Tag Archives: Understanding

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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Contemplation, Family, journaling, Life, lifecoaching, Me, meditaton, Native American Women, Writing

The Day I Started Taking Over the World

 

It was a long time ago, this story’s beginning.  A child was trying to be born.  Her mother, just a child herself, a little bitty sprite of woman.  Still three months shy of her 17th birthday, not 100 lbs., tiny, bound and determined to be someone’s mother.  Her small size was causing major havoc on her body this day.

The things that she should have known, she did not.  The things to do, what to expect when going through your first child birth, the danger signs, what to tell your doctor…all of this she was not aware of, not because she was incapable, but because she was alone.  Raised by her grandmother, mom left when she was very young.  Pregnant on purpose, because if she was pregnant, they had to let her get married.  A husband who was about 5 minutes older than she.  You might say, she was an angry young person to do all of the things her father and grandmother told her not to do, and you would be correct.  Nevertheless, here she was, in labor with her first child.

Now it was time.  While modern as hell, it was 1962, and the things they know now, were not the things they knew then.  They pumped a lot of drugs into that tiny body as she was ready to give birth.  Her labor was long and hard.  When the child finally emerged, she was blue, lifeless.  Fetal monitors not what they are these days, I can’t tell you whether the medical staff expected this or not.  But the young woman had now gone into seizure immediately after the birth and it took the concentrated effort of the entire medical team to save her life.  The stillborn child was placed on a cold table next to the gurney and forgotten as they worked to keep the little bitty woman alive.

Minutes pass, the mother-to-be will survive.  As the doctor and his nurses continue to stabilize her, for no reason anyone can name, that little blue baby begins to wail.  She announces her presence like it is no ones business.  Everyone turns in surprise, maybe even awe.  Not expected, not expected at all.

Flash forward, 56 years later…no matter how I have lived my life in the past, I think about how I began in this life.  No, I don’t remember it, this is the story that my mother told me, more than once.  No matter what kind of decisions I made in the past, I make them now with this story in my heart.  I still do this to people, still, for no reason anyone can name, announce my presence…and yes, sometimes with a wail.

What do you say to a person who started out like that?  What do you expect from someone who decided to live even when others thought she would not?  I asked this of myself, more than you think.  I continue to answer myself every day.

 

 

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

56 Bottles of…

I’ve been having a really hard time of things this week.  Winter does that to me from time to time.  I have claimed to be of the Bear clan.  Winter can be quite confusing.  My mind racing some days and other days, I just not sure who I am.  I eat too much, want to sleep to much.  The earth is supposed to be at rest right here in my neck of the woods, but some days, it isn’t.  Even this little bit of writing just looks like a jumble of words to me tonight.

I have had some clearer moments this week.  The cold does that to me, as well.  I see better when the cold kills the pollution in the air.  I watched some geese flying south.  I thought for a minute, how strange it was to see geese flying so late in the season.  Not that winter is half-way gone or anything…but if I were a goose, I think I would have high-tailed it to the beach long before mid-January.  The squirrels have been crazy-busy.  All those black walnuts I painstakingly raked out of my yard are now being dug up, from the middle of the yard, and spirited away to hidey-holes.  With all this activity I am not surprised at every new announcement of snow storms approaching.  Reminds me of that joke about the weatherman predicting a bad winter, because he saw the Indians cutting lots of fire wood…and the Indians cutting lots of fire wood, because the weather man predicted a bad winter….the announcements for the weather come way before either, said the geese and the squirrels.

The hills, now with bare trees looks like some old man’s balding head.  His hair sticking straight up and his scalp all white since the first snows fell.  I see houses out in the woods that I had not seen since last winter.  I wonder what those folks think when they see cars rolling up and down the highway, that they hadn’t seen since last winter.

I completed two video “how to” courses this month.  I have some webinars to attend…maybe that’s part of my problem, it feels like I have physically done something, but I haven’t.  I’ve only missed one day of work due to bad roads, but it feels like I haven’t been in a long time.  OK, so maybe it’s just the cold weather, bad roads and sitting in the house for several days.

And then there’s the 56…in a couple of weeks I won’t be 55 anymore.  I’m not sure what to do next.  I’ve never been here before.  It’s not time to retire, but I’m no spring chicken.  I love my job, I hate my job, there are so many things to do, and I don’t want to do anything.  It’s a strange mood.  I begin to understand how some of my ADHD friends feel all the time, minds jumping around from one thing to another.  They seem to handle it better than I have been.  This winter seems to be making me a bit crazy.  My upcoming birthday seems to have done the same.

Truth be told, I’ve been “a bit crazy” for a long time, I just don’t think I noticed it, or at least I haven’t admitted it to myself.  How many days until spring?  Perhaps by then my mind, my thoughts, my everything will have settled and I won’t be so…whatever this is.

 

 

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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, Family, Life, lifecoaching, Native American Women, Sundance

To Whom Much is Given…

I tend to measure my relationship with my Creator against my relationship with my children.  We say in our prayers “Heavenly Father” or “Grandfather” and that is how I look at my personal relationship.  When I come to a bump or have a query I think about how I respond to my children as a mother and I imagine that this is the way my Father responds to me.

I have a really hard time not yelling at people who mean well but who give others who are standing in pain what sounds like sage advice when they say to them “God is just testing you”.  Folks, I have never once tested my children.  I do not recall ever being tested by my own mother.  I did not have to prove that I loved my mom or dad.  I do not test my own children to see if they really love me.  I think…why would anyone say something so cruel to a child (of God) who is in pain or confused about a situation?

I have said many times “to whom much is given, much is expected”.  I said it again last night.  I stand watching a loved one bear what looks to others like a huge burden and this is the reminder that was whispered into my ear.  As I wrote those words out I knew that if he was not “given much” he would not have any real understanding of what I was saying to him.  But I also knew in my heart that these were the words he needed to hear.

All is not lost.  He is not being tested to see how strong he is.  If he were not given much to begin with, none of this would be happening near him.  He would not be expected to know what to do, he would not be able to continue to praise God for all of his blessings.  He would not already have the answer to his prayers.  The Tree would not be calling him into the circle.  The heartbeat of the people would not be calling him to sing again.

I started thinking, even last night before I went to bed, about the number of people I know who have been “given much”.  I was really amazed.  There are a bunch.  It turns out, at least in my life, that it is not rare for me to see amongst my family and friends many who have been “given much”.  There are some who have much love, much intelligence, much wisdom, much beauty, much charisma, much of so many abilities.  I smiled because I realized that it was no wonder that my own life ran so smoothly and evenly keeled, I mean, look at all these wonderful people I know who have been given so much and whether they know it or not; giving back what they have freely, as was given to them.

I was still thinking about this morning.  This past 30 days has been rough on my family.  But this is a family that was given much and we know that much is expected from us in return.  We get tired, we get weepy, we get sad but we are never without hope, truth or love.

No, my beautiful family, we are not being tested.  We are being given the opportunity to show the world where our strength comes from and Whose children we really are!

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