I awoke about 45min ago, and laid there. Maybe it was the pain. The soreness had begun to set in. I hurt from armpit to armpit. I smiled, and turned over. I couldn't go back to sleep though. I thought of the gym & running. I reflected upon the workout with Burkey the day before & conversations with a new friend. People who share in, what I perceive to be a very unique outlook on fitness, I don't even want to call it fitness. But what the hell else would I call it? So, here I am, 5:44am. I kept hearing myself ask the question, "What do I want?" & the answer was always, "More." It made me nervous. A typical addict statement. More. More is never enough. I relentless pursuit of that which will never satiate. I spent almost two hours at the gym yesterday. Training for an hour, then decided it wasn't enough so I hoped on the treadmill & ran. I came home and showered only to find myself wanting a "leisurely barefooted walk" about 3 hours later, which turned into a barefooted run. When I woke up this morning, all I thought about was bench pressing. Yesterday was the first time we did real bench pressing stuff and several times I wasn't sure if I was gonna get that bar up, and told Burkey through gritted teeth not to touch it. A "safety net" if you will, somehow has a way of making people not push themselves as hard as they could. Fuck that safety net, I didn't want him to touch my bar. I was going to get it up. Believe it or not, weight lifting is never an isolated muscle exercise, if it is your doing it wrong & cheating yourself. I did fail at getting that weight up at least 3 times. I wanted to push myself into & through failure. The thing that finally got that bar up had nothing to do with strength, but a change in my breathing. It made all the difference. Utilization of the energetic life force. A deep breathe along with a pause as I held the bar above my chest, holding the breath on the way down, and breathing out while pushing the weight away from my body. Where I had failed to get it up even a second time, I got it up three times. And I laughed. A joy. I loved it. As if I was pushing back against every emotion that had pushed on me for the last 10 years. It was payback. I fought back against whatever it was that had so often fueled those days & nights of self-destruction. Breathing & pushing that hard make you go places inside yourself you haven't been in years. I don't mind going there these days, in fact I welcome it. I've built a positive relationship with pain & suffering... in that way, in eradicates itself. If the relationship is positive, and I find joy within it; then where is the pain & suffering?
Love & Light
Dottie
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Growing Passion
"There are few things I enjoy more than training hard."
- My thought Monday after working out with Burkey. As if I had been denying that fact, ashamed of what people would think if they knew how much I really loved to put my body through rigorous physical training... dammit I can't find the quote but something along the line of a drive to push one's self which borders on psychosis. < I've been there. We laugh joking about how sick we are & how much we love it. There have been surreal moments this week. Surprised by what I could do and was doing. Secretly admiring the blood blisters on my hands, and bruises on my shins... that bar has no empathy. Smiling with every sore movement of my body for days afterward. My hidden pride, knowing what I can do in that that station, wanting only more. To push more, to lift more, to see what kind of internal dialogue pops up after holding a 15ft slosh pipe over your head for 3 min slowly loosing feeling in your arms becoming aware of the phantom sensation of water trickling down my forearms. What is said in my head, says a lot about me... and I want to know what that is. People watch, and you breathe. Because there comes a point when it takes all you have to simply do that, just breathe. Speaking of watching, that's what I'm doing. Watching a passion for training grow inside me like my passion for personal growth, which I guess they could go hand in hand. Inspired by those who train on a level many would consider "crazy"... yet I see it as honesty, willingness, & humility. I see it as part of an intricate matrix of who I am. Physical, mental, & spiritual. Allegory. A word I didn't even know the meaning to until a few days ago, unaware I didn't know the meaning until a comment was made standing outside Anytime Fitness holding my station 515 shirt. I wasn't gonna wear that shirt until I knew wtf allegory meant, lol. Powerful. Strong. Humble. Scared. Courageous. Willing. Proud. Honest.... just a a few of the things I feel when I drop that bar, scream out because it hurts, or express how much I FUCKING HATE whatever I'm about to do, but do it anyway. What am I passionate about? A question I ask myself from time to time. I'm passionate about personal growth on all levels. Allowing the physical, mental, & spiritual to dance within a beautiful balance of every feeling, emotion, & action or non-action. I'm passionate about being as tough as I am delicate, as feminine as I am masculine, & as healed as I was broken. Reminding myself of the importance of rest with drive. Inspired. Passionately inspired. I love this shit. I want more, like any good addict, I want more. But today, that which I pursue leads me down a path of self-discovery. "Know they self." I'm no longer afraid of who I am. When you have consciously & willingly exposed yourself to pain your threshold increases. What is there to fear, if you've already experienced more pain that what is coming? Whether it by choice or chance? Once you've been there, your less afraid to go back. So go first willingly. Allegory.
