Posts Tagged With: truest self

feeling hopeful with Plato

Last week I read about someone’s journey as they do the work of self. I read about how they faltered, how the work is so much harder when the pain becomes so great they need to escape it. Oftentimes that involves crawling to the bottom of a bottle.
This got me thinking…
The pain is so great that stopping seems the only answer. The problem there is the constant stopping and starting again only serves the cycle of pain, and actually makes it worse.
By stopping the hard work of self when it becomes difficult or painful, it becomes even harder to begin again each time.
I believe working through the pain when it seems most difficult and unbearable is better for you. The only way out is through. And when you come out the other side, the pain is less acute, and you find it easier to breathe for a while.

I think it can be something as simple as learning yourself. Knowing your triggers. Knowing that at some point you’re going to feel so much pain you simply cannot go on. What you do then is how successful you’ll be on that journey.

Knowing oneself can be the most powerful tool in one’s bag
I do believe it’s as simple as that.
To know who you are.
To know why you are.
To be able to look at your choices and realize why you made them.
So many people can’t actually do that!
You’re where you are because of every single choice you’ve ever made. Sometimes choices are unconsciously made. We often ‘autopilot’ through our days.

What seems normal to you isn’t to someone who didn’t live your experiences. Those normal-seeming things create the way you view life, the way you move through life. How you treat others, how you permit others to treat you.
If your upbringing is skewed, your idea of normal is equally skewed.
Therefore, you behave, and accept others behavior based upon these norms.
Sometimes it isn’t until you have some life under your belt that you learn to see things from all perspectives…and then you realize your sense of normal is not, in fact, normal.

For some that happens sooner in life, for some later.
Working out those kinks is a tricky situation. And you’re bound to falter occasionally.
Figuring out who you actually are, who you want to be, and how to do that without taking into account all that seemingly normal…
You’re on a dark and difficult path. You’re going to fall. You’re going to get the shit kicked out of you, even if you’re actually kicking the shit out of yourself.
But, there is precious learning in this journey. And when you decide who you are based upon your own truth, and work to become that with every fiber of your being, it will be so worth it.

At least that’s my experience.
I’m on that journey, perhaps I’m further along than some, less than others. Perhaps I realized sooner, or later, or through different pain, that the seemingly normal was not at all right.
I’ve fought tooth and nail to get where I am in my own personal development. I’ve faltered. I’ve fallen. I’ve temporarily given up. But I get back up dust myself off and keep working.

The me I am now is nothing like the me they taught me to be.
I am the gift I gave myself.
The most sacred and precious gift of my life.

It’s the hardest work I’ve ever done.
And I cried.
And I bled.
And I completely shut down.
I had moments when it didn’t feel worth it, or I didn’t have any fight left in me.
But each time I got back up.

That spark of truth in me was too strong to extinguish with my ennui, or defeatist attitude, or simple exhaustion.
I’m not finished with that work, it just comes a little bit easier now than when I first started.
I may never be finished. I may do this work the rest of my days.
I owe that to myself.
I want to be the truest me. I want to share that me with the world.
I will work to be the truest me until the last breath leaves this body.
That sounds exhausting, but it also sounds hopeful.

Categories: mental health | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

things are just things

Y’all know Thing 1 and her family will be living in our house for a few months starting some time in July.
Y’all know YBW and I are eager to purchase and move into that townhouse.
The first of these will cause a change in the way we live in this house.
The second how we live in our new house.

This got me thinking about how I currently live in this house, how I want to live my remaining time in this house, and how I want to live in the new house.
Not how YBW and I live together. Those things must be decided by us as a unit.
I’m thinking how I want to live and what that means for me as a member of our household.

This thought process has been somewhat active as we begin to make preparations, but hatched into actual thoughts when I sent a photo to Thing 1 and Thing 2 asking if either of them had any interest in this item.

