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Holding the plank – and wanting more

I held the plank last night.

In correct position, and with my arms shaking – I held on.

And when I got home, I started to get undressed when I noticed that the work I’ve put into my body these past weeks, is showing results.

I originally took a photo of my stomach for myself.  When I looked at the picture after I took it – I noticed my arm.  I was shocked.  And excited.  And I was sharing that!

I posted it to my Facebook wall, completely ecstatic that my goal of achieving tone was being realized.

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I have other goals.

Other desires.

And what I tried to convey in my last post – was that I am trying to allow myself to want those things.

I found myself feeling on the precipices of a breakthrough – of starting to feel like a woman – in my prime – of wanting more for her.

At the same time, feeling very much confined to my hamster wheel and with no resources for even a change of cedar chips.

I needed to talk it out with someone.

So I did what I am only now learning how to do, I spoke up and reached out.

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I had the most amazing conversation with one of my best friends.

I miss her.

This is the friend who wore a ball gown one casual Friday.

The friend who smeared cake on her own face just so she could turn around at the right moment and say “What cake?”

The friend I danced to P!nk with – and swooned over  Dave Matthews with while we sipped Kendall Jackson Chardonnay.

The friend who was there for me during a devastating chapter in my life.

I love her.

She fought cancer and won.  If that wasn’t enough to make her my hero, she’s bold and authentic, funny and smart, balanced, human and oh so loving.

She also happens to have the maiden name of my mother.  First, middle and last.  The odds of that are bonkers.

So I told her early this week, “I need to talk.  I need a friend.”

We had a time planned, but then another friend needed me.  The thing about true friends, is that there is no explaining, no awkwardness, just ‘can we talk another time?’

Yes we could.  This weekend.

So I called her with tonight with “Are you home yet? What about now? What about now?”

No.  She wasn’t home.  But now was a good time.

She then proceeded to blow my ever so ‘undeserving’ mind with:

“It doesn’t mean you’re not grateful.  It’s okay to acknowledge that you obviously have needs on many levels that are not being met.”

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The thing about getting older, is that the window of opportunity for any significant life change gets smaller.

The older we get, the more likely we may become ill – become lonely – become someone we didn’t plan to be – and there are only so many do overs.

That is reality.

But so many times, ‘reality’ becomes an excuse for not trying.

As she said “We have to candy coat reality a little bit at least.  To make life less bitter.  We have to be able to dream, to want things for ourselves.”

This is true.

I can think of a million reasons why I can’t take a big step and make the little girl I used to be proud and excited again.

But all it takes is believing anything is possible and allowing myself to want something for myself.  And that is NOT selfish.

I don’t know if I’m brave enough yet.

I don’t know if I believe enough in myself yet.

But I’m getting there.

If I can just hold on … even while I’m shaking.

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Musings from the Laundromat: Putting things to Write edition

Yes.  Intentional.

When I started this blog, I had hoped to have a place to process, purge, sort through such things as matters of the heart, my past and my unedited thoughts.

I started out telling only 2 or 3 trusted friends where to find it – then I went public online and after deciding I only have friends on Facebook that I trust and who know me, I then would share my links.

Mistake?  Maybe, maybe not.  But definitely I found myself editing.

I haven’t discussed Matters of the Heart – protecting the identity of people in my private life this past year.  I haven’t gone deep into my past – protecting the identities of those involved.  And I certainly have been editing my thoughts.  As if I would feel I owed everyone an apology for having them.

I just can’t do ‘phoney’.  I can’t.  It eats at my gut and sticks in the forefront of my brain gnawing away at me.

Relatives and acquaintances have told me in so many words, that I think too much.  I share too much.

It’s who I am.  Who I have always been.  Who I always will be.

I think those concerned with me sharing too much are the ones who have shared too much with me.

They needn’t worry.  If my story line crosses over to someone else’s, I don’t feel it’s my story to tell.

But when it comes to me and me alone, I have to be authentic.

A friend posted this today and I laughed.  So true.

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I do love my life.

But find myself editing my statuses too.

I’ve had this self-imposed expectation of myself for a few years, that I can’t be ‘human’.

Always wanting (needing) to do the right thing – making living amends to myself and others for years of wrong choices.

Trying to be some perfect unobtainable example for my son.

I can’t do it anymore.

Not because I am incapable, but because it is not authentic and it is not healthy, spiritually, to deny a facet of me exists.

I am blunt and very forthcoming by nature.  It is inherently who I am.  If I edit myself, I’m not honoring that part of me.  I’m telling myself in a round-about way, ‘that part of you is unacceptable’.

Unacceptable to whom?  I’m fine with it.  Why am I always worrying about what ‘they’ are going to think?

I seem to in constant battle with myself this past year or so.  The care-giver and sensible me shaking her head at every personal desire.  “That’s selfish”  “That’s wrong”  “That’s not putting others first”.

In a quest to be the best me I could possibly be, I left some of me behind.

I am not always happy.  I have high-highs and painful lows – I feel to the nth degree and I love that about me!

And – shocking news: I want things.  Not material things – but things that would serve to give me pleasure.

I want pleasure without guilt.

I want to be able to say “No.”  I want to be able to say “Yes.”  Purely based on how I feel about something and not how it effects the person posing the question.

But the battle wages on.

And it’s not a matter of ‘good’ vs ‘bad’ – it’s a matter of acknowledging that I deserve things sometimes too.

That being grateful for what I have and making good choices, doesn’t mean I should ignore the woman inside me who has needs that don’t sustain life.

And that they don’t make me bad.

They make me whole.

Morning Rain

It’s raining in the desert.

It sprinkled last night – and my son wrote this on his Facebook status:

“If tofu absorbs the flavor of what ever its cooked with, than Im going to cook it in the rain and if it tastes as half as good as it smells, Im going to dine on the gods food ;D”

 

It does smell amazing out there!  And I love the thunder …

I sat outside while it was gently sprinkling and sipped my coffee and had such a HUGE wave of gratitude wash over me.

I was pondering recent events and appreciating the scenery and for a sudden second, KNEW all of my needs were, and would be met.

I was aware in one moment of time of how beautiful life is, how blessed I am for my friends and family and that everything is going to be alright.

Little God whisper?  Maybe.  Seems like a great way to start the day to me!

Good morning world!