Love & Light
Dottie
- My thought Monday after working out with Burkey. As if I had been denying that fact, ashamed of what people would think if they knew how much I really loved to put my body through rigorous physical training... dammit I can't find the quote but something along the line of a drive to push one's self which borders on psychosis. < I've been there. We laugh joking about how sick we are & how much we love it. There have been surreal moments this week. Surprised by what I could do and was doing. Secretly admiring the blood blisters on my hands, and bruises on my shins... that bar has no empathy. Smiling with every sore movement of my body for days afterward. My hidden pride, knowing what I can do in that that station, wanting only more. To push more, to lift more, to see what kind of internal dialogue pops up after holding a 15ft slosh pipe over your head for 3 min slowly loosing feeling in your arms becoming aware of the phantom sensation of water trickling down my forearms. What is said in my head, says a lot about me... and I want to know what that is. People watch, and you breathe. Because there comes a point when it takes all you have to simply do that, just breathe. Speaking of watching, that's what I'm doing. Watching a passion for training grow inside me like my passion for personal growth, which I guess they could go hand in hand. Inspired by those who train on a level many would consider "crazy"... yet I see it as honesty, willingness, & humility. I see it as part of an intricate matrix of who I am. Physical, mental, & spiritual. Allegory. A word I didn't even know the meaning to until a few days ago, unaware I didn't know the meaning until a comment was made standing outside Anytime Fitness holding my station 515 shirt. I wasn't gonna wear that shirt until I knew wtf allegory meant, lol. Powerful. Strong. Humble. Scared. Courageous. Willing. Proud. Honest.... just a a few of the things I feel when I drop that bar, scream out because it hurts, or express how much I FUCKING HATE whatever I'm about to do, but do it anyway. What am I passionate about? A question I ask myself from time to time. I'm passionate about personal growth on all levels. Allowing the physical, mental, & spiritual to dance within a beautiful balance of every feeling, emotion, & action or non-action. I'm passionate about being as tough as I am delicate, as feminine as I am masculine, & as healed as I was broken. Reminding myself of the importance of rest with drive. Inspired. Passionately inspired. I love this shit. I want more, like any good addict, I want more. But today, that which I pursue leads me down a path of self-discovery. "Know they self." I'm no longer afraid of who I am. When you have consciously & willingly exposed yourself to pain your threshold increases. What is there to fear, if you've already experienced more pain that what is coming? Whether it by choice or chance? Once you've been there, your less afraid to go back. So go first willingly. Allegory.
