Sorry for the lack of Memorable Monday these past two weeks. It will return on New Year's Day, with an extra helping of memorable quotations!!! Email me at musicalmom725@comcast.net if you have a good idea for this special Memorable Monday. Do you have a saying, phrase, or quotation that can help us start 2012 off right??
For today, though, I've got something else I'd like to share with you: a new approach to that mile-long resolution list. Maybe you don't do this, but I'm definitely guilty of making a huge list of resolutions. Most of them, sadly, hit the cutting room floor a week into the new year even though my intentions are good and I desire the described changes.
A few weeks ago, I met with our campus pastor's wife, Heather, for coffee and a chat. She led me to the One Word website: www.myoneword.com. The campaign has been assembled by Mike Ashcraft, leader of Port City Community Church in North Carolina.
Here's the basic premise: Instead of creating the huge resolution list, complete with failures and our guilt over them, pick one word to serve as your focus for the year. You're not just selecting a word randomly--you're picking a word you feel God has placed in front of you, that you've prayed over, and that you've hopefully examined in the Bible before choosing.
Rest assured, you'll be challenged over your word throughout the year! The website features some great videos and stories of the word that people selected in 2011. Regardless of what happens during the year, you look at that word differently by the end of the year.
I was really intrigued by the site and its stories, and I decided to take the challenge to select one word for 2012! And I'm not alone--many of my close friends are signing on, as well as my Friday moms' small group! I'm so excited to see what happens throughout the year with each of them!!
After some prayer, and a slew of words going through my head, I've decided that my word for the year is peace. I think there are several words that fit under this category for me, but peace was the overriding thought, feeling, and need I felt, and have felt for a long time. I feel like I live in such chaos most of the time, and I almost crave a feeling of peace. I'm not at all sure how I'll get to that feeling--I do think it will have to be a work of God...which is kind of the point.
So, are you game?? Check out the website, select a word, and post it here so we can follow and encourage each other!!!
I wish for each of us a happy, healthy, blessed, peaceful new year!!!!
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Memorable Monday #2
I actually had a different quotation in mind for today, but when I saw this shared on a friend's Face Book status, I thought this would be a great choice. As we approach the end of this year and prepare for the next, inevitably resolutions start to rear their ugly heads. To be truthful, I don't think there's anything wrong with looking to the new year as a fresh start, a chance to do things differently. Believe me, my resolution list will be filled to the brim as usual! I think this quotation is a good reminder to me, and hopefully to someone else out there, that our resolutions don't always have to be tangible. We can put down emotional baggage as we head into the new year, and thus make a different kind of "fresh start."
Are you with me??
You build on failure. You use it as a stepping stone. Close the door on the past. You don't try to forget the mistakes, but you don't dwell on it. You don't let it have any of your energy, or any of your time, or any of your space.
Johnny Cash
Are you with me??
You build on failure. You use it as a stepping stone. Close the door on the past. You don't try to forget the mistakes, but you don't dwell on it. You don't let it have any of your energy, or any of your time, or any of your space.
Johnny Cash
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Deal Me In
Tonight I am sitting in the cafe area of our church, not awaiting my call to stage but instead serving as stage mom. My daughter is part of a dance team called the Shining Lights. They used to serve just as a ministry of our church but they have since branched out and are now part of a not-for-profit group. For the next two weeks they are dancing as part of a Christmas musical our church puts on, called Let it Be Christmas. Come check it out (www.communitychristian.org)!!
While I just love watching my little girl dance (she has a grace about her that can't be taught), it is so much harder to be a stage mom than to actually be on stage yourself! The role of Stage Mom is not one that comes naturally to me, so it takes a lot of thought and organization. If it helps my daughter to better be able to share her gifts, I will survive.
One of the keys to dance, as with music and so many other things, is that you can't do it half-way. You perform with not just your feet or your voice but with your heart and spirit, otherwise it's not as genuine, not as good of an experience for you or the audience. That's one of the things I love about watching my daughter dance--she's all in...and it is beautiful. I tear up every time, and I pray I continue to do so forever.
I used to be very good at putting myself all in, I think...and then life happened. Every setback or perceived failure made me less and less willing to put myself out there. It's too risky, I thought, too scary.
I came to this realization while playing Solitaire on my phone recently. The app I like to use allows you a certain number of cheats each game. You can choose to have the computer find the aces for you, move the cards over a space, shuffle the deck, or undo your last move. Much of the time, if I don't get the cards that I want, or I don't feel the game is going my way, I'll quit and start over, eve though I could have used the cheats and simply tried my hand. I don't take the time to try, to press on with the game and see where the deck falls.
And then, it hit me: If I don't have the patience to follow through and be all in with a computer version of Solitaire, how will I ever be able to be all in with real-life things, scary things with real consequences and outcomes??
Since then I've tried to complete more games of Solitaire than I quit, with the hope that it will translate to my bigger goals. I think it's already had some effect: it's helping me to get my fight back, to press on even when it's tough and I'm not comfortable. Currently I'm sick with bronchitis and laryngitis, which is tanking me on the exercise front. But I'm not giving up. I know that this too will pass, and I'll continue to move forward.
Not with perfection, but with persistence.
While I just love watching my little girl dance (she has a grace about her that can't be taught), it is so much harder to be a stage mom than to actually be on stage yourself! The role of Stage Mom is not one that comes naturally to me, so it takes a lot of thought and organization. If it helps my daughter to better be able to share her gifts, I will survive.
One of the keys to dance, as with music and so many other things, is that you can't do it half-way. You perform with not just your feet or your voice but with your heart and spirit, otherwise it's not as genuine, not as good of an experience for you or the audience. That's one of the things I love about watching my daughter dance--she's all in...and it is beautiful. I tear up every time, and I pray I continue to do so forever.
I used to be very good at putting myself all in, I think...and then life happened. Every setback or perceived failure made me less and less willing to put myself out there. It's too risky, I thought, too scary.
I came to this realization while playing Solitaire on my phone recently. The app I like to use allows you a certain number of cheats each game. You can choose to have the computer find the aces for you, move the cards over a space, shuffle the deck, or undo your last move. Much of the time, if I don't get the cards that I want, or I don't feel the game is going my way, I'll quit and start over, eve though I could have used the cheats and simply tried my hand. I don't take the time to try, to press on with the game and see where the deck falls.
And then, it hit me: If I don't have the patience to follow through and be all in with a computer version of Solitaire, how will I ever be able to be all in with real-life things, scary things with real consequences and outcomes??
Since then I've tried to complete more games of Solitaire than I quit, with the hope that it will translate to my bigger goals. I think it's already had some effect: it's helping me to get my fight back, to press on even when it's tough and I'm not comfortable. Currently I'm sick with bronchitis and laryngitis, which is tanking me on the exercise front. But I'm not giving up. I know that this too will pass, and I'll continue to move forward.
Not with perfection, but with persistence.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Memorable Mondays
I've been trying to come up with some ways for me to remember to get over here and post more often. As a result of this, I've decided that on Mondays, I will post a quotation, passage, or something of the like that I think others would enjoy as much as I do. Welcome to Memorable Mondays at The Wholeness Project!
I hope you enjoy these posts, and please feel free to pass them on to friends and family! Email me some of your favorites and I may share them in a Memorable Monday post here.
Here's today's Memorable Monday passage, from the movie The Princess Diaries:
Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious will not live at all.
I hope you enjoy these posts, and please feel free to pass them on to friends and family! Email me some of your favorites and I may share them in a Memorable Monday post here.
Here's today's Memorable Monday passage, from the movie The Princess Diaries:
Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious will not live at all.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
The Fault is Mine...
A quick note to KB--thanks for your email. I'm sorry I haven't responded...even though it's been forever since you sent it. I appreciate it very much and I will write back. Soon.
Not long ago I pulled out the movie You've Got Mail, with the dynamic duo of Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. I love that movie, for many reasons, and I've watched it more times than I would ever admit. The title of the last post I wrote is a spoof on that movie, and very fittingly, today's post is a quotation from that film that has been stuck in my head these last few weeks.
The scene in which this line occurs is a little hard to explain--suffice it to say that Hanks has upset Ryan, which caused her to act out of character, and he is trying to relieve her of any blame and apologize for his actions. One of the last things he says is "the fault is mine."
That line has weighed on me since then, and it's really got me thinking about my life and the struggles I feel like I'm facing. I don't know that I've ever really admitted the role I play in many of these issues. Oh sure, I'm good at looking outside myself, and I'm good at attempting to find a solution. A friend of mine commented this week, after being in my house for a bit, about all the "attempts" I've made at things. All are well-meant, and to an extent all of these attempts would probably bring some level of success to what I was doing...if I hadn't abandoned them prematurely to pursue something else that surely works better.
In all the searching for a better solution, I've gotten myself into a true place of confusion, of feeling lost and not sure where to look. Yet there's still this part of me that's driving to find THE answer to my problems, the trick or tool or gimmick that will solve everything and steer me down the right path.
With all the finger pointing I do, I've not taken the time to point the thumb. Sure, I've thrown the punching bag to beat myself up. I've used glaring eyes to see that I'll never feel good enough. I've looked out and about, instead of in...and up.
Pointing the thumb, I'm realizing, isn't about beating myself up or admonishing my obvious insecurities. That is a separate issue that needs to be dealt with and thrown out. Rather, pointing the thumb is admitting that I've set myself here, forgiving myself for whatever caused this to start in the past (when some of these things were necessary coping mechanisms), learning that I can change the course of my future, and setting a goal to move forward in a good direction.
