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...