My Pledge to Write Again

I have not been writing blogs as much in the last few years and that is disappointing.   I hear many people say that they write to process life and I concur.  I didn't know that when I started writing here fourteen years ago but it is necessary for me.  It's not that I don't have content because the last year, and those preceding,  I processed much but I just wasn't writing about it. 

Unused creativity is not benign as Brene Brown is quoted.  In just looking up that quote, I realize that I have been feeling all of that: grief, rage, judgment, sorrow and shame.  

I have to figure out how to sit down and write again. And allow the words to flow through.  And let go of the judgment.  

Sometimes ideas have to percolate. Sometimes the material is really personal and it's hard to share out loud.   For some reason, I want to share in a public forum but this is ripe with drawbacks.  Who will read it and will there be a negative reaction? I have experienced those.  I have been waiting to be criticized my whole life.  What I have found is that by the time it makes it to this forum, I have deliberated on it long enough and it flows out.  There is divinity in that flow and there is a joy and truth that occurs along with it. 

I have also found positive remarks from persons who I did not expect to hear from and the only way this occurs is to share publicly.  You never know who it will connect with.  My writing is not meant for everyone of course, but I need it. 

These are unused pictures in the hallway leading up to our primary bedroom.  I have decided I no longer want them in the places they use to hang.  A friend looked at some of them hanging in our dining room and commented about the color of the picture frames and she was 100 percent correct.  I needed another pair of eyes to awaken my senses.  I then looked around at everything hanging on the walls and knew I needed to shake things up and I did and then I got tired and maybe the holidays kicked in...

I have to decide what to do with these last items.  Some are treasured and some I use to treasure.   This process started late October and as of January 9th, today, they are still sitting in the hallway.  God bless my patient husband. 

Processing takes time, whether is processing the events of life or choosing which pictures to hang.   Letting go of the past and being in the present. I know the desire to get this cleaned up will come. Sometimes you just have to Wait for it. 

He Failed the Job Interview for the Highest Court in the Land

On Thursday, a very compelling, articulate, credible woman told her truth of a sexual assault naming her attacker.  Dr. Christine Blasey Ford does not remember exact details, like how she got home when she was running for her life.  Victims of assault don't remember because there has been TRAUMA.  Trauma changes everything. But she absolutely remembers the person(s) who physically assaulted her in the room and the man who held his hand over her mouth removing her ability to breathe.  The sounds of Mark Judge and Brett Kavanaugh's laughter is forever burned in her memory.  Her life has been affected for the last 37 years.

Thirty Seven Years.

Sexual Assault survivors are affected for the rest of their lives.

How many women don't come forward because they are shamed, scared and know they will not be believed?  After the President, who has been accused of sexual assault himself, said it was Dr. Ford's fault for not coming forward when she was fifteen, survivors who have never previously uttered a word to anyone, spoke of their painful stories en masse.  Yet even when women do the bravest thing possible, it just doesn't matter. It comes down to a "he said, she said." The old white men side with the other man.  The statistics are sad and dismal.  Women do not come forward.  Cases do not go to trial and there are not convictions. Rape kits sit untested. There are not usually witnesses to assaults.  And the assaulters get away with their behavior.

The hearing on Thursday was a "he said, she said" without any other witnesses allowed.  She was very credible. He was angry, condescending, and evasive.  So what is the answer? Old white men apologize to the entitled white man and vote him in.  They ignore her truth and are astonished and moved at his emotion.  But his emotion was from being found out and letting his family down. And the white male senators couldn't handle one of themselves crying. "The Democrats broke this man."

No, Kavanaugh broke himself.

Most men and even women, especially these male Senators, don't know how to recognize emotional behaviors in front of their eyes.  They run from anything vulnerable.  They recognize and adulate power.