Love & Light
Dottie
Friday, June 24, 2011
My Body, Artfully Crafted
"Just think about that beach body"
What a joke, I thought. I laughed & shook my head. There was a picture of a beach with a fake sun just above those words. I thought of how terrible it must be to hate every minute of self-improvement. To wish to be ANYWHERE but right there, earning the body you have. Because that's the truth, we have earned whatever body we have. Our bodies are simply a physical manifestation of thoughts, experience, feelings, effort, work, etc. "Be with your body" - I heard that too in yoga yesterday. Be with my body. This beautiful piece of art that I've watched morph over the past 2 years due to an unwavering faith, a willingness to do whatever it takes, going to places within myself I was terrified to go. My body is a canvas of which you can see where I've been & who I am at any given moment, because my body will always carry remnants of 319 lbs, and that's okay. That's my story. There will forever be self-induced scars on my thighs & calves, a portal for my pain when I knew no other outlet, and that's okay. Along with small tell-tell signs of anxiety induced picking at my face and upper arms, because that was the safest thing I could do at that moment. My shoddy nail beds and slightly aged skin are fragments of years spent desperately trying to get others to perceive me as pretty with acrylic nails and year round tanning, because I allowed what others thought of me to carry entirely to much weight, and if they thought I was pretty, and told me enough, maybe I would believe it too. Hmm, interesting isn't it? I spent the first 22 years of my life reaching for an outward solution to my inward problems. Today, I am building myself anew from the inside out both figuratively & literally. I address the real issues, the inner issues, whatever they may be and watch as the outside changes as a result of this.. I watch my leg muscles naturally chisel themselves out, my collar bones dominate my upper chest, and know that although I can't see them yet... there HAS to be a six pack under what's left of my slowly fading armor of fat I've carried for years. My hair cannot get short enough, and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE that I can dead life 295lbs, which is more than my body weight. Yoga keeps me feminine & flexible. I run physically now so I don't have to run emotionally. I may not ever have the "beach body" so many of us think about when we see signs like the one I saw in the gym today, but I'm going to have MY body. I'm going to know good, bad, or indifferent, I earned that body, and I'm gonna wear it proudly.
Did I do this alone any of it, the destruction and rebuilding of who I am? Absolutely not. We cannot function alone. We are not here to be alone, to face life alone. I am so grateful for the people who have been part of this process. It's not about that beach body, I couldn't give a fuck about that beach body. It's about the process of getting to where you are, right now. It's bout knowing yourself, loving yourself, forgiving yourself. It's about knowing it's okay to be mad at yourself sometimes, and really, no, you don't know who you are. No one knows who they are. I am whatever kind of person you perceive me to be, to you that is. I wouldn't be able to convince you otherwise. My perceptions of me, are no no less bias than yours. Because guess what, even we don't know everything about ourselves, we hide things from ourselves. So who are you? You don't know. I know who I perceive me to be. What do you THINK about yourself should be a more appropriate question. Because that's what really matters, what you think of yourself effects every moment of your life. Every decision, every relationship, failure, success, EVERYTHING. So what do you think about yourself? It matters. Whether this person or that person agrees or not, doesn't matter. Whether it's "true" or not doesn't matter. What do you think of yourself? I asked myself that question today. And if there is something about yourself that you don't like, or is hindering your goals & aspirations, then change it, but you can't fix what you don't know is broken. I've spent years trying to answer the question who am I? And couldn't come up with an answer. I was asking the wrong question. How do I see myself? Is what I was suppose to be asking myself. And replying honestly, no matter how much I may not have wanted to admit it. At the very least, admit it to yourself. There will be some things I may not like about myself, but how do I perceive me? It's imperative that I know this. Along with the truth that this perception will change, I will change, & other's perception will change. Everything changes, and thank God for that.
It's amazing how when we are there it doesn't seem "that bad" but yet as we recover from self-destruction it becomes so much more clear how much we really hated ourselves. This is my recovery.
Love & Light
Dottie
What a joke, I thought. I laughed & shook my head. There was a picture of a beach with a fake sun just above those words. I thought of how terrible it must be to hate every minute of self-improvement. To wish to be ANYWHERE but right there, earning the body you have. Because that's the truth, we have earned whatever body we have. Our bodies are simply a physical manifestation of thoughts, experience, feelings, effort, work, etc. "Be with your body" - I heard that too in yoga yesterday. Be with my body. This beautiful piece of art that I've watched morph over the past 2 years due to an unwavering faith, a willingness to do whatever it takes, going to places within myself I was terrified to go. My body is a canvas of which you can see where I've been & who I am at any given moment, because my body will always carry remnants of 319 lbs, and that's okay. That's my story. There will forever be self-induced scars on my thighs & calves, a portal for my pain when I knew no other outlet, and that's okay. Along with small tell-tell signs of anxiety induced picking at my face and upper arms, because that was the safest thing I could do at that moment. My shoddy nail beds and slightly aged skin are fragments of years spent desperately trying to get others to perceive me as pretty with acrylic nails and year round tanning, because I allowed what others thought of me to carry entirely to much weight, and if they thought I was pretty, and told me enough, maybe I would believe it too. Hmm, interesting isn't it? I spent the first 22 years of my life reaching for an outward solution to my inward problems. Today, I am building myself anew from the inside out both figuratively & literally. I address the real issues, the inner issues, whatever they may be and watch as the outside changes as a result of this.. I watch my leg muscles naturally chisel themselves out, my collar bones dominate my upper chest, and know that although I can't see them yet... there HAS to be a six pack under what's left of my slowly fading armor of fat I've carried for years. My hair cannot get short enough, and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE that I can dead life 295lbs, which is more than my body weight. Yoga keeps me feminine & flexible. I run physically now so I don't have to run emotionally. I may not ever have the "beach body" so many of us think about when we see signs like the one I saw in the gym today, but I'm going to have MY body. I'm going to know good, bad, or indifferent, I earned that body, and I'm gonna wear it proudly.
