It’s always difficult to begin something new. A new sport or a new job… or building a new business (for example).

While here on Kaua’i, I’m building my life coaching practice. So far, I absolutely love it. And Kaua’i has been kind to me. I am beginning to think of my time here as an incubator of sorts. I moved here in October and began my certification program immediately. I will be leaving here at the end of May and hope to graduate June 7. I didn’t plan it that way, but if it works out, it’ll be quite lovely.

I realize starting a business takes time and patience. Here in Hawaii, I figure I’m laying the groundwork and building a solid foundation. I have a lot of ideas and a lot of plans. I keep reminding myself they won’t happen overnight.

I’ve started a blog over at Expand Outdoors and I’d love it (if you haven’t already) if you click over there and take a look. I’m attempting to write a lot more often and there may be some overlap, but I’ll also be experimenting more with my writing here. AmeliaCarolyn isn’t going away.

In the meantime, as I get used to having two blogs, two twitter handles (@ameliacarolyn and @expandoutdoors) and a facebook fan page, my postings here will very likely be a lot more sporadic (not that they haven’t always been fairly sporadic, I admit). I’ll also be posting links to my blog at Expand Outdoors every so often to help get the word out that I’m over there, too. If you like what you read, feel free to pass it along, share with your friends and family.

Here are the latest posts:

March 14: It’s Never Too Late to Play Outside

March 17: Barefoot Hiking

March 19: Links for 3.19.10: Expansion, Inspiration and Motivation

March 22: Creating Awareness and Kicking the Habit of Blah

March 24: Book Review: The Girl’s Guide to Surfing

March 26: Nutrition, Inspiration and a Little Surf Fun: links for 3.26.10

Let me know what you think. Wishing you a wonderful week ahead. Aloha!

I realized something recently. Maybe it’s something y’all have known. Maybe this isn’t new. But maybe it’s something that bears repeating.

Action does not need to be physical.

I am an active woman. I enjoy moving. I enjoy the physicality of being in the world. I enjoy touching and feeling things as I learn about them. I have to do to really feel I understand. I love the feeling of my heart racing after a good workout. I love the feeling of joy when my body moves with grace and precision.

But for me—and this is what I’ve realized—sometimes the mental work I do is just (if not more?) important.

The past couple of weeks I’ve been feeling pretty overwhelmed, displaced and missing the familiarity of Colorado (despite the frigid temps I’ve been hearing about). Yoga has been feeling more and more of an obligation. Surfing was creating anxiety and I found myself questioning “why?”

Why do I want to surf? What’s so cool about it? It’s hard. I suck. It’s cold and getting colder. Why did I commit to six days a week of Bikram yoga? My body hurts. It’s in the middle of the day.

I struggled and fought with myself for days. I made myself go to yoga. I went to the beach and cried when my friends went out in the waves and I stayed back, feeling like a complete wimp and failure.

So I stopped. I skipped yoga one day. I stayed home and worked all day. I didn’t go surfing. I read and napped on the beach. I journaled about my confusion, trying to understand the contradicting voices in my head: “i love surfing”; “i don’t want to go into the water to surf.”

I filled pages in my journal. I explored the questions swirling around in the morass that can be my brain when I get overwhelmed.

I stopped doing. I skipped yoga again two days this week. I went to the beach and absolutely loved watching my friends surf. And through the journaling, watching my friends, and reconnecting to the water mentally, I realized that my love of the sport of surfing hadn’t died (whew!). I do want to put forth the effort required to do it well. (Or, since the learning curve is so exasperatingly slow, somewhat competently.) I do want to be in the water, tumbling into waves lost and finding my balance as the wave moves under me.

I think if I’d continued to force myself to “just get out there and do it”; or pushed myself to keep up my yoga streak of six days a week, I’d be so worn down that none of it would be fun anymore. And I believe in fun. I believe in the power of the connection between our minds and our bodies. It’s a powerful connection that can hide itself if we’re not aware.

