Be U: Poem but Not a Poet

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, July 23, 2018

Poem but Not a Poet

Be epic. Be chill. Be quiet. Be still. Be what you need most to be. So many 'acts' to be in and to play. Can be any one of these things any part of the day.

Meet life the way it enters into your space. Be the one that inhabits with grace.

The gift of life is yours to live. The gift of You is yours to give.

Know it. Feel it. Be it. Do it. All that needs to be known is what you intuit.

My poem is over. The rhyming is done.

Always remember to let loose and have fun.

May you delve deep into the natural way of You as often and as much as possible.

Ha.

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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'!