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Courage

Watching to “To The Bone” on Netflix today a lot of it hit home. I have struggled as far back in my life as I remember with an eating disorder. More than that this movie was a good reminder about living life. 
Folks, I beg you to take note in the real world there is no way to be safe or see and live just the good moments. 

Stop waiting for life to be easy. The more you push through the muck and the mud; the garbage and the sludge the more brilliance and beauty you will find. 

Stop hoping for someone or something to come along and save you. We are meant to be resilient and when you stare down the demons and that awful shit… you are going to have an AMAZING life. 

I offer you this poem for a bit of reflection. Please enjoy and move into the week with intention! 

Courage 

     by Anne Sexton

It is in the small things we see it.

The child’s first step,

as awesome as an earthquake.

The first time you rode a bike,

wallowing up the sidewalk.

The first spanking when your heart

went on a journey all alone.

When they called you crybaby

or poor or fatty or crazy

and made you into an alien,

you drank their acid

and concealed it.


Later,

if you faced the death of bombs and bullets

you did not do it with a banner,

you did it with only a hat to

comver your heart.

You did not fondle the weakness inside you

though it was there.

Your courage was a small coal

that you kept swallowing.

If your buddy saved you

and died himself in so doing,

then his courage was not courage,

it was love; love as simple as shaving soap.


Later,

if you have endured a great despair,

then you did it alone,

getting a transfusion from the fire,

picking the scabs off your heart,

then wringing it out like a sock.

Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow,

you gave it a back rub

and then you covered it with a blanket

and after it had slept a while

it woke to the wings of the roses

and was transformed.


Later,

when you face old age and its natural conclusion

your courage will still be shown in the little ways,

each spring will be a sword you’ll sharpen,

those you love will live in a fever of love,

and you’ll bargain with the calendar

and at the last moment

when death opens the back door

you’ll put on your carpet slippers

and stride out.



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My Summer of Dresses

So I literally spent the entire summer in dresses. Skater dresses, Maxi dresses, Sun dresses.  Workdays were spent in dresses and casual Fridays where jeans should be worn… dresses.

I am “not a dress person.” A former coworker who has now left my job said having my gallbladder removed was probably the best thing that could have happened to my fashion sense. … WOW. I guess maybe it was supposed to be a confidence booster about my dresses.  I have been trying not to criticize myself too harshly, especially as my wardrobe now contains an obscene number of dresses.

For those keeping track my galbladder surgery was back in… April.  I had not been able to wear pants for the longest time due to the incision in my belly button.  It would not heal.  The dissolvable stitches they used were not being disolved by my body.  They were also poking out through the incision causing further irritation and scarring.

About two weeks ago I tried jeans again for the full day.  It was uncomfortable, but manageable.  I have missed my “normal” clothes.  They are an expression of me… and while the dresses are an expression they don’t have the same way of expressing things as my unicorn, superhero, or coffee shirts do.

So I have now morn my jeans a few times, like maybe three… they are not as comfy as they once were… but they still fit! Which is something I was concerned about due to the possible weight gain or body shift having nothing forn fitting being worn in months!

Fall is here, which means it will be time to modify my wardrobe… adding leggings under my dresses, but I will likely continue my dresses into fall and winter since pants are still leave me counting down the time to get them off at the end of the day.

I am happy as a clam to be finally feeling like I am almost back to normal where I can get back to a starting point to regaining my stamina.  I can’t even begin to explain how difficult it has been to wrap my head around how kind i need to be to my body to allow it to recover on its own terms.

Kindness to ones own self is possibly one of the most dificult things I have had to learn.

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Haters Gonna Hate.

Players gonna play, and haters gonna hate! I headed into work today, still buzzing a little bit high from having done the color run yesterday.  I was still sporting my silver and gold star temporary tattoos on my left arm and my silver unicorn on my right arm, as it is okay to have these things show at work, or so it seems, when I was asked about that “thing on my arm.”

I said oh this? Excited to have someone ask about my unicorn, I went on to say it was part of the Color Run yesterday, and that I was still sort of stained a little bit, because I have some splotches of paint scattered various places.  As I explained what the color run was, I got this whiff of nastiness washing over me from the other party involved.  “Why were you even outside yesterday.” “You shouldn’t be doing that.” “You’re going to *blah blah blah*” and I tuned right on out. In my mind all I could do was visualize myself rising above all of the what I can only imagine as self-doubt, or self-hate, or something else internally because, I knew my limits, and I respected them.

Yes it was hot, yes I am sore because I have ONE new blister… but I did really well with prep work on my feet and managed to protect enough that I only ended up with one.  I spent much of the day picturing myself as a little red balloon rising along a rainbow in the sky of clouds and sun today. I can be rooted in the ground, and floating above things at the same time.  It is a very, peaceful place to be, and I am working very hard to stay in this place.

I am working to let go of a lot of things, things that are too stressful, things I cannot change.  I often find that I am accused of doing too many things for other people, and am working on a balance of doing things for myself.  The act of rising above is a gift of kindness itself.  To forgive others for their judgement and harshness is a gift to others.

I am a work in progress, but I feel like working towards a shift in the way we think helps change who we are and how we see the world.  I am doing my best to take a moment each day and honor myself, whether it is in forgiveness, in physical action, or in some other way.

Be kind to yourself, be kind to each other, and remember to find something everyday to celebrate, inside and outside of yourself!