Now, that does not mean that I'm at fault for everything, either. There were events going on in my life and caused a reaction, or a need to protect myself, and I acknowledge that. Those events have shaped who I am today. But to continue using coping mechanisms that are no longer needed is a bad choice, and that's on me. It's like listening to the dial-up modems they had in You've Got Mail. These old strategies of mine are outdated, and they will not help me to be what I'm meant to be in the future.
My small group leader said something that really stuck with me. He said that people will reach a point where they hit bottom with something they are dealing with...but they get to choose their own bottom. We can decide that this is as bad as we will let things get. You mean, I have a choice? I have the choice? I can decide that this is where I will draw the line?
I can...because I play a part in the situation (the fault is mine), I get to say where the bottom stops. And I choose to go up from there.
Because, the fault is mine.
Not long ago I pulled out the movie You've Got Mail, with the dynamic duo of Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. I love that movie, for many reasons, and I've watched it more times than I would ever admit. The title of the last post I wrote is a spoof on that movie, and very fittingly, today's post is a quotation from that film that has been stuck in my head these last few weeks.
The scene in which this line occurs is a little hard to explain--suffice it to say that Hanks has upset Ryan, which caused her to act out of character, and he is trying to relieve her of any blame and apologize for his actions. One of the last things he says is "the fault is mine."
That line has weighed on me since then, and it's really got me thinking about my life and the struggles I feel like I'm facing. I don't know that I've ever really admitted the role I play in many of these issues. Oh sure, I'm good at looking outside myself, and I'm good at attempting to find a solution. A friend of mine commented this week, after being in my house for a bit, about all the "attempts" I've made at things. All are well-meant, and to an extent all of these attempts would probably bring some level of success to what I was doing...if I hadn't abandoned them prematurely to pursue something else that surely works better.
In all the searching for a better solution, I've gotten myself into a true place of confusion, of feeling lost and not sure where to look. Yet there's still this part of me that's driving to find THE answer to my problems, the trick or tool or gimmick that will solve everything and steer me down the right path.
With all the finger pointing I do, I've not taken the time to point the thumb. Sure, I've thrown the punching bag to beat myself up. I've used glaring eyes to see that I'll never feel good enough. I've looked out and about, instead of in...and up.
Pointing the thumb, I'm realizing, isn't about beating myself up or admonishing my obvious insecurities. That is a separate issue that needs to be dealt with and thrown out. Rather, pointing the thumb is admitting that I've set myself here, forgiving myself for whatever caused this to start in the past (when some of these things were necessary coping mechanisms), learning that I can change the course of my future, and setting a goal to move forward in a good direction.
Now, that does not mean that I'm at fault for everything, either. There were events going on in my life and caused a reaction, or a need to protect myself, and I acknowledge that. Those events have shaped who I am today. But to continue using coping mechanisms that are no longer needed is a bad choice, and that's on me. It's like listening to the dial-up modems they had in You've Got Mail. These old strategies of mine are outdated, and they will not help me to be what I'm meant to be in the future.
My small group leader said something that really stuck with me. He said that people will reach a point where they hit bottom with something they are dealing with...but they get to choose their own bottom. We can decide that this is as bad as we will let things get. You mean, I have a choice? I have the choice? I can decide that this is where I will draw the line?
I can...because I play a part in the situation (the fault is mine), I get to say where the bottom stops. And I choose to go up from there.
Because, the fault is mine.
Friday, October 21, 2011
You've Got Fail
So far, in the very short life of my very short blog, I've written about a few of the key issues that I face on a daily basis. I constantly deal with issues resulting from my perfectionism, my need for order and schedule, and my love-hate relationship with numbers. Today's blog topic has been weighing on my mind for a while now, but I have not been able to make myself sit down and write about it. Maybe waiting for the right words, maybe wanting to avoid the topic.
Today, I want to write about some events that took place in my life a few years back, events that have really left me stuck in many ways. I'm now able to start looking at them a little differently, which I will explain as I go on.
My first job after college was as a music teacher in a public school. I held this type of job for four years, at various age levels and locations. When I decided during my fourth year that I needed to leave the profession, it was as I was approaching major burnout. I could never give my students the love for music that I had--so many of them just did not care. It made me cold...and I said that when that happened it was time to leave. Through an amazing act of God, I was connected with a fine arts school that was run as a ministry of a church near me. I fell in love with it, and started working there as a teacher the following year. The longer I worked there, the more I loved it and the farther up in the ranks I moved. I became the assistant director of the school, and I was so excited. I loved what the school was about and what they did--I still do.
Then after a while, things began to change. I faced a great deal of verbal attack from a co-worker who didn't think I was cut out for my job. The autonomy I was told I would have vanished. The ideas I had to change and improve the school were never allowed to come to fruition. I was beside myself. I still loved this place so much, yet I was left with almost daily panic attacks and a powerless feeling every time I went in. I asked for help. I explained that it was too much, that I spent all my time there (at a part-time job) and my family was struggling. I shared my ideas for improvement to no avail.
And finally, begrudgingly, I made the very hardest decision I have ever made...I resigned. I finished the school year, cleared out my desk, and headed for home.
I wish I could say I felt better afterwards....maybe I felt a little better. But sadly, I don't think I'd ever felt like more of a failure in my life. I still do some days, and it's been over a year since I left. I felt like I let my teachers down, like I'd let a lot of people down. I'd thought that some of the people around me believed in me...it ripped me apart to find out that some of them probably hadn't. I'd had all these ideas, and I still believed in the mission so much, yet I didn't feel I could do anything else. I broke down in my exit interview, because I hated leaving while feeling so...unfinished.
I felt lost on a spiritual level as well. I thought I'd heard God tell me that one day I'd even get to be in charge of the whole thing, that I could run it and do great things with it! Had I heard wrong? Was I not listening clearly?? Had I just strutted way out ahead of God, again? The answer? Probably, at least in part. I seem to be quite good at that.
This deep sense of failure has carried with me since then. I think it's left me afraid to really step out and put myself and my abilities out there again. The hurt, anger, sadness, and other emotions from this experience were so deep. I really haven't wanted to get anywhere close to that again. And so, even the things I know I can do are left in doubt: my singing, my teaching, my ability to run anything.
Sadly, the ministry folded at the end of this past school year. As you can guess, that did NOT help my emotional standing at all! I sank down deeper, wondering if I'd have made a difference if I had just stayed and kept working at it. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I know that the answer to that last statement is no, nothing else I could have done would have changed it. Some days, that answer's not enough for me. I'm so sad to see something I loved so much, that I feel I gave everything I had to, just gone.
Not too long ago, I was lifted a bit when I felt God present me with another angle to the situation. Maybe, because God knew how much I loved this ministry, he removed me from the situation in the final year. Maybe, he knew that actually seeing it go down, up close and personal, would have crushed me. Maybe, He was protecting me from that really really deep hurt of being there at the end.
If that's the case...then I can be truly thankful. If that's the case...then I can try to pull myself up out of this failure pit, dust myself off, and know that while I made mistakes, I did the best that I could with what I had. If that's the case...then slowly, I can try to open myself up to what else may be down the road for me. I have a feeling that there are some great things coming. And I hope that when they arrive, I can step out from the shadow of failure and be truly ready to embrace them.
I can learn. I can say goodbye. I can move on. I can succeed. I can...be thankful.
Today, I want to write about some events that took place in my life a few years back, events that have really left me stuck in many ways. I'm now able to start looking at them a little differently, which I will explain as I go on.
My first job after college was as a music teacher in a public school. I held this type of job for four years, at various age levels and locations. When I decided during my fourth year that I needed to leave the profession, it was as I was approaching major burnout. I could never give my students the love for music that I had--so many of them just did not care. It made me cold...and I said that when that happened it was time to leave. Through an amazing act of God, I was connected with a fine arts school that was run as a ministry of a church near me. I fell in love with it, and started working there as a teacher the following year. The longer I worked there, the more I loved it and the farther up in the ranks I moved. I became the assistant director of the school, and I was so excited. I loved what the school was about and what they did--I still do.
Then after a while, things began to change. I faced a great deal of verbal attack from a co-worker who didn't think I was cut out for my job. The autonomy I was told I would have vanished. The ideas I had to change and improve the school were never allowed to come to fruition. I was beside myself. I still loved this place so much, yet I was left with almost daily panic attacks and a powerless feeling every time I went in. I asked for help. I explained that it was too much, that I spent all my time there (at a part-time job) and my family was struggling. I shared my ideas for improvement to no avail.
And finally, begrudgingly, I made the very hardest decision I have ever made...I resigned. I finished the school year, cleared out my desk, and headed for home.
I wish I could say I felt better afterwards....maybe I felt a little better. But sadly, I don't think I'd ever felt like more of a failure in my life. I still do some days, and it's been over a year since I left. I felt like I let my teachers down, like I'd let a lot of people down. I'd thought that some of the people around me believed in me...it ripped me apart to find out that some of them probably hadn't. I'd had all these ideas, and I still believed in the mission so much, yet I didn't feel I could do anything else. I broke down in my exit interview, because I hated leaving while feeling so...unfinished.
I felt lost on a spiritual level as well. I thought I'd heard God tell me that one day I'd even get to be in charge of the whole thing, that I could run it and do great things with it! Had I heard wrong? Was I not listening clearly?? Had I just strutted way out ahead of God, again? The answer? Probably, at least in part. I seem to be quite good at that.
