Mommy

Ah, Mother’s Day- a day to honor and give thanks to the mom’s that birthed us, the women that raised us, the ladies that led the way. Thirsty after another incredible workout at the gym, I made a quick stop at the drugstore for a cold drink. I pushed through throngs of people scrambling to buy last minute bouquets of roses and Hallmark cards, frustrated that the cold beverage fridge was all the way in the back of the store. As lovely as it was to see so many people making some kind of effort to not show up to mom’s empty-handed, I couldn’t help but notice the obvious- that “Mother’s Day,” like many other holidays, is very much a hyped up Hallmark moneymaker.

Yes, it is nice to have a special day to highlight these undeniably amazing women in our lives. Truth be told, when I become a mom, I hope my kids smother me with extra love on the 2nd Sunday of every May. I do understand the purpose of the day itself; much like birthdays, it’s a way to give extra recognition and appreciation where it is aptly due. As I waited in the long checkout line among customers with arms filled with teddy bears and boxes of chocolates, I began to wonder how much the knickknacks and bow adorned gifts distracted from the true meaning of the day.

I spoke to a few mothers today, asking what they hoped their special day held for them. Not once did I hear them pray for lavish presents or exotic floral arrangements (although I’m certain they wouldn’t object to receiving them… I know I wouldn’t!). What I did hear, accompanied by twinkling eyes and broad smiles, was the excitement these mommies had overspending time with their families. Even the instances I heard about mothers covering the expense of dining out with their children, these women still beamed through their playful scoffs at the prospect of spending rare quality time with their loved ones.

The “stuff,” although fun and thoughtful, isn’t the important part of these holidays. What is more significant is what isn’t produced by Hallmark or sold on shelves- the feeling of being appreciated, the novelty of being celebrated and the reminder of how much they are loved are all what is most memorably heart warming. I guess you could equate this to the age old saying that “it’s the thought that counts.”

Hopefully this one day per year not only reminds us all of how thankful we ought to be for the mom’s in our lives, but also is not the only day we choose to express this amorous gratitude. In half an hour, when the holiday officially ends, my gloriously high-strung mother will still deserve the same amount of gratitude, love and recognition as she does right now. Sure, tomorrow she won’t come downstairs to a printed greeting card or hear “Happy Mother’s Day” from the family, but I intend to make sure that even though “her day” is over, her importance is still recognized. As the vibrant Mother’s Day bouquet wilt in the vase over the next few days, the love, respect and appreciation for my mom will continue to bloom brightly, long after the last petal withers and falls to the ground.

I love you, Mommy- today, tomorrow and always.

Letting Go

When I was younger, I was once grounded for brushing crayon shavings to the floor while coloring in a coloring book. My mother epitomizes the classic overly-stressed out workaholic. To this day, her stress level becomes so overwhelming that it spills over in to other areas in her life, causing her to “sweat the small stuff.”

Flash forward to present day- I was in the kitchen with my dog, giving her non-shedding coat a gentle brushing. To this, my mother scolded me as if I were tossing around fistfuls of hair from the furriest Himalayan, aiming for her dinner plate. I calmly continued to brush Biscuit, all her fur staying rooted to her. I looked up at my mother’s tightly pursed lips, her head shaking in disappointment. She asked why I deliberately stress her out, to which I honestly answered that it was not my intention to do so, whatsoever. As I picked at the tiniest bit of fur that had collected on the brush and placed it into the trash, I said, “Some things really aren’t worth stressing out over…” to which she stressed out over. 

Don’t get me wrong, my mother is a lovely woman that actually has a wonderful sense of humor, once she allows herself to use it. But, she has a high-pressured job and takes her role as matriarch of the household with utmost seriousness; relaxation has always been a rarity in her life. To put a positive spin on the situation, seeing my high-strung mother snap over the tiniest things that hold little true importance, reminds me that to stress about every little thing really does no good. Her tendency to snap over menial things has NEVER resulted in a positive outcome and always would have worked out better had she handled it with a lighter heart.

