Stuck in a Rut

This is one of those times when I have a million things happening in my head.  So I’m just going to see what spills out.  I think it’s interesting to think about how I perceive myself vs. how others see me.  I often see myself as stuck in a rut.  And really, it’s dumb because I know I want to do something different, but I don’t. I tell myself there are many reasons, but in truth, those are just excuses.  I know if I really put my mind to it, I could make change.  So why don’t I?

Well, if I’m going to do something new, I better figure it out first.  I better have all the answers, I better not make a mistake.  Wait, what?  Oh yeah, that’s the perfectionist in me.  The perfectionist knows I’m not perfect, but doesn’t want anyone else to see it, it thinks it’s protecting me.  The perfectionist tells me there are a lot of things to be afraid of.  Tells me I better weight all the risks first.  The perfectionist procrastinates, all to avoid blame, shame, all the feelings that come from making mistakes (thanks to Brene Brown for the spotlight on all that, ugh, why did it have to make that much sense to me!?!?)  I tell you though, the perfectionist is no friend of mine.  I should name it and then every time it shows up, I can tell it to get lost.

This weekend, I’m at a coaching course, learning how to help others realize their potential, work through what holds them back.  The thing about a class like this is you have to/get to deal with your own crap for practice…yay. Three days of working through my stuff. As I go through it, I’m noticing the feelings that come up.  One interesting one is that I feel wound up inside.  Full of anxiety, a nervous stomach, feeling like my heart is racing.  Yesterday, I thought maybe I drank too much coffee, it’s possible.  But it happened again today and so instead of chalking it up to my Starbucks habit, I paid attention to.  Every time we had to do a “practice” exercise, it came up again. What started to click for me is that as I was forced to work through some stuff for the sake of “practice” I had to push past that perfectionism, push past the rut.  It was new.

 

I think that’s one of the things that’s hard about getting out of the rut. It’s new, it’s unknown.  I might not like the rut I’m in, but I know it.  It’s oddly comfortable. But in the rut, I don’t grow.  And if I don’t grow, I die, maybe not visibly, but on the inside.  I know I have to make change and to do that, I have to be able to live in the tension, live in the discomfort that comes from making different choices. I’m learning that no matter what happens, it’ll be ok.  It’s ok even if I make mistakes.  I won’t fall apart.  This weekend has shown me I can move into a space not knowing what’s next.  What I do know is that I’m going to stop moving through well worn rut, and step outside it.  And in that space, I’ll find the fulfillment I want because my choices and path will be driven by my purpose.  So hold on, it’s going to be  bumpy ride.

And oh, Ellen’s doppelganger was at my training…ok maybe not really, but she said I wasn’t the first one to say it.  Kristin was a lovely woman!

Play Through

I think this is a continuation of my DNF stream of thought, it keeps bugging me, wanting to bFollow your callinge told.  I’ve realized there’s a distinction between continuing what I’ve started and playing through when I feel I’m called to pursue something in my life.  It could be any number of things, it’s that calling, that tug on my heart to see what happens.  But man, sometimes I really don’t want to.

It starts innocently enough. That thought that enters my mind, “hey, hello there,” it says, or it’s a memory that comes to mind and I notice it.  I think that’s the beginning, I notice it.  Maybe I dismiss it, but it comes back. Crap.  Then it continues to pop up, and morphs, starting to develop a life of it’s own.  And I want to ignore it.  It might scare me, that’s a good reason to ignore it, I figure.  But it doesn’t work that way.

The calling, the prompting on my heart, it could be any number of things.  It could be going out on a limb and getting training so I can work towards coaching other women.  It could be that urge to call someone I haven’t talked it in a while.  Or it could be something tough that I really want to ignore. Like…asking for forgiveness from someone who has hurt me.  I assure you wanting to ignore that last calling is strong, very strong. I mean, seriously, wouldn’t it be for you too?