This deep sense of failure has carried with me since then. I think it's left me afraid to really step out and put myself and my abilities out there again. The hurt, anger, sadness, and other emotions from this experience were so deep. I really haven't wanted to get anywhere close to that again. And so, even the things I know I can do are left in doubt: my singing, my teaching, my ability to run anything.
Sadly, the ministry folded at the end of this past school year. As you can guess, that did NOT help my emotional standing at all! I sank down deeper, wondering if I'd have made a difference if I had just stayed and kept working at it. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I know that the answer to that last statement is no, nothing else I could have done would have changed it. Some days, that answer's not enough for me. I'm so sad to see something I loved so much, that I feel I gave everything I had to, just gone.
Not too long ago, I was lifted a bit when I felt God present me with another angle to the situation. Maybe, because God knew how much I loved this ministry, he removed me from the situation in the final year. Maybe, he knew that actually seeing it go down, up close and personal, would have crushed me. Maybe, He was protecting me from that really really deep hurt of being there at the end.
If that's the case...then I can be truly thankful. If that's the case...then I can try to pull myself up out of this failure pit, dust myself off, and know that while I made mistakes, I did the best that I could with what I had. If that's the case...then slowly, I can try to open myself up to what else may be down the road for me. I have a feeling that there are some great things coming. And I hope that when they arrive, I can step out from the shadow of failure and be truly ready to embrace them.
I can learn. I can say goodbye. I can move on. I can succeed. I can...be thankful.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Little Miss Perfect
This post is going to be super short...on purpose.
My perfectionism has held me hostage from my blog this past month. Believe me, I've had several good post ideas. Several!! And did I write about any of them? Nope. Because I was waiting for the perfect.
...time, day, wording. Heck, maybe even the perfect lighting so I'd look super pretty while I poured out my ideas on my laptop!
So, the sole purpose of this post is to remind me of a few key things...
There is no perfect....time, day, wording, lighting, PERSON. The only perfect person was Jesus, and while we're supposed to try and be more like him, to try and be perfect is not realistic.
Remember the title of your blog, Jen. This is about the journey to wholeness, not about writing as you wave down to everyone else if/when you ever get there. It's about the good and the bad, the stops and the starts,and the fact that you're NOT alone. In any of it.
Stop waiting for the perfect. If you do, you'll miss everything else.
So to close, a question or two to ponder: How do I let go of the perfect, and instead pursue the "good enough," the "best effort" I can give?? How can I wrap my brain around that and make that okay??? How can I be at peace with the perfect?
My perfectionism has held me hostage from my blog this past month. Believe me, I've had several good post ideas. Several!! And did I write about any of them? Nope. Because I was waiting for the perfect.
...time, day, wording. Heck, maybe even the perfect lighting so I'd look super pretty while I poured out my ideas on my laptop!
So, the sole purpose of this post is to remind me of a few key things...
There is no perfect....time, day, wording, lighting, PERSON. The only perfect person was Jesus, and while we're supposed to try and be more like him, to try and be perfect is not realistic.
Remember the title of your blog, Jen. This is about the journey to wholeness, not about writing as you wave down to everyone else if/when you ever get there. It's about the good and the bad, the stops and the starts,and the fact that you're NOT alone. In any of it.
Stop waiting for the perfect. If you do, you'll miss everything else.
So to close, a question or two to ponder: How do I let go of the perfect, and instead pursue the "good enough," the "best effort" I can give?? How can I wrap my brain around that and make that okay??? How can I be at peace with the perfect?
Friday, August 5, 2011
The Numbers Don't Lie--Do They?
I read a very interesting article in this month's Real Simple magazine. It was the story of a woman who, for much of her life, liked to count things. While sometimes this trait proved to be a good thing (keeping track of her GPA and semesters on the dean's list), often this habit was her undoing (counting rejection letters and missed classes at the gym). You can read the article here.
This article really made me stop and think for a few reasons. One, I felt a little better about myself because I realized I wasn't the only person who has a tendency to be a bit number-happy. Like the author, this has often been my detriment. I can tell you what I weighed in fourth grade (too much), seventh grade (when I wanted to either succeed or give up), twelfth grade (when it was awesome), most of college, my wedding, and before and after both kids. The fact that I've stopped looking at the numbers (see my previous post) is quite monumental.
But I guess this has also served me well. I can tell you my GPA from grad school (4.0, of which I'm very proud), how many rounds I passed in the CSO chorus audition (2-made it to the final round and was cut), how many years until both kids are in school full-day (1!!). I'd have to say that, on the whole, the number counting and tracking is more harmful than good.
Two, the article gives me hope that numbers can become less prevalent in my life. It is possible! The author does point out, however, that deciding to NOT count is a mind-set, much in the way a decision to stop smoking or drinking would be. You have to decide to stop it, and constantly remind yourself of this decision even when the going is tough and you can find any excuse to change your mind...though I must say it sounds funny. Just "one more cigarette" sounds more serious than "one more set of numbers."
This morning I really wanted to hop up on that scale, so I could either celebrate or berate myself for what flashed back at me. I didn't do it. Yeah, not a real significant victory of any kind...well, maybe it is. Freeing myself from the numbers game could lead to a whole lot more, if I choose to let it.
I'll close this post with a quotation from the article, one that I think will mean some far-reaching effects in my life. Maybe I need to carry this quote on a card, or stitch a sampler, or repeat it to myself often.
Maybe the numbers do lie...
"I no longer judge myself so frequently or harshly. I spend more of my time doing things than reflecting on what I have tackled already or, worse, angsting over what I have not yet done. I’ve relinquished a little control for a little more serenity, which has provided me with a daily emotional payoff."
This article really made me stop and think for a few reasons. One, I felt a little better about myself because I realized I wasn't the only person who has a tendency to be a bit number-happy. Like the author, this has often been my detriment. I can tell you what I weighed in fourth grade (too much), seventh grade (when I wanted to either succeed or give up), twelfth grade (when it was awesome), most of college, my wedding, and before and after both kids. The fact that I've stopped looking at the numbers (see my previous post) is quite monumental.
But I guess this has also served me well. I can tell you my GPA from grad school (4.0, of which I'm very proud), how many rounds I passed in the CSO chorus audition (2-made it to the final round and was cut), how many years until both kids are in school full-day (1!!). I'd have to say that, on the whole, the number counting and tracking is more harmful than good.
Two, the article gives me hope that numbers can become less prevalent in my life. It is possible! The author does point out, however, that deciding to NOT count is a mind-set, much in the way a decision to stop smoking or drinking would be. You have to decide to stop it, and constantly remind yourself of this decision even when the going is tough and you can find any excuse to change your mind...though I must say it sounds funny. Just "one more cigarette" sounds more serious than "one more set of numbers."
This morning I really wanted to hop up on that scale, so I could either celebrate or berate myself for what flashed back at me. I didn't do it. Yeah, not a real significant victory of any kind...well, maybe it is. Freeing myself from the numbers game could lead to a whole lot more, if I choose to let it.
I'll close this post with a quotation from the article, one that I think will mean some far-reaching effects in my life. Maybe I need to carry this quote on a card, or stitch a sampler, or repeat it to myself often.
Maybe the numbers do lie...
"I no longer judge myself so frequently or harshly. I spend more of my time doing things than reflecting on what I have tackled already or, worse, angsting over what I have not yet done. I’ve relinquished a little control for a little more serenity, which has provided me with a daily emotional payoff."
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The Remedy
Chapter Nine of the book "So Long, Insecurity" consists of a prayer guide, so that you can come before God (I actually found Beth's reading very helpful), lay down the issues of insecurity, and ask Him to take them away, to "make a miracle" out of you.
Today, August 3rd 2011, I did just that. I asked God to break the chains from me, to destroy this legacy of insecurity, and to bring healing to me, my daughter, my family.
It was not easy. It's probably something I'll have to replay often throughout this journey. And it wasn't without tears (be careful if you're still in the car at this point). This is an issue I've dealt with since I was very little...so there'll be a lot of baggage I have to unpack and ship out.
I have decided a few things for myself at this point. First, I'm going to stop trying to lose weight...at least, in the manner that I've tried to for years and years. I've had periods of success with this, only to fall back beyond my starting point, and I've always wondered why. Today, I realize that the weight issues I face are a side effect of my bigger issues with insecurity. So, I will continue to try and eat healthy and get my body moving. But I will not obsess over my numbers. If I feel my clothes loosening, I will step on the scale to see what's happening. But I am not a number, and I must stop obsessing over them.
Second, I'm going to enlist the help of people around me that I trust to help me identify those moments where my insecurity and perfectionism (another form of insecurity) rear their ugly, unwelcome heads. I need to spot these moments coming and start to replace the lies I've believed for so long with the truth of who I really am and what I'm meant to be.
Third, as my husband tells me often, I'm going to try and leave my comfort zone more often. Sometimes this isn't such a bad thing, and sometimes it's the hardest task ever. Telling the girl who hates calling for pizza to step out and invite myself into conversations is mind-boggling. What if I sound dumb? What if they don't like me? Argh...step out, step out, step out.
I'd like to ask you for your thoughts/prayers on this journey, if you're willing. The fact that I'm even writing this words and putting them out there to the world is a huge step for me. I know this will be extremely hard...but I want to find some wholeness, some healing. Not just for me, but for my mother and grandmother before me and my daughter after me. Let's leave a better legacy than this...