If we’re not aligned, we lose sight of the fun. We lose sight of our motivation and our purpose in the doing. Doing for doing’s sake gets boring and exhausting.

So my realization tonight, as I think about my morning yoga class and my late afternoon surf session, is that my break was needed. Mental action is often vital to keeping our love of physical action balanced and in check. In fact, I may go so far as to say that breaks are not only needed, but essential.

I am smiling tonight and feeling worked. My back hurts. My legs and arms are feeling jelly-like and I am smiling and feeling good.

a beginning

a beginning

Yoga is teaching me a lot these days. Building a solid foundation is just one, but it might be the most important thing I learn on this adventure.

life happens
Our move to Hawaii is one of a number of new things in my life. There’s the new marriage, the education and launch of a new career, and a new fitness/workout/nutritional routine. I feel like I’ve swept away aspects of my life that were based on bad habits, or that I’d outgrown, or simply weren’t serving me anymore, and I now have a clean slate to begin building “awesome.”

I’m not saying that my life up to this point has been horrible. Quite the contrary. It’s led me here, and here is—quite frankly—amazing. But I needed a change.

And now, I have before me an incredible opportunity. One where I can very deliberately and consciously create a life that fits me now and paves a path toward a future that feels right.

So often life seems to happen to us. Time goes by and we find ourselves looking back and wondering how we got to where ever it is we are. Maybe we stayed on the path our parents took. Or we assumed that now that “x” had happened, it was time for “y.” And years later we realize that “y” just wasn’t right for us and who told us that that was our path anyway?

Society, influences, assumptions, time—it’ so easy to get caught up in it and forget to ask ourselves key questions every now and again. “What do I want to do with my life?” “Am I living a life I love?” “Is there something more out there that I can do?” “Am I truly happy with the life I’ve chosen?”

It’s easy to forget that time goes quickly. And it’s easy to go through life never realizing that we have the power and ability to create the life we want and dream of.

openness
For me, after realizing I was unhappy with my career last year, I took time to explore and discover what I wanted to do. I started a company that spun off from my marketing career, thinking I would enjoy that until I found my true passion. Although there were aspects I truly enjoyed, the overall excitement and motivation I was hoping for was absent. However, what it did help me to do is identify what I didn’t want to do (which is actually quite valuable information).

Once I realized that I needed to focus my energy on figuring out what I did want to do, I stayed open to whatever was presented. I noticed what inspired me. I paid attention to what lit up my eyes and kept me talking. What was it that made me smile? Think? What brought out my passion? What books did I read? What articles and blogs did I enjoy?

A month before moving here, I chose a new career path. I committed to going through a certification program to become a life coach, and my intuition hints that this is only the beginning of something amazing. The classes I’m taking and the certification is only the first step. There is more to be done in my life and more to accomplish. The possibilities are vast and open.

shaking things up
It’s great to have a path and direction in life that feels good. It’s a heady feeling filled with excitement and motivation. But there are challenges ahead. And as with anything new, your foundation is what everything else is built upon.

There are wonderful things in store for me, but I need to maintain my vision of where I’m headed amidst all the change. How do I do this? How can I prevent myself from falling into the same ruts and same routines I’m familiar (and frankly quite comfortable with)? How does one build a new foundation at the age of 36?

Hanalei Bay, Kaua'i

Hanalei Bay, Kaua'i

For starters, I’ve moved to Kaua’i. Thousands of miles away from a home I’ve known for 14 years. I am on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Romantic and exotic? Sure. Challenging and a little bit scary? Absolutely!

But what I love most about it is the chance to begin. Fresh. New. I am shaking up long-held beliefs and patterns in my life. I am rebuilding.

the wisdom of yoga
One of the other big changes I’m making here in Kaua’i is taking a hiatus from running—my sure-fire cure for emotional turmoil—and committing to yoga every day except Sundays. Over 150 days of exercise that will break down my body, cleanse toxins from my system and will challenge every cell, molecule, muscle fiber, tendon and ligament throughout my body to be stronger.