Did I do this alone any of it, the destruction and rebuilding of who I am? Absolutely not. We cannot function alone. We are not here to be alone, to face life alone. I am so grateful for the people who have been part of this process. It's not about that beach body, I couldn't give a fuck about that beach body. It's about the process of getting to where you are, right now. It's bout knowing yourself, loving yourself, forgiving yourself. It's about knowing it's okay to be mad at yourself sometimes, and really, no, you don't know who you are. No one knows who they are. I am whatever kind of person you perceive me to be, to you that is. I wouldn't be able to convince you otherwise. My perceptions of me, are no no less bias than yours. Because guess what, even we don't know everything about ourselves, we hide things from ourselves. So who are you? You don't know. I know who I perceive me to be. What do you THINK about yourself should be a more appropriate question. Because that's what really matters, what you think of yourself effects every moment of your life. Every decision, every relationship, failure, success, EVERYTHING. So what do you think about yourself? It matters. Whether this person or that person agrees or not, doesn't matter. Whether it's "true" or not doesn't matter. What do you think of yourself? I asked myself that question today. And if there is something about yourself that you don't like, or is hindering your goals & aspirations, then change it, but you can't fix what you don't know is broken. I've spent years trying to answer the question who am I? And couldn't come up with an answer. I was asking the wrong question. How do I see myself? Is what I was suppose to be asking myself. And replying honestly, no matter how much I may not have wanted to admit it. At the very least, admit it to yourself. There will be some things I may not like about myself, but how do I perceive me? It's imperative that I know this. Along with the truth that this perception will change, I will change, & other's perception will change. Everything changes, and thank God for that.
It's amazing how when we are there it doesn't seem "that bad" but yet as we recover from self-destruction it becomes so much more clear how much we really hated ourselves. This is my recovery.
Love & Light
Dottie
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Allowing Others, Yet Denying Myself
"I allow others to be who they are, yet deny myself the same freedom."
