Tag: #workingthruit

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What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

IMG_2909This quote, by famed minister Robert Schuller, is used all the time in inspirational quotes or speeches.  I’ve always liked it and was thinking about what I would do today during Paddleboard Yoga.  Stirring around in my head were happy memories from going to Boulder for the weekend and other adventures I still have on the drawing board in my head but on which I haven’t made a move.

I tend to think that I hold myself back from taking action, from taking risks, because the thought of failing gives me a fairly heavy dose of anxiety. No kidding, I strive to do things which I know I can accomplish.  Things that are dependent only on me. It’s why I like individual sports.  I’m responsible for my performance, for how well I “hit the bar.”  I can be like that at work sometimes too.  While I’ll always say yes to a project, I make darned sure I will succeed.  While the thought of working collaboratively with others makes sense to me, and, in concept, is something I want to do, push comes to shove, I’m taking that puppy over. I realize this isn’t my healthiest thought pattern, but I own it.  I work on it.

This morning I was doing SUP (Paddleboard) Yoga, which I love. It’s hard, my balance is not fantastic, and today I was really wobbly.  I had the “opportunity” to cool off several times when I fell in the water. I’ve done SUP Yoga 4 times now through REI.  Each time, the main instructor is Dyanna, who is awesome and who encourages me to try hard balancing poses.  The last couple of times, I’ve been trying to do a headstand.  Tried again today… more opportunities to get wet. Today in the midst of my efforts, the other instructor, Megan, told me to think about the journey not the destination. Another familiar quote, but one which always resonates with me.

And something clicked for me.  It wasn’t the headstand, no, that’s well photo documented as not happening yet. What clicked is that I was trying something which, in all reality, I had a high chance of failing. (In my head right now and at that moment, mic drop) I tried, knowing the headstand is thus far elusive to me, and nothing bad happened.   I took risk, I fell, and nothing bad happened. No one mocked me, I didn’t get hurt, I’m not on the SUP Yoga blooper role. Instead, I got encouraged for trying.  I was proud of myself for merely making the attempt.

I thought about some of the other areas lately where I’ve been brave, taken a risk, and maybe failed a little, but still tried.  And the world hasn’t stopped.  When I went to Boulder, I had a great time, after having an anxiety attack standing in the Denver airport and nearly starting to cry.  But I pushed forward. I’m in my class to become a certified coach, and it’s hard, and I feel like my first peer coaching session was a hot mess, but I’m pushing forward. I had a really hard, honest conversation with someone last week, and I don’t know where that will end up, but I was brave and I put myself out there.

In my head I so often think that I don’t take risks, that I keep myself in a safety bubble or safety zone. But now I don’t think that’s really true.  If I can shift my mind to think of things I’ve tried, maybe failed, maybe not, but that I chose to experience nonetheless, couldn’t that go on the win side in my mind?  If I could remember that even if a small part of the adventure is hard, or that I might not succeed, like my SUP Yoga headstand, but that overall I was still brave and took a chance, what else might I try? Where else have I had success but let the “fail” become how it’s defined in my mind?

There’s the challenge. I have a choice how I want to define and characterize my experiences.  I can choose fail or I can choose brave and fun and success. In that light, wow! Many more successes, being very brave. So think about it, I’ll bet you are very brave, and that you’ve had a million wins! Make the shift and you’ll see it too.

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Knowing the difference

Here’s a few things I know about myself.  I like things the way I like them, I’m fussy – truth. I can be a little tricky, much more of a daisy than I’d like to own up to. I like playing pretty and my eyeRoyal Arch Journeylashes. I love my early mornings of journaling and coffee at Starbucks.  I’m a neat freak, trying to reform, but ask my kids, it’s a real thing. I make the bed, every day. I floss, and use mouthwash, leftover food taste in my mouth – that’s not happening. I arrive early for appointments, or when I meet people – it’s polite.  I don’t like anger as an emotion in me, it doesn’t happen.  Frustration happe
ns, irritation happens, but not anger (yes, I know I’m splitting hairs). I am independent.  I am an athlete.  I am passionate about athletic fitness – not gym fitness necessarily – but fitness outside, in God’s beautiful creation. I am emotional, I cry sometimes and sometimes more than others.  I care deeply for people and want the best for them.