It is sad that he feels so entitled, that he came out swinging for a lifetime spot on the most dignified and important bench in the United States.  He is no longer qualified because he failed his job interview.  He was playing to a jury of one who appreciates bold and brash denials.  Roy Cohn, the McCarthy lawyer taught that one man jury how to do it so well.

It is time for the old white men's club to be dismantled.

I wish I were one to get out there and march and speak up.  But my calling is to write. Perhaps because I live in the Deep South Bible Belt and it was ingrained in me by the culture to smile, be pretty and stay quiet. This is my own personal quiet revolution.  Writing these words are a coming out in the midst of a deeply red state with very small blue spots in cities.  My senators are the worst. One gives quotable shticky one liners and the other writes articles for mysogynistic, racist websites.

I identified with Dr. Ford sitting in that interview.  She was bright, articulate and funny.  When she began speaking about the assault, she became the fifteen year old girl again.  That is what trauma does to one.  But she knew who attacked her.

Judge Kavanaugh was on a high pressure job interview for a seat on the highest bench in the land.  When he began speaking it was belligerent, partisan, entitled and condescending.  This is not how a judge should comport himself or herself and shows his true character.  Assault charges aside, he is not the best candidate for the job because of how he behaved Thursday.   What his actions revealed was a white man who has always had privilege and could not believe that he was being called out.  He was crying because he got caught.  From his actions under oath, it is entirely believable that he could act aggressive and violently when alcohol enters his bloodstream.

He must have been the shy kid who drank excessively and wasn't having sex but wanted to. He was conflicted about a natural desire and what was dictated by his religious culture.  There seem to be several classmates coming forward to reveal he was a nasty drunk and not exactly the do gooder that he wants the world to believe. None of us are good as we want ourselves to be but don't fib about it under oath.

Kavanaugh is not the best person for this job to legislate women's issues for the next thirty to forty years.  Nominate another candidate. Push that candidate through before the midterms.

It is unfortunate that Dr. Ford's story was leaked when she wasn't ready.  It is unfortunate that the other accusers came forward at the last minute of an arbitrary deadline.  For survivors, there is strength in numbers.   But the allegations have been brought out, and now Senators have to deal with it and follow tradition of due process and not throw hissy fits about it.  Senator Graham doesn't want to know the truth. Did he watch her testimony?  Thank goodness Senator Flake got caught in that elevator with a brave survivor speaking her truth.  And now there is one week for the FBI to gather more information. One week only was given for a lifetime appointment.

In the hearing, Judge Kavanaugh over and over refused to say out loud, let the FBI clear my name.  He kept repeating, I'll do what the committee says.  Because he knew the Majority on the committee was behind him.  He doesn't want further digging.  Why?  He absolutely doesn't want Mark Judge to testify.  He knows he drank too much at times and something in him deep inside, that he's not ready to admit yet, doesn't know what happened every time.   Kavanaugh lied about several facts including Renate, the triangle, and boofing, or whatever it was. There are other lies related to judicial matters.  Instead of answering the blackout drinking question, he made a turn to aggressively ask the kind and seemingly meek female Senator Klobuchar if she had the alcohol problem.   This is what a defensive, guilty aggressive person does.  He is trying to paint himself as the victim when Dr. Ford's life has been affected for the last thirty seven years.  People at that particular gathering where the assault took place may not know anything because she ran away and didn't tell anyone as survivors do, but there are people that could testify to a pattern of his behavior, mental health professionals that would explain her memory gaps, lie detector results for both of them and character witnesses on both sides. And then there are the other accusers.

We are at a place today, where getting the facts still may not make a difference because of the makeup of the Senate.

The Senate Judiciary Majority are completely ignoring the other accusers that have come forward because they don't want to know anymore and they want to push this nomination through. (Merrick Garland, anyone?)   Those accusers are willing to testify under oath to the FBI, the non-partisan information gathering body.  Kavanaugh doesn't, but why?  He just kept repeating, "I was ready to show up the next day to clear my name."  The next day would not give any time for an investigation.  How does a Federal Judge not understand that concept?

