The story of my life. As told by me.
Ha! Ya, well I’m sick and fucking tired of telling the story of my life. It makes me sick to my stomach when I think about all the times I’ve spewed the bullshit from the years of conditioning. I’m tired of hearing myself talk about it! I’m tired of using it as an excuse. I’m tired of identifying myself through my story. I need and want to come up with a new story. I want to write a new story that is my life! The one I’ve been carrying around all these years, in no way serves my highest good and greatest joy. It’s been a way to garner attention. A way for others to make me feel better about myself because I keep spewing the same shit! As of today I am no longer going to speak of my story. It served a purpose. Now it’s crap. It’s time to let it go.
I often watch the show Chopped with my husband. Though I hate cooking, I do enjoy watching others cook. Over time I found myself getting increasingly frustrated with the stories from the competing chefs. I began to notice myself questioning why these people continued to identify with and continued to live their life through their story of struggle. I would yell at the television something like … “Let your frigin’ story go!” It then dawned on me that the producers of the show needed each chef to have a story so that viewers like me, sitting on their sofa at home watching, could then identify with the chef’s story because we each have a fucking story to tell!! It wasn’t until today during my mediation, that I came to an awareness of the story I’ve been telling. One of struggle with weight and body image. Show of hands now! How many of you reading this can identify with and relate to a story of struggle with weight and body image????
Today is the first day of spring, 2017. This is my season. If asked, I would say summer is my favorite season but spring …. Well spring brings rebirth and growth. I was born in the spring and when I look back over my life, I realize I’ve used this season of spring to start anew, different aspects of my personal growth. Hell, a year ago I made the decision to leave my job of 25 years. That’s a huge anew! I guess what I’m saying here is that I don’t need New Years to write out some stupid resolutions that will never be met. And I often cringe when I hear someone talk about a goal and say something like …. “Oh, I’ll start on Monday” or “I’ll stop after this happens”. What the fuck?? Why are you waiting? There’s nothing like the present moment, right? Start now! Stop now! Yes, easier said than done and I too am guilty of this to a degree. The difference is, I tell myself often that change needs to happen. I don’t set a date, but I avoid. I’ve been avoiding. Fear is the cause of my avoidance. My soul, my inner voice, my higher self, has been whispering, nagging and nudging and I can no longer afford to ignore it. I know deep down that the time draws near, this time of rebirth and growth. The time to leave my fucking story behind and to start writing a new one. As the trees begin to bloom and growth occurs, I choose to begin to allow the newest version of myself to blossom and grow. A version of myself who will no longer spew out the same bullshit she’s been spewing for years. But how?
Awareness if the word that comes to mind. Awareness of each time I reflect back on past events, choices and decisions. Awareness of my fears.
Awareness of every fucking time I start to tell my old story. “This is what has happened my whole life! Please feel sorry for me!!”
Awareness of my strengths and the belief that what I look like physically is in no way a reflection of my value and worth. In no way is it a reflection of what I have to offer my loved ones, friends, clients, groups and the world as a whole. This particular awareness is truth, settling in nicely and feeling real good. Yet I’m not happy with certain aspects of myself. I’m not content with the physical me I currently present with. Learning to love myself has been an ongoing process and I often speak of acceptance. Well, I do love myself. I am learning acceptance. Yet with acceptance can come passivity. I want to choose acceptance and action toward physical improvement. Hahahahahaha … exactly what I’ve been avoiding!!! So what’s the fear?
Vulnerability. I hate feeling vulnerable. The choices I’ve been making help me to feel safe. But safe from what? Maybe from the work I need to do to get myself where I want to be. Safe from starvation? Geeze, where the hell did that come from? What are my fears? Well, I don’t enjoy cooking or spending time in the kitchen unless I’m helping David cook or I’m cleaning up after him as he cooks. The thought of having to be responsible again for healthy food prep and cooking makes my stomach turn. I don’t want to take the time to do what needs to be done. The fear of emerging victorious. Not in a physical sense, but a professional development sense. I have work to do. And I’ve been avoiding it. Why? Because deep down I don’t believe I’m good enough. At some level I don’t belief I can make a difference. Ah, look at that! Spewing my old story again!
It’s time. It’s time to work through these limiting beliefs. It’s time to leave them behind. It’s time to start adopting and embracing a new set of beliefs. Ones that support and uplift. Ones that propel me forward to create and live the best possible version of myself.
It’s time. It’s time to start writing a new story of the rest of my life. It’s time to start telling a new story. It’s time to start believing in myself again. It’s time to adopt a healthier lifestyle. It’s time to start making better decisions.
It’s time to stop identifying with and relating to the old worn of version of the story of my life. It’s time to stop telling this story. It’s time to stop avoiding.
This writing is raw and jagged. It’s a journal entry in Word to be shared as a blog entry and in a newsletter. I put my fingers to the keys and began to type whatever popped into my head. I did not go back through, reread or correct. Instead I chose to be vulnerable and express freely what has been swirling around in my thoughts. I am grateful to Spirit, to Archangel Michael who watches over me as I write, to friends who say the right thing for me to hear at the right time, and for the space I give myself to be me.
Now ask yourself the following questions.
What story am I telling?
How is my story serving me?
How is my story holding me back?
Is it time to start writing a new story?