This is where playing through comes in.  Sometimes with that thing that prompts on your heart the initial step is only that.  The first step.  And I don’t know what the next step will be.  But playing through means I have to be willing to take it.  Have to be willing to be exposed, to possibly face pain, or to face disappointment. The flip side though is that it could lead to something good, something healing, even though that healing might not be for me, it could be for another person.  I think that’s the thing with playing through, I have to follow, be obedient to it, and it may be for me, or it might be for someone else.  That part doesn’t really matter. It’s the step of faith, in faith…and then I have to let go and wait. I can’t push it. The calling, the prompting, it’ll come back…it’s how God works.  It might say, “ok, good job, you’re done,” or it might say nothing and just fade out, or it could also show me the next step. Either way, I’m going to play through.

 

Surrounded by Mirrors

I spent last mirrorsweekend with my family, which is always a great time.  We are the go, go, go family.  One of the nights after dinner, we sat around the table playing Catchphrase.  If you haven’t played it, do, it’s a ton of fun.  It’s basically charades but using words.  My 8 year old nephew was playing with us and it was his turn.  His clue was “that thing you do when you parents want you to do something you don’t want to do.”  Do it anyways? Obey? Finally someone said, “Suck it up.”  Amazingly, that was it!  So interesting to see an 8 year old perspective of what it’s like when you’re faced with something unpleasant.

I find that I tend to suck it up when “life happens” and is tough.  It’s hard but hey, that’s life.  I don’t tend to be very compassionate to myself.  I’ve written about that before, and even took a great online Brene Brown class about it. I think I have a whole lot more homework to do, because I’m still not getting it very well.

But the other day, I had coffee with a friend who is going through a very tough time.  One not so dissimilar to something I recently went through.  As I sat and listened, my heart broke for her. She shared the struggle she’s gone through and the pain she’s felt.  I was also struck by something else.  It was the similarity in much of what she’d been through and what I’ve been through in the last year.  While not identical, it was marked with a lot of the same pain and sadness.  For her, I felt nothing but sadness and empathy.

Later that night I was thinking about the conversation and praying for her.  It occurred to me that while I felt an enormous amount of compassion towards her, I didn’t feel that some compassion when it came to my own situation.  Instead, I’d made myself suck it up.  Determined not to be a victim of my circumstances, I kept moving forward.  Now, I looked back on that conversation and realized that it had a secondary outcome which is that it was a mirror for me to look at how I’d been treating myself.  It finally sunk in for me that sucking it up wasn’t doing me any favors.  Instead, I needed to give myself a break.

I find it so interesting that we really are surrounded by mirrors.  People who, if we’re paying attention, reflect lessons we can learn about ourselves and our own lives.  Who give us a glimpse into our own experiences and reflect back to us exactly what we need to learn.  These people are rare treasures. I, for one, am thankful for the mirrors in my life, especially this time.  Without even realizing it, she helped me see where I was not giving myself the compassion I needed.  So while it scores points in our game, sucking it up does not score me any points and I’m going to keep trying to not play that card.

 

No DNF’s

DLFShirtThough I suspect most of you who read my blog are athletes, as many of my friends are, I want to share a term used in racing/events. “DNF.” Stands for “Did not finish.” I’ve done a lot of races, rides and events.  Some I thought would kill me they were so hard, particularly some of the ridiculous climbing events on my bike.  It was called the Terrible Two for a reason.  Anyways…in all the races I’ve done, I’ve never had a DNF.

Not having a DNF is not because of any extraordinary skill I possess, I guarantee you.  It’s my frame of mind when it comes to the sports I engage in.  I have never considered quitting an option.  That’s not to say it hasn’t entered my mind, but I never considered it.  Not something I want to do.  I start, I finish… even if it’s ugly.

So the other day I was talking about a new adventure I’m starting…during therapy.  I am particularly excited about it because if I can do the training, I’ll be able to coach people about health and wellness.  Different than being a “coach” but more a life coach with a focus.  I’m excited because for a couple of years I’ve been thinking about how I can help women overcome their own doubts or fears about pursuing what they love, whatever that is, but particularly through sports.  Recently, I reached out to a long-time friend of mine who gave me some great suggestions on how to get going with that and where to go for training/certification.  Things with that are falling into place and I’m praying that trend will continue.

I told my counselor that sometimes I end up thinking about stuff too much, over-analyzing, risk assessing, to the point where I talk myself out of it and that I didn’t want to do that with the idea of being a life coach. He told me that whatever I start, I need to finish.  Not the first time he’s said that to me.  But that was the day I needed to hear it again.  That was the day it stuck.  As I was driving home I thought about that statement and realized that when I’m doing anything athletic, I never DNF. So why would it be any different in the rest of my life?  Why do I allow myself to back out of things that could bring me great fulfillment and joy?