Courtesy of Megamamas

When people are found out, they do lie to save themselves. Our President is one of those who lies every day, day in and day out.  He has no credibility whatsoever in this matter.  He calls all his accusers liars.  And he was found out to be lying about Stormy Daniels per his own lawyer.  Judge Kavanaugh has proven to be on the same page as the partisan pussy grabber in chief to double down and repeat a lie until it seems it's the truth.  Judge Kavanaugh defended himself in a brash, aggressive manner maybe because that's who he really is or for Trump so that he would remain the nominee.   There is no doubt he and his family has suffered in the last 2 weeks, (contrast that with 37 years) but when you want to sit on the most respected, highest court in the land for the next thirty to forty years, the candidate must be thoroughly investigated even when new allegations come at the very last moment. 

Sexual assault victims do not come forward.

Dr. Ford showed more character, bravery and composure after a lifetime of suffering.  She did her civic duty.  She's reliving her worst trauma in front of the nation but she didn't whine and complain like Dr. Kavanaugh.  Women can be Steel Magnolias.  Judge Kavanaugh is having to come to grips with his past too.  Perhaps he could have come clean and said, I don't remember what happened when I drank too much, it is possible but I don't know.  I am a changed man now.

Those are pipe dreams I know.  But one day in the future.

There were witnesses to his past and I hope we find out more of the truth. I don't count on it because I have equal parts pessimism and optimism in me.

I do know, he failed the job interview.

I hope beyond all hope, that there is a wave of qualified women and minorities coming forth to lead and dismantle the old boys club.  Women came forward after Anita Hill and ran for office in record numbers.  It is accepted that what Dr. Hill said back then was true about Judge Thomas and she was maligned in the process.  And some of the same men back then are still judging now.   What will we know about this particular assault in the future?  What truths will come out over time?

Feelings, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa Feelings

In lower and middle school, I took piano lessons.  When I quit lessons, there were just a few remaining songs that I could sit down and play by memory.  "The Rose", "You Light Up My Life" and "Feelings" were the emotional songs that I sat down and belted out every word.  I think there was a Barry Manilow in the repertoire as well, of course! {giggle}

I'm finding the irony of how enamored I was with those heart wrenching sentimental songs and where I am now.  I have come full circle.

Somewhere along the way from childhood on and most especially after a terrible bout of Postpartum Depression, I shut down allowing myself to experience a full range of feelings or what I like to now call by the proper name of energy.  Feelings are just energy, plain and simple.  Society and those persons closest to us, tell us not to cry, not to be angry and ignore the anxiety and Just Do It.  It's both a natural reaction to cry but also it seems to try and stop someone from having an emotional catharsis.  How many times have you seen someone apologize for making someone cry or apologize for crying oneself and then making a joke about it?  It can go to the extreme though, as a good portion of America now numbs itself with compulsions or addictions.  Nowadays, there are more compulsions that you can shake a stick at.  The old standards are still there: alcohol, drugs, gambling, food, cleaning, exercising and newer ones with that have crept in with technology, all so we can avoid ourselves and the emotional energy that naturally comes up in life.  We are turning away from ourselves (and the Divinity within).  And it takes a lot of practice to turn towards oneself again.

For years, I have been listening to a marvelous teacher named Mary O'Malley, a therapist in Washington State.  In interviews, videos, and articles, Ms. O'Malley states that in essence befriending and being curious with the compulsion is the way through, not trying to fight it head on but rather using curiosity and compassion.

Curiosity and compassion towards myself? Are you kidding? How contradictory is this to the message from the diet industry which owns my compulsion:  restrict, and deny yourself through eating.   As then there is the Western mentality of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and white knuckling through whatever. 

