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."
Friday, August 5, 2011
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???
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)