Contemplation, getting in shape, journaling, Life, lifecoaching, Me, Native American Women, running

Pride, Dignity, and Grace

You’ve heard the old adage, fake it til you make it?  Yeah, that how I live my life.  I’ve yet to have a job that I knew how to do until I was hired and trained.  Everything I did at those jobs, I learned as I went.  I totally faked it until I made it.

Is that a bad thing?  I think not.  What’s the secret to faking it while you take the time to make it?  Pride, dignity, and grace are my secret.  How I look.  Win, lose, or draw is often not as important as how I look as I go.  Faking it, making it look good until I can really do a thing, making it.  Easy peasy.

I was running the other day, I do that now….and I realized that my posture sucked.  My head was down, my arms were limp, my breathing was ragged, and my legs were barely moving.  Fake it, lift my head up.  Fake it, pull my shoulders back.  Fake it, breathe evenly, count three breaths in, three breaths out.  Fake it, see that line painted on the road and make my feet hit that line every time.  Fake it, stretch my stride just one more inch.

Pride, head up.  Dignity, shoulders back.  Grace, feet flowing across the ground.

Next thing I knew, I was half a mile down the road.  So it seems that I am still faking it until I make it.  What I have learned over the years that is that no matter what, I will look good while I am doin it…whatever “it” is.

As you drive past me, you will think “wow, I wish I could run like her”.  I will finish the race, eventually.  I will look good while I am running.  You will not know how hard I have to work to look like I am a natural, or to look like I run miles and miles every single day.  I will know how hard this is, I will know about those beginning steps, I will know just how fake it was until I made it.

I still have 1.5 miles to add to my run.  I still have 1 minute and 15 seconds to shave off my mile splits to reach my goal.  I will still use pride, dignity and grace to reach my goal.

5K—>I got you!

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getting in shape, journaling, Life, lifecoaching, Me, Native American Women, Writing

Jump rope

It’s been quite awhile since I sat down to write anything.  I have been missing the easy thought flow of just getting things off my chest.  I have missed many opportunities in the past few months because I was just so often, too tired.

I am tired still, but have determined to start writing again, even just a few words to let out some of the angst built up inside….out.

I have been reading…that’s a good thing.  Even if I haven’t written things down, I am still filling my head with all sorts of stuff, sci-fi fantasy, murder mystery, psychology…you know, just the basics.

Then I picked up a “program”.  I still struggle with getting older, fatter, slower.  I still dread going to see my doctor since after the age of 50 it seems that every time I go, there is something else wrong with me.  I cannot tell you how much that pisses me off….just when you really start to figure things out, your whole body starts falling apart.

What to do, what to do?  I started using essential oils.  My house now officially smells of way too much hippy, but I feel better.  I take some great supplements and my mind is sharper, my heart stronger, my immune system stronger.  These are good things.  Not a bad start.  I have been using the oils for a year now, the supplements for about six months.

Today I added more supplemental stuff.  I have to say “stuff” because I cannot find the proper place to put a really thick, very dark green chocolaty coconut flavored…drink?  It’s very weird.  Almost yucky but kind of yummy kind of drink.  I have been sipping on it for any hour now.  I just need to bite the bullet and get it all down so I can get to bed.  New things tend to take me a minute to process.

My biggest procrastination for the past two months has been exercise.  I have such good intentions….

I have even gone to far as to use some bullet journaling techniques to put a little calendar in my “my physical me” journal to track my chosen exercise program.  It’s been in there for two months and so far, I haven’t started filling it out.  April and May…blank.

Honestly, I was scared.  Sometimes my eyes are bigger than my stomach and my minds’ eye holds a picture of a thing that is no longer possible.  I was scared of what would really happen if I went ahead and started my program.  Being 55 is hard work.

Picture this: a 20 year old active duty Airman, holding on to 125lbs for over 5 years, feeling really good about everything, heading out to the gym and working out for an hour or so with no breaks and actually walking out like “this is how the world is supposed to work”.  Yes, that was me, 35 years ago.  My heroes were people like Muhammed Ali, Joe Frazier, Sugar Ray.  Boxing was as much an art to me as a sport.  I loved watching those guys’ workouts as much as I loved watching them in the ring.