Today, August 3rd 2011, I did just that. I asked God to break the chains from me, to destroy this legacy of insecurity, and to bring healing to me, my daughter, my family.
It was not easy. It's probably something I'll have to replay often throughout this journey. And it wasn't without tears (be careful if you're still in the car at this point). This is an issue I've dealt with since I was very little...so there'll be a lot of baggage I have to unpack and ship out.
I have decided a few things for myself at this point. First, I'm going to stop trying to lose weight...at least, in the manner that I've tried to for years and years. I've had periods of success with this, only to fall back beyond my starting point, and I've always wondered why. Today, I realize that the weight issues I face are a side effect of my bigger issues with insecurity. So, I will continue to try and eat healthy and get my body moving. But I will not obsess over my numbers. If I feel my clothes loosening, I will step on the scale to see what's happening. But I am not a number, and I must stop obsessing over them.
Second, I'm going to enlist the help of people around me that I trust to help me identify those moments where my insecurity and perfectionism (another form of insecurity) rear their ugly, unwelcome heads. I need to spot these moments coming and start to replace the lies I've believed for so long with the truth of who I really am and what I'm meant to be.
Third, as my husband tells me often, I'm going to try and leave my comfort zone more often. Sometimes this isn't such a bad thing, and sometimes it's the hardest task ever. Telling the girl who hates calling for pizza to step out and invite myself into conversations is mind-boggling. What if I sound dumb? What if they don't like me? Argh...step out, step out, step out.
I'd like to ask you for your thoughts/prayers on this journey, if you're willing. The fact that I'm even writing this words and putting them out there to the world is a huge step for me. I know this will be extremely hard...but I want to find some wholeness, some healing. Not just for me, but for my mother and grandmother before me and my daughter after me. Let's leave a better legacy than this...
The Heart of the Matter
I had a major epiphany today, and it happened in the same spot where many of my revelations occur--in my car.
Francesca (aka Fran the Third) is my 2002 Toyota Camry. She shakes when you ride about 70 on the highway, but she gets me where I need to go. As much as I would love to get a newer car sometime soon, her and I have a thing. We work well together. She's really become my think tank, some days the only quiet and solitude I'm bound to get so I do not take that time lightly.
Today I was driving to Chicago bright and early for my weekly voice lesson. Yes, many days I complain about the traffic or the mileage, but I am truly blessed to have the teacher I have. With the amazing help of Dr. Ron Combs and his partner Dan Kane, my voice has grown almost a full octave since I started study in 2003. I almost always leave my lesson feeling refreshed and energized, as if my purpose has been renewed.
This week, however, the epiphany I'm talking about came before I even reached his house. As I mentioned in my last post, I've been listening to the book "So Long, Insecurity" by Beth Moore. I've really gotten a lot out of the entire read...but today took this to a whole new level. I reached Chapter 8 as I drove onto Lake Shore Drive from the Stevenson...and that's when it hit me. It didn't come as the aha moment, that metaphysical "click" I'd been looking for at this point in my journey. It came more like a thud, a weight in my stomach, a stark realization of the reality I'd created for myself. Just as powerful, yet far more serious than any "click" I could experience.
Are you ready for it? Here it is:
Everything I do, everything I have done, and everything I am up to this point in my life is marred by my crippling insecurity. What I've managed to achieve, what I've failed to achieve, what I strive to be is all splotched by it. And, even worse yet, this legacy that I've sworn to try and break is already being passed on...before my very eyes.
This left me stunned and speechless. I'm still trying to really wrap my head around it. It's that serious.
Many people who've met me, or have seen me sing on stage or at church, would never guess that I am as insecure as I am. That's the case for a few reasons: one, I've become excellent at hiding it...at least I think so. I'm a pretty decent actress, after all. It's something I haven't wanted anyone to discover. Two, my singing is one of the few things in my life where I feel I've got some talent and ability...so I don't stress as much over it, and I allow myself to be a different, more expressive person on stage because I'm not as afraid of failure.
Note, I used the phrase "as much." Any singer will tell you that we are our own worst critics, and I'm exceptionally good at that too! I will obsess over a missed note, botched phrase, poorly taken breath or badly positioned register change. For as hard as I may be on my students, I am ten times harder on myself, and that's being generous.
I feel like I've been looking for answers for a long time, solutions for my weight issues, for why I'm stuck vocally, for the state of our house and family and marriage. I've been looking for an aha, a "click" that would just make sense and would fix everything. The fact that the epiphany did not come in that form leaves me even more stunned. But it's the answer God set out for me to find.
I've been given a legacy of insecurity, and I can and must find a way to break free from it. It's kept me from pursuing my goals. From truly investing myself in relationships and friendships. From thinking I deserve better. From fully using the gifts God's bestowed. From taking proper care of myself.
Instead I've hidden myself behind layers and layers of weight, piles of stuff, walls of silence. And it's not come without consequences for those around me. When my daughter tearfully told me she was afraid that no one would like her or want to play with her, the harsh bite of my selfishness really hit home.
God, what am I doing???
Francesca (aka Fran the Third) is my 2002 Toyota Camry. She shakes when you ride about 70 on the highway, but she gets me where I need to go. As much as I would love to get a newer car sometime soon, her and I have a thing. We work well together. She's really become my think tank, some days the only quiet and solitude I'm bound to get so I do not take that time lightly.
Today I was driving to Chicago bright and early for my weekly voice lesson. Yes, many days I complain about the traffic or the mileage, but I am truly blessed to have the teacher I have. With the amazing help of Dr. Ron Combs and his partner Dan Kane, my voice has grown almost a full octave since I started study in 2003. I almost always leave my lesson feeling refreshed and energized, as if my purpose has been renewed.
This week, however, the epiphany I'm talking about came before I even reached his house. As I mentioned in my last post, I've been listening to the book "So Long, Insecurity" by Beth Moore. I've really gotten a lot out of the entire read...but today took this to a whole new level. I reached Chapter 8 as I drove onto Lake Shore Drive from the Stevenson...and that's when it hit me. It didn't come as the aha moment, that metaphysical "click" I'd been looking for at this point in my journey. It came more like a thud, a weight in my stomach, a stark realization of the reality I'd created for myself. Just as powerful, yet far more serious than any "click" I could experience.
Are you ready for it? Here it is:
Everything I do, everything I have done, and everything I am up to this point in my life is marred by my crippling insecurity. What I've managed to achieve, what I've failed to achieve, what I strive to be is all splotched by it. And, even worse yet, this legacy that I've sworn to try and break is already being passed on...before my very eyes.
This left me stunned and speechless. I'm still trying to really wrap my head around it. It's that serious.
Many people who've met me, or have seen me sing on stage or at church, would never guess that I am as insecure as I am. That's the case for a few reasons: one, I've become excellent at hiding it...at least I think so. I'm a pretty decent actress, after all. It's something I haven't wanted anyone to discover. Two, my singing is one of the few things in my life where I feel I've got some talent and ability...so I don't stress as much over it, and I allow myself to be a different, more expressive person on stage because I'm not as afraid of failure.
Note, I used the phrase "as much." Any singer will tell you that we are our own worst critics, and I'm exceptionally good at that too! I will obsess over a missed note, botched phrase, poorly taken breath or badly positioned register change. For as hard as I may be on my students, I am ten times harder on myself, and that's being generous.
I feel like I've been looking for answers for a long time, solutions for my weight issues, for why I'm stuck vocally, for the state of our house and family and marriage. I've been looking for an aha, a "click" that would just make sense and would fix everything. The fact that the epiphany did not come in that form leaves me even more stunned. But it's the answer God set out for me to find.
I've been given a legacy of insecurity, and I can and must find a way to break free from it. It's kept me from pursuing my goals. From truly investing myself in relationships and friendships. From thinking I deserve better. From fully using the gifts God's bestowed. From taking proper care of myself.
Instead I've hidden myself behind layers and layers of weight, piles of stuff, walls of silence. And it's not come without consequences for those around me. When my daughter tearfully told me she was afraid that no one would like her or want to play with her, the harsh bite of my selfishness really hit home.
God, what am I doing???
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Take a look, it's in a book...
I realize it's been way too long since I've written a new entry. In my mind, I keep waiting for the perfect opportunity to sit down and write something. Ha, what a joke. Too bad I haven't totally (or rather, at all) convinced the perfectionist in me that perfection isn't possible. I think life would be a whole lost easier if I could get that through my thick skull.
I'm in my car a lot, what with an hour drive each way to my voice lesson and 40 minutes each way for the kids' therapy sessions. When I can manage to escape the kids' tunes, I really enjoy listening to books on CD (yes, in my mind it's books on tape!). Yesterday, I started listening to "So Long, Insecurity" by Beth Moore. Friends, I believe this book should become standard issue to women everywhere...or at least, women who are anything like me. While Beth's charismatic reading definitely enhanced the book (I'm serious), the message of it would have hit me like a ton of bricks even if Ben Stein had been reading.
So many things stuck out at me like sore, red thumbs as I listened, but I think the main idea came just as I was pulling in to my driveway. I had to back up the disc several times so I wouldn't forget it, and I'd like to paraphrase it (with all due credit given to Ms. Moore) for you here. Here goes...