The story is my great aunt made this lamp for me. I don’t know when, but I do know I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t in my bedroom.
This Raggedy Ann lamp is a part of my life for as long as I can remember, but I don’t have any strong feels about it.
Thing 1 remarked that it’s one of those things that just stuck around.
The more I considered this, the more I realized that’s not a mindful way to live. At least I feel that way now about how I want to live.
Of late, I’ve worried that it may seem as though, and sometimes even feels like I’m just purging to purge, but I’m actually being super mindful about the way I want to live.
And what I surround myself with.
And what I leave behind needs to be the truest representation of the me I am (was?), and be simple for my daughters to handle.

I have this feeling it’s like shedding skin…
Or some sort of evolutionary process…
Leaving behind who you were in a mindful and respectful way and making room to become the next version of you…?

This is the last year of my forties, a natural phase of evolution as we get ready for a decade change. As I look at my life, I see how much my surroundings impact the way I live. By going through my things in a respectfully mindful way, I can prepare and environment that will meet my needs. Living my intention. Thriving in an environment that gives me everything I need with the bonus of things that foster learning and creativity. An environment in which I have enough room and the proper tools to grow into the next version of me.

Even though this lamp has been in my life as long as I can remember I don’t have any real feels about it.
Lack of feels is a strong indication that I don’t need it in my life which obviously means there’s no place for it in my house.
Purging to purge isn’t always healthy.
But being mindful about how I curate my environment is incredibly healthy.

My mom was not a full blown horder, but she was sure as hell a packrat. What I’ve learned about her since she’s been gone is that she saved things to fill emotional emptiness. By simply having these things she could feel the feels she didn’t have inside her.
She saved things that meant something because of the feels they evoked in her. Feels she couldn’t experience any other way.
My ex husband is exactly the same.
There is something about possessing particular items that provides some sort of emotion they otherwise lack (lacked). I truly believe it reinforces their stunted emotional growth. Then the weight of the things traps (trapped) them, so there’s no room to learn, or create, or grow.

I understand having great big feels about certain items. For me, a specific example of this is my Grandaddy’s wallet. It is of absolutely no use to me, but the feelings that bubble up in me when I hold it make it worth keeping.
But that is one particular item that is in a special place in my bookshelf that I can go to when I want to feel the intensity of those feels.
It doesn’t impact the way I live. It doesn’t block creativity or inhibit learning. It doesn’t waste space. It doesn’t keep me from growing as a human.
And I know as I write this that there will come a point in time I’ll be willing to let it go. Today is not that time.

I can’t be trapped by possessions. I need freedom to move. If I can’t move, I can’t grow.
I need to grow!
I want to evolve in my relationships with my friends.
I want to evolve in my relationships with my daughters.
I want to evolve with my granddaughter as she builds relationships.
I want to evolve in my relationship with my precious husband.

Things are just things.
At this stage of my life, my main focus is to curate my surroundings in a way that helps me thrive. Living my intention, learning and creating, and growing into the next version of me gives me all the feels.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

salty or empowered, the shift in me

So I was exposed to the former husband while at Thing 1’s for the baby shower.
Thing 1 said, “Momma. The salty was coming off of you in waves.”
I was horrified!
I was not salty with purpose. I was there to celebrate my baby having a baby. It wasn’t about me. It was all about Thing 1. (and Husband N and Baby K)

Thing 2 says, “Oh that’s just (dad) trying to stay relevant.”
Thing 1 says, “He just wants to remind people he’s there.”

Like most narcissists, he resides in a world created by his compulsive need for adoration. When he feels threatened in any way, he tends to back pedal, blame, or talk mad shit about his perceived attacker.
Most of us simply go along with his behavior to avoid potential ugliness. Life really is so much simpler that way.