I overthink it, that’s why. I over plan, over analyze, over risk assess.  In doing that, I’m not doing myself any favors.  Instead, I don’t pursue what could end up being a great joy in my life.  I miss out and that’s just a rip-off.

So in this current adventure, I feel determined, I have a strong passion for helping women and this training and certification is a way to do that.  That means I need to figure it out, one way or another and make it happen.  And once I do, I’m going to see it through, No DNF.

Doing my best

Paddle Board

I’ve been thinking about how I sometimes choose not to do something because I don’t know how, or I think I’ll look stupid.  This weekend though, I tried two new things just because I thought they sounded fun.  First, I’ve been doing free classes at Athleta and this week was a barre class. I’ve never done it, but it was a lot of fun, even if I couldn’t point both my toes.  But today’s adventure topped it all, seriously.  I went paddle boarding for the first time, but not just straight up paddle boarding, I thought, hey, let’s try  paddle board  yoga, and I’m hooked!

In the past, I’ve aced myself out of paddle boarding because I can’t get my prosthetic leg wet.  But earlier this week when I got the email from REI advertising their class, I stepped outside my comfort zone and signed up.  I have spare legs (I know that sounds weird, but I do, a couple of them), so I wore the oldest one today and figured if it got wet, I didn’t care.  It was the most peaceful, challenging, relaxing experience!  Being on the paddle board made me stay focused and that helped keep my mind still – which is hard with all the randomness that roams around in it.  There were geese, an osprey, and an otter that came to check me out in my plow pose.  I’m so happy that I ignored my second-guessing and just went for it, to think I’ve missed out on paddle boarding all this time!

So it also has me thinking about the expectations we bring with us when we consider doing anything new.  I’m learning that if I show up and do my best, that’s all that matters.  It doesn’t matter if my friend is better, is doesn’t matter if I fall in the water.  What does matter, and what gives me energy, is being outside, showing up, and knowing that I did the best I could.  That was today.

I saw a great movie last night, Eddie the Eagle, which drove home this point.  First let me say that I love the sports underdog movie, I’m a sucker for them.  Rudy, Miracle, I could keep going but you get the picture. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a true story about an Englishman in the 80’s who wanted to go to the Olympics.  He was not athletic, but didn’t care.  Everything he tried he did the best he could.  Eventually, he made it to the Olympics in Lake Placid as a ski jumper.  He came in last but was so excited fans embraced him.  At one point, “The Flying Fish,” Chris Fischetti, who was the top guy in the sport, told Eddie that they were the same.  They both showed up and did their best, no matter that they placed vastly differently, they were the same.

I just love that.  I love the idea that if you do your best you’re at the top of whatever it is you’re doing, whatever it is you’re pursuing.  I think if more people could embrace that thought, instead of the self-imposed expectation that results in comparing ourselves to other people or what we think is “ideal,” we’ve find ourselves a lot happier and actually doing things we might not have otherwise tried.

Just do my best.  That’s all God expects, that’s all I should expect.  Look how it turned out today…I’m feeling “filled up” inside, motivated as I go into my week, and thankful for the joy today brought me.

What’s your story?

Inspire YouI think about a lot of stuff, which you know if you’ve read my blog at all.  It all flows out of my brain and lands here.  It’s sort of how I process stuff.  It’s like processing out loud and it’s a little therapeutic.  Today I’m thinking about my story, and what I want it to be 15 years from now.  Of course, it’s not one of those things where the answer has leapt out.  I wish it was that easy.

Here’s the low down as I see it so far.  Did all the planned stuff.  Grew up in the woods, great family, normal ups and downs like any other family.  We were the family that was always doing.  Winters, we were skiing.  Summers, we were horseback riding in the backcountry, sailing, boating.  Bottom line, lots of doing.  Not a lot of downtime.  And we had a great time. So when I had my kids, I felt like I should always be doing.  I wasn’t content to just sit around the house. It made me antsy, anxious, feeling like I was missing out.  But I stayed busy doing stuff, just stuff, nothing that really made me happy.  Ok, of course hanging with my kids was fun, but there was still more I felt I should be doing.