Stress is an inevitable part of life and learning to manage and handle it is an important skill. Just as I pick and choose my battles with other people so as to not be in a constant state of fight, I pick and choose inner battles, learning the art of how to let go of the things that don’t matter as much as they initially seem. To me, hearing news of a loved one in a horrific car accident merits stress… but, a few stray crayon shavings or brushing my dog as she lies comfortably in the kitchen floor? I’m pretty certain I can let those slide with a smile.

Bye Bye Happy Pills

Part of being human means to feel human emotions. Each, whether they be positive,  negative or neutral, is a gift to be appreciated, no matter how difficult some may be to feel. I am thankful to be able to experience a full range of emotions from extreme, violent rage and utterly depressive sadness to joyously delightful excitement and sheer happiness (preferably not all at once nor in immediate succession).

Today marks a big day for me- over the past two months, I have taken it upon myself to finally taper off an antidepressant I had been on since my early teenage years. Despite my mother’s pleads not to, I innately felt it was the right thing to do; ten years is long enough to have this chemical in my body.

I went about this pragmatically and cautiously. I gradually decreased the dosage a week or two at a time and paid very close attention to my body and mind. Initially, I felt waves of anxiety come and go and as a knee jerk reaction, I thought it must be an adverse reaction. I feared that my body had become so dependent on this chemical that my brain would never be able to functionally create its own serotonin balance.

“Breathe!” - I demanded to myself (something everyone could do more of). I realized I had been psyching myself out and creating a self-fulfilling prophecy by expecting the worst to happen. I noticed that I was so afraid of feeling anxious that I was, in turn, creating more anxiety within myself! I was cyclically damning myself and if I ever wanted to successfully be free of taking those daily pills, I would have to trust that my able body and mind would be just fine without them!

Long story short, today was the first day completely off of the antidepressant. Over the past few weeks, my smile never left me and my anxiety never crippled me. It may be the reverse-placebo effect of knowing the medicine is not in my body, but I feel like I am thinking clearer, feeling stronger and laughing harder.

I think back to when I was first adjusting to the highest dose of the “happy-pills” I was put on and hated the numbness it made me feel. I remember hating that I couldn’t cry if I wanted to, couldn’t act on my anger if it was necessary, couldn’t feel the whole range of happiness/sadness/frustration/rage.

Sure, the depression was gone and I am thankful that the medicine did its job, but the anti-emotional side effects were something I was not willing to accept for the rest of my life. I want tears to stream down my face when I watch a sad movie, I want to be so excited about a new opportunity that I leap in the air, I want to feel.

It’s often said that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. For ten years my emotions were suppressed in favor of a clinically stabilized state-today I reclaim my right to my ups, my downs, my smiles, my frowns, and everything in between.

**Disclaimer: I am NOT a physician and would highly recommend anyone who is thinking about discontinuing medications to consult with their physician/psychiatrist as there are adverse side effects that may occur if not done correctly**

Sorry for Passing Judgment

It’s happened to just about everyone before: You wave a car past you and the driver neglects to give the appreciative hand signal, you hold open a door for complete strangers as they obliviously walk past without so much as a head nod, you stop traffic for a group of teenagers can safely cross the road only to watch them take their sweet time shuffling past, still texting on their cellphones. These things happen to me, almost on a daily basis. I can choose to react in one of two ways: I can get angry and decide they are ungrateful *******s, or I can give them the benefit of the doubt, assuming they may be having an off-day.

All too often, as human beings, we pass judgment on others before we even get a chance to think twice. As many times as we’ve been told not to judge a book by its cover, it really is instinctual to assess someone based on their looks and/or mannerisms. Upon giving someone the once over, we create stories about them in out minds: where they’re from, how they act, their values, if we are “better” than them or not.

Thoughts, albeit as powerful as they may be, are harmless unless taken to the next step. I could go in to a passionate activist rant here, but this is not what this platform is intended to be.  I strive to pass as little judgment as possible on people because, let’s face it, there are times when I hope others don’t judge me based on how I look/dress/act on first sighting- do unto others as you’d want done unto you.

I’m certain there have been days when I’ve been so blinded by something that had angered/frustrated/saddened me that I had forgotten to wave at someone kind enough to let me merge on to the highway or that I had completely overlooked the stranger who took his time to hold the door open for me to pass through- this is not the person I am (I hope).