The postures and flexibility won’t happen overnight. It won’t happen in one week, but over time, I will have altered my alignment, my overall health, endurance, strength and flexibility.

As I embark on week four, I’ve realized that yoga has much to teach. Not only with my body, but in my approach to all things new.

building a strong foundation
In yoga, one cannot be successful in any posture without a solid foundation. Balance and strength begin in the feet. The connection of the feet to the ground must be balanced. The legs engaged and strong. The core muscles solid, supporting the back and head. The arms and hands firm and stable. The head straight and the eyes focused.

Without a solid foundation throughout the entire body, moving into new postures, or moving deeper within a posture is difficult. And if you move too early, you can fall, or simply not get the benefit the posture was designed to give.

And if you have a solid foundation and push deeper, you have more resources for balance and success.
There are two key lessons I’ve learned in yoga that I hold onto during class, that have begun to transfer into other areas of my life as I approach new changes and growth:

  • build and keep my foundation strong.
  • relax into it.
P1040462_2

standing bow

starting slow
For the first full week of yoga, I didn’t push my postures or go fully into them (even the ones that are easier for me). I focused on my feet and my balance. I went close to the edge of my comfort and then backed off.

Why not push through? Because having a solid foundation—in yoga and pretty much anywhere in life—allows you to build a strong structure so when you’re ready to take a leap, you can. In yoga, it strengthens your muscles and creates the awareness of what you need to do to stay grounded. In life, it strengthens your mind and your relationships and creates the awareness you need for what the future might bring.

It takes patience and discipline, but is well worth it when you’re struggling and you fall (which you will at times). If your foundation is strong, you can return to it, rest there, gather your energy and build upon it. If there is no foundation; if you go into a full-blown balancing posture and waver, you’ll not only fall, but risk hurting yourself.

As I begin moving into the postures deeper, I am grateful for the foundation I have built. I can feel the internal strength and sense of balance within. I know that there will be some postures I’ll move into quicker than others—and there will be some that will take years to progress and perfect.

That’s okay. It gives me time to keep building that foundation and stability.

all things slow
The pace of life on Kaua’i is slow. Time passes, yet there is a stronger sense of calm. There is a sense that there is time for things. I’m not worried I won’t have time for this or that. I wake up early and work. I go to Bikram yoga. I eat well. Sometimes I cook. I go to the beach and surf if the waves are good, and I read (or nap) in the sun if they’re not.

Every day in yoga I am reminded that I am not only building a foundation for class, but I am building one for my life. In everything that I am doing right now, the foundation is the key.

  • In yoga, for a strong connection between the mind and body.
  • For a new career, to lay the groundwork for abundance.
  • To gain the ability to balance (and stay) on top of a moving, fiberglass board.
  • And to build a strong marriage that will weather the tides of life.
P1040252

relaxing into our future

relaxing into the process
Relaxing into the process—whether it happens in a day, a month or over years—allows the foundation to settle.

I am learning to relax into life (instead of pushing and attempting to exert control over it). I believe that when our foundation is strong; that when we create a solid vision for ourselves; that we can then relax and breathe steady. We have the ability to allow our foundation to guide us into the next phase of the process—where ever it may take us.

And if we falter, or change direction, we have a solid foundation upon which to land.

being.

Sometimes I find it hard to simply (and consciously and deliberately) “be” without thinking about where I just was, or where I’d like my life to be tomorrow, or in a week or maybe in five years from now. It’s hard not to think about what might make it (whatever my present reality is) better—even if I’m currently really happy with it.

Over coffee in the back garden of Espressoria the other morning, my good friend and I were talking about my upcoming plans to move to Hawaii for six months this winter. It’ll be the first time in my life I’ve moved somewhere without a set plan on where I’m staying or exactly how long I’ll be there. I think about the adjustment. I think about the challenges and the newness of it all. I think about the adventure and about experiencing this together with my (new, yay!) husband.

