Who's Living YOUR Life?

Focusing on ourselves is scary. 

Like, really turning our view inwards, seeing what's there, and giving ourselves the care and time we need. 

I mean, taking all that energy we put out there, trying to fix, organize and arrange other peoples' lives and redirect it towards ourselves. 

Could you imagine? 

Even though it's more difficult and, actually, near impossible, to control others' lives, we opt for it because we are afraid to take control of our own. We expend so much energy worrying about things that really don't matter, if we are truly real with ourselves. 

We spend so much time living other people's lives for them... but, who's living ours? 

Don't get me wrong- It's wonderfully caring and giving to worry about others' wellbeings, making sure to do all we can so that those we care for are happy. But, there's a fine line between being helpful and making yourself a martyr. 

Doing so much for others and not doing anything to take care of ourselves isn't doing anyone any favors.

Actually, we're doing them a disservice by not taking care of ourselves.

How can we really provide the best care for others if our wellbeings are not at optimal levels?

I'm not suggesting we neglect everyone in our lives and hole away in a spa to pamper ourselves (although once in a while is actually pretty nice!). 

Balance. It's always about balance.

What I AM suggesting is that we inch ourselves up our hierarchical list of priorities.

Maybe we won't put ourselves at the absolute top, yet. But, by realizing how worthy we are of our own care that we selflessly dole out willy-nilly, we can start taking the necessary steps to show ourselves the love we all individually deserve. 

Reshuffling the Hand We're Dealt

There's someone in my life that I care very much about who has been perpertually miserable for quite some time now. For the sake of anonymity, we'll call her "Daisy." 

Granted, Daisy hasn't had the easiest of lives, she certainly doesn't have the worst life possible- not even close. She may beg to differ as she's been so immersed in her own negative energy for so long that the half-filled portion of her glass may as well be invisible to her. She believes that the only way her life will be better is if the people and situations that surround her change. 

See the problem? 

It's what I always say: Change your perspective, change your experience, change your life. 

There's only so long we should be allowed to indulge ourselves in self-pity. We can keep our faces long and cry about the cards we've been dealt, but after a while that song gets old and tired. After a certain amount of time, it becomes a matter of personal responsibility to take the situation in our own hands and reshuffle the deck, instead of perpetually staring at the crappy hand. 

The Serenity Prayer comes to mind...

"...grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and wisdom to know the difference..."

There are things we have no control over and sometimes that's unfortunate. Daisy can't change the fact that her family members deal with addiction. She can't magically double her income to alleviate her financial woes. She can't take away her parents' pains associated with old age. 

But, she can change her attitude. She can change how she sees things. She can shift her focus on to what she does have to be grateful for, like a home, a steady job that challenges her ample abilities and family that loves her regardless of her grumpiness, instead of honing in on what's not so perfect. She can stop scoffing at me when I suggest she try these things and realize there is no harm in trying something new that would only do her a world of good. 

Today is actually Daisy's birthday. I gave her a hug, wishing her a good day, and she coldly responded to my open arms with what could hardly pass as a hug. She said, "thanks," as if we were passing strangers. 

Later in the day, I got a call from Daisy's family member ooking for gift suggestions, asking if I knew of anything Daisy needed. 

And all I could think of was...

A smile. 

Another Reason to Work Out

Exhale, lift, squeeze, hold, release, inhale, pause....

I was so lost in my meditative state, mid bicep curl, I didn't even notice a friend standing a mere few feet behind me, waving for my attention. 

This is why working out is my escape. 

The mind-body connection is, undoubtedly, highly important to pay attention to in order to avoid injury when lifting weights, but often overlooked is its incredibly centering, calming and empowering potential. It is meditation in motion with an added muscle-challenging intensity.

There are many things that drive my work outs and I've touched on them more than once throughout my relatively young blog. I've gone over why I choose not to work out for the calorie-burning effect, the amazing bond shared in a group fitness class, and the joys of trying something new, among other reasons. This reason is more quiet and strength driven. 

When I train clients, I try my best to make sure they understand the reasons for why they are performing a certain exercise. I don't care so much that they can lift something up and put something down- that's all well and good, but we'd both be doing each other a great disservice if I were just being paid to watch that happen. 

I want clients to understand what muscle they are working and why it matters. I want them to focus on the contraction and relaxation of the muscle fibers and mentally hone in on the firing of the nerves. I want them to not only strengthen their skeletal muscle, but their mind-body connection muscle as well. Working out then becomes a total experience.

Within the 24 hours of our day, there is already far too many actions that we mindlessly move through the motions of. Most of our days are spent on autopilot as we repeat the same things, follow the same schedules and carry out the same tasks, day in and day out. Personally, I believe we can all benefit from daily practice of being in the moment, even if only for a few minutes at a time. 

It would all do us good to learn to slow everything down and just breathe. 

