Peace through Self-Acceptance

“Did your Water Bottle Explode?”

~ paxgirl ~ 5 Comments

…that question was asked of me on Friday morning as I mopped up the 3-foot radial area of where I’d just finished a Jazzercise workout.

“Nah, it’s just me,” I replied. I was dripping from head to toe and didn’t want anyone from the next class to slip and break a bone because of me. We laughed and I left the studio, feeling accomplished and strong.

Strong.

After being sorta sick for a few years and really sick for the last two, it hit me. I haven’t felt STRONG for eons. So here’s another tribute to the program that brought me here (along with my own steely and steadfast determination, and a return to lowcarb life):

Strong It has been 6 months or so since my friend Nancy invited me to join her at the fabulous “Mills/50” Jazzercise Studio in Orlando. I have powered through 63 classes so far. I haven’t had to stop to suck on that blasted asthma inhaler once.  I don’t care how tough this workout is; even when I’m switching from doing the regular choreography to a march-

(which I still do occasionally, just because combining performing the steps with the actual brainwork necessary to do so can stress me into a little chest constriction, ha)

(because I may be a musician but I am most assuredly not a dancer)

(and because splitting a beat when gasping for air isn’t pretty)

-I am moving. It is a triumph; those of you who knew me before these chronic conditions took up residence in this body know just how much it means.

So to Laura and Teri, thanks for the encouragement and advice. To the Katies, Kim, Christine, and Bernadette, whose classes I seem to land in most often, thanks for inspiring me to get through every class and for making it so much damn fun.

To the women I’ve met at the studio-Jane, Carrie, Gwen. Kate, Lisa, Shelley, Robin, Leslie, and those whose names I’ve yet to learn-I appreciate your example and your encouragement. Helen, I’m always so happy to see you because you bring such happy energy (I’ve never known anybody who could smile through a whole workout until now) to a class.

Penny, I already knew you but I’m glad to think of you as a workout buddy now!

Nancy, thanks for the simple invite and that first class that put me on the path back to me.

Still fighting, always "becoming"
Still fighting, always “becoming”

(Judi Sheppard Missett, wherever you may be, thanks to you for inventing this workout)

(Disclaimer: other than my regular workouts and eternal gratitude, I am not affiliated with Jazzercise, nor do I profit from expressing said gratitude)

Peace, friends -and continued becoming–

Jazz (ercise) Hands!

~ paxgirl ~ 6 Comments

fire escape
1926 Fire Escape

So. Asthma. Got that anvil dropped on my chest about 4 years ago. Out of nowhere. From running 5K races to not being able to power walk a block without having to stop to try to catch my breath, in a mild panic at the sound of-not wheezing, mind you- the gurgling in my lungs. My usual at-school workout 25-30 trips up and down the fire escape (pictured), doing curls/flys on every step with 5 pound weights? Became a one-up, one-down, do some stationary curls for a minute or two (hoping that people would just think  I was doing interval training and hoping that sweat was a good camouflage for tears of frustration) before repeating the whole thing a few times. The worst were the nights, when I’d be dreaming that I was drowning, only to wake up and find out that I was. I spent quite a few nights trying to sleep upright to combat that particular terror.

So. Diabetes. Got that jab to the pancreas about 6 months ago (July 30, 2015 to be exact). It was also deduced that I’d been hosting the blood sugar monster for several years without diagnosis or treatment. With medication and a very low carb way of eating, I’m learning to keep the blood sugar in check. Of course, the other necessary ingredient in treatment is exercise. Refer to above paragraph to see how that was going for me.

So I climbed the fire escape. Up and down, catching breath in between each trip, still trying hard to look like an ultra-cool interval athlete. Ha. Freakishly strong arm and leg muscles, but cardiovascular strengthening? Nope.

Suddenly, a salvation of sorts:

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“…and dance by the light of the moon.”

~ paxgirl ~ 4 Comments

 

 

You can do it.

“Be the buffalo. Wilma Mankiller, the first female principal chief of the Cherokee nation, once told me how the cow runs away from the storm while the buffalo charges directly toward it–and gets through it quicker. Whenever I’m confronted with a tough challenge, I do not prolong the torment. I become the buffalo.”

~Donna Brazile, rules to live by.

