As of right now, in this moment, I'm doing okay.
Took me five days to sign up. Commitment. whoa. Need to some BIG fearlessness in this one.
So... yay me... for hitting the confirm payment/signup button.
*wiping brow* *deep breath* and on we go
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Points with Which to be Fearless
Well...I joined Weight Watchers Point Plus program. I'm just going with 5% increments. So first goal is 15 pounds. I'd be happy with 5 for now.
As of right now, in this moment, I'm doing okay.
Took me five days to sign up. Commitment. whoa. Need to some BIG fearlessness in this one.
So... yay me... for hitting the confirm payment/signup button.
*wiping brow* *deep breath* and on we go
As of right now, in this moment, I'm doing okay.
Took me five days to sign up. Commitment. whoa. Need to some BIG fearlessness in this one.
So... yay me... for hitting the confirm payment/signup button.
*wiping brow* *deep breath* and on we go
Monday, January 2, 2012
fearless is ...
Today, fearlessness occurred when I went outside and it was extremely windy and 40 degrees and I had a "stomach pit" memory (or PTSD?) reaction to the weather. By "stomach pit", I mean not a picture in my head or words in my brain -- just the cold hard fist of fear in the belly.
It was an old, old feeling of fear and uneasiness. I didn't like it. I wanted to run back in the house and hide. My breath was shallow and fast, and I could feel panic in my throat. I just thought Get in the car. Get in the car. I got in the car and I said breathe breathe breathe.
And...I breathed. In and out. In and out. I went to the store and I came home. I had to bring in the garbage can - all the way at the end of the driveway. I asked Kathi to watch me so I could get it.
Was I fearless? Hell yes! I breathed. I got in the car. I went to the store. I came home. I got the garbage can. I asked for help. When I had some residual panic, I colored. Coloring soothes the soul and helps me get back to me and focus.
So fear -- ZERO
Diana -- ONE
It was an old, old feeling of fear and uneasiness. I didn't like it. I wanted to run back in the house and hide. My breath was shallow and fast, and I could feel panic in my throat. I just thought Get in the car. Get in the car. I got in the car and I said breathe breathe breathe.
And...I breathed. In and out. In and out. I went to the store and I came home. I had to bring in the garbage can - all the way at the end of the driveway. I asked Kathi to watch me so I could get it.
Was I fearless? Hell yes! I breathed. I got in the car. I went to the store. I came home. I got the garbage can. I asked for help. When I had some residual panic, I colored. Coloring soothes the soul and helps me get back to me and focus.
So fear -- ZERO
Diana -- ONE
The word is...
Fearless
I'm stealing from my friend Tracie and stating my word ... fearless ... for 2012.
Her blog helped me see that I already had preconceptions on what it meant to be fearless.
So now, I just have the word ... fearless ... and 2012 will be what it will be, and I will keep repeating the word ... fearless ... and hope the universe helps me see moments when I can apply it as I need it and how I need it.
Fearless
*wow, I'm afraid now that I've put that out there... breathing innnn breathing outttt and hitting publish ... fearless"
I'm stealing from my friend Tracie and stating my word ... fearless ... for 2012.
Her blog helped me see that I already had preconceptions on what it meant to be fearless.
So now, I just have the word ... fearless ... and 2012 will be what it will be, and I will keep repeating the word ... fearless ... and hope the universe helps me see moments when I can apply it as I need it and how I need it.
Fearless
*wow, I'm afraid now that I've put that out there... breathing innnn breathing outttt and hitting publish ... fearless"
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Of Lunch and Song
I've racked my brain to remember school trips. I know I went to the museums and zoos in Chicago, but oddly enough, I can't remember one single detail about the actual places I visited. I know I had a lot of fun. I just know it.
What I do remember is figuring out what to put in the brown lunch bag. Discussions and arguments usually occurred. I heard the usual mom phrases as "that will spoil" and "it will be soggy" to "it will melt!" Oh I did not care. I was going on a T R I P and I had to have L U N C H! PB&J, Fritos, a Hostess Ding Dong or Suzy Q, and a Capri Sun was the usual. I'll be soooo hungry during my T R I P. I neeeeeeed two of each, or I would starve! (*Disclaimer: I always ate most of my lunch before we even got to wherever it was we were going. Well duh!)
I also remember the songs. John Jacob (you're welcome!), the Song That Never Ends (and again!), and my all time favorite, The Other Day I Met a Bear (out in the woods oh way out there). Over and over again. God bless the bus drivers and chaperons.
So these all important T R I P S that the school gave us to expand our minds and be "culturfied" (hey I'm from Indiana) left me with memories of brown bags and silly kid songs and laughter.
Oh yeah, sooooo worth it.
remembeRED -- write a memory of a school trip you took.
http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/2011/06/remembered-school-trip.html
What I do remember is figuring out what to put in the brown lunch bag. Discussions and arguments usually occurred. I heard the usual mom phrases as "that will spoil" and "