I also know that I am ok being alone.  I like it, to some degree.  I can do what I want to do, or not do, when I want to do it.  That’s an adventure I’m on right now.  A weekend alone…away from home. Wait, what? The away from home threw me for a loop.  Maybe I’m ok being alone in my realm at home, with my home base to go back to when I make day trips.  It gives me security.  This trip was brave for me. I came to Boulder alone on Friday and have to be in Denver Sunday afternoon for work.  It was the perfect time to make a little side trip.  I was packed and good to go.  But when I arrived, I felt overwhelming anxiety.  What was that about?? I made myself push through it, and it’s been hard.  Saturday I hiked for hours and it was beautiful, and I was at peace in nature, like I often am. Afterwards though, my not so friendly friend anxiety tried to come back. I’m aware it’s there, but I’m trying to blow it off, or at least make friends with it so it doesn’t get in my way.

All those things I know about myself, I like them – tricky stuff and all, I like being alone – sometimes, so why do I feel like this on a weekend where I’m working on being brave? I think what I’ve come to realize over the last couple weeks is that even though I’m ok to be alone, I’m lonely.  All those things I like about me, I want to share them.  I want to be sitting here talking with someone about how much fun today was, how beautiful it is here. I miss that.  It’s something I’m aware of, and I have a lot of thoughts about it that are for another day.

What I do know though is that the feeling I have of wanting to lean in, it’s still there.  I know that sometimes people will think that when you’re alone it means you’re lonely.  But it doesn’t.  I wasn’t lonely for a long time even though I was alone, for a lot of reasons.  I think that in these moments, the best I can do is to lean in to what I have, the family, the friends, the passion. And really, that’s what we all should be doing anyways, leaning in to those we love and care about.  When we do, when we have connection and love, loneliness will fade and we can enjoy where we are – at that moment.

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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.

 

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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.

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Sorry seems to be the hardest word…

How utterly, truly, cliché.  Really. Dates me because I remember that song, Elton John stuck in head forever.  I think what might be harder though is to say I forgive you – and mean it.  SayiSorry Seems to be the hardest wordng  you’re sorry can be hard, but it’s really about what you’ve done.  Telling someone you forgive them, well that’s about them.  It’s about you releasing them from your heart.  In reality, it releases you more than them because carrying around the bitterness and pain doesn’t hurt the other person, it hurts you.  This is not new news to anyone. Even so, it’s still hard.  I recently forgave someone and it was hard.  But I’m happy, I feel freer, lighter.  I didn’t forget, but that pain isn’t inside me anymore.

So you would think that if I needed to forgive myself, it would come a little easier.  In fact, it’s not easy, no, not easy at all, in fact, it’s like that Elton John song, or the Barney theme song when my kids were little, it will not go away.  The mistakes I’ve made run over and over and over.  I think I’ve forgiven myself – because I know God has – but then I bring them all up in my mind again.  And I’m right back there, in shame, in guilt, in beating myself up.

I was thinking about this more today, really wanting to once and for all be free and forgive myself.  I can’t move forward if I keep bringing all that baggage along.  Not only does it occupy a lot of my mind but it’s heavy, and depressing, and makes me sad.  But yet I keep playing through it all in my head again.  Then today, I was in a different place. I think one of the reasons I may hold on to it – similar to staying in a bad relationship – is that I know it.  It’s familiar.  It’s not comfortable – but it’s a comfortable feeling per se because I know it.  I know what to expect.  The emotions that run through my head are known – nothing new.  So as much as it’s painful, it’s an old bathrobe.  I know the holes (ok…metaphorically only…I would never own a bathrobe with holes…seriously) and I know how much it wraps me up, but man o man, I need to throw it away.

Arriving at this thought, I remembered that if I roll along comfortable all the time, I’m not experiencing anything new.  I’m not growing.  I’m not reaching.  Yeah, I may also have disappointment in the unknown, but the joy I can feel is worth so much more.  And I know that God doesn’t call me to be comfortable.  He wants me to experience the life He’s created for me.  So maybe I’m ready.  I feel ready. I really feel ready to forgive myself once and for all.  I mean, God has, and I didn’t hide anything from Him.  He’s knows all the ugly.  I’ve learned but it’s time to go forward and say what really are the hardest words, I forgive me.