Our conversation began to center around a conundrum we all seem to face (similar to “the grass is always greener” and “you always want what you can’t have”) of wanting what we used to have or what we see as “better” or “easier.” There’s the flexibility vs. structure continuum. Those with 8-5 jobs yearn for the freedom to set their own schedules and go play when they want to; those with flexible jobs yearn for more structure so they know when to stop working and can go play without a sense of guilt for not working.

Sick vs. healthy (or more often in my world, the injured vs. healthy) is another one I’m often faced with. Healthy but unmotivated or tired, I think about the rest one gets from being sick or injured (the kind that forces your body to slow down). And when I’m sick or hurt, all I want to do is get out of the house and go running, or clean or do something.

It’s hard to find a balance, and sometimes I wonder if it’s really balance I’m after. Maybe it’s simply the ability to accept what is. I appreciate the ups and downs of my life. I love the feeling when things are going well; when the energy is flowing and things feel good. And when they’re not, I find a renewed appreciation and gratitude for those good times and try to take advantage of the extra down time to rest the body and the mind.

So here’s my Thursday morning musing and thought … I am happy to be. Right now. Today. At 9:17am. And in each moment, I will remember that whereever I am, I am good. Life is good. And by wishing and dreaming too much about what isn’t, I’m missing what is.

I have a feeling that I will need to remember this over and over again… but over time, I know it’ll get easier. With more experience and with more wisdom, I can be a little more often each day.

the space between
We seem to be a society that “does” a lot. We work. We socialize. We recreate. Yet sometimes it seems we don’t do much between the doing—whatever it is we’re doing. It’s constant movement.

I talk a lot on this blog about being conscious of our lives and being present for them, and making decisions with our eyes open and with meaning.

It matters what we do between our “doings.” It matters that in music, we rest. The silences between the notes and rhythms accent, prepare and complement the notes themselves.

It matters that we stretch and eat right between running, or biking or any other type of physical activity. Stretching our legs and gaining core strength decreases our risk of injury and works to ensure we’ll be active for years.

It matters that we take time for ourselves between relationships and careers. Taking the time to review our mistakes and get to know and reconnect with our inner selves can solidify our sense of self and place in the world, thereby bringing forth a stronger, more confident self into the next chapter.

The space between matters.

expectations and breath
I (and our society at large) seem to have internal expectations that we must always be “doing something” in order to be successful. Leisure time is wasting time, right? I disagree. I’ve heard the “you can sleep when you’re dead” mantra before and wonder how it came to be something to value or to look up to. Resting between action is vital to our mental, physical and emotional health.

Pay attention to your next breath. To breathe in, one must breathe out. There is a natural pause when the exchange happens.

space in action
even in action, what we do between our movements and judgments matters. I signed up for a Parkour class a few months ago and the instructor, Ryan, gave us this advice (paraphrased):

Those who are the best at this discipline are constantly scanning their environment and perfecting their movements between the obstacles. It’s what they do to get into the right position before they make a big move, and what they do to land safely after each jump that makes them so good.

peace with inaction
And from this idea, I realize that all the time I’ve taken between jobs… the worries, the frustrations, the time I felt I’d wasted, and the ideas generated are all good things. Because I now realize that when my next career launches in full force, I’ll have scanned my environment; stretched my mind; and I’ll have paused to feel the rhythm of my life. And all of that information I’ve gathered will result in focused energy and knowledge for my next big move.

the “g” word
March has been a busy month for me. It’s been a frustrating training month for a variety of reasons. As some of you know, I have signed up for my first 50-mile trail run. Yep, you read that correctly… 50 miles. 

As part of my training, I recently completed the Moab Red Hot 50K+ on Valentine’s Day. I ran 34 miles and finished strong. It was afterwards that I fell apart. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but logging a total of 70 miles for the entire month of March (that should be my weekly mileage this close to my race), is a clear indication that something isn’t quite right. And it’s certainly not the recommended way to train.