In our lives, very much like the apostle Paul from the Bible, the fiercest enemy we have to fight in the fulfillment of our destiny is ourselves. We can become so insecure, so afraid of failure, so covetous of another person who "seems" to have what we lack, that we will never achieve what God has lined up for us. In fact, by doing these things, it's almost like we are saying that we don't trust God. We don't trust that he knew what he was doing when he gave us certain attributes or opportunities, because we're not good enough to pursue them (think Moses balking off public speech). Our insecurity is robbing us blind...and we're letting it happen.
...I know. Are you hurting like I've been hurting since hearing all this? The worst part, for me? Sadly, there is so much truth in these words. So, here now is a chance to work the Emotional side of my wholeness wheel...which, if you ask me, already sees much too much air time in my life. I'm a highly emotional person, a people pleaser. If I even perceive that I've offended someone, if it's even a remote possibility, I focus on it. I can't make decisions some days to save my life, leaving me overwhelmed and stuck like super glue to the floor, unable to progress in any direction. And I cry, a lot. I cry at stupid stuff, and I hate that I'm doing it! And even worse, I'm an ugly crier!! You know what I mean--some people can look so dramatic when they cry. Oh no, not this girl! Red-faced, blotchy-eyed, tight grimaced expressions accompany me on my sob-fests. Well, according to Moore's book so far, these qualities are all part of being insecure with myself. It made way too much sense.
And I've also discovered (as if this weren't enough), that I've got a few hot-button topics, areas where I feel like I'd become more secure if they were fixed or eliminated. Let's see if you can relate: my two hot-button spots are my weight and order/organization. The first has always been a factor for me, because I could see both in my peers and in my own family that having a weight issue made me different and less desirable as a person. In this arena, I wish for two things: I wish I could drop all of the extra weight (which I am working on, ever so slowly), and I wish I could love myself for the person I am inside, unconditionally, here and now. I wish my weight did not define me. I wish it didn't bother me so. I wish I could go through a day and not worry that everyone else is judging me because of it.
The second issue, though different, messes with my head on the same levels as my weight. I'm a very visual person, and when my surroundings are in chaos, then my body and spirit follow suit. It makes me tired, sad, mad, angry, you name it. Right now, I'm trying to arrange our family's fall schedule, and the pieces I try to stand up just keep falling down around me. It's a total mess, and it's got me in shut-down mode. Some tell me to get a grip. Boy, I wish I could.
I used to love going to Amy's house for small group. She seemed to be so together, at least in my hot-point areas. She was in great shape, dresses really well, and her house was immaculate. I mean shiny clean!! Now I know that she faces challenges, as we all do, but she was so successful in those areas where I struggle so much. It was so hard for me not to see those things, not to wish I could figure out her secret. Well, I did figure it out: the secret is that those weren't her hot-point areas. Those things weren't her challenges. Simple, huh?
I'm probably going to post more as I continue through the book. I'm really glad I picked it up, and I pray that I can unlock these chains of insecurity. After all, I know that God has some great things in store for me. I need to be ready and prepared to go after them!!
I'm in my car a lot, what with an hour drive each way to my voice lesson and 40 minutes each way for the kids' therapy sessions. When I can manage to escape the kids' tunes, I really enjoy listening to books on CD (yes, in my mind it's books on tape!). Yesterday, I started listening to "So Long, Insecurity" by Beth Moore. Friends, I believe this book should become standard issue to women everywhere...or at least, women who are anything like me. While Beth's charismatic reading definitely enhanced the book (I'm serious), the message of it would have hit me like a ton of bricks even if Ben Stein had been reading.
So many things stuck out at me like sore, red thumbs as I listened, but I think the main idea came just as I was pulling in to my driveway. I had to back up the disc several times so I wouldn't forget it, and I'd like to paraphrase it (with all due credit given to Ms. Moore) for you here. Here goes...
In our lives, very much like the apostle Paul from the Bible, the fiercest enemy we have to fight in the fulfillment of our destiny is ourselves. We can become so insecure, so afraid of failure, so covetous of another person who "seems" to have what we lack, that we will never achieve what God has lined up for us. In fact, by doing these things, it's almost like we are saying that we don't trust God. We don't trust that he knew what he was doing when he gave us certain attributes or opportunities, because we're not good enough to pursue them (think Moses balking off public speech). Our insecurity is robbing us blind...and we're letting it happen.
...I know. Are you hurting like I've been hurting since hearing all this? The worst part, for me? Sadly, there is so much truth in these words. So, here now is a chance to work the Emotional side of my wholeness wheel...which, if you ask me, already sees much too much air time in my life. I'm a highly emotional person, a people pleaser. If I even perceive that I've offended someone, if it's even a remote possibility, I focus on it. I can't make decisions some days to save my life, leaving me overwhelmed and stuck like super glue to the floor, unable to progress in any direction. And I cry, a lot. I cry at stupid stuff, and I hate that I'm doing it! And even worse, I'm an ugly crier!! You know what I mean--some people can look so dramatic when they cry. Oh no, not this girl! Red-faced, blotchy-eyed, tight grimaced expressions accompany me on my sob-fests. Well, according to Moore's book so far, these qualities are all part of being insecure with myself. It made way too much sense.
And I've also discovered (as if this weren't enough), that I've got a few hot-button topics, areas where I feel like I'd become more secure if they were fixed or eliminated. Let's see if you can relate: my two hot-button spots are my weight and order/organization. The first has always been a factor for me, because I could see both in my peers and in my own family that having a weight issue made me different and less desirable as a person. In this arena, I wish for two things: I wish I could drop all of the extra weight (which I am working on, ever so slowly), and I wish I could love myself for the person I am inside, unconditionally, here and now. I wish my weight did not define me. I wish it didn't bother me so. I wish I could go through a day and not worry that everyone else is judging me because of it.
The second issue, though different, messes with my head on the same levels as my weight. I'm a very visual person, and when my surroundings are in chaos, then my body and spirit follow suit. It makes me tired, sad, mad, angry, you name it. Right now, I'm trying to arrange our family's fall schedule, and the pieces I try to stand up just keep falling down around me. It's a total mess, and it's got me in shut-down mode. Some tell me to get a grip. Boy, I wish I could.
I used to love going to Amy's house for small group. She seemed to be so together, at least in my hot-point areas. She was in great shape, dresses really well, and her house was immaculate. I mean shiny clean!! Now I know that she faces challenges, as we all do, but she was so successful in those areas where I struggle so much. It was so hard for me not to see those things, not to wish I could figure out her secret. Well, I did figure it out: the secret is that those weren't her hot-point areas. Those things weren't her challenges. Simple, huh?
I'm probably going to post more as I continue through the book. I'm really glad I picked it up, and I pray that I can unlock these chains of insecurity. After all, I know that God has some great things in store for me. I need to be ready and prepared to go after them!!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Pennies From Heaven
Argh--I'm still learning my way around this blog, and I haven't figured out how to reply to comments. I know...please don't laugh too loud. So here's a reply for Princess: Thanks for posting! I will have to use that at the next boot camp, which thankfully isn't until NEXT Saturday. By then I might get my courage back! LOL
Back to our regular programming...
July is Birthday Month for my two kids. Today is my son Aiden's fifth birthday (LOVE YOU BUD!!), and my daughter Becca will turn 8 on the 25th. It's always a crazy time that we're never quite prepared for, and this year has proved to be no exception.
Becca decided that she wanted to get a bike for her birthday. This irked us a bit, as she already has a decent one that just needs some repair. After chatting a bit, my husband and I decided to make this a "learning experience" for her by having her raise/earn the money for the new bike herself. Then, we will fix up the other one and donate it so another child can have a nice bike. We went to the store today to figure out which bike she wanted and how much she'd need to save, and we figured that with a helmet and tax she'd need to earn about $100. She had a little drama attack (she's exceptionally good at those) and said that it would take YEARS to raise that much. Well, with her birthday money, and any money should could save from odd jobs and allowance, it really won't take her long at all. She got so excited and started doing extra chores this afternoon. Hey, I could get used to this!
Fast forward a few hours, when we went back to the store to get items for Aiden's selected birthday dinner. I had brought Becca with to help, which is either hugely successful or a huge bomb. As we were standing in the check-out, Becca spotted a beef jerky and a bag of trail mix, each costing $1.00. Well, she just HAD to have them! She threw both items on the belt. She asked if I could buy them and she'd pay me from her bike money when we got home. Well, naturally I said no. You'll never raise the money for your bike at this rate, I noted.
This was not going to cut the mustard in her mind. I lost count of the number of times she asked, pleaded, cajoled, and whined during the visit...but I think a hundred is in the right ball park. Add to this the HUGE lines at WalMart, the two phone calls I got while in line, and trying to make sure I paid with the right card, and you've got a very upset Mom!!! Finally, I asked the cashier to remove the items from the belt (this got her HACKED), we finished up, and Becca and I sat on a bench to talk.
I was so angry and frustrated at the scene I felt she'd caused. Over and over, I tried to explain why she couldn't spend the money on these little items when she was trying to save for a bigger prize down the road. I couldn't understand why she'd become so fixated on these little things, things that would be gone in a matter of minutes. And then it hit me, the little voice that I'd tried so hard to block out had knocked down a door in my mind in order to be heard.
"Why should she listen to you, when you do this to yourself all the time??" OUCH.
