creative spark is taking few moments to really begin to burn. My sole purpose here today is to help re-ignite my creativity, which I've felt has almost been blown out in my steps in balancing out my life over the past year. A full cycle has come to pass. I moved here to the Lansing area a year ago this week. The foundation of which I built my life upon in the 4 years prior shifted, dramatically. The 4 years prior had been about ME. All about me. I got sober, I was in nursing school, I left AA, I quit smoking, I lost weight. I set out on a journey to fix me, get to know me, better me, & love me. And I did. All of the things in my life that helped me to do all of this, seemed to *poof* leave my life with a single truck load of things, my cat, and my plants as the decision was made on a Thursday afternoon to start something new, with someone else, somewhere else. Here I was 2 hours away from everything that helped keep me stay grounded over the last 4 years; no gym, no yoga, no uncle, no sober friends who had walked the journey with me. With the same fervor I used to better me, I began pouring everything I knew about who I was & life in general into this relationship I came here for. After all, it was something I had never experienced. A committed? Healthy? Loving relationship?! What was that?!?! 5 years ago I couldn't even fathom what that was like. It was something that required all of me for it to grow. And it has. I finally understand contentment. I finally live in the sweet spot I have searching for my entire life. Here is balance, and most significantly, it's not about me anymore.

So herein lies my work.

I've realized that over the last 5 years, I could have been a much better friend. I could have been a much better daughter, niece, sister, cousin, & girlfriend. I have always considered myself extremely blessed in the area of friends. God has always put the most amazing people in my life, and I have allowed them to feel less than important. I have allowed them to fade out of my life because of my inability to show them how much they meant to me through my actions. I've begun the journey of stepping outside of myself. Of rebuilding what can still be re-built. This is not self-pity; I did that weeks ago. This is an acknowledgment of a weakness, a bringing of the darkness into the Light. Whereas I have attacked many areas of my life with determination and gusto; this one requires patience, gentleness, humility, & grace. It requires an understanding that it is not in my control, I can simply give without expectation, as many have given to me. This is my apology. This is my thank you. You all know who you are. 

With Grace & Gratitude...

Dot

Confessions of an Aspiring Power-lifter

I say confession because my love of power-lifting isn't something I really express to people outside of those who I train with in the gym. Burkey knows. Tracy is finding out. My girlfriend & a few others may have a pretty good idea. It's not something I feel comfortable showing to many people, people who don't get it. People who have never had there hands wrapped around that bar and pushed themselves to the limits few will. I fucking love it. I love everything about it. I lay in bed at night and wonder what my PR's are now. how the training I've been doing with Tracy (who is a pro power-lifter) is preparing me for the next phase of my journey, and replay the days workout in my head... what could I have done differently? Could I have pushed myself more? Did I work smart? Am I satisfied with where I'm at?  What was my diet like today?  I touch the calluses on my hands in admiration, a sense of pride. I admire hard work. I admire people who don't give up even when it hurts, when they want to, when everyone around them is telling them it's okay to give up. I love training. I've been training for almost 4 years now, for nothing more than the ability to do a pull up, loose some weight, be able to pull myself over the walls at the warrior dash. I've trained really hard for seemingly small things, lol. When I'm entirely honest with myself, let's face it... I just like to train. Any excuse will do for me, I like to life heavy things, I like to be strong. I love to push myself to the limits. It strengthens me on all levels. It grounds me and teaches me about life, about how I react to life. It. Makes. Me. Happy.

Power-lifting just seems like the next logical step...

Are You Fucking Kidding Me!?

I read an article about a week ago in Shape Magazine that has since rolled around in my head picking at my muse... "How one woman overcomes tragedy and creates the life she's always wanted." 

I thought, INSPIRATION! I love stories of inspiration, who doesn't?! There's something beautiful & gracious about overcoming adversities, about determination & sacrifice. I was quickly disappointed to discover the article, wasn't in fact about any of that. It was about "combo-pilling" which means taking two different kinds of "fat-burners" or diet pills. Specifically Zantrex-3 and Relacore, and was suggest by her personal trainer! I shook my head. What is this telling people? My immediate thoughts consisted of what a shitty trainer, her heart is going to explode, she didn't overcome ANYTHING nor did she create anything, it was created for her. No deep rooted issues were addressed, there was no sacrifice, She will be right back where she started in only in worse health and more frustrated. I saw a giving up. I saw weakness. I saw another fat American claim that life was too hard, and it promoted by a source that I look to, (among others) for ideas to stay healthy and fit safely. To say I was disappointed, doesn't even cover it. So there, there's my rant.