My best guess as to what happened is this: I didn’t put in enough training miles leading up to the 50K, so I didn’t recover as quickly as I’d hoped. I then fell out of the habit of training and continued to put it off. I indulged in making up tons of excuses as to why I couldn’t run (too tired; too busy; too much in pain; too snowy; etc.). Granted, I started a new part-time job in March, began to plan my wedding in ernest, caught a bad cold and was, in general, feeling extremely fatigued and unmotivated. But those are merely excuses and justifications. I made a commitment to myself.

While I was justifying all the missed runs to myself, I was also adding stress because I knew I needed to be running. And not running or training added to my stress levels because of the “G” word.

Guilt.

I knew I wasn’t putting in the mileage I needed. I felt like I’d lost the key to my motivation and commitment. I wasn’t enjoying the runs I did go on. I felt weak. I felt like I was actively failing not only in my training, but in life management. Negativity begets more negativity… a nasty cycle.

permission
So  here is April. Blue skies, spring around the corner and my race exactly one month from today. I am resting today. I have given myself permission to take today off. It’s a tough thing to do. I cannot make up the miles I missed. To even make an attempt to do so is training suicide. I’d run myself into the ground, risking injury and would be fatigued and depleted for race-day. So what to do?

Being a fairly driven woman who believes in staying active and purposeful, I am still learning to juggle multiple jobs and to navigate the balance of self-employment. A day off for me rarely feels like a luxury. It often feels like I should be doing something “useful” or “constructive.” I think about all the projects I have on my “to-do” list. I think of all the things I could be doing to generate an income. I think of all the miles I could be running to make up for the absent miles of March. I don’t feel productive. I don’t feel like I “deserve” the day of rest.

But here’s the thing I know intellectually (but it’s still difficult to execute in reality). I know that giving myself a mental and physical break, or rest day, is essential to increased efficiency and motivation. Running 50 miles is more than a physical effort—It’s a lot of mental strength. And if my brain is mired in guilt and rumination and self-flagellation, that 50 miles will become 100, or 1,000. An impossible length to run because my brain is busy elsewhere (likely telling me I can’t do it).

And with regards to my job, if I work and work and work without a break, and without time to process the thoughts and efforts going into the work, any inspiration and motivation will be overcome with frustration and mis-guided effort. It’ll become harder to get things done. It’ll take more time to get things done because half my brain isn’t there. It’s stuck in the land of guilt.

execution
I’ve given myself permission to take a rest day today. And not only permission, but I scheduled it. I planned on taking today off. It’s a funny thing, scheduling it. It works to ward off the guilt. I was mentally prepared (and even excited) to wake up and do with this day what I wanted.

And here I am, happily getting some things done that have suffered in the past month (my blog, reading, calming the mind). They don’t feel like extraneous or irresponsible things to be doing. 

It feels good to be writing again (I’ve missed it). If feels good to drink my coffee and catch up on my reading. And it’s going to feel really good to curl up on the couch with my current book

Tomorrow I will go on my scheduled run. I will catch up on my work emails and cross more things off that to-do list.

I am excited about running again. And I know that while I may suffer a little (or a lot) for not putting in the miles I’d wanted, I will finish the race. I will be present mentally and that’s going to be half the battle. I’ve adjusted my strategy a little to save energy I’ll need. But I will run and I will finish. And I will NOT try to “make up” for March. 

And for the next race, maybe I’ll train a little smarter and a little better.


I struggle in my daily search for balance. I strive to keep myself grounded among all the contradictions I find myself faced with. There’s a feeling much like tug-of-war between my core self and the values I feel are important to me, and the society that surrounds me and the habits I grew up with.