That was the thought I had this morning. Then I reflected up on it. Recently I've realized I'm always on guard just a little, there's always a wall there about halfway. I'm always afraid of what people are going to cause to rise up within my psyche. Afraid of what they will do to my serenity, my emotional or spiritual energies. I'm all about protecting myself because I don't know what demons you've got lurking in and around you, and I sure the hell don't need them, I have enough of my own. I'm afraid of people making me angry, afraid of people draining me, needing me too much (because I'm afraid of letting them down. So if I don't allow people to "need" me then, I can't let them down." In meditation this morning I thought of how many times I've said, "I'm afraid of myself." The amount of fear that I have hidden for 25 years is astounding. I'm like really? I'm riddled with fear. If I cannot be comfortable with myself and God, it's nearly impossible to be comfortable with anyone else. If I'm terrified that *I* am going to hurt me, then why would I think anyone else won't? I can't/don't even trust myself. It's no wonder I trust no one else. The safest I do feel is with myself, yet I still don't feel safe. I'm afraid of the feelings I may feel when no one else is around, and although it has been quite some time since I have physically hurt myself, the fear that obsession or compulsion may return is there. A Course in Weight Loss says being alone with our addiction or compulsion is like being alone with a mad man. It's true. The remedy is to reach out, to be with people. Which is also true. I've seen it be true in my recovery from alcoholism. I've blogged before that I think the reason I like to blog is because it's a false sense of intimacy. If I blog publicly, I'm not entirely hiding, but God forbid I tell you this in person. I told mys sponsor the other day something along the lines of I don't feel deserving of the good people do for me. She said that was bullshit. She was right, I knew it, but I needed to know if what was bullshit... then what was the truth. It's not that I don't feel deserving. It's that I don't want to feel obligated. If you do for me, then I feel like I have to do for you, well I don't like doing ANYTHING I feel like I have to do. I like to do what Dottie likes to do. I had a friend get me something really sweet for my birthday last year. I got her nothing. I feel guilt EVERY. SINGLE. TIME I think about the fact she got me something, and I got her nothing. I look at my Uncle and think, nothing I ever do in my life can repay him for what he's given and done for me. I can't give him back the 30,000 + miles I've probably put on his Envoy. I can't give him back the 5,000 dollars I owe him right now. I can't give back to him the time and energy he has spent helping me get on my feet. How do I repay him when my debt is having a roof over my head for no other reason that he loves me and wants me to do well? I can't pay that back. Shit, apparently I can't even accept it. So, maybe under the I don't want to receive because I don't want to feel obligated to repay, is I just don't know how to receive. I don't know how to just allow good in. I want to give it away as quickly as I get it. Because I'm a very blessed woman, and I want to give to others, but first I need to give to myself. Or is it the other way around? :) All I know is that I got up at 5:30 this morning, I've meditated and my coffee turned out great. I also know that know matter what is going on in my head, God ha something bigger going on in my heart.
"I'm receiving all good now." - The card I drew this morning. Quite fitting.
Dear God, may I find safety, security, and Love within myself and You. May I receive all good graciously and know I am deserving. My I give good graciously as I am guided by You. Thank you for my willingness and clarity to know myself better. Thank you for the miracles happening at this very moment. Amen
Love & Light
Dottie
That was the thought I had this morning. Then I reflected up on it. Recently I've realized I'm always on guard just a little, there's always a wall there about halfway. I'm always afraid of what people are going to cause to rise up within my psyche. Afraid of what they will do to my serenity, my emotional or spiritual energies. I'm all about protecting myself because I don't know what demons you've got lurking in and around you, and I sure the hell don't need them, I have enough of my own. I'm afraid of people making me angry, afraid of people draining me, needing me too much (because I'm afraid of letting them down. So if I don't allow people to "need" me then, I can't let them down." In meditation this morning I thought of how many times I've said, "I'm afraid of myself." The amount of fear that I have hidden for 25 years is astounding. I'm like really? I'm riddled with fear. If I cannot be comfortable with myself and God, it's nearly impossible to be comfortable with anyone else. If I'm terrified that *I* am going to hurt me, then why would I think anyone else won't? I can't/don't even trust myself. It's no wonder I trust no one else. The safest I do feel is with myself, yet I still don't feel safe. I'm afraid of the feelings I may feel when no one else is around, and although it has been quite some time since I have physically hurt myself, the fear that obsession or compulsion may return is there. A Course in Weight Loss says being alone with our addiction or compulsion is like being alone with a mad man. It's true. The remedy is to reach out, to be with people. Which is also true. I've seen it be true in my recovery from alcoholism. I've blogged before that I think the reason I like to blog is because it's a false sense of intimacy. If I blog publicly, I'm not entirely hiding, but God forbid I tell you this in person. I told mys sponsor the other day something along the lines of I don't feel deserving of the good people do for me. She said that was bullshit. She was right, I knew it, but I needed to know if what was bullshit... then what was the truth. It's not that I don't feel deserving. It's that I don't want to feel obligated. If you do for me, then I feel like I have to do for you, well I don't like doing ANYTHING I feel like I have to do. I like to do what Dottie likes to do. I had a friend get me something really sweet for my birthday last year. I got her nothing. I feel guilt EVERY. SINGLE. TIME I think about the fact she got me something, and I got her nothing. I look at my Uncle and think, nothing I ever do in my life can repay him for what he's given and done for me. I can't give him back the 30,000 + miles I've probably put on his Envoy. I can't give him back the 5,000 dollars I owe him right now. I can't give back to him the time and energy he has spent helping me get on my feet. How do I repay him when my debt is having a roof over my head for no other reason that he loves me and wants me to do well? I can't pay that back. Shit, apparently I can't even accept it. So, maybe under the I don't want to receive because I don't want to feel obligated to repay, is I just don't know how to receive. I don't know how to just allow good in. I want to give it away as quickly as I get it. Because I'm a very blessed woman, and I want to give to others, but first I need to give to myself. Or is it the other way around? :) All I know is that I got up at 5:30 this morning, I've meditated and my coffee turned out great. I also know that know matter what is going on in my head, God ha something bigger going on in my heart.