There are a number of people in my world right now who are going through some challenges: challenges in growth, change, health, emotional difficulties, and the like.  While I’m no poster child for living wisely, this subject in particular is one upon which I can speak, and maybe it can offer a little guidance or encourage  someone who’s on one precipice or another and is afraid.  In a nutshell, the fear you feel will not go away until you face it head on.

The quote above from political commentator/campaign strategist Donna Brazile is something I read in Oprah magazine. Its organic truth struck such a chord of authenticity within me that I tore the page out of the magazine. It’s been sitting here next to my computer for many weeks now, while I wondered how I was going to use it. Today it hit me; sharing the example of the buffalo might help some of my friends who are struggling. If you are reading this and know someone who needs to read this and share this post, maybe someone you know can turn a challenging situation into an opportunity to grow, to live honestly, and be finally free of the prison that running from challenge can become.

It took me a long time to become a ‘buffalo gal.’ Before I began to live authentically (which means allowing myself to feel the unpleasantness that discord often bestows), I was not myself. I was afraid of conflict, so I held in feelings that should have been shared. I was afraid I had nowhere to go, so I stayed in a place where I was not safe. I was a broken spirit and spent many a year locked in my room with a beautiful cat (see a previous post), my books, and my stash of Virginia Slims Menthol. I literally lost much of my teenage years to nicotine and self-imposed solitude. Came out of the fortress to go to school and work. I married a  man who helped me through some ‘interesting’ times while I was becoming me, supported me as I started counseling,  and also let me know that I wasn’t crazy to have the feelings I had. The marriage didn’t last, but my gratitude for his understanding at the beginning of my healing process endures to this day. As well as for the child who resulted from our marriage (see another previous post). I was well into adulthood by the time I first charged into the storm (even though I’ve always loved thunderstorms).

Here’s what, in continuing with the Oprah theme, I know for sure:

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Got fair?

~ paxgirl ~ 3 Comments

The joy of my life.

“Live so that when your children think of fairness and integrity, they think of you.”

H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Wow. I’ve had this quote saved on my desktop for a while now. I ponder it, put it down. Pick it back up, then drop it like a hot coal.  Does my kid think of me when he thinks of fairness and integrity? Do I really want to know what words/concepts/emotions make him think of me?  or what words/concepts/emotions are conjured when he thinks of me? Do ANY of us parents want that particular truth laid bare?

I know a lot of things about my parenting skills. I know that despite being an expert in the field of child development, no experience or education prepares me for how to react when I see pain in those blue eyes which so exactly mirror mine. Nothing prepared me for the joy I feel when someone tells me how great they think he is.  Nothing kept me from being easy on him when most likely I shouldn’t have. Nothing keeps my heart from melting when I see his room-brightening grin. I’ve made a ton of mistakes, and I’ve done a lot that seems to have worked.

And I have learned…….

……that he’s not going to grow up on my schedule, but on his. I can help or hinder this process, but cannot force it.

…..that while very occasionally I only did the best I felt like doing, most of the time I have done my absolute very best. Even when he hated my best.

…..that everyone finds their way eventually. And letting him find the way when it involves some angst or some consequences? Gotta do it. Gotta sit back and watch, and then cry behind a closed door if I must.

…..that there really is no greater love on earth than a mother has for her child.

What do I hope he thinks of when he thinks of me? I hope he knows:

…..that I will always love him exactly the way he is.

…..that he’s the whole enchilada with extra sour cream and guac.

…..that I will always love him no matter what.

…..that fairness and integrity are part of my parenting package.

…..that he is safe from emotional harm.

…..that even when I selfishly fall into the  “after all I’ve done for you!” speech, he knows that no sacrifice was too big, no battle regretted, no effort wasted; he’s worth it.

…..that I appreciate his wit and talent and brilliance; I know that he’ll be a world-changer—in HIS own way, not mine (though hopefully his progressive thinking will continue…..).

And yes, more than anything, I hope he thinks of fairness and integrity when he thinks of me.

That alone will fill my spirit with Peace.

Hopefully he will move out into the world carrying some of that Peace in his spirit as well.

Peace, friends.

I love you, Eric.

My clone and me

the only thing we have to fear…

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“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”

-Maria Robinson

Smash it to pieces.

(photo from bobsbarricades.com)

For me, it’s when I miss a couple of workouts, or eat a couple of really bad-for-me meals in a row.  The mind plays a dastardly trick: it tries to convince me that it’s time to give up, that it’s easier to spiral lazily in the vortex of “what’s the point of trying”  than to pick up and move on.  Funny isn’t it?  How effortlessly effort itself becomes the enemy.