Only I was consciously different last weekend in that I simply did not engage his behavior.
I did not engage in his attempt to hug me.
I did not engage his attempt to draw me into ‘inside jokes’ or his telling of stories.
I corrected him when he falsified events with embellishments.
I was respectful and polite, but I did not behave as though we have any special knowledge of each other.
Apparently the former husband was feeling the salt because he brought it up to Husband N who directed him to discuss his concerns with me.
That will never happen. He will talk mad shit about me to anyone that listens, but he won’t have a frank discussion with me about anything.
Interestingly, he talks the maddest shit about me to our daughters. What he chooses not to realize is that they tell me what he says about me.

While we were there, he said two particular things to me that rubbed me the wrong way. But instead of engaging him, I simply responded with honesty.
When Thing 1 walked out of the room, his eyes followed her then he turned to me and said, “You did a wonderful job.” I looked up, smiled, and replied, “I sure did.”
I worked my ass off to be the best possible mother to my daughters. I know I did a good job. I know my girls are good humans. I don’t need his approval.
Much later on, he said to me, “I’m glad you’re going to be with her for the birth.”
I literally had no words with which to respond, so I just nodded.

These things may seem benign to the casual observer, however in the comment about being with Thing 1 while Baby K is born, he’s essentially giving me permission to mother my own child.

It may sound as though I’m over here like, ‘let’s talk mad shit about the ex’. But in reality, it comes from a desire to express the shift in me.
I made an entirely conscious decision to change my behavior around him.
I chose not to engage in his performance.
I kept my focus on myself, on my daughter, on the celebration.
For the first time in over thirty years, I set clear boundaries.
I was not fearful, did not walk on eggshells.
I was empowered to simply be myself.

I’m going to say that again.
I was empowered to simply be myself.
My true self.
The me that trusts what she knows.
The me that loves fiercely and without fear.

I did not engage him.
There was push back. Husband N got it the same day.
I suspect there will be further push back, my girls will get it in mad shit talk about me.
I don’t care.
Husband N has no fucks to give when it comes to his wife’s father.
Thing 1 and Thing 2 know what’s up. I hate their dad uses them that way, but I can’t solve that problem for them.

I will always be polite and treat him with respect because I love my daughters and that’s the behavior they deserve to witness. They also deserve to witness a woman with strength and dignity. A woman who loves and lives passionately without fear.
I deserve to be that woman.

I will never again accept any one else’s version of who I am.
I am my own version of me.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

sense of urgency: true or false

I woke early this morning with a sense of urgency.
I find this peculiar for two reasons. The first being that I didn’t even get in bed until after midnight, then to be that ‘bright eyed and bushy tailed’ before 6:00? #needmybeautysleepyo
The second is that I have a simple day planned. Quick and easy errands, and meeting with a couple of lula consultants to swap out inventory. #lifeofleisuremuch
This is not earth shattering stuff, people. So why this acute sense of urgency?

Actually, I’m not sure that’s the right question…for once in my life I may not need to ask why. #stopthepresses
I have a sneaking suspicion the question should be more along the lines of: Is this a true sense of urgency?
Not why is there urgency, but is the urgency real or is it false?
A false sense of urgency (must find thesaurus) is nothing more than excuse to spin your wheels. I have no patience for that. I spent enough of my life spinning my wheels and getting nowhere. #aintnobodygottimeforthat
Of course, this doesn’t feel false. And I’m really examining it. Like, with tweezers and a microscope examining it. And here’s what I’ve come up with.
It is a true sense of urgency. But it has little to do what I may or may not need to accomplish in the world today. In (my) reality, it has everything to do with who I am and want to become.

It took me forty years to realize that I was smarter and more capable than I’d ever been given credit for. And that every choice I made, good, bad, indifferent, got me to that place within myself. The best part was that I actually liked the me I was.
At the time, forty years was my entire life. I had been kept down by the naysayers and never really knew it. I didn’t believe in myself because I’d been taught negative inner speech and spent a lifetime listening to it.
When I discovered I was brave and strong and capable I was finally able to tune out the naysayers. #damntheman
I was creating my own new and positive inner speech. #imatotalbamf

Of course, life actually gets in the way of this knowing and it’s easy to forget. It’s easy to hear that old negative inner speech as I go through the motions of daily life.
I flounder. I get lost. But that spark of knowledge is always there. I simply must remember to look for it. I found a glimpse of it recently! I even wrote about it, here.
Knowing my truest self has been a curious journey. I’ve been run off the road a few times, I stopped for food and fuel and chose not to get back on the road. I drove the party bus, not caring about the journey, just having fun. But I am a destination girl, the journey makes me weary. Luckily, I’ve met my truest self and spent sacred time traveling with her. Makes the journey less tedious.