"I'm receiving all good now." - The card I drew this morning. Quite fitting.
Dear God, may I find safety, security, and Love within myself and You. May I receive all good graciously and know I am deserving. My I give good graciously as I am guided by You. Thank you for my willingness and clarity to know myself better. Thank you for the miracles happening at this very moment. Amen
Love & Light
Dottie
Friday, April 1, 2011
A Mirror of Self: She's Fat
The site of her instantaneously makes me curl up my nose and just stare at her. I usually start at her ankles, noticing how tiny her feet look against her humongous legs. She big. Very big. And it's apparent I have issues with her, because she's big. Of course the question is what am I seeing in her that is being reflected back, but that is not the point of this blog. The point is to be entirely honest with myself about how I feel about her, let it go and allow Love and compassion to flow freely. I watch her walk with her cane and think, you have to know the reason you walk with a cane is because you are extremely overweight right? I see a wasted life. I see someone dying before there time. I see an unnecessary struggle to live and function a daily basis. I see the possibility of who I could be without constant self-reflection and fearless facing of my demons. I don't respect her. How could I? I can't stand to be in the same room with her. And when she sits at my nurses station I just want to kick the back of her chair and tell her to move her fat ass. I wonder what she looks like naked, and if her husband even remotely finds her attractive? How could he? Was she always this big? What does he look like? Maybe he's a big fat fucking blob too, then I guess it wouldn't matter, she doesn't see it in herself, he doesn't see it in himself.... a beautiful blinded Love. Bastards. She's married? WTF. What about me? I just wanna rip her wedding ring off her finger, IF I could get it off. AND it's huge! More karats than I've seen most woman wear. I admit, she's intelligent, and willing to help you with any question. However, shes' got a bit of a smart mouth, and I just look at her like really? REALLY. You want to be smart? Just shut the fuck up, I don't respect you anyhow. I wondered today how difficult it really is for her to take her shoes off. Where she shops. How much extra energy she wastes every single day on the most common and mundane activities. Can she whip her ass? Is it possible? When's the last time she had sex with her husband. What about when she's on her period? I mean, c'mon!!! She has body tissue literally falling all over the place, it's not pretty, it's not convenient, how much denial is this woman in? These already semi-gross aspects of life are multiplied in her case. My nose is curled right now, disgusted. I'm just absolutely disgusted. I don't like her talking to me. I'd just assume pretend she's not there. I don't want to look at her, talk to her, nothing. I just want to look at her and be like so what's it like to weigh 500 lbs? I've watched you. You can't bend over to pick anything up. You're dependant on people around you. You can't fit in 9/10's of the chairs at our facility, it takes you 10 minutes to get in your car.... I've watched you. I've watched you in utter fear, terrified. Having said a thousand times in my life, "If I ever get that big, please, I beg you... please just shoot me" and I mean it.