Be it diet, exercise, studying, leading a life of strength and independence, or  just turning the doorknob of a classroom and entering, our psyches do an excellent job psyching us out. I don’t think it’s the fear of effort that paralyzes us. Fear of failure, of being physically attractive, of (ahem-) dancing in public, of  not having a significant other, of not being good enough, of conflict, of abandonment, even fear of success…..the real roadblock  is the is the fear of facing your fears!

And the ONLY way to smash through the roadbloaks and get peace?  Step on the gas and drive head-on into those fears.

You are the driver, and the fears are cowering behind one of Bob’s Barricades (ever wonder how rich “Bob” must be?).

It’s NOT the other way around.  You are behind the wheel. The drive may have some uncomfortable miles; so what? Fear–just a sensation.  Panic–just a sensation. The panic will stop in a minute. The loneliness will evolve into sweet solitude and personal strength.  If he’s (or she’s) “just not that into you,” okay; sad, but it’s clearly not meant to be. Nobody’s watching you dance anyway, so flail on.  Afraid of conflict? Speak your truth anyway, people are supposed to disagree and argue sometimes (just fight fair, which means listen to the other person and NO name calling). If you succeed at something, guess what? That means you ARE good enough!  If you almost succeed, congrats on your future growth potential. If you fail, face the fear of acknowledging it, enjoy the freedom that admitting failure gives you, and move on.

And if you require a little emotional Driver’s Education, put a counselor in the passenger seat and floor it. So it’s hard, scary, and very un-fun at moments. That’s okay too. It’s supposed to be uncomfortable sometimes, or you’re not really living your life.

Every minute you wallow in fear is a minute you won’t get back. True, but here’s some more good news: the next minute and every minute of the rest of your life, can and should belong to you. The beginning of your trip, even the middle, may have been bumpy and stormy, but you can turn your vehicle NOW to start the drive to your peaceful destination. It is absolutely, unequivocally, never too late.

So who am I to be giving all this self-help advice?

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Shake it up, baby

~ paxgirl ~ 3 Comments

“Courage is like — it’s a habitus, a habit, a virtue: you get it by courageous acts. It’s like you learn to swim by swimming. You learn courage by couraging.”

–Mary Daly

Disco Inferno?

(Photo:Wizard Wellbeing)

When I was in Junior High, I went to a dance with a few girlfriends. Now I had never been to a dance, and had never danced in front of people before.  Also, I was ridiculously shy. So in the gym with my friends, I started to dance. Or so I thought.

Apparently I looked like I was “stepping on hot coals”–or so said a kid to one of my friends, who in her helpfulness passed that tidbit along to me.  Suffice to say, that, to refer back to today’s quote, I did NOT learn to dance by dancing. That throw-away comment has been emblazoned upon my psyche for lo, these many years.  And I can honestly say that it takes fewer than all my fingers to count the times I’ve danced since then (the dances with kids in my Music Classroom don’t count, and the Theme Park shows don’t count either).

I’m a musician, a singer, a guitar player, for God’s sake! But every time I approach a dance floor, I can hear the long ago judgment in my head.  A comment that NO one remembered 2 minutes later but me. I won’t even dance in front of myself.  I am an absurdly self-conscious wuss–when it comes to this.  And being absurdly self-conscious?  Very much a life-wasting characteristic.  And wussy-ness? Definitely not Peaceful.

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The Unknown Wise Guy

~ paxgirl ~ 2 Comments

“Find peace with yourself by accepting not only what you are, but what you are never going to be.”
–Unknown Author

Okay, fellow perfectionists, that quote probably gave you a scary shudder; when I came across it, I had to use my left hand to pry my right index finger off the mouse (I was trying to delete the quote from my screen and from my short-term memory). Going back to a previous post where I proclaimed in all my wisdom (-damn it-) that finding real inner peace often requires a trip through some murk and mud, I decided that today I’m putting on the hip waders and plunging  in.

For me, here’s a little therapeutic self-indulgence. Maybe it will zap a nerve within you like the above quotation did for me. Or maybe it will just be a look into the mind of someone who’s spent a lifetime competing with herself in order to maintain a shred of self-esteem –who’s finally, finally, starting to get a clue. So let’s hit the esteemed Unknown’s wise words and start slogging through the murk:

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