I did not use the heavy bag or the speed bag…I wasn’t looking for muscle mass.  But I could jump some rope.  I used to jump for 20 minutes during each workout, Ali style, fast, fast, fast.  I would jump in front of the mirrors to make sure my style was perfect.  Did I mention that I weighed 125lbs?  I also hated looking like a rookie.

I have always said that the outcome was nothing to dwell on….but you gotta look good while your doing it…whatever “it” is.  So I jumped rope and I looked good doing it.

This is what my calendar is for…my goal, to jump 1000 times a day.  But, there is that “minds eye” thing….holy cow……

The book I am reading suggests jumping 7 minutes, twice a day.  This seems perfectly reasonable to me.  Still, it took another 3 days for me to put my shoes on and pull my rope off the peg it had been hanging on for a long, long time.

I am thinking that in reality, I might be able to jump a couple of hundred times without passing out.  I HOPE I can jump at least a couple of hundred times without passing out.  I asked my husband to come outside with me and to bring a watch.  He looks at me all funny and says “why?”.  I explain that I am going to start jumping again and I need him out there for support and to pick me up when I pass out.  I am being real with myself by now.

Seven minutes…I start thinking about all of those parables about time.  Is 5 minutes long?  no..hold this 50 pound weight straight out with one arm for 5 minutes.  Is 2 minutes long?  no….hold your breathe for 2 minutes…you know, those parables about time.  I am not stupid.  I know that I will not make it to 7 minutes on day one but I had to start.

OMG….I could not jump for 30 seconds in a row…by one minute, we were both laughing at my efforts, two minutes and I struggled to breath while trying to turn a rope that just would not work correctly.  Finally at 3 and a half minutes, my husband asked if I was done for the day.  YES!  I had to put on the sports rub after I finally caught my breath again.

I knew that I was out of shape but what never entered my mind was my body’s complete lack of cooperation.  How can a person forget how to jump with both feet at the same time?  My legs felt like lead.   I could not have alternated my feet if I wanted too, I tried, my legs just laughed at me too.

I jumped again this morning.  I still only jumped 3.5 minutes…..but I jumped.  I was counting, and several times jumped 25 times or more before messing up.  I jumped again this evening.  I jumped most of 4 minutes.  This time I really did almost pass out and only my Huskie was watching, she doesn’t even care and would have just let me lay on the patio until I regained consciousness.

Tomorrow morning will be my test.  I have to get up and leave for work earlier, my knees are feeling the stress.  Yes, I used more sport rub tonight.  I am supposed to drink the green sludge before I jump….wow.

First, I master the seven minute workout, then I get this drink down in less than and hour, and finally, I add just enough jumps to meet my goal of 1000 per day…like I said, 55 is hard work.

 

 

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Contemplation, journaling, Life, Me, Native American Women, Writing

Piano Fingers

I was perusing Facebook the other day and watched a video of four people playing the same piano.  They all took turns turning the pages and smiling, eight hands roaming up and down the keys as they pounded out the piece they were playing.  I liked the music and pictured the same piece being played on four different pianos by the same four people.  It would have sounded the same but would not have been as fun to watch.

What I noticed more than everything else I was watching was that they all did that thing piano players do, you know…rocking back and forth to the music as they changed tempo and raised and lowered sound of the keys from soft to loud and back to soft.  All piano players do it…as I have observed.  I am not a player so I can’t say that I do it but I notice things like that.

It started me thinking.  I could start imagining myself sitting at the keyboard of my laptop rocking back and forth as I pounded out my blog or a story or a chapter in a book.  I could imagine writing faster and slower, changing tempo as the thoughts rolled out of my head and to my hands; pounding now and lightly tapping then.  I wondered how that would look to the casual observer.  I wondered if getting so into my writing would cause me to do the same so I sat down and started writing.  My first words were tentative and as the thoughts began to flow my typing got faster and faster and mistakes were backspaced and corrected quickly then the thought would end and everything would slow until the next thought was born.  Two hundred words, three hundred words…five hundred words and so on until the piece was completed.