I have been missing the curiosity and compassion component for years even though I had heard of it. I had no idea of how to do it.  I figured out I needed to feel my feelings so I started gutting myself through all of them.  I learned that anger is a sign that boundaries are being tread on and so I took different actions with certain people.   I faced anxiety and deep sadness head on.  I cried buckets, and sat with discomfort that I wanted to escape from more than anything.  A true bonus though, was learning that joy was in this mix of energy too.  I began to feel utter joy from simple encounters with my family, friends and nature because when you turn away and numb, you numb everything.

What Ms. O'Malley points out is that we judge our energy (feelings) and that keeps us in the vicious cycle.

I JUDGE MYSELF FOR HAVING THE ENERGY THAT COMES!

I'm screaming this because I need that to sink in as I practice acceptance. 

She describes four kinds of movements in regards to energy.  The first is anger that I'm not getting what I want.  The second is fear and I'm getting what I don't want.  The third is despair/sadness that I will never get what I want.  Lastly, Mary says the glue that holds them all together is judgement.

We want to escape the anger, sadness, fear and we try to think ourselves out of the shame, guilt and whatever else is associated with it.  In my head, I think so very many derogatory thoughts of myself.  Why am I feeling this way, no one else is?  I need to get over this.  I am so pitiful.  What can't I be stronger, etc. etc.  I beat myself up.  Let's just pile it on. That will make things better. NOT.

Ms. O'Malley does a brilliant in depth explanation of the next step and more in her book, The Gift of Our Compulsions, if you are so inclined.  I had a simple event recently that highlighted the act of compassion towards myself.  I know Mary knows what she is talking about but knowing and experiencing the phenomena are two completely different things.  Both of my kids went off in different directions for the first week of summer.  Four years ago on a Sunday,  I watched Mallory drive off on a bus towards camp, a destination 6 hours away for the first time, and I cried uncontrollably.  I couldn't contain it, and I couldn't pull it together to attend church.  Four years later, we were going to church on another Sunday, yet Mallory was already gone to Texas and we were going to be bringing Riley to catch the bus for a weeklong mission trip. As I got dressed that morning, I immediately experienced a strong wave of "I've got to cry" sadness.

And then something brilliant happened if I do say so myself.  In that wave, I immediately accepted the fact that I was going to cry my eyes out and deemed that it was okay.  NO BIG DEAL. I packed up makeup to refresh myself so that I could go to church.  And I went on with my morning and the sad wave of energy passed.

I didn't resist the energy, or judge it.  I know how much I love my girls and I'm watching them grow up and be independent, which I didn't learn until my forties.  Four years ago,  I was probably crying for my own self who was scared of everything and transferring it to Mallory. She was totally fine and excited. But it doesn't matter why I cried.  This time,  I ACCEPTED IT.  My goal here is self acceptance and love.

Energy comes and goes. Learning compassion and curiosity towards myself, opens my heart to those around me and in the world.  It's my new practice.

Feelings, whoa, whoa, whoa feelings.  Again in my heart.

Namaste.

My First Aerobics Class Since 2008

I stepped out of my comfort zone this afternoon.  And I say Hallelujah every time I do this in large and small ways.  I attended a zumba type dance class.  I have not attended any type of "fitness" class other than yoga in many years.  I can tell you exactly when I walked away.  The scene is perfectly etched in my mind.  I see it.

It was 2008 and it was a horrible Muscle Works Class at a local gym.  I wrote about it on June 13, 2009 entitled "Nightmare in Muscle Works"  The instructor was a meanie.  I just reread what happened and I forgot some of the interaction that went on between she and I.  I don't do well with meanies.  Life is too short to deal with people that are negative and condescending.  It was such a defining moment that I walked away from ever attending another class like that for nearly 8 years.

At that time, I did decide yoga was my pathway for class settings but even that was in a very tepid, careful way.   And I LOVE YOGA and what it does for me.    I have had a love/hate relationship with "exercise" for a long time and I'm coming out of it.  That class or rather, that teacher made me feel inferior and discouraged about exercise classes, and I let her.  But yoga helped me work through it.