Then, somewhere in my late 30’s, I found I could ride a bike, a long way, and I was in love.  At first, 20 miles was a long way.  I thought I’d die.  But it got easier, and I kept going.  I discovered that I really like to ride a long way, seemed like my body was meant for it.  I had great friends and we had some crazy adventures!  Overnight bike trips, double centuries, competing, riding with fast guys…things I never would have thought I could do.  I meant so many kind, amazing, inspiring people.  People who accomplished much more than I ever could, who rode in with me on some of those rides that were tough, encouraging me along the way.  Cycling was my passion.

Then life threw me a few curve-balls.  So what else is new, right?  That’s what life does.  Ok, so now what.  Well, you adjust, that’s what.  I slowed down. I hated it, but I slowed down.  But I got used to it and as much as I still had passion for cycling, not spending all day on my bike wasn’t a bad thing.  Except, I missed my bike. I missed getting out in nature, in God’s creation. Getting out and exploring, pushing my body, seeing what I can do.

So I started swimming, and I can’t run, but started walking, fast.  And if endurance was good for cycling, I’d better do that for swimming and walking.  So into the Bay, onto Half-Marathons, Marathons (or, marathon, one…but I’m not done).  I don’t know what it is, but I really like endurance events.  I love the camaraderie, I love pushing my body, and I love the adventure.

I think today this is spilling out my head because it has to do with my story.  At least my story so far.  And I don’t know that it matters, but here’s what I think.  I think that anyone could do what I’ve done and all that I still have on the list to do.  I honestly do.  I think too often we self-impose limits on ourselves.  We listen to what other people say, or what we say in our own heads, about what we can’t do rather than what we can do.  This is where I am thankful.  I had my foot amputated when I was 4, and my story could have been much different.  But my parents never treated me like I was any different than every other little girl.  So all that “doing?” I was doing, I didn’t have a hall pass, I didn’t get out of PE, I did everything everyone else did.  And what a difference that made, it set me out on the right course.  So it never occurs to me that I can’t do something.

That’s the same challenge I’d put out for anyone else.  The only thing limiting you or anyone else is that voice in your head – or maybe it’s someone’s voice – but you can ignore it, that’s ok.  And I think I want that to part of my story. I want to find ways I can help shape someone else’s story.  Help some other woman believe in themselves and believe that those big dreams they have don’t have to be dreams, they can really happen.

Do you ever need a vacation from life?

Am I the only one or do you sometimes feel like you need a vacation from your life? I’ve felt like that before, probably more often than I’d like to admit. The idea of just getting Vacation from Lifeaway from all the stress, the responsibilities and the worries of my life.  I tend to feel like I’m busy all the time, like there’s always something pressing on me.  Is that just me or is that just what life is about in today’s day and age?  I’m not going for it.  Although my kids are older, I see it in kids’ lives these days.  There’s soccer, baseball, dance, gymnastics, and oh yeah, school, homework, and tests.  What about just playing?  What about just playing for adults?  That’s what I want more of.  That feeling of being so relaxed and enjoying what I’m doing that it feels like play.

I saw a quote today, “Don’t create a life that you need a vacation from.”  I felt like it hit me over the head with in an aha moment.  From where I sit, that’s not the kind of life I want, although I wonder if, to a large degree, it is the life I’ve created. But lately I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.  I figure I’m probably more than halfway through my life.  Definitely more than halfway through my working life.  I’ve been doing the same work since I got out of college, and I like it, I feel I’m good at it, and I love the company I work for, but I still wonder if this is how God wants me to ride it out.  Something in my gut tells me it’s not, although I don’t know what else is in store.

I do know a few things.  I want to play more.  I want to make choices in life that are intentional and don’t pile on stress. I want to be better at saying yes to the right things and no to the wrong things. I’ve already pledged to more adventures, so yes, more of those. I want to travel and explore.  And along the way, I think God might show me a few other things.  What I do know is that life should be worth sticking around for, vacations are just a bonus.