And what could I say to that? Why was it okay for me to sabotage my long-term goal (which so happens to be about 100 pounds) for a few items I had fixed my attention to, items that would not benefit me in the least, items that would be gone in a matter of minutes? Why was I so easily able to rationalize skipping a workout or indulging in a treat instead of working harder towards this goal of losing weight and feeling better physically?
Mentally, I answered back the way I feel any other mature adult would...because!!!! That's why!!! Add the very mature eye roll here. Or later, and more accurately, I acknowledged....I don't know. Both are answers that my kids use frequently. Both seem to make perfect sense to them. I didn't fully get it, until this afternoon.
I realized that my habits and actions do not just affect me...my kids are watching. I knew they were...I just didn't think they were watching as closely as they truly are. And they don't even realize it...and that worries me. And that inspires me to want to change.
And it got me to thinking: for a long time, I've felt like I have to hide my weight issue. Maybe if I conceal it and don't talk too much about it, maybe people won't notice. Maybe it won't be there. But if my kids can so easily pick up on little habits and tendencies that I've worked to hide away...then maybe this weight issue is more obvious to everyone around me than I could ever have imagined. I'm not sure if that makes sense or not. I guess it's along the lines of saying, "I never knew I was that big," when you were probably in that spot for quite a long time and kept trying to hide it. Well now I've reached a point where I really have no choice but to deal with it, to talk about it, to seek out some help. And maybe that's okay.
I promise that this whole blog won't be about this Physical Well-Being wrung of the wheel--there's a whole lot more to it than that. This part, however, seems to need to most attention...even though I'm learning that is rarely operates alone. By starting here, I can hopefully start to build equity in each of the areas I'm lacking...and that is definitely, definitely something worth saving up for.
Back to our regular programming...
July is Birthday Month for my two kids. Today is my son Aiden's fifth birthday (LOVE YOU BUD!!), and my daughter Becca will turn 8 on the 25th. It's always a crazy time that we're never quite prepared for, and this year has proved to be no exception.
Becca decided that she wanted to get a bike for her birthday. This irked us a bit, as she already has a decent one that just needs some repair. After chatting a bit, my husband and I decided to make this a "learning experience" for her by having her raise/earn the money for the new bike herself. Then, we will fix up the other one and donate it so another child can have a nice bike. We went to the store today to figure out which bike she wanted and how much she'd need to save, and we figured that with a helmet and tax she'd need to earn about $100. She had a little drama attack (she's exceptionally good at those) and said that it would take YEARS to raise that much. Well, with her birthday money, and any money should could save from odd jobs and allowance, it really won't take her long at all. She got so excited and started doing extra chores this afternoon. Hey, I could get used to this!
Fast forward a few hours, when we went back to the store to get items for Aiden's selected birthday dinner. I had brought Becca with to help, which is either hugely successful or a huge bomb. As we were standing in the check-out, Becca spotted a beef jerky and a bag of trail mix, each costing $1.00. Well, she just HAD to have them! She threw both items on the belt. She asked if I could buy them and she'd pay me from her bike money when we got home. Well, naturally I said no. You'll never raise the money for your bike at this rate, I noted.
This was not going to cut the mustard in her mind. I lost count of the number of times she asked, pleaded, cajoled, and whined during the visit...but I think a hundred is in the right ball park. Add to this the HUGE lines at WalMart, the two phone calls I got while in line, and trying to make sure I paid with the right card, and you've got a very upset Mom!!! Finally, I asked the cashier to remove the items from the belt (this got her HACKED), we finished up, and Becca and I sat on a bench to talk.
I was so angry and frustrated at the scene I felt she'd caused. Over and over, I tried to explain why she couldn't spend the money on these little items when she was trying to save for a bigger prize down the road. I couldn't understand why she'd become so fixated on these little things, things that would be gone in a matter of minutes. And then it hit me, the little voice that I'd tried so hard to block out had knocked down a door in my mind in order to be heard.
"Why should she listen to you, when you do this to yourself all the time??" OUCH.
And what could I say to that? Why was it okay for me to sabotage my long-term goal (which so happens to be about 100 pounds) for a few items I had fixed my attention to, items that would not benefit me in the least, items that would be gone in a matter of minutes? Why was I so easily able to rationalize skipping a workout or indulging in a treat instead of working harder towards this goal of losing weight and feeling better physically?
Mentally, I answered back the way I feel any other mature adult would...because!!!! That's why!!! Add the very mature eye roll here. Or later, and more accurately, I acknowledged....I don't know. Both are answers that my kids use frequently. Both seem to make perfect sense to them. I didn't fully get it, until this afternoon.
I realized that my habits and actions do not just affect me...my kids are watching. I knew they were...I just didn't think they were watching as closely as they truly are. And they don't even realize it...and that worries me. And that inspires me to want to change.
And it got me to thinking: for a long time, I've felt like I have to hide my weight issue. Maybe if I conceal it and don't talk too much about it, maybe people won't notice. Maybe it won't be there. But if my kids can so easily pick up on little habits and tendencies that I've worked to hide away...then maybe this weight issue is more obvious to everyone around me than I could ever have imagined. I'm not sure if that makes sense or not. I guess it's along the lines of saying, "I never knew I was that big," when you were probably in that spot for quite a long time and kept trying to hide it. Well now I've reached a point where I really have no choice but to deal with it, to talk about it, to seek out some help. And maybe that's okay.
I promise that this whole blog won't be about this Physical Well-Being wrung of the wheel--there's a whole lot more to it than that. This part, however, seems to need to most attention...even though I'm learning that is rarely operates alone. By starting here, I can hopefully start to build equity in each of the areas I'm lacking...and that is definitely, definitely something worth saving up for.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Who am I KIDDING?? (Part Two)
The answer to that last, painful question is no. No, he's not wrong at all.
And THAT, I think, was the hardest part of this boot camp experience. While his approach was tough, much tougher than I've experienced, he was not incorrect. That's got me messed up right now.
This wrung of my Wholeness Wheel has been crippled for a long time. It is so hard for me to battle, for many reasons. First, there's so much history behind it that even the benefits you reap don't always satisfy. Proof positive--at the store this afternoon, I sooo badly wanted to get a bag of hot chips. We ate these all the time when I was younger and I love them. Had I gotten them, I would have polished off the entire bag. I have many historically significant food attachments, and each one is a battle. Relatives and times in my life that I miss get reincarnated by food at the slightest emotional dip. And no, we're not talking carrots and yogurt, either. We're talking cinnamon toast, pasties (short "a" sound), and a variety of breads as far as the eye can see.
Second, I am a very visual person, and just seeing a large spread is enough to do me in. I can have pristine intentions, and in some cases a game plan, and it doesn't matter. Remember "if you build it, they will come?" For me, if it's available, it's a problem. Example: at our kids' VBS cookout last night, I went way overboard. I felt like I had to eat a lot, simply because it was available.
Third, and foremost, I let life get in my way and I don't feel I'm worthy of anything different. Here's my subconscious monologue: I'm too stressed to plan ahead. I'm worn out and overwhelmed so I should get to comfort myself. I have to take care of my kids before myself, so what I do doesn't matter. I'm not worthy of success anyway, right??
For so long, I've used all of these as excuses. And yes, at some points in my life I did need these crutches to get by, because they were truly all I had to keep me going. I'm not in that place anymore...but these things became habit and didn't get the memo that I'd moved on with my life. Well, there's the rub: I guess I didn't really move on with my life yet. And that's why today has been so difficult.
I'm not sure what's going to happen from here...but I know that this experience has brought me to a huge crossroads. Will I fight through the pain and the tears and the anger and really move on? How can I let myself stay where I'm at, knowing what I now know? Feeling what I now feel?
If it's any indication, my husband is making me go back to the next boot camp. So, I guess the question has been answered for me this time. I know I'll be thankful for his help, and Wendy's and Becca's. Maybe not today, when I'm so sore. But I will be thankful.
And THAT, I think, was the hardest part of this boot camp experience. While his approach was tough, much tougher than I've experienced, he was not incorrect. That's got me messed up right now.
This wrung of my Wholeness Wheel has been crippled for a long time. It is so hard for me to battle, for many reasons. First, there's so much history behind it that even the benefits you reap don't always satisfy. Proof positive--at the store this afternoon, I sooo badly wanted to get a bag of hot chips. We ate these all the time when I was younger and I love them. Had I gotten them, I would have polished off the entire bag. I have many historically significant food attachments, and each one is a battle. Relatives and times in my life that I miss get reincarnated by food at the slightest emotional dip. And no, we're not talking carrots and yogurt, either. We're talking cinnamon toast, pasties (short "a" sound), and a variety of breads as far as the eye can see.
Second, I am a very visual person, and just seeing a large spread is enough to do me in. I can have pristine intentions, and in some cases a game plan, and it doesn't matter. Remember "if you build it, they will come?" For me, if it's available, it's a problem. Example: at our kids' VBS cookout last night, I went way overboard. I felt like I had to eat a lot, simply because it was available.
Third, and foremost, I let life get in my way and I don't feel I'm worthy of anything different. Here's my subconscious monologue: I'm too stressed to plan ahead. I'm worn out and overwhelmed so I should get to comfort myself. I have to take care of my kids before myself, so what I do doesn't matter. I'm not worthy of success anyway, right??
For so long, I've used all of these as excuses. And yes, at some points in my life I did need these crutches to get by, because they were truly all I had to keep me going. I'm not in that place anymore...but these things became habit and didn't get the memo that I'd moved on with my life. Well, there's the rub: I guess I didn't really move on with my life yet. And that's why today has been so difficult.