My Two Cents on Gay Marriage

I feel compelled to touch on the issue of gay marriage.  It's difficult for me to wrap my head around the fact that this is still an issue. I forget sometimes that it is still illegal in most states for people in love of the same sex to marry. It blows my mind. The falling leg that so many are still trying to stand on is literally crumbling, and it's palpable. You can feel it. You can hear it in the shaky-ness of the voices on CNN "uh, well... um..." What?! Really?! The arguable reasons attempting to slow down this process have no sustenance. I mean c'mon! Gay people have been getting married for a few years now! IT'S HAPPENING. Right now. At this very moment, I'm sure somewhere a gay couple are taking vows of marriage. So what is the hold up? What are they fighting against? It's a body in motion, and physics states a body in motion, stays in motion. It's funny to me. All these legalities. And the thing is... it's not even about gay marriage. It's about change. It is a blatant representation of people's unwillingness to change. And I don't mean the generic "change" of a word that has been thrown around carelessly at times in our nation's history in the name of political or presidential votes, I'm talking about gut, energetic, shifts of energy inside the hearts and minds of people. Not just American's, of people. We use titles and descriptions and classes and continue to separate ourselves from each other. We have gays and straights, and blacks and whites, and men and woman, and American's and Europeans.... and countless subcultures. The sooner we realize, actually the sooner it is accepted that we all are connected in an intricate and dependent fashion, the sooner the world and all the people in in can truly begin to heal.

I get it. I can be stubborn too. And it I have been known to fight until I wear my little self out. Until I'm exhausted and done, and acceptance is all that is left. And that is what some are doing right now, they are wearing their little selves out. The old ways aren't working anymore. It's so simple, some are attempting to do the same things over and over again, call it different things and are expecting different results. It doesn't work like that. lol Love in all forms WILL prevail. "Love is patient, love is kind." Love is slowly and patiently coming to forefront, and won't hurt anyone on it's way there. Except maybe some ego's as it's illusion of control fade like smoke in a room.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Inspired

"To the extent that the person you were will effect who you are; it already has."

If that doesn't make sense, which it may not... let me break it down for you. I told that to a very dear who had been sober for somewhere around 6 years, I think I little longer. Someone who also felt the draw to remove themselves from the traditional 12 step programs and live her life, taking what she learned and left. I can relate to that. The thing about her though, is she done the work. She did. Some people can be in that program for 15 years, and still never do the work, the real work. The work that is required to make a radical change in who you are and the life that you are living. They will find themselves continuously re-living in the past in the name of "never forgetting your last drunk or your doomed to re-peat it" mindset. Don't get me wrong, the 12 steps of alcoholics anonymous had a dramatic positive impact on my life, but when it was done, it was done. It had served its purpose, and like my friend... I walked away. I went against the grain. We both went against the grain. And when our worlds didn't collapse, when we weren't found in a drunken stupor begging for help and forgiveness having exploded and taken out everyone around us... it challenged everything so many had been taught about "the program." And it scares them. To the extent that the person you were will effect who you are; it already has simply means, yes, the person she was has shaped her into the person she is now, but in a good way. She has done the work to re-balance that, to counter-act that if you will. That person, who she was, has already created the change within her it was suppose to, and she can let it go now. She can root completely in the person she is now, and move forward. And as always, with gratitude.

THESE are one of the kinds of people who truly inspire me. People who change. Who come like a Phoenix from the flames. Those who trust enough to step out on faith. To take chances. To risk everything they ever believed to be true about their life, for the possibility, that they can live the life they've always dreamt of living. Those who do things even though they are afraid, who burst in the darkest parts of who they are with a willingness and readiness to not leave until all is Light. People who beat the odds, and not because they set out to do so, but because they remained true to themselves. I admire these people and so grateful to  be able to call many of them friends.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Home Again, Home Again Jigitty Jig

"You need to find your own purpose, I cannot build desire."