I realized tonight that I let that one person affect me dramatically.  There were plenty of other classes and teachers and gyms.  Yet, that is okay.  This was supposed to be my journey.

Found a picture on FB! That is me all the way to the left.

So this afternoon, I went to a Refit dance class taught by a teacher and another parent from my children's school.  I have been watching another Facebook friend post about the Refit classes she teaches for a couple of years now.  I was probably invited to attend one but it never entered my mind, that I could DO the class.  It looked somewhat appealing but in my head, I said, I can't.

That is so sad.

But I feel differently today.  I needed to walk away all those years ago.  I needed to practice yoga and develop a healthier relationship with exercise.  I am learning to listen to my body and know that it likes to move.  Not every single day but movement has become joyful moreso than "I HAVE to do this."  My body is a temple and I want to take care of it and that is sinking in more and more.  When I was resistant to going even to yoga, which I have been doing for fourteen years, my friend says she looks upon it as a massage.  I had never thought of it that way.  That is sinking in too.

Now, I WILL be sore for the next few days.  I can already feel some muscles feel like jello.  But it is great to move unused muscles and there is ibuprofen after all.

So, I plan to make another class soon and keep trying. It will take some time to learn the moves but it was fun.  It was a wonderful way to move my body with music and other women and no meanies.

Namaste.

It's Time for Another Thing: Burn Baby Burn

These are all of the medical papers from the journey it took for George and I to get pregnant.

Here they all are: Invoices, Claims, Denied Claims and Explanation of Benefits, from the gynecologist, the reproductive endocrinologist's office, the lab, two hospitals and our insurance provider. And then the prescription papers…

I had them all in a green file folder box neatly ordered with tabs. It was the most organized I've ever been in my life. And I've never been that organized again.  I wanted to be a mother so badly.  

This was a very ugly, hard time for me.  

I've decided it's time to let the papers go.

Twelve years in the making.

The girls and I had a ceremonial burn, while swimming in the pool.  (Mothers are always multi-tasking.) Riley really enjoyed adding each paper in.  There was a symbolism there.  The child that was so hard to conceive was helping me let go of my infertile past.

Mallory helped us flame the fire too but her thoughts turned to smores. We had enough graham crackers for one smore and Brinkley was even able to get in on it.

The papers burned, the ashes piled up.  George asked how it felt.  I really didn't feel that much except the heat of the fire.  I had been holding on to this papers for so long but they really didn't mean anything to me anymore.

How much more am I carrying around that is weighing me down that needs to be burned off?

How much more "stuff" is lying around that needs to be let go of?  I'm so excited to address this issue.   I am delighted to begin working through small areas of my house, one by one.  Who knew I would ever get so excited about cleaning.

The fertility papers are gone and it's time to move on
to whatever else is dragging me down.

Will it somehow lead to more chocolate for Mallory?

Will Brinkley end up getting a bite?

Stay tuned.

Namaste.

The Way I Look At Myself in the Mirror

The truth is the mirror has always been a really hard place.  And I NEVER, EVER, NEVER thought it would get any easier.  Yesterday, I read a sentiment of a female looking at an old picture of herself and she wondered how had she thought she was heavy at the time of the picture.

I've done the same thing.  I thought I was heavy in high school, and college, and in my thirties, etc.  And in the past, I have looked at those pictures and thought, wow, if I could only be at that weight now.

I could fly with that weight.

So evidently, in my teens, the body image distortion was already in place and thriving.  Negative thoughts about myself were abundantly flowing.

I have been wanting to really write about body image for 2-3 years now, but something has been holding me back.   I feel like I shouldn't have a voice because my BMI is higher than I would want.  Yet, I have been in groups of thin and average sized women recently and was startled to hear complaints that they are fat, and worried about how their clothes look, and they shouldn't be eating this food, etc.

Body image distortion (and issues with food) are abundant and pervasive.