But, I get a lot of scoffs when I try to get people to actually take time to sit. And breathe. and do nothing else. 

Sometimes, I don't even have the patience for that. 

So this is my alternative when I'm not trying my darndest to practice seated meditation. 

Exhale, lift, squeeze, hold, release, inhale, pause....

Strengthening my mind as I strengthen my body with every rep, every set, every workout. 

There's nothing like it. 

Ahhh....

"Make it a Great Day"

In high school, the Dean would come on the loudspeaker and make the morning announcements. He would notoriously sign off with, "Make it a great day." 

It was customary to mock and laugh at that closing statement, especially since the tone of his voice was always so stoic and robotic with little to no warmth. It also didn't help that he was a disciplinarian that was somewhat feared among the students. 

Hearing it every morning, five days per week, for four school years, I must have subconsciously absorbed it; it popped in to my head, seemingly out of nowhere the other day even after being out of high school for years now. Today, though, I look back at those five words in a completely different light. 

Make it a great day. 

Not, "Have a great day." or the more informal, "Have a good one." 

MAKE IT a great day. 

It was as if he was empowering us all to choose the fate of our own days, hoping we would opt for the good over the bad. Maybe he was. 

It would be nice if "bad days" didn't exist. It would be wonderful if every day we felt healthy, motivated, energetic, positive. If only everything was always rainbows, glitters and unicorns. 

But, it's not. 

And that's reality. 

The bad days do help us to appreciate the good days much more, in comparison. After all, "the sweet is never as sweet without the sour," to quote "Vanilla Sky."

Here's the beauty of the Dean's sign off message though...

To a certain extent, we all have the power to choose to make our day as great as it can be. 

Yes, there are limitations on what we can control in the level of greatness possible in our days. We can't control the weather, the jerks on the highway that should have their licenses revoked, the clerk with the attitude or the mosquito that chooses to bite you on the nose on the day of your blind date. 

But, what we can control is our perception. 

I've said it before: change your perception, change your experience. 

Look through rose colored glasses and the world seems much more beautiful. Positive energy is a powerful force and one that is far underutilized. If we see our glass half full, the empty portion isn't just a lack of filling- it's a space for opportunity. 

It would be wonderful if everything in life always lined up so perfectly as to never have a bad day to suffer through. Wouldn't it be just peachy if every day, "goodness" just fell on our laps? Don't you envy those that seem to never have an "off" day? Those that are surrounded in and radiate positive energy? Lucky them...

But, does luck really have anything to do with it?

We could all benefit from being the positive force we want to attract in to our lives. We could all do well to laugh more and take the little things less seriously. We could all feel so much better about the lemons we are handed in life if we just learned to breathe, smile, respond instead of react, and make more lemonade... or at least make it a great day. 

There Is No Rejection, Only Selection

Change your mindset, change your attitude, choose your experience. 

To be a hopelessly positive person, is to see that there is a silver lining no matter how dark the cloud. 

There must be.

Lost a job? = It wasn't your true calling.
Got dumped? = Bigger passion is waiting for you.
Offer wasn't accepted? = It wasn't meant to be.
Hurt yourself? = Learn from it and improve. 


Among the few emotions that are frightening to me in their pain potential, rejection is a biggie. To be rejected is to have my ego bruised, my intentions turned away and my life invalidated. 

Okay, maybe that last one is a bit of a stretch...

So let's spin this:

 "There is no rejection, only selection." 

Ah. How refreshingly painless!

Amazing how a simple reconfiguration shines light on a dark, frightening thought, revealing its positivity potential. 

In my last post, I mentioned that we are responsible for our lives and that our personal realms of control are larger than we give ourselves credit for. This applies here, as well. 

To feel "rejected" is to fork over power to the "reject-or," leaving us no choice but to become the "reject-ee." Knock it off.

Just as I have a right to choose, so too does the rest of humanity. Being turned down is the opposed's choice to go a different route. In that, I graciously accept the new opportunity that lies waiting for me that I may have missed otherwise. 

There are no mistakes in life. 

Sure, I've shed some tears or ground my teeth in frustration over what I've instinctively labeled as "rejection" in the past, but had those experiences not been, I wouldn't be where I am today. I can look back and find reason for all that has ever happened to me and thankfully appreciate them for happening in the first place. 

I willfully use my power to choose to claw out the positive message hidden in every NO, THANK YOU, each GOOD BYE and all of the NOT SO MUCHes. It's always in there, somewhere and if it isn't...