On a majority of occasions, I’m grateful, courteous and polite but, like any other person with emotions, I have my occasional bad days interspersed with the good that effect my actions/outward moods. From this realization, I am able to take a moment before I pass judgment on others and call on another set of human abilities: compassion and empathy.

At the end of it all, I am the only person that really suffers from passing judgment on these people that may never appear in my life again. I can be angry/annoyed/disgusted by someone’s behavior, or I can take a deep breath, smile, and assume that the “jerk” that just flew by without so much as a “thank you” had just stepped in a big ol’ pile of dog poop just after getting his fancy new shoes shined.

Linked by Exercise

The room was filled with buzzing energy. Sweat glistened off every body in the crowd. The music pumped through the speakers as hips shook, swiveled and shimmied. It was a diverse group- aged early 20s to mid 60s, tall, short, petite, heavier set.. all was accounted for and no matter who they were or how they looked, each and every person was smiling ear to ear, letting the music move them…. all on a Friday morning.

As everyone on Facebook knows, I was at Zumba instructor training all day yesterday. The eight hour long event embodied everything that I love about the fitness industry- a room filled with people all there with a common goal, a shared interest, a similar passion- to challenge personal limits and to spread the exciting energy of moving the body. Even though it was a studio filled with strangers, we all were connected through a special bond that needed no explanations nor introductions.

It truly is a testament to the nonjudgmental attitude a health/wellness professional attempts to maintain. The benefits and love for fitness never discriminates based on shape, size, race, nor gender. Every body, as long as it is human, is meant to move and when exercise ups the heart rate, those feel good chemicals stimulate the brain, bringing levity and happiness to chronically stressed and depressed lives.

Every day that I’ve worked on building my wellness business or challenged my body with exercise, I am reminded how thankful I am that I found my calling in fitness and health. It was always a fear of mine to have a job that I dreaded clocking in for and in this industry, I never once had to face that fear. Doing what I love makes “work” not feel like work at all. Through this passion, I’ve met some of the most wonderfully motivating and positive people and found a second home at my gym (that I’m certain everyone is tired of me raving about) that at times feels more familiar than my own house.

Uphill

The repetitive movement of running sets a perfect stage for meditative serenity. The steady tempo of foot-to-pavement strikes in cadence with the sound of air filling the lungs and circling out again. In this mental peace, thoughts come and go freely- an ideal environment to absorb any lessons being sent my way.

On a recent, particularly hilly run, the world presented me with teachings so pertinent to my disposition at the time that it was clear that life happens with purpose- it is not all random. About two miles through, I looked out in front of me to a stretch of road that seemed nearly vertical. I felt a flighty sense of panic as I momentarily considered the options of turning around or choosing a different path. I suddenly recognized this defeatist attitude as a reflection of habitually quitting when faced with seemingly large challenges. As the past has proven, failing to follow through when things get tough only presents me with pangs of regret and self-disappointment.What would my life be like had I not cowered when obstacles obscured my visions? How difficult would it really have been to tackle the proverbial mountains in my way?

If I chose to avoid that steep hill by turning around or choosing an alternative path, I would have compromised my deliberately planned route. I would have robbed myself of the inevitable sense of pride that would have come from following through with my original plan. The choice was obvious as I realized that, amongst distracting myself with reminiscing and lesson learning, I had been steadily making my way up the hill, anyways. With the simple motion of placing one foot in front of the other, focusing only on the next step immediately in front of me, the hill that seemed so intimidatingly impossible at first was disappearing behind me as I edged towards the top.

Before the next song even came on through my iPod, I had passed the peak of the hill, my hamstrings and calves enjoying the rewarding downhill slope that followed. How silly I felt to have even considered changing my path, all to avoid a (relatively small) uphill stretch of pavement. It was then I realized that the (only) way to take on, tackle and overcome any challenge is to take it one step at a time. Any hardship has the ability to be paralyzingly intimidating when looked at in its entirety; but breaking the daunting hill down and focusing only on what is manageable in the moment strips it of its debilitating powers, making anything seem 100% possible. 

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.