I'm not sure what's going to happen from here...but I know that this experience has brought me to a huge crossroads. Will I fight through the pain and the tears and the anger and really move on? How can I let myself stay where I'm at, knowing what I now know? Feeling what I now feel?
If it's any indication, my husband is making me go back to the next boot camp. So, I guess the question has been answered for me this time. I know I'll be thankful for his help, and Wendy's and Becca's. Maybe not today, when I'm so sore. But I will be thankful.
Who am I KIDDING?? (Part One)
If you woke up this morning looking for an interesting way to torture yourself into shape, I've got you covered. Simply check out a boot camp in your area. These classes are definitely not for the faint of heart or the wide of waist. Many of my friends have been attending a boot camp in our area for a while, and you can definitely tell they've been successful in their efforts to shape up and lose weight. My small group leader (Wendy) and a former co-worker (Becca) have encouraged me to try it for a while. Well, with all the changes I've been making for this project, I decided that today was the day to try it for myself.
I think I should rephrase that: I was FREAKING OUT, but decided to see what it was all about anyway. Even though the negative self-talk plagued me from the moment I woke up (you're too fat for this, you're going to look stupid, just stay in bed), somehow I managed to pull my car into the parking lot. That's not to say the bad self-talk didn't affect everything I did: I barely talked to anyone, even my friends. In my mind, I was sparing them the embarrassment of having to talk to the fat girl. I worried over everything: whether I was the biggest one there, whether I'd pass out or throw up, whether I could even complete the darned class.
Probably one of my biggest fears was this: I worried that every other person in that class looked at me and thought, Why on Earth is THAT girl here??? And while I'm not a stranger to this (some girls on our 8th grade Track team actually verbalized this to me when I joined to do shot-put), nothing can really prepare you for or make you doubt that thought.
I have to share a few facts with you about the experience:
1. I made it through the class, although very sore and a little flu-like now. But, I am still breathing. On my own. No resuscitation needed.
2. I've had two children, both by C-sections that brought complications and held long recovery times. This boot camp class, for me, measures up on that level. It was one of the hardest things I have EVER done.
Just the warm-up had me hyperventilating. I had to find a spot to sit, hand on my chest with tears streaming down my face. Part of me thought, surely they will come check on me. Surely this will prove that I can't handle this and they will tell me to go home. But no one came. Eventually, I managed to calm my breathing and headed back for more torture.
After several more activities, our instructor (is that the right word? Drill sergeant, for a boot camp?) had us pick partners. I didn't move. I did think, oh great. Now someone else will suffer because I can't handle it. I think her name was Denise. I think I apologized to her, at least once. I think that suicide runs are aptly named.
I kept alternating between hyperventilating and biting my tongue so I wouldn't cry, and just being mad. Mad at this stupid class. Mad at this stupid instructor-drill-sergeant. Mad at myself for even being in this position where I couldn't handle it.
And, in typical boot camp fashion, our instructor-drill-sergeant started to try and inspire us. Yeah, you know what I mean there. I can't remember what he said word for word as I was chopping off my tongue with my teeth so I wouldn't start sobbing. But I remember the basic gist: we were putting crap in our bodies, treating ourselves like the crap we ate. We were setting a bad example for our children, our families. We were abusing the gift that God had given us. And none of this would change until we did something different.
I sobbed the whole way home, like a deep down to my soul cry. I was angry, I was humiliated, I was sad.
But I had to ask myself:
Was he wrong?
I think I should rephrase that: I was FREAKING OUT, but decided to see what it was all about anyway. Even though the negative self-talk plagued me from the moment I woke up (you're too fat for this, you're going to look stupid, just stay in bed), somehow I managed to pull my car into the parking lot. That's not to say the bad self-talk didn't affect everything I did: I barely talked to anyone, even my friends. In my mind, I was sparing them the embarrassment of having to talk to the fat girl. I worried over everything: whether I was the biggest one there, whether I'd pass out or throw up, whether I could even complete the darned class.
Probably one of my biggest fears was this: I worried that every other person in that class looked at me and thought, Why on Earth is THAT girl here??? And while I'm not a stranger to this (some girls on our 8th grade Track team actually verbalized this to me when I joined to do shot-put), nothing can really prepare you for or make you doubt that thought.
I have to share a few facts with you about the experience:
1. I made it through the class, although very sore and a little flu-like now. But, I am still breathing. On my own. No resuscitation needed.
2. I've had two children, both by C-sections that brought complications and held long recovery times. This boot camp class, for me, measures up on that level. It was one of the hardest things I have EVER done.
Just the warm-up had me hyperventilating. I had to find a spot to sit, hand on my chest with tears streaming down my face. Part of me thought, surely they will come check on me. Surely this will prove that I can't handle this and they will tell me to go home. But no one came. Eventually, I managed to calm my breathing and headed back for more torture.
After several more activities, our instructor (is that the right word? Drill sergeant, for a boot camp?) had us pick partners. I didn't move. I did think, oh great. Now someone else will suffer because I can't handle it. I think her name was Denise. I think I apologized to her, at least once. I think that suicide runs are aptly named.
I kept alternating between hyperventilating and biting my tongue so I wouldn't cry, and just being mad. Mad at this stupid class. Mad at this stupid instructor-drill-sergeant. Mad at myself for even being in this position where I couldn't handle it.
And, in typical boot camp fashion, our instructor-drill-sergeant started to try and inspire us. Yeah, you know what I mean there. I can't remember what he said word for word as I was chopping off my tongue with my teeth so I wouldn't start sobbing. But I remember the basic gist: we were putting crap in our bodies, treating ourselves like the crap we ate. We were setting a bad example for our children, our families. We were abusing the gift that God had given us. And none of this would change until we did something different.
I sobbed the whole way home, like a deep down to my soul cry. I was angry, I was humiliated, I was sad.
But I had to ask myself:
Was he wrong?
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Life is a highway...
It amazes me sometimes that some days can go so quickly, while other drag slowly by. And yet even some others flow at a nice pace until some task or event comes up, and then you're flung into Ludicrous Speed faster than you can say Spaceballs. Sir, hadn't you better buckle up?
So today marks Day Three of my wholeness project, and I've decided to start by primarily focusing on the Physical Well-Being section of the Wholeness Wheel. In my mind, I'm figuring that I will need to first build the energy, strength, and stamina to tackle all of the wheel's sections and get it back in good stead.
Here are some of the steps I have either started taking or am planning to take in this section:
* First (and sadly, hardest), I am working to eliminate all of my food allergens from my diet. This includes wheat, yeast, eggs, and gluten. You wouldn't think this would be so hard--remove these things and feel better--but I just adore bread. I'm like that lobster lady from Dr. Doolittle, a total glutton for punishment.
* Second, to help things get started, I'm doing a cleanse (check it out here) and upping my water intake by a whole lot. I'm not giving up coffee, at least not yet. I heart coffee. My voice hearts water. My bladder hearts the bathroom.
* I want and need to add in more activity: exercise DVDs (love TaeBo), walking, hopefully even some running as I feel stronger. The best time for me to do so, given our crazy schedule, is first thing in the morning. I learned quickly that I can't just shift into getting up super early. I'm a morning person, but I'm out of practice. So, every morning I'm setting my alarm 5 minutes earlier, and pretty soon I will have built in enough time for a good body-moving.
* Our family is taking a No Fast Food Challenge for thirty days. This means we have got to plan ahead and be prepared. This. is. HARD. It shouldn't be so hard, but it is...
* In general, I want to create a more active lifestyle for our family. Our kids are high energy and need high activity, and it's just plain good for us. However, I grew up without a lot of activity options, so this does NOT come naturally to me at all.
* I'm also trying to add a weight ticker to my blog--for some reason it's not working yet. As of now, my goal is to get down about 101 pounds from my starting weight on July 5th. This is a feat I have never accomplished. I've never been at a healthy weight for my body. It's a huge project, exciting and super scary all at once.
So far I've been met with a pretty even mix of the days I described above. Day One went fairly smoothly, as most of my "day ones" tend to go. I was prepared, I knew what was coming, and even if I didn't like it (like my carb-cutting headaches), I was able to withstand. Day Two was exhausting, and poor planning on our part led to a bad decision come dinner-time...which I deeply regretted this morning. Today, I'm learning some lessons about myself (how I feel when I eat well and when I don't) and I'm feeling some good effects (joints don't hurt quite as much).
I have to really, really remind myself that this is a marathon and not a sprint. I want to dart ahead, I want to throw everything in so that I feel like I'm "giving it my all." Even though I know this course of action rarely works for me, and often leaves me stressed out, burned up, and sick as a dog. I keep plodding after it anyway, because I feel like that's what I'm supposed to do. This is a HUGE struggle for me.
Maybe I'll go take the dog for a walk...
"When the waves are taking you under,
hold on just a little bit longer.
He knows that this is going to make you
stronger, stronger..."
Stronger by Mandisa
So today marks Day Three of my wholeness project, and I've decided to start by primarily focusing on the Physical Well-Being section of the Wholeness Wheel. In my mind, I'm figuring that I will need to first build the energy, strength, and stamina to tackle all of the wheel's sections and get it back in good stead.
Here are some of the steps I have either started taking or am planning to take in this section:
* First (and sadly, hardest), I am working to eliminate all of my food allergens from my diet. This includes wheat, yeast, eggs, and gluten. You wouldn't think this would be so hard--remove these things and feel better--but I just adore bread. I'm like that lobster lady from Dr. Doolittle, a total glutton for punishment.