The tears are sitting in my eyes already and I haven't even wrote anything. A chill just ran down my body, and my mind is thinking of anything to get me away from this computer. All of a sudden, I'm tired. My body and mind is shutting down, shutting it out. < This is what resistance looks like ladies and gentlemen. The moment I noticed myself staring at her ankles, I prayed. I asked God to free me from the thoughts of judgement I was having against her. I just realized I didn't pray for clarity. I asked to feel only Love and compassion for this woman who was obviously dying inside. I wondered why she hurt so much. I wondered what she really felt inside. I remembered moments of always being the first one to jump up to help her, only to cuss her under my breath. Recognizing I struggle with my own feelings towards her. Going out of my way every chance I get to enable this way of life. I become angry at her for handicapping herself. I recognize that in denying her freedom, I'm denying it to myself. If I look at her and become angry because she represents aspects, or potential aspects of my personality.... there is unforgiveness, there is a lack of love towards myself. And if I can't love myself completely and unconditionally, I am hindered in my spiritual growth. I'm ready to be whole, balanced. I'm on a mission. A mission to live the life God wants me to live and frankly, I'm tired of fucking around. So let's look at it... all of it; the good, the bad, the ugly. Somewhere in the back of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous it says the best way to get rid of a resentment is to pray for that person, ask God to grant them all the things you'd want for yourself. What does she want? I don't know. But I'm going to pray that she.... I don't even know where to start. Maybe I'm not there yet, but I'm willing; willing to be there whenever I'm ready to be there. I immediately went back to praying for myself, asking God to help me to release anger, help me to see clearly what I need to see, help me feel only love and compassion for her. But why would I want those things? None of that is helping her in anyway. Judgement. I'm full of judgement. A fearless and moral inventory. Yeah, that's where I'm at. There and here...
I recognize some aspect of her weight is reflecting an aspect of me and mine on a subconscious level, this reflection creates a panic inside of me, a fear. "Where ever the mind is not filled with Love, there is a propensity for insanity." All my hateful words and thoughts are really aimed at me. If she's a mirror, everything I say or do, is aimed right back at me. I wish to be free from this judgement and fear. I want to feel only Love when I look at her, when I look at me.
Dear God, please heal this part of me that is irritated when I look at her. I'm willing to release this anger in exchange for Love and peace. What is this teaching me? How can I help bring about the highest level of healing for both of us, for all of us? Amen.
Love & Light
Dottie
The tears are sitting in my eyes already and I haven't even wrote anything. A chill just ran down my body, and my mind is thinking of anything to get me away from this computer. All of a sudden, I'm tired. My body and mind is shutting down, shutting it out. < This is what resistance looks like ladies and gentlemen. The moment I noticed myself staring at her ankles, I prayed. I asked God to free me from the thoughts of judgement I was having against her. I just realized I didn't pray for clarity. I asked to feel only Love and compassion for this woman who was obviously dying inside. I wondered why she hurt so much. I wondered what she really felt inside. I remembered moments of always being the first one to jump up to help her, only to cuss her under my breath. Recognizing I struggle with my own feelings towards her. Going out of my way every chance I get to enable this way of life. I become angry at her for handicapping herself. I recognize that in denying her freedom, I'm denying it to myself. If I look at her and become angry because she represents aspects, or potential aspects of my personality.... there is unforgiveness, there is a lack of love towards myself. And if I can't love myself completely and unconditionally, I am hindered in my spiritual growth. I'm ready to be whole, balanced. I'm on a mission. A mission to live the life God wants me to live and frankly, I'm tired of fucking around. So let's look at it... all of it; the good, the bad, the ugly. Somewhere in the back of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous it says the best way to get rid of a resentment is to pray for that person, ask God to grant them all the things you'd want for yourself. What does she want? I don't know. But I'm going to pray that she.... I don't even know where to start. Maybe I'm not there yet, but I'm willing; willing to be there whenever I'm ready to be there. I immediately went back to praying for myself, asking God to help me to release anger, help me to see clearly what I need to see, help me feel only love and compassion for her. But why would I want those things? None of that is helping her in anyway. Judgement. I'm full of judgement. A fearless and moral inventory. Yeah, that's where I'm at. There and here...
