Be U: Truth Isn't Created, It is Lived

Coming for the Real You.

I'm hoping to share thoughts, fun and insightful information and aha moments with all to better serve ourselves and the universe.

My background is that of Executive Secretary for the local Electric company (11 years).

Certified Personal Trainer (since 1991) and Fitness Consultant for my own company, Beachin Bodies (6 years) and certified in Reiki and Nutrition with training in Cranial Sacral work, Tai Chi, and Meditation. Certified as a Professional Life Coach (2015); Minister at Universal Life Church (2016);

and, possibly, most important,

my own journey through illness and avenues, roads and roadblocks that I have taken to find the real me. (35 plus years).

The me that I was born as. The me that is the all-knowing. I believe the search is endless and we are here to learn and to love and to share it all.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Truth Isn't Created, It is Lived

This is from a book called "Lit from Within" by Victoria Moran. I find it a brilliant story to know as we move forward living our truth.

"I was five years old when I told my first lie. I came home from kindergarten and Dede, the woman who looked after me, asked what my class had done that day. The same old 'coloring, songs, and snack' sounded so mundane. Then I remembered that the fourth and fifth graders got to go once a week to a stable for riding lessons, and I blurted out, "We rode horses." I instantly felt that I'd just been expelled from Eden with Adam and Eve. With those three words, I left innocence behind me and I knew it. Sitting at the kitchen table with two sandwich cookies and a glass of milk, I had the strange sense that my childhood had just ended. Subsequent lies didn't have nearly the effect of that first one, and I grew into depending and self-deluding rationalizations to make me feel more important, get me out of what I didn't want to do, or save face. In retrospect, they never saved anything, but they did become so natural that when a spiritual director told me, "dont' lie, period, ever, for any reason," I was amazed by his fervor on the subject. "GOD IS TRUTH" he told me "and the only way you can get to God is through the truth. If you don't want to do that, stop wasting my time." "

"His truthfulness formula was (1) to clear up any damage done by past untruths as best I could; (2) to commit to speaking the truth and admit it immediately when I missed the mark, which he assured me I would; and (3) to accept the truth - about myself, my past my present, and my circumstances. I tried, failing every bit as often as he'd said I would. But after a while, my life felt cleaner, lighter. It wasn't quite like returning to the golden time before the horse-back riding tale, but I knew that if I stayed firm in my resolve, it would bring me as close to that as I could get. Truthfulness is pretty simple; it's not fictionalizing reality. It's also being open to a higher degree of truth that what may be visible in the moment."

"Truthfulness should never be used as an excuse to hurt another person; it also does not require telling anyone anything that is none of their business. What honesty does ask is that we speak truthfully when we choose to speak; that we temper our words with all the kindness we can muster; and that we look at reality straight on, accept what we've got, and build from."

Thank you Victoria Moran. I say "HAPPY BUILDING"!

Are you building your life on the truth of who you are?

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My Past Story

The first thing I would always tell a new doctor was 'my dad left me when I was 10'. He just disappeared, ran away. It was pretty awful for me. I thought it was my fault as most kids sometimes do. I thought I was unlovable. Years later, 20 maybe, I realized it wasn't just that my dad left me that affected my life, but also that my mom stayed. She stayed and I'll be forever grateful. However, her staying wasn't all peaches and creme. She was so hurt, so distraught, so frightened to raise three kids on her own and find a job that it was very hard for her to be there for me and my needs. I chose to shutdown, be quiet and try not to make it any harder on her as to not ask for much, or voice much, or need much.

Years later, in 11/12th grade, I noticed my fingers being really cold and hurting all the time. I noticed them turning purple and the pain was very 'loud'. Humorously enough, I had chosen to be a secretary and typing was a big part of my everyday. I loved it even. Fingers flying across the keyboard with as little mistakes as possible was the goal. I was pretty good at it. While in typing class, I remember putting my hands on my neck to try to warm them and make them feel better. I was naive enough then to think this must be happening to everyone.

Anyway, years went by and nobody was able to tell me why this was happening or what to do to make it better. Then, approximately 4 years later, I remember (what I felt) was little me sitting across from a really big doctor at his really big desk and him telling me I was allergic to myself. Of course, this was him describing to me what auto-immune meant. I had a disease called scleroderma and it could kill me (sometimes in as little as five years) and I would most likely be on medicine and have it for the rest of my life and there was nothing to change it.

Anyway, almost 30 years later, I've had my share of pain and I'm alive. I've had ulcerations on my fingers and I have lost most of my nails on both hands from lack of circulation and producing too much collagen. My hands are somewhat not a pretty sight and to hit something with one of my fingers by accident (well, I refer to the feeling as 'going to the moon).

When I was about 30, I started looking at alternative medicine and I tried anything that came across my path to try to stop the pain. I have tried many normal and not so normal 'ideas'. I sometimes do not believe at what lengths I went to try to ease my pain and suffering!

This is what has brought me here to this point in my life.

I'm grateful to be able to learn so much about myself and life and I wouldn't take it back (well, some days I might want to).

Something was telling me to blog. I really didn't know much about blogging - I am still a novice at best. Approximately 5 weeks ago, I sat at my computer and started typing.

I am surprised at where my blogs have led me. I thought I was trying to help others and that still is a big goal of mine. However, what I am finding out is that this is a great outlet for me.

A way to feel like I'm doing something. I told a friend this morning about my blog and I said that it's draining because I put everything out there and do not hold back as I post each individual blog; its fun because it does give me an outlet and I feel a little purpose in my life; and it's scary because I don't want anyone laughing at me or telling me that I am completely 'off my rocker'!