Slowing Down

I recently had minor surgery and the doctor said that afterwards I needed to take it easy.  Take it easySeems simple enough, but no.  I immediately had questions.  “So when you say take it easy, what does that mean?” He says I can take short walks but otherwise spend time resting.  So again, I have to ask, “short walks, does that mean a few miles?” Because to me, that seems like a short walk.  Apparently not.  More like around the block or less.  And are you sure I can’t swim? That’s seems like taking it easy.  No.  Not, just a little bit, just straight up no.  It’s going to be a long six weeks…

As an athlete (of sorts) I push myself – I push to test the limits of my own body as much as anything else.  So when I have to take it easy – it messes with my mojo, and in more ways than just physically.  Take it easy also means that I don’t need to get up at 4 a.m. which is what I normally do to swim or bike or walk before work.  It means I don’t get my daily dose of endorphins. It means my routine is completely thrown off, and I thrive in routine – I cannot emphasize that enough, thrive – especially when things around me are uncertain or changing.  Keeping my routine keeps me grounded. Likely I’m not alone in that.  But what I notice is that it throws me off kilter in a big way.

When I’m off kilter, off center, in this case because of the shake up to my routine (oh, and that surgery thing, that didn’t particularly make me feel fantastic), I’m more susceptible to triggers.  Things that I normally would just roll through can cause me to fall apart.  That happened this week.  But in the midst of it, really in the midst of feeling like I was having a melt down (admit it – we’ve all had melt downs), I came to a better place.  I took a few chances.  Normally I am not someone who would ever admit, much less talk about, feeling like I’m less than 100%.  It’s scary, and I have to be vulnerable – not my favorite. But I did this week, I talked to someone I really trust.  Someone who I know has my best interest at heart and whose advice I know is the truth. It’s like she held up a mirror for me.  Showing me all thing things that are going on right now– that take it easy stuff – and how that impacted me.

 

And she’s right.  Here’s what I’m learning through this experience. It’s ok to take it easy.  The world is not ending.  Yes, I’ll lose fitness, yes, my routine is wonky, but it’s ok. It reminds me of when I was cycling a lot and could hold my own.  When faced with a situation where I had to slow down on the bike, it was hard, and I mean really hard. Going my own pace was so much easier.  But the joy in slowing down, in being a buddy to someone else on the bike, was that I got to know them better.  I think maybe that’s the opportunity we have when we slow down.  You get to know other parts of yourself. The parts you just skate by in the midst of busy, in the midst of routine.  Slowing down gives space to be still, to see what comes up.  In truth, it’s somewhat of a gift for those of us who push, who thrive in the known.  It gives a chance to be still.  So for me, with four more weeks to go – I’m going to settle in – I’m going to enjoy the still – I’m going to see what God brings up – and I’m going to embrace it.

 

Say Goodbye

BocelliAdmittedly, I am a fan of dramatic songs.  Those that have big finishes, think Whitney, Celine, Bocelli…and I loved “Time to Say Goodbye,” no matter who sang it, Celine, Celine with Bocelli, Bocelli alone, Bocelli with Sarah Brightman.  At one point I had all those versions in my iTunes, not kidding.  But that title also captures something that I’ve been thinking about, saying goodbye.

It’s not as simple as it would seem, I’ve realized.  So, I have willpower.  I can “say goodbye” to some things pretty easily, like chocolate, except with chocolate, we end up saying hello again pretty often too.  There are a couple ways to say goodbye, I think.  With a habit, for example, you say goodbye to it by simply stopping.  There may be transition, but eventually you make the shift and you’ve removed it from your normal routine.  People though are a little trickier.  On the one hand, you physically say goodbye to someone.  You may or may not be sad to say goodbye but it’s a physical act.  You might hug, you might cry, you might say see you later, or you might say good riddance. It really depends on what kind of relationship you have and the reasons behind saying goodbye.  It could be temporary, or it could be forever.

After you physically say goodbye to someone, you may not see them anymore, but you might continue to have thoughts about them.  The thoughts could be warm and fuzzy, they could be angry, or they could be distracting.  When we think back on someone we’ve said goodbye to, I think it’s not uncommon for our minds to swirl a bit.  The positive things become more positive and the negatives get worse.  But what happens in our head isn’t actually reality, it’s just our thoughts and feelings about reality.  Yes, you may have had a good or negative experience with someone.  You may have loved them, they may have loved you or you may have been hurt by them. But when our minds swirl (ok, when my mind swirls) those positives or negatives become larger than life.  The thoughts can be consuming, distracting, and they can case you (again…me) to get stuck.  It’s the quicksand.