And I think, "Well, I'm not the only one."  And then my critical self thinks, "Yes, but you do have some weight to lose so you have no right to an opinion." In years past, I felt it was necessary to announce to anyone that would listen, that I knew I needed to lose weight and how I was working on that.  It makes me shudder to think that I thought so little of my self.  The self that an abundantly loving divine presence made.

And Love is the answer after all.

After many diligent years and intentional work of learning to love myself unconditionally, the result has been a shift in my core belief and the thoughts in my head.  

Weight does not equal self worth.  I am not my weight.

Ohhh, I've hit a nerve.  Tears sprang to my eyes when I wrote that.  Coming to this truth has been so hard.  My therapist says body image is one of the issues that takes the longest to heal.    It's a booger.  (smile)  If you look at any media, there it is.  We as women, at every turn, are told we need to lose weight, look younger, defy aging, have larger breasts, etc.  That is one of the reasons I avoid commercials, among other things.

One way that I know that I'm healing my body image is by putting on a form fitting long gown and going out to a formal occasion.  This was a huge step.  I have done it a few times in the last few years and it was uncomfortable each time, I hesitated to go.   Yet at a point during the evening, I think, wow,  I'm having such a great time how can that be?   Even though there's more of me than I would like.  Am I allowed to have fun even though my dress size is double digits?  Am I allowed to have fun even though the local boutiques don't even carry something to fit me? 

Absofuckinloutely.

(Pardon my French, the point just didn't seem the same without the swear word - Thanks Mr. Big!) 

Another way I know I'm healing is my yoga practice.  I have been choosing to go to yoga because my body wants to move.  (or walking, or bike riding, or turning on the music and dancing!)  I have to be very careful about making myself do any particular activity because "I'm supposed to."  As I have worked to diminish the crappy "supposed to" thoughts in my head, I have learned my body tells me pretty much every day that it wants to move.  And I'm hearing it and responding on most days.  And it feels delightful, empowering, joyful and strengthening.  So different than when I did it because I was "supposed to."  It's coming from a much healthier vantage and one that I look forward to instead of dreading.  (And my body will also tell me what food it needs for fuel as I have shed the diet mentality and supposed to's in that area as well.)

While practicing yoga in different studios, there tend to be large mirrors.  Form fitting clothing works best for yoga.  I unconsciously or consciously refrained from going many times because of the fear of the mirror, or what others would think, etc.   Here's the flummoxing part: in practice at a mirrored studio, in my head with my eyes closed, I feel lean and strong.  And then I open my eyes and the mirror does not match what's in my head.  This startled and shocked me the first few times it happened and it still does even now but to a lesser degree.

As my body has wanted to move and I listen, I have been practicing more regularly and moved up to the harder class.  Through this repeated exposure, I've been making friends with my appearance in the mirror.  Slowly, ever so slowly, over time, the thoughts that I'm not enough have been fading and ones that I am enough as I am have been forthcoming. And even with aches and pains here and there in my body, over time, the predominant feeling that has been emerging is one of strength.  The practice of yoga is not only strengthening my body, but my mind and my spirit.  It feels so freaking good to move through the positions, and it feels like a solid flow, as well as shaky, sweaty, catching, breathing hard and muscles aching.   I try poses even for just a few seconds that my head tells me I can't.  I hold that harder position and my body and mind grow.  The I can't begins to fall away.

I am flying in this body.

Namaste.

My First Red Carpet…

Recently, a good friend and I attended a Red Carpet Gala for a fabulously intimate downtown theatre.  What was the reason to make my introverted self buy a new outfit and get dressed up on a weeknight and drive downtown by myself?

Rick Springfield!

The last few years, I have been stepping out and doing all sorts of things I would normally not do.  I lived in fear. Before, I wouldn't have left the kids, I wouldn't have wanted to find a dress and deal with body image issues. I wouldn't have driven downtown. I would have worried about parking.  I would have worried if I was "good enough" to be there because I thought everyone else was "better" than me. All of those ideas are non-issues now, but they held me captive.  Those were the stories I told myself.