Funny thing is, I never once swayed forward or backward.  I didn’t lower my head and listen the tapping as I created each sentence.  The speed varied on the thought but that was about it.  My typing as always been a bit like listening to a DI walk across the room…rather loud as each heel strikes the ground as the DI pounds each step into the floor.  Yes, I walk the same way as I type…just a bit intense.  I have had to paint the letters back on the keyboard I use for my tablet twice now.  Still, no swaying to the words the same way that a pianist sways to the music that is being played.

I would stop every now and again to look back over my work. Piano players, I noticed, don’t do that.  When I didn’t like the way a sentence ended or didn’t like the way one thought flowed into the next I took the time to fix it.  Again, piano players don’t get that luxury.  Once the music is sounded it is out there and once a mistake is made the best you can do is try to cover it up with the next note or change the piece altogether and then let everyone think that you meant for it to sound that way.

These are just the things I was thinking today.  All I can say about that is piano players are not typist when they are playing and typist are not piano players when they are typing.  I think that even if I did play the piano I would not sway to they typing like I would sway to the music….

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Life, Me

My intent is…

Intent. What is my intent? What is your intent? As it turns out, these became very important questions last week. There were about four of us sitting around the outdoor living room I had set up in the wilderness. The boys were all over at the fire enjoying the things boys enjoy when they sit around a campfire laughing their heads off….

I don’t really remember how the conversation got started but somehow we ended up talking about intent. This is one of my favorite subjects. I find that living my life with intent is so much easier then just letting things happen any ol’ way they want. Whether I have a plan or decide to just wing it for the day my intent is what counts.

I put my intent into everything that I do. If I am supervising difficult employees it is my intent to create cooperation. If I am dealing with a behavioral client it is my intent to create peace. Those are simple enough, I am cooperative, I am peaceful, those ways of “being” bring my intent into reality. Somehow this makes my job so much easier. But that is only one aspect of my life. There are other areas that my intent helps me manage what is going on around me. My nephew and I were talking to my husband one evening and we were trying to explain how powerful intent is. How someone can hurt another purposefully if they are aware of their own intent and how they can hurt another if they are unaware of how powerful intent can be. Some people would call this “witchcraft” or “voodoo”, using intent for good or bad but we are all capable of changing the world, our own worlds, with the simple act of intent. You don’t have to study any other ideology or religion to become an expert in using intent.

So this is how our conversation went:

Let me pick up this pretty little stone…let me think about what a really handsome guy you are (even though you are not my guy), let me think about what a wonderfully good time you and I can have…let me think about all of this while I am holding this pretty little stone…now let me gift you with this little stone. Wonder how long it will be before you start thinking about me? Let me pick up this cool stick, let me draw hearts all over it and color those hearts with this red crayon, let me wrap a few strands of my hair around this cool stick and carve some simple little swirls to make it look cool…now let me gift this stick to you. Wonder how long before you start thinking of me? Matter of fact, wonder how long before every time you see a silly little swirls or red heart you automatically remember that silly stick and start thinking of me? Let me cook a meal for you…now let me get really angry at someone else while I am cooking and just continue to cook your lovely meal while I am angrily stirring the pot and making the dessert. Wonder how long it will be before you come down with a wicked case of indigestion?

The girls were amazed, they had never thought of intent in such a negative way. I then explained that intent can go both ways. All intent can be positive as well. You do not have to create a negative situation with intent. The important point of the whole conversation was to remind my friends that intent matters. It always matters. There is really no time that we are not intending something. We are children of God, does that not make us Creators as well? If God said “Let there be light” and there was light how am I any different? If I am his child am I not as capable? Oh true enough, I may not be as experienced with my intent as God is with his…as I have not created light just by speaking it into existence…but I am working on it, I am. I am working to use my intent to better my life and my world. I like peace, I like balance, I like joy…these are things that I intend to create…I’ve been practicing!

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