I've found my gym. I knew it the moment I saw that quote. I walked around it today slowly, purposefully. It was that same "home" feeling I got when I found my yoga studio here in the Lansing area. Like I could breathe again.  I felt humbled, and grateful and tearful. There's something about privately owned and run gyms that inspire me. When flat screen TV's don't cover the walls, pretty things aren't the focus. The basics are there, in working condition. Nothing to distract you from the work it takes to reach your goals. A dusty radio in the corner with an ipod/phone hook-up that looks like it might work, a drop box for payments if you want to buy something, and cardio equipment that has definitely already seen it's best days. There's something demanding of rows of free weights, racks of barbells, and a room specifically designed and dedicated to maxing out, to creating your personal record (at-least that's the way it appeared). I stood the longest in that room. You could feel the pride, the dedication, the excitement. I felt relief. I was inspired to be on that board. Motivated to prove myself to someone who didn't know me through my actions instead of talking a lot of shit about the things "I used to do" before I moved to Lansing. I've lost a little bit of my cockiness as it pertains to the gym and training; 25lbs will do that too you. I miss lifting really heavy things. I didn't do much today. I got my ass on three treadmills before I found one I didn't think was going to throw me off because I just wanted to take it all in. I wanted to bathe myself in this place, a place which was already mimicking some of the things I value most in training. Grateful doesn't begin to describe what I felt in that moment. I saw a no bullshit attitude. I saw hard work and I saw trust. I saw me at 180lbs.

PS- Maybe the universe was trying to tell me something as it was continuously denying my access to the old gym... smh

With Grace & Gratitude

Mad Enough To Act

"If I get denied access to the gym one more fucking time today I'm gonna scream!!!"

My text to B Murphy in my midnight rage. One of the few people who A) would be up this late, B) Have any idea what I was even talking about, and C) would have some ability to relate. I was pissed. This was the third day in a row I was denied access to the gym because my debit card was changed. I MADE sure to get a hold of the office before it closed today so I could take my ass in there tonight, and yet again... a split second green flash followed by a long drawn out red flash escorted by an undeniable, wretched beep. If there had been a computer beep translator there, I'm certain it would have said... "DENIED. Go home Ms. Hollingsworth, be thankful you passed on the cinnamon roll and garlic chicken. Be proud for asking the waitress to take away the cracker bowel before you un-conscious consumed all of them simply because they were there and might wanna take your ass to yoga tomorrow." Yes. That's how long that beep was, and exactly what it said to me.

I thought today about anger and pain (mostly anger) and how I have used both to push me my entire life, to achieve my goals and what to do now that neither are a driving force. I decided I was pissed, and I was okay with that. Because maybe I had finally gotten to the point where I was mad enough to do something. Because the whole "be easy on yourself" was getting me heavier. As I walked in my front door tonight inspired and angered, already writing my blog in my mind the word complacency popped into my head. Complacency; defined as, "self-satisfaction especially when accompanied by unawareness of actual dangers or deficiencies." When we loose our conscious awareness of the dangers lurking when we stop doing what we're doing. I had become complacent. I was taken back to my days in recovery when the alcoholics would end up drinking again because they became complacent and stopped going to meetings and working the steps. When I hit my -100 lbs a year ago February, I became complacent. On some level, I felt I had achieved my goal, I went easier on myself. I could feel myself more whole because of the work I had done in that gym. I've slowly watched myself gain over 20lbs since last year this time. The jeans I almost gave away because they were too big, are snug again, a vicious reminder of where I was and where I am now. For months I've allowed people to tell me it's alright. It's okay that I've gained a little weight, I still look great and I'm happy. My girlfriend still finds me insanely attractive and was "honestly, happy [I] gained a little weight."  Who the FUCK am I kidding? Who cares what they think. This was never for them anyway! This has always been for me. Anyone else's opinions of what I do in the gym and why I do it are irrelevant. I am done listening to people tell me that I work out too hard, I push myself too much, I'm too hard on my body. For the first time, I saw myself at my goal weight, I saw how solid I looked. Before I couldn't see it, I relied on other's belief in me, I relied on their vision of what I could do to give me the faith I needed to keep me going day after day. I had to trust what they saw, because I couldn't see it, yet. If there's one thing I've learned over the last year is that to comprise one's needs is a denial of the self. I need that gym; I need to push myself physically, mentally, and emotionally. My body, mind, and spirit need clean, wholesome foods. Why? Because that is the safest thing to date that I've found that keeps me grounded, centered, and balance. I love it. It's empowering, it's liberating, and allots me a freedom that few other things can and connects me to my most truest self. I will not live a boring life. That's not who I am nor what I was born to do. I live my life in a way to connect and inspire others...it seems anger and passion burn from the same flame with only a slight variation in color.