I recognize some aspect of her weight is reflecting an aspect of me and mine on a subconscious level, this reflection creates a panic inside of me, a fear. "Where ever the mind is not filled with Love, there is a propensity for insanity." All my hateful words and thoughts are really aimed at me. If she's a mirror, everything I say or do, is aimed right back at me. I wish to be free from this judgement and fear. I want to feel only Love when I look at her, when I look at me.
Dear God, please heal this part of me that is irritated when I look at her. I'm willing to release this anger in exchange for Love and peace. What is this teaching me? How can I help bring about the highest level of healing for both of us, for all of us? Amen.
Love & Light
Dottie
Monday, March 28, 2011
Nice Job Addict
Wow. The desire to smoke hit me as I was about to sit down. It's been so long since I've felt that desire I almost forgot what it was like.
So, here I am. The urge to write is strong, but the subject matter seems to be elusive. I feel a larger sense of what I write here being "better" than it used to be. Why? Because discovering I have two new followers that I don't even know caught me off gaurd and allowed my ego to get stroked for a moment. I've allowed myself to enjoy doing nothing for a few hours today, a very short few hours, I begin to get restless. Sitting here breads anger, like I'm not writing what I'm suppose to write. Something needs to be said and I'm not saying it. So why don't we start with what I'm looking at right now... literally & figuratively:
There is an empty plate with only smears of what's left of my chocolate cherry cake sitting under my computer monitor. Everytime I look at it I think, FUCK. There's a whole bunch of calories for nothing, only to let me crash later. Nice job addict. Along with the brownie, Totino's pizza, and ritz crackers and cheese.. wtf. I'm terrified of getting on the scale. I've done nothing but eat everything I could get my hands on for about a week. Except last night. A ray of hope shined. I left work after a 15 hour shift taking care of patients on a floor where over 60percent of them either had the flu or exhibited flu-like symptoms. I was wanting to baby myself becaue I had been up since 6:30 (and i'm NOT a morning person) dealt with a ton of sneezing, coughing, comfused patients, new staff, whiney staff, my coworker calling in and the day shift nurse staying over and leaving early and blah blah blah..... oh and I had one patient die before the day was through. Alright, enough of me whining. The end of the day I felt good, acoomplished, the ache in my feet brought nothing but gratitude the day was done. Somewhere along the drive home I thought McDonald's meal would be the perfect way to nurture mysef, then I realized that it wasn't the mcdonalds I wanted, but just to nurture myself, and I could do that with a shower once I got home, and so that's how it was. Thank God.
So, here I am. The urge to write is strong, but the subject matter seems to be elusive. I feel a larger sense of what I write here being "better" than it used to be. Why? Because discovering I have two new followers that I don't even know caught me off gaurd and allowed my ego to get stroked for a moment. I've allowed myself to enjoy doing nothing for a few hours today, a very short few hours, I begin to get restless. Sitting here breads anger, like I'm not writing what I'm suppose to write. Something needs to be said and I'm not saying it. So why don't we start with what I'm looking at right now... literally & figuratively:
There is an empty plate with only smears of what's left of my chocolate cherry cake sitting under my computer monitor. Everytime I look at it I think, FUCK. There's a whole bunch of calories for nothing, only to let me crash later. Nice job addict. Along with the brownie, Totino's pizza, and ritz crackers and cheese.. wtf. I'm terrified of getting on the scale. I've done nothing but eat everything I could get my hands on for about a week. Except last night. A ray of hope shined. I left work after a 15 hour shift taking care of patients on a floor where over 60percent of them either had the flu or exhibited flu-like symptoms. I was wanting to baby myself becaue I had been up since 6:30 (and i'm NOT a morning person) dealt with a ton of sneezing, coughing, comfused patients, new staff, whiney staff, my coworker calling in and the day shift nurse staying over and leaving early and blah blah blah..... oh and I had one patient die before the day was through. Alright, enough of me whining. The end of the day I felt good, acoomplished, the ache in my feet brought nothing but gratitude the day was done. Somewhere along the drive home I thought McDonald's meal would be the perfect way to nurture mysef, then I realized that it wasn't the mcdonalds I wanted, but just to nurture myself, and I could do that with a shower once I got home, and so that's how it was. Thank God.
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