I was on a 22-mile training run recently and the topic of these contradictions came up. We talked about our shared desire to simplify and purge, with the desire for “stuff” and “things.” It was a timely discussion as I’d been thinking about it a lot lately, both with regards to the process of planning a wedding and the discipline needed to stay within a strict budget. It was refreshing to hear that others experience a similar struggle.

what influences me?
I admit it. I like things. Particular “things” have an ability to make me happy. I love the cute tops at PrAna and finding a great pair of climbing pants on sale. I love buying pretty journals and flowers for the table. I love quality food and good wine. I prefer cashmere over cotton. And I want a cool lamp for my office, the new updated software that just came out (take your pick) and a new pair of shoes for that dress I just bought on sale.

I also like space (and a dislike for clutter and mess). I prefer a minimalist style of decor (think Dwell). It’s one of the reasons I think Colorado fits me so well. I feel calm and connected when I have a view of the wide, open spaces with the endless blue skies stretching out before me. I like the idea of living simply and honestly. I want to do things in ways that lessen my impact on the earth.

representing our values.
Around the time I turned 30, my world seemed to open up a little bit. I’m not sure where exactly it started, but I remember working hard to learn more about why I wasn’t where I’d thought I’d be in life at that time. And I think it’s about the time the idea of planning a wedding began to seem more and more remote. I spent years pushing the idea of a wedding below the surface. I was single and decided to create an alternate path for my future that didn’t include marriage.

Journey A: I meet someone and we get married.
Journey B: I don’t meet someone and never get married. 

They were simple paths that BOTH led to happiness and success in my mind. I was okay with the alternate plan and felt good that it allowed a new definition for a “successful” life that didn’t include getting married, or possibly the absence of a life partner. It was exciting and refreshing to think that there may be something else out there for me.

I grew up in white, middle-class suburbia. Getting married for me and my sister was a no-other-option-really-crossed-our-minds expectation. We didn’t questions that {gasp!} we might not get married. So I found great comfort and empowerment through my early 30s when I realized that that particular line of thinking could be quite disastrous. Would I be less of a person if it didn’t happen? Less of a success? Would my life be meaningless?

As these questions began to come up, I saw the irrational argument in them; the recipe for unhappiness and disillusionment if I continued that line of thinking. I am thankful that I didn’t have to think too hard or dig too deep to realize and acknowledge that marriage was simply another experience in life that some (okay, most) people experience and others don’t. I knew deep down it did not lessen my individual importance.

The acceptance of this thought was part no-brainer and part revolutionary. It opened up so many ideas and possibilities.

delving deeper
I started digging deeper and asking myself more probing questions. What else have I assumed about life that might not be exactly true? What other assumptions do I operate under that might not be the only way?

And so it began… new experiences before me; perceptions shifted; the comfortable and the easy questioned. My life opened in more ways than I can articulate. Like the Colorado sky, my world stood before me open and inviting.

the struggle of contradictions.
Alas, with these new ideas swirling in my head, I’ve realized that the easy way is easy for a reason. You don’t have to think about it. Easy tends to happen to us.

Thinking about, and choosing a new way to operate is certainly not an easy or intuitive path. Because I’d learned how to live (and had been living) the “easy” way for 30 years, changing my reactions, habits and behaviors didn’t come natural to me (and still doesn’t).

For example, since expanding my palate for fresh and healthy food, I have learned how to cook chicken and steam veggies. Yet I default to spaghetti or grilled cheese when I’m really hungry because it’s easy. And familiar.

I love bringing my own bags to the grocery store instead of using their plastic ones, yet I often forget to bring them along. I love my new townie and love being free of my car for going about town. But I default to my car when it’s cold, or I’m running late or when I’m just tired.

continuing on the path
And so it goes with the many changes and plans I’m making these days. I have posted before about the transitions I’ve been going through: Sharing a new home. Preparing for a wedding and a marriage. I left a safe job for new opportunities and to explore other career directions.

The experience of planning my wedding has been such a clear magnification of the contradictions I experience on a personal (and larger) perspective. I want simple and intimate, and I want 150 close friends and family to celebrate and bear witness. I want to throw a kick-ass party with wine and beer flowing, and I want the non-drinking contingency of our families to feel comfortable.