With Grace & Gratitude...

Almost Angry

I spent the first 3 years of my weight loss burning more calories a week than most humans consume.  (okay, maybe that's slightly exaggerated, but I really liked that line! it was around 3-5 thousand calories...) and weight loss was easy. I ate whatever I wanted as long as it was "worth it." I would equate in my had what it would feel like to burn that many calories and eat it if I was willing to work it off. Well, things have changed. And yes, of course I did learn to stop when I was full, learn how to make better choices, and eat more consciously, but the universe had been trying to tell me since February that it was seriously time to look at my diet, and not expect my workout routines to always be enough to burn what I still allowed myself to over eat. So when I moved in May and left my gym, my yoga studio, my trainer, and fell in love... I watched myself steadily gain about 4-8lbs a month. At this very moment,  I'm sitting at 238lbs, I was 214 the last time I stepped on the scale at Anytime Fitness in Roseville, MI. There's always a lesson, our weight has a story, and what I learned from mine is that it's really time I take charge and train myself, I know what I'm doing, I wasn't admitting I didn't like my job, and my old workout/eating plans no longer worked for me. Attempting to recreate them here was exhausting and didn't feel right. I was a different person and needed to focus on my diet more. I needed to put more time and energy into eating a more fresh fruit/veggie organic diet that I had come to crave. The frozen Kashi meals only work for so long. I was sharing my daily life with another person, and had to take them into account. It was time to create a workout routine on my own and go execute it, and I'm doing all that, slowly and steadily just like I did when I first started and it took all I had to get up before noon and walk to the end of the road and back.

Pain & Music

MAYBE, I should actually write these blogs when the inspiration initially hits. I've been inspired to write this blog for ATLEAST 4 days now, and now that I'm here, It's taking me a few moments to gather the tid-bits of clarity and moments of definition & explanation leading me, here. And this is not the first time it's happened... so here goes...

I've spent the last probably 2 weeks, listening and watching as it became apparent to me the universe was very delicately revealing to me insight into people's relation and perception of pain and it's tie to music, including my own. I was walking on the treadmill the other day and hit shuffle on my media player only to hear song after song of this sense of longing and sadness, I thought, "My god! Was I really that sad?!?!" flashing me back to moments of blaring the song driving down the road because an ex couldn't give me what I wanted or lying on my bedroom floor sobbing with the same song on repeat flailing about in my broken heartedness. Almost every single song had a tie to a particular person or situation which I instantly began to re-live on some level within the first 10 seconds. So why do this to myself? Why do we do this to ourselves? We put so much emphasize on music and our mood and it's accuracy in depicting what we're feeling or where we've been, and it seems the more painful, the more we can relate. And yet, they are some of our "favorite" songs??? It seemed so simple and so silly to me. Apparently on some level I was still holding on to some of that pain. It was hiding, but was still there lingering. It seems so silly to me because the freedom I've created for myself over the last 5 years has lead me to a life I truly enjoy every moment of every day. I am finally content. So I went through and  deleted over 90 songs, songs that took me to places, I simply didn't want to go anymore.