And this is what my soul journey is all about!  Letting go of what has held me captive.


Our night started out good, took an immediate downturn and then perked up, and ended spectacularly.  Before we even arrived to the venue, walking from the parking garage, I dropped my friend's phone and cracked the screen.  Not a good start.

I knew in that moment, I had to let it go because I wanted to enjoy the evening.  It was an accident.  After the shock, she had to let it go as well, it was her phone!  I offered to help pay for it, and she said she needed a glass of wine so off we went.  We started chatting with acquaintances.  It was still in the back of my mind but I pushed it back enough to let go and have a good time.  I had a small shame spiral the next day but it flowed through.

I knew a lot of people there and we enjoyed our pre-concert time.  There was a booth to take pictures with Rick cut outs and it was a raffle with the prize meeting Rick after the concert.








Guess who won?

In preparation for the concert, I dug out my one Rick Springfield Greatest Hits CD and checked out his autobiography called, "Late, Late At Night" and began reading and listening. His story was compelling.  I watched present day interviews when he became tearful talking about his life-long depression, suicide attempt and use of meditation, writing and the love of his family to survive.  This is my kind of rock star.  Tortured, vulnerable, talented and truthful.

I hadn't listened to any of his recent music since the 80's but started finding it on the web and was fascinated.  All day before the concert, I did my research.  I have to prepare before I go and refamiliarize myself with Rick and his current endeavors, including his newly releasing fiction book.
Up until yesterday, I still had two chapters left to read in his memoir and I put off finishing them.  I didn't want to say goodbye to Rick.  It was such a fun night of great music, dancing, and a thrilling chance to meet him.

I have now finished the book.  I have now written the blog.  And I can always reminisce about this great memory.  It will always be a great memory and the possibilities of what can happen when you step out of your comfort zone:  the good, the bad and the spectacular!

I've Got Other Things to Think About...

At the end of last week, I was down on myself.  These spiraling thoughts come and it seems like I can't stop them and it feels like they will never go away.  It's about weight and size and while I'm in the middle of it, it feels like the end of the world.  And then sadness sets in.  And I want to fight to get out of this SO much.  Yet "fighting" it just prolongs the temporarily massively uncomfortable feelings.

As I drove to my therapist's office for my regular scheduled appointment, I felt the heaviness that something needed to be expressed but I wasn't exactly sure what it was. I bring up the body image feelings going on, and I'm advised that there must be a disconnect going on.  A disconnect as in,  all is not well with my soul, (or my sense that on a general level I'm o-kay).  When this disconnect occurs the first place that I attack is ME and I start JUDGING myself unmercifully!
I watch a tv show and think, wow, that woman is so thin and I'm not.  And I see my body and think horribly judgmental things about it.


So back at therapy,  I bring up a few issues and I guess that combined to make a disconnect.  This is the thing, I can't prevent these feelings from coming (which is what I want to do!) I just have to warmly embrace the feelings of wanting to escape who I am for a few days!!

I can see when the judgmental attack of myself is over that it was just a blip and it lasted a few days.  The feelings come and if I just tend them with care and curiosity (Thank you Mary O'Malley)  as to why they came, they dissipate. (And there doesn't have to be an answer to the questions of curiousity either.)
But paying attention and being curious will bring me to areas that I can attend to.  And if I had a job outside the home, with job performance reviews, they would be called "Areas of Growth Opportunities!!"

I use to have these negative body thoughts on a regular basis throughout the day, but that is ceasing.  So I was surprised that they came up with such a vengeance.  It's always a surprise, but this is the journey all along.


In the meantime,  this is what I will practice.  This stunned me when I read it, because I don't do this very well.

Namaste

...and Not Be Ashamed

Wowza - Love this!  I really need to read some of her books.