Be U: Itchy

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.

Monday, December 2, 2013

Itchy

I'm itchy this morning. Not in the way that I want to scratch, but in the way that I feel tension and nervousness.

My Little Bear is still not herself. It is hard for me to watch and not be able to change it for her. I will love her through with the vet's help.

I haven't been to the gym since she has gotten sick. I tell myself I don't want to leave her more than I have to. I know she is mostly okay just lying while I'm not here. I also have guilt of not being here if she needs me or were to get more sick.   I see a pattern here. One that is not in my best interest, most likely. The pattern is thinking that I know what another needs; when in reality, I, 100%, do not know for certain. And, in reality, I don't take care of my needs thinking this way. OR is this taking care of my needs as I get comfort in being here with her...   Oh, the complexity and depth of my/our human brain. It can be wonderful; it can be a challenge.

I have been doing push ups and some other floor work.   I have not done actual weights and I have not done cardio movement for 30 minutes or more at a time. I surely feel different.   I don't feel as 'alive' and I don't feel as strong and I don't feel as happy. I know this and, yet, here I stay instead of going to the gym. Egad

We are looking for houses. We are moving forward. The house up north is clearing out and no one has claimed it as theirs yet. I stand and move as best I can in the middle of the storm of transition.

May you enjoy where you are settled and not take it for granted. Enjoy it; bask in it. May you know gratefulness that you have comfort of knowing where you 'belong', if only for now.

If you are like me and uncertain because you are not deeply rooted in the comfort of what you are about just now; may you take in what is and allow love, gratitude, openness and awareness guide you.  We can still connect to happiness. I believe.

No comments:

Post a Comment

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'!