I want to honor the occasion and commitment with certain traditions yet want to avoid the hoopla and “Wedding Industry Complex.” I have imagined creating pretty, handmade invitations and favors… yet know those will be thrown away eventually and forgotten. And I know deep in my core that it’s the community and connection that will be cherished and remembered. The color of the table linens or the food we provide will not be noticed.

I struggle to know what will feel important to me in hindsight. Will I regret not paying attention to more of the details? Or might I regret not taking it seriously “enough” and come away with a feeling that I’d been too casual for such an important moment in my life?

Life is about the moments. I get it. I believe it. And I strive to live it, and I want to honor each and every one. Yet the pull of material and tangible things is just that: a pull. When do I resist? When do I push back against it and when do I let go and accept that it’s okay to have things sometimes?

the collective consciousness of consumerism.
We are inundated with messages to “buy now” and to compare ourselves with what others have (or don’t). There are very few examples of how to live simply. We have to dig to find them. Or somehow stumble upon them. We’re rarely shown how to say “no” and stand strong. This post speaks to it quite eloquently, yet I found it because a good friend wrote it. It’s not on the front page of cnn (although maybe it should be).

The path I have chosen is not an easy path to follow. And I’m not saying it should be easy. On the contrary, I believe hard work creates a deep sense of connection and responsibility for your actions and choices. But I also know it sometimes feels inaccessible.

I find myself doing things that contradict my goals because it’s the way I’ve always done it. Or because it’s easier. Or, most often, I just don’t know about an alternate way to do it. I’m constantly learning and absorbing new information and while it’s exciting and helpful and empowering, it’s also overwhelming, time-consuming and discouraging when it doesn’t happen right away.

so what to do?
I don’t have an answer for you or myself on how to manage the discrepancy of messages in our society; finding a sense of balance between our pasts, and our desires for the futures. But there are a few things I do try to keep in mind that has helped me these last few years of navigation.

Get to know your core beliefs and keep them in mind. Revisit them and challenge them. Ask yourself, “What do I really believe? What’s really important to me? What resonates inside and makes my heart full?” For me, it’s often rich experiences and meaningful, mutual relationships.

I do believe the safety and comfort of “things” is okay. I believe it’s natural to want to nest and create a home where you can be you and be comfortable. But I also want to make sure it’s really me” that’s wanting certain things, and not the me-others-expect.”

I constantly ask myself, “what makes me smile?” “What makes me feel full? content?” “WHY is this ‘thing’ important to me?” Maybe it’s a shirt. Will it really add to my life? Do I need it or do I want it? And wanting it is fine—as long as I can acknowledge that and feel good about it.

We are the only ones that can answer these questions for ourselves. We cannot look to others to know what’s in our heart.

I believe the key to navigating through the contradictions and being at peace with our own actions is to forgo acting on automatic pilot and be sure we’re making conscious decisions based on our true beliefs, knowledge and what’s in our hearts.

Every birthday, I take stock of the previous year and set goals for ‘my’ year ahead. Over the past year, with so many changes on the horizon, I’d been feeling out of touch with my past selves… the violinist, the ballet dancer, the girl on the pom squad, the college girl, the seamstress, the scrapbooker, the choral singer, the one afraid of hiking too far, the girl who couldn’t bike up a short hill, the girl who thought running 5 miles was a loooong way… 


As I have moved forward into the woman I am today, I seem to shed the old skin of yesterday to make room for today and tomorrow. To create room for the new, I have, at times, stripped away more of the past than I’d wanted. I’ve tried to ‘pick and choose’ the past moments I keep around, hoping to shed the regrets, the shameful/tactless moments and choices, the embarrassments, the identities I don’t relate to much anymore, and to keep all the joyful, generous and graceful moments (ah, but wouldn’t that be nice?).

Alas, all of these ‘selves’ are important and still very much a part of who I am today. They have all been a part of the journey into the woman I have become (and am becoming). 

