Be U: Nothing To Say

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.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Nothing To Say

I don't feel like I have anything to say. I'm not chomping at the bit to get out a 'share'. I have nothing pressing, exciting, genius or otherwise to say.

I type to see what comes alive.

.........

The weather sure has been cold, very warm, rainy, sunny, windy, damp, dry; pretty much all over the place. The fish in the pond are slowly swimming and I only see a few floating happily near the surface. Most are seemingly down deep and hanging out. My birds are happy enough with the music I play for them. I have one love bird 18 yrs. old and I'm keeping my eye on her because she looks frail and she is loosing feathers and her head even looks a bit distorted with her neck. She still whistles and chirps to me mimicking me everytime I go downstairs to see them all. I have four. Parakeets, Cockatiel and the Lovebird. I enjoy their song and just watching them. Cotton Candy, Sunshine, Sky and Chippers are their names.

I'm thinking I sit here pretty numb. My body feels a bit tired from holding it so tightly. Maybe it does something somewhat positive for the muscles and burning calories. (Am I strength training, ha) I do not think it's so good for my blood flow. If I had to guess I would think that this would be my way of thinking that I'm protecting myself. I'm bracing for a 'storm' to hit me and knock me down. I'm holding on to protect myself from pain and/or some agony. I'm not trusting the process of life and/or myself to be okay with what the outcome with my father will be. Am I like the 10 yr. old girl that was first abandoned. Perhaps, I can choose to give this part of myself up and know and live with what is now and not what I created way back when to protect myself. I created this habit of shutting down and holding myself tightly and hidden to shun myself from any discomfort; the (real) fear of my (not real) belief that I could have done something different to change the chaos that stormed my young life.

Oh. Deep.

As I read back the above paragraph; I 'hear' myself stating that the outcome of my father's life will change my life. Is this true? It did when I was 10 and 22 when he decided to disappear from my life not once, but twice. However, I'm a 52 year old woman now and he hasn't really been physically in my life in any significant way. What if the outcome of his life doesn't have to affect my life at all. I can still be there to my best capacity for him and I can, maybe most importantly, be here for me in my greatest capacity. Mmmm. I like this.

I could find myself shut down and tight for a long time or I can choose something different. I'm not sure what this quite is yet. If I had to push deeper, I could choose to say I'd like to be relaxed, open and able to trust the process of life. To, again, accept what is and live for this moment. This moment where I find myself safe, somewhat content, hopeful and somewhat alive. I can choose living. Living to me means being around and enjoying people, places, things; sharing laughter, love, and truth. Letting go and letting myself feel, thrive and even be a little 'crazy' with whatever is put in front of me and just believing that no matter what - I will be okay.

It's how I roll; it's what I do. Proof is in my past. Perhaps, I can live this proof now and take it into the future with me.

It is a choice, I BELIEVE.

So, since I didn't have anything to say....this is amazing to me....perhaps I could choose quiet over chatter at times and continue on through my sick, cool, and true self. (sick meaning awesome, of course)

It's great being me.

May you have a great day being you.

What if you choose to believe in your greatness only (just as you are) today? Would you be different? Would your world? Would our world? Mmmmm.

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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'!