* Second, to help things get started, I'm doing a cleanse (check it out here) and upping my water intake by a whole lot. I'm not giving up coffee, at least not yet. I heart coffee. My voice hearts water. My bladder hearts the bathroom.
* I want and need to add in more activity: exercise DVDs (love TaeBo), walking, hopefully even some running as I feel stronger. The best time for me to do so, given our crazy schedule, is first thing in the morning. I learned quickly that I can't just shift into getting up super early. I'm a morning person, but I'm out of practice. So, every morning I'm setting my alarm 5 minutes earlier, and pretty soon I will have built in enough time for a good body-moving.
* Our family is taking a No Fast Food Challenge for thirty days. This means we have got to plan ahead and be prepared. This. is. HARD. It shouldn't be so hard, but it is...
* In general, I want to create a more active lifestyle for our family. Our kids are high energy and need high activity, and it's just plain good for us. However, I grew up without a lot of activity options, so this does NOT come naturally to me at all.
* I'm also trying to add a weight ticker to my blog--for some reason it's not working yet. As of now, my goal is to get down about 101 pounds from my starting weight on July 5th. This is a feat I have never accomplished. I've never been at a healthy weight for my body. It's a huge project, exciting and super scary all at once.
So far I've been met with a pretty even mix of the days I described above. Day One went fairly smoothly, as most of my "day ones" tend to go. I was prepared, I knew what was coming, and even if I didn't like it (like my carb-cutting headaches), I was able to withstand. Day Two was exhausting, and poor planning on our part led to a bad decision come dinner-time...which I deeply regretted this morning. Today, I'm learning some lessons about myself (how I feel when I eat well and when I don't) and I'm feeling some good effects (joints don't hurt quite as much).
I have to really, really remind myself that this is a marathon and not a sprint. I want to dart ahead, I want to throw everything in so that I feel like I'm "giving it my all." Even though I know this course of action rarely works for me, and often leaves me stressed out, burned up, and sick as a dog. I keep plodding after it anyway, because I feel like that's what I'm supposed to do. This is a HUGE struggle for me.
Maybe I'll go take the dog for a walk...
"When the waves are taking you under,
hold on just a little bit longer.
He knows that this is going to make you
stronger, stronger..."
Stronger by Mandisa
Monday, July 4, 2011
Jesus, take the wheel
While doing some research to get ready to start this new blog, I came across some interesting ideas. I'm growing more and more convinced that I'm not the only one in need of this pursuit for wholeness and healing. I came across everything from existential wholeness (the coined-term holescence) to new age-y type wholeness (visit the HolEssence Healing Studio in Crystal Lake). Quite interesting...
Eventually, I came across this Wholeness Wheel (check out the link here), and I finally felt like I was on the right track. Apparently, the author of the article, Rev. Kent Mueller, received this wholeness wheel from his medical insurance company. What a great concept, because it's so true! When you are off in one of these areas, the whole wheel (your life) feels a bit off kilter. The example Mr. Mueller gave was of his recent bout with bronchitis. When you're sick, most likely you're not exercising or sleeping well, and you're probably much less productive in your vocation. Plus, the spiritual well-being component is so often overlooked, and I don't want to bypass it any more. I should be turning to God in everything and with everything...and if I'm not, there's really not much of a chance this wheel will ever right itself.
I think I will use this wheel as a guide as I proceed into this project...which officially kicks off TOMORROW!
This weekend has been a major celebration for me: my husband and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary. I think that nowadays, this is a major compliment by any standards. For me, moving past the point at which my parents' marriage ended has been monumental. It's like a weight has been lifted, a new chapter has started. I'm starting on an unmarred path. And it's not a moment that I am going to take lightly.
So, this weekend through today (Independence Day--in more ways than two!) has been a celebration. I've eaten what I wanted, rested when I wanted, done what I wanted, truly savored this place I'm in now. Tomorrow, it's time to get down to work and put my wholeness wheel back to rights...but not by myself. I'll be back tomorrow to explain more about what's going to be changing. I'm nervous and excited and a million other things. I can't wait to see where this next chapter of my life leads me.
"Jesus, take the wheel, take it from my hands
'cause I can't do this on my own.
I'm letting go, so give me one more chance.
Save me from this road I'm on."
Jesus Take the Wheel by Carrie Underwood
Sunday, July 3, 2011
The Courage to Start
"It's time for healing, time to move on.
It's time to fix what's been broken too long;
Time to make right what has been wrong.
It's time to find my way to where I belong."
Whatever You're Doing, by Santcus Real
The start of this blog has been a long time in the making, for many reasons. In part, my raging perfectionist tendencies wouldn't let me start until I had the perfect everything (blog title, post text, you name it). Good thing I overcame that...at least for today. In part, the issues that I'm hoping to cover in this blog are issues I have dealt with for a long time, issues that I would much rather just forget.
In fact, if we're getting technical, this blog should have been started over a year ago. I left my job as the assistant director for a fine arts school/ministry, one of the hardest yet most important decisions I have made to date. I decided when I left that the next year of my life would be devoted to healing and starting over; the stress and frustration of my job, my singing, and my life in general had really taken a toll. I didn't feel like I knew down from up, and I had little to no clue what direction my life should take next. I was completely lost.
...and yet, here we are. Since this is just Post One, I won't delve too much into why I am still stuck here. I'll have plenty of time for that! Let's just say that I dug myself into a deeper hole, and I don't like to give up my shovel for just anyone.
Last week, I started reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin (check out http://www.happinessprojecttoolbox.com/), and I totally fell in love. Her book has rekindled the fire I had last year to improve myself and believe in something different. I was so excited, I decided to start my own project...with a slightly different focus.
I didn't just want to be happier, though many days that would more than suffice. I wanted to be more confident. I wanted to find peace. I wanted to seek healing. I wanted to be whole. And I knew that this time, it wouldn't be enough to just say that I wanted those things. I'd need to actively pursue them, and I'd need some accountability along the way.
Once I decided that I wanted to do this with a blog rather than my pen-and-paper journal (I know, I know), The Wholeness Project came to be. I'm really excited to start this journey, and I hope you'll follow me, support me, pray for me, and share your stories as well!
In her book Made to Crave (http://www.madetocrave.org/), Lysa TerKeurst talks about her journey through weight loss and food dependence. She explains that this isn't a once-and-done kind of project. It was a constant battle and reminder to turn to God in everything, to always be thinking ahead, and to make the courageous choice. You never know what one courageous choice, mustering the courage to start something, can do.
So, here we go. I am putting myself out there. I am praying for acceptance. I know there will be bumps in the road, and that the road won't be covered in a few days or weeks. But I do know that, for the sake of my family and myself, I need to find the courage to start. And I pray the same for you.
"When you take that first step into the unknown, He won't let you go."
Walk on the Water, by Britt Nicole
It's time to fix what's been broken too long;
Time to make right what has been wrong.
It's time to find my way to where I belong."
Whatever You're Doing, by Santcus Real
The start of this blog has been a long time in the making, for many reasons. In part, my raging perfectionist tendencies wouldn't let me start until I had the perfect everything (blog title, post text, you name it). Good thing I overcame that...at least for today. In part, the issues that I'm hoping to cover in this blog are issues I have dealt with for a long time, issues that I would much rather just forget.
In fact, if we're getting technical, this blog should have been started over a year ago. I left my job as the assistant director for a fine arts school/ministry, one of the hardest yet most important decisions I have made to date. I decided when I left that the next year of my life would be devoted to healing and starting over; the stress and frustration of my job, my singing, and my life in general had really taken a toll. I didn't feel like I knew down from up, and I had little to no clue what direction my life should take next. I was completely lost.
...and yet, here we are. Since this is just Post One, I won't delve too much into why I am still stuck here. I'll have plenty of time for that! Let's just say that I dug myself into a deeper hole, and I don't like to give up my shovel for just anyone.
Last week, I started reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin (check out http://www.happinessprojecttoolbox.com/), and I totally fell in love. Her book has rekindled the fire I had last year to improve myself and believe in something different. I was so excited, I decided to start my own project...with a slightly different focus.
I didn't just want to be happier, though many days that would more than suffice. I wanted to be more confident. I wanted to find peace. I wanted to seek healing. I wanted to be whole. And I knew that this time, it wouldn't be enough to just say that I wanted those things. I'd need to actively pursue them, and I'd need some accountability along the way.
Once I decided that I wanted to do this with a blog rather than my pen-and-paper journal (I know, I know), The Wholeness Project came to be. I'm really excited to start this journey, and I hope you'll follow me, support me, pray for me, and share your stories as well!
In her book Made to Crave (http://www.madetocrave.org/), Lysa TerKeurst talks about her journey through weight loss and food dependence. She explains that this isn't a once-and-done kind of project. It was a constant battle and reminder to turn to God in everything, to always be thinking ahead, and to make the courageous choice. You never know what one courageous choice, mustering the courage to start something, can do.
So, here we go. I am putting myself out there. I am praying for acceptance. I know there will be bumps in the road, and that the road won't be covered in a few days or weeks. But I do know that, for the sake of my family and myself, I need to find the courage to start. And I pray the same for you.
"When you take that first step into the unknown, He won't let you go."
Walk on the Water, by Britt Nicole
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)