This sense of urgency inside me is to remind me to keep tightly the knowledge of who I am and what it means. The sense of urgency is to guide me on my journey. To keep me on the right path. To help me create new positive inner speech, because if I do that enough, my brain will seek these new patterns and no longer fall into the old negative ones.
This sense of urgency is the fire in my belly stoking itself. To keep me from becoming complacent. To help me not let life get in the way of knowing.

I find it’s very rarely about what you accomplish out in the world.
I find it’s almost always about who you are and are becoming every day.
Be the truest you.
Not the “best possible you”. That’s holding yourself to external standards. #ohhellno
Be the truest you. Only you know what that means.

Trust yourself. Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life. Make the most of yourself by fanning the tiny, inner sparks of possibility into flames of achievement. ~ Golda Meir #word

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

wishful dreaming

I had a curious dream last night. Curious because I suspect it was a waking dream. Meaning that it may (or may not) have taken place in that ephemeral place between asleep and awake.
I don’t suppose that actually matters…but I have that nagging feeling that it just might.

I don’t remember how or when it began, or even what actually “happened”. But I do know I was given the opportunity to make three wishes.
Did I rub a lamp?
Was there a genie in a bottle?
Was I listening to Thirteen Tales of Love and Revenge for too long?
Was it just wishful…dreaming?
I have no earthly idea.
But I remember what I wished for.

My first wish: the ability to facilitate healing with the touch of my hand.
I wish this because I’d love to be able to help people who are truly struggling. With physical illness. With emotional illness. Wouldn’t that be an amazing gift to give? AND, I’d like the ability to heal my own brain, please and thank you.

My second wish: to always have the exact purchase price of anything I wanted to buy.
This could mean anything from sending my kids to college to new appliances, from new shoes to a pack of Trident. (spearmint, natch) To always have enough “change in my pocket”.
I would absolutely use this to my advantage, first and foremost to eradicate my dreaded student loan debt. But I would also use it to help and gift the people I love. And most likely, people I hardly even know.

My third wish: for every question I have to be answered with the absolute truth.
I’m talking about the whys and wherefores of things, not questions like, “Does this make my butt look big?” (I’m not sure anyone really wants the truth to that kind of question.)
If I could get answers to my age old questions, perhaps it would help me grow.
What if I could get answers that would help someone find their truest self or potential?
I can see where this wish could be more than I bargained for, I will undoubtedly get answers that would be hurtful. But I could learn from every single answer I get…the good, the bad, the indifferent.

I’m not sure about the first wish, but the second and third wishes are absolutely selfish. To be able to purchase what I need or want as I need or want it would be spectacular, though I suspect the novelty would wear off sooner rather than later. But to help the kids get set up in their lives would be the greatest gift! There are weddings coming, and they’ll need places to live. If I could start them out with what they need for the first year and then let them sort it from there on out. And shoes for me! Think of the shoes!
The third wish is selfish too. I’ve spent my life asking questions with precious few answers. But would answers to my old questions make any difference now?
But what if I could use this ability to help others? I could ask seemingly simple questions and help someone figure out what’s in their truest heart.
That feels more like a ‘using your powers for good and not evil’ kind of situation.

I don’t guess it really matters. There was no lamp. No genie came to me. And I’ve listened to that Pierces album more times than I can count.
Perhaps it was really wishful dreaming.
But isn’t that the best kind?

I’m curious about you and your three wishes. Would you be willing to share them with me?

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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