The Day I Went Postal on the Scale

The first installment in a series unraveling “my story…”  This process’ purpose is for reflection on past experiences in order to dig out the positive messages and lessons from the negative rubble…

Most 13 year old girls obsess about 13 year old boys, dreamy tweeny-bopper stars, the latest school bus gossip and what flavor Lip Smackers they bought at the store. As trivial as these fixations were, I would have given anything to have been stuck on the Justin Biebers of my day rather than what plagued me for years to come…

Wake up… get on the scale

Use the bathroom… get on the scale

Eat breakfast… get on the scale

Come home from school… get on the scale

Use the bathroom… get on the scale

Abstain from food and drink for hours… get on the scale…

An estimated 2.7% of girls between 13 and 18 years old suffer from eating disorders. -National Institude of Mental Health (NIMH)

From the age of 13, I became a statistic. How much I weighed and how little I ate were of utmost importance; I subconsciously grasped for a semblance of control somewhere… anywhere in my life.

My body image issues began early on and, although the core issues surpassed the superficiality of looks, I became obsessed with the number on the scale. I allowed a primitive piece of equipment rule my emotions and bar me from happiness, as the number never seemed to satisfy. If the number was too high, I failed; if it stayed the same, my efforts to bring the number down were useless; if it were lower than expected, it fed into the weight loss obsession- there was no winning situation. By day’s end, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to have stepped on and off of that device of personal torture upwards towards twenty times. I was no longer a person- I was an object.

Fast forward to today…

I look back at the days where a literal tenth of a pound reduced me to tears.  Bringing home an A+ on a paper or receiving first chair as a 7th grade flutist in the 8th grade band held no importance;no matter what I had managed to accomplish in my day, nothing could define me more than that plastic measuring device.

I cannot pinpoint the exact moment that it happened, but a switch flipped within me, shedding light on the hopelessness of my attempts to let a needle on a wheel of numbers define my “goodness.” Although I still fought a long path to recovery after this moment, I thank my lucky stars to have relinquished the obsession with the scale when I had.

I don’t remember the last time I stepped on a scale. When I go to to the doctors’ for a checkup, I insist on facing away from the display and request the number not be shared with me. I don’t remember what the last reading said, nor do I remember the exact moment when I decided “never again!” I do, however, remember the ceremonial moment in which I took a hammer to the cheap “Health-o-Meter” scale, channeling every last frustration it has ever given as I bludgeoned it to smithereens. 

Now, as a personal trainer and a holistic health coach, I preach against the use of numbers to show progress. I favor measurements in terms of energy levels, mood stability and the fit of clothing (not the actual size). Due to erratic changes in water weight, the heaviness of muscle trumping that of fat, hormonal levels in the body, etc, I don’t see such a volatile number as a fair way to determine body composition or, on a deeper level, self-worth, at all. Scales are for fish, not for humans.

Constantly a work in progress, I have morphed my sense of self far away from what my weight is. The people I affect, the changes I create, the smiles I cause are all much more indicative of self-worth than any number would ever be able to tell. The day I destroyed my scale was not the day my battle ended, but it was absolutely a landmark moment in my life in which I refused to be defined by such a worthless measurement. Even though the illness falsely made me believe I had everything in perfect order, going ape on the rectangular white scale with the bold black and red numberswas the moment I reclaimed some actual control over my out-of-control, food/image/perfection driven life.

Serenity

Every which way, there is a lesson to be learned if you’re ready to receive it. The other day I was in the supermarket, walking down the breakfast cereal isle. A mother was shopping with her son sitting in the cart and I happened to tune in mid-conversation.

“Mama, you ain’t the boss of me!”

I glanced over at the child, thinking to myself, “what a brat!” What this child said next was so profoundly deep, even in its simplicity, that it transformed him from a snotty little boy to a miniature Buddha- “You ain’t the boss of no one, only yourself!” Immediately, my scowl turned to awe as I looked at him, wondering if he knew the depth of the words he just spoke.

Regardless of if he meant it on a deeper level or not, the little boy’s words stuck with me for the rest of the day. He may have just been back-talking to his mother, refusing to do something she had asked him to or continuing to do something she asked him to stop, but the weight of those last words I heard him say stopped me in my tracks as if he were saying it for me to hear.

No matter what he meant by it, I interpreted his words as a simplistic version of the Serenity Prayer- a mantra I strive to live by.

“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference”

We can easily drive ourselves insane trying to conduct our worlds around us. We can get frustrated when things don’t go our way or when people don’t change to adapt to our likings. These frustrations will plague us forever, though, if we truly think we can control them- we can’t! The absolute only thing that we, as mortal beings, have control over is ourselves! Once we realize this ultimate truth and take responsibility for it, so much stress dissipates as the self-imposed weight of the world is lifted away.

It is empowering to know and claim control over yourself. Blame, anger, disappointment- all dissolve once the realization is made that the choice of how to react to something and how to handle it is claimed by you.

When I feel defeated and think that nothing will ever go my way, I reassess what is making me feel this way. More often than not, there is another angle from which to look at the situation in which I can reclaim control. I may not be powerful enough to control anyone else around me, but I sure do know that I harness the almighty power of controlling the things I do, the words I say and the way I react to my world around me.