My goal for this year is to work on integrating the dismissed and ignored moments and selves of my past into my present, with the objective of accepting ALL of me (warts and all) as I take the opportunity to shed a new layer of skin and create a newer, further evolved self–this one wiser, stronger, more courageous and graceful.

However, I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to accomplish this seemingly monumental task of integration.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, I finally got around to signing onto facebook, and all of a sudden, {WHAM!!} people from all stages of my past have appeared, triggering a rush of memories and emotions. 

It continually amazes me how often setting intentions, unlocking doors and opening your eyes can work together to manifest and create exactly what you’re looking for.

I am no longer afraid to peer into my past. I am not that girl anymore, and I am excited to explore, through new and older (and more mature) eyes, the relationships, actions and choices I made in my younger days. I am interested to objectively see myself and accept myself more fully and deeply.

And I am so very grateful for the opportunity to fully integrate my past ‘me’ into my present self.

I’ve been more emotional than usual lately. I like to believe I am generally able to let things ride off my back pretty easily. I like that about myself. However, these past months of upheaval have taken their toll. I’m anxious, easily irritated and frequently feeling the magnification of these moments.
Usually I try to figure out why I’m feeling a certain way (’cause there must be a reason I’m being an ass or crying, right?). I try to analyze recent events for signs of when the balance tipped toward the negative. I try to fight through the feelings, telling myself to simply ‘buck up’ and deal. I try and convince myself that I’m overreacting to something or I’ve misheard a comment, or misinterpreted an event. I try to look on the ‘bright side’ and find something positive to learn from the feelings.
But at some point, after I am fully frustrated for being frustrated and irritable, after I’ve cried what feels like rivers of tears and written pages of potential explanations in my journal, the time comes when I become numb. The feelings just simply overwhelm my system and I shut down. I can’t sleep. I can’t write. I can’t think clearly. All I want to do is curl up and disappear until it all goes away. I begin to believe I deserve the pain. 
No one deserves the pain.
The truth is, no one deserves the pain, yet we all experience it. We so often avoid it because it’s unpleasant. It hurts. We attempt to label anger or sadness with reasons why we feel them to make them seem ‘okay’ or ‘acceptable’ (or at least I do). 
Feelings and emotions need no excuses. They need no explanations–no caveats or embarrassed reasonings (“I haven’t slept well”; “It’s the hormones”; “I don’t know what got into me”).
Feelings simply are. Emotions are
They exist. We cannot separate ourselves from the nasty or unpleasant ones like we can avoid a foul smell. They are part of us and deserve our respect and our acknowledgment. 
We need not apologize for our emotions.
They’ve done nothing wrong. We don’t have to qualify them. Or understand them. We don’t have to minimize them or glorify them. Our sadness is just as vital and important as our joy. Our anger is as integral to our growth as pride and confidence.
We give them power precisely when we try and deny it. Avoidance feeds it. We don’t accept it because it feels bad. It feels weak. It gets in the way of our plans. 
What if?
What would happen if we gave the emptiness our attention? What would happen if we simply gave anger a space to be–no action required? Just provide it a space to be present.
And if we are made up of emotions and expressions and perceptions, don’t we owe it to our anger, our sadness, our fear and loneliness a space within us to exist?
We are so proud of joy and love and exuberance. We share it and talk about our sense of peace and contentment with others. We offer the world our joy and the beauty we see. Yet we hide our anxiety–even from ourselves. We dismiss our restlessness and our loneliness as not worthy.
The more we hide and deny these emotions; the more we push them away and get mad that they hang around–the stronger they become and the more important it becomes to acknowledge them and then let them be.
It’s not wrong.
It is not wrong to feel pain for “no reason.” There doesn’t need to be a reason–just as there needs no explanation when we wake up happy. We can wake up mad as hell and still survive the day. We can feel defeated and empty and alone with a room full of loved ones and it’s not wrong. It’s not ungrateful. 
It’s not anything, but what it is. You feel bad. Period.
Identify it. Accept it. Acknowledge it. And then just keep moving forward. One moment at a time.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.