We all do this. We use music as a vessel to take us back to various places, if we are taking ourselves back to to place of pain we need to ask ourselves why? For some of us, pain has become a centralized theme in our lives and we find it comforting and normal. But its up to us to break that pattern, to logically understand that we have built a relationship with pain that no longer needs to be there, and create new behaviors that will in turn lead to new thoughts, new habits, and a life where pain doesn't have to be present for us to feel comfortable. It's a process, and it takes courage and willingness to go into the unknown. I believe everyone can change, everything changes all the time. People are no exception. So if you find yourself re-living pain through music, start small... choose a new favorite song. One that inspires you, that uplifts you, one that reflects the life you want, not the one you've had.

With Grace & Gratitude....

Learn From Lyrics

"And I don't blame ya dear for running like you did, all these years, I would do the same you best believe..." Stubborn Love, The Lumineers

Nothing transforms us as quickly as pain. And for those of us where pain has been a central theme, we find ourselves building a tolerance to it. It becomes... less uncomfortable. And when the pain is no longer there, we aren't quite sure what to do with ourselves, and sometimes, subconsciously seek to re-create our comfort zone. And sometimes with the music we listen too. I love music, and I know at any given moment, the song I cannot get enough of will tell me something about myself. The songs we "relate" too, tell us something about ourselves, tell other people something about us. Why do we love it so much? What does it do for us? What is it telling us? "And I don't blame you dear for running like you did, all these years, I would do the same you best believe..." Why do I relate to that? Because THAT'S WHAT I DID! FOR YEARSSS. duh. But why listen to it over and over? The past few weeks I have watched the universe very delicately bring up this question, in many different forms. I asked why so many lesbians listen to Ani Difranco and the response I got was "Because she looks like a lesbian and she sings about pain." Made sense.

So what do you relate to? What are your favorite songs, favorite lines? Write it out, and learn something about yourself. I love music. I don't know where I'd be without it! Loving the lyric above tells me that I've forgiven myself for running, for hiding. It tells me that I'm not ashamed anymore, that I accept myself and where I've been, and in the place of anger, I now harbor compassion for myself. :)

No.

"Sometimes you just have to tell yourself no."'

Sometimes we just do. I wanted Tim Horton's yesterday for lunch, which I knew at least a couple things about allowing myself to go there a) the sandwich I wanted was about 700 calories, b) my body doesn't tolerate coffee well these days, c) I already had plans to overeat today, and was going to do so joyfully, because pizza hut is amazing and I refuse to deprive myself of any of the things that I truly enjoy, these instances I practice moderation....  SO, knowing these things I decided that you know what, sometimes we just need to tell ourselves no, lovingly like we would tell our child who wants to eat too much candy before bed, or our best friend who wants to make that compulsive phone call to their ex. I personally don't like to hear the word no. I don't like to be told no, I remembered that yesterday. I quit my job 3 years ago because the scheduler told me I couldn't switch floors, and said "NO" with an attitude, so not only did I not want to hear it, I didn't want to hear it from her, cause who the fuck was she anyways??? So it was either setting my keys down on the counter walking out or jumping over it and punching her in the face. THAT'S how much I've hated to be told no. But yesterday, a grace came with the word. A loving, supportive, encouraging, no. And I asked myself what was a better choice I could make? I ended up eating less than 500 calories for lunch sandwich, chips, and drink included. Thank God for that. We can make a choice every day, to be our own worse enemy or our best friend. It's about conscious choices. Of asking ourselves, is this worth it, taking a deep breathe then re-asking ourselves because sometimes we can spit out a quick, not-so-true yes as our hands are in route to our mouths with chocolate or burgers or whatever in tow, followed by guilt and a vicious cycle.

I look back on where I was in July of 2009 and all of the people God put in my path to help me get to where I am now. They were all exactly what I needed when I was working with them....from trainers, to hypnotherapists, to yoga teachers, different gyms, workout buddies, energy healers. To Jonathan Stevens, Jack Dugger, Billie Tobin, Pat Hill & all the yogi's at Bodhi Seed Yoga, Chris Burkeybyle and the station, Andrea and anytime fitness, B Murphy!, and everyone else who played a part in my journey, THANK YOU.... maybe the biggest lesson of 2012 was learning to tell myself  no, yes, good job, go to the gym, don't quit, sure you want to eat that? etc because sometimes I need to hear it, and none of you are here to say it...

"To know when to bend and when to leap- when to bow out and when to hurl our passions like buckets of pain across a stage..." - b