What I’ve figured out in all my ponderings, and yes, there are a lot of ponderings…is that I have to mentally say goodbye.  I have to say goodbye to a person or situation in my head.  I can acknowledge all that it’s been to me, but I have to say goodbye.  It’s a lot harder to do that sometimes that to physically say goodbye.  I can’t just drive away from my thoughts.  I have to make choices (geez, lots of those lately). Saying goodbye in my mind is letting go of that person that has occupied so much of my thought life.  Saying goodbye makes room for other things that belong in my life.  Saying goodbye also keeps me from creating a different version of reality than what may have actually happened.  From creating a more negative or positive version.  It puts to rest what actually was, calls it done.  Frees me from the swirl, from the quicksand.

So with this kind of goodbye, there is no dramatic finish, no crescendo, no flair.  Really only I know about it, and that’s ok.  It’s goodbye but it’s also hello to everything that could be.

Quicksand

QuicksandAs I go through this journey of life, there are certainly peaks and valleys.  I’m no different than anyone else in that regard. But what I’ve noticed lately is that there’s also quicksand, seriously.  Here’s how it goes.  I’ll be going along just fine, feeling like I’m getting mentally strong, focusing on all the right things.  Being positive, happy and then BAM, I’m sliding headfirst into a downward spiral of guilt, shame, blame, doubt and sadness.  What the???  Seriously, how did that happen?  My conclusion, quicksand.

At first it starts with one little, innocent, thought.   Maybe thinking about how I could have done something differently – ya know, for the sake of learning more about myself, making better future decisions.  That’s certainly ok, healthy even. And that little bit of sand on my toes, eh, just brush it off. Next I’m thinking, well if I could have done that, maybe the situation would have taken a different path, hmmm…maybe I messed that part up.  Sandier… Oh geez, maybe I wasn’t giving my best there, maybe I contributed more to the problem than I thought…I failed. Now I’m getting stuck. I can still get out of the quicksand, but it’s slippery.  Next thing I know…my mind has hit the banana peel, and I’m sliding into the quicksand, not only did I fail, I’m too much work, or I’m not enough, or I’m questioning my worth, looking for how I can fix the unfixable situation. Stuck, that’s what I am, crap, and very, very sandy.

Sometimes the slide into the quicksand is slow, sneaks up on me until I’m submerged.  Other times, it’s like a snow snake.  What’s a snow snake? I learned to ski when I was about 4 years old and remember my Dad talking about snow snakes.  It’s the snow snake that will all of a sudden jump out and grab your ski so you fall unexpectedly. You’re going along, minding your own business and WHAM, snow snake, you’re down…you’re face first on the snow, you’re at the bottom of the quicksand and not even sure how you got there.

The thing is, I’m learning that I have a choice. It’s like I test my luck with the quicksand, think I’m strong than it.  It’s ok to let my mind wander to the danger zone in thought land I think, but the problem is it doesn’t stop there. In my case, it’s a specific situation that keeps coming to mind that pulls me down.  I know it’s not the situation’s fault, I allow my mind to go there. To replay, to recreate, to fix, to mend.  But I also know that replaying and recreating doesn’t change anything and I can’t fix or mend it.  I want to, but I can’t, man I really want to, I even want to write that I can’t – right now – but even that’s not true.  All I can fix is me, no one else. So what I have to do is change my thoughts about it, look at it like drifting sand.  It may brush up against me but let it go by.  Letting myself become engulfed by the sand storm, the quicksand, is really a choice.  I can choose to let it pass and not fall into it because it doesn’t do any good, all it does is get me stuck.  What I can do is make choices about going forward.  Focus on where I’m heading, focus on being the best version of me that I can be.  Easier said than done, but getting stuck rips me off of the life God has for me.  That’s the ultimate goal.  So today, even though I’m faced with lingering thoughts that could pull me into the sand, I’ll let them pass. It’s my choice, and I may have to make it over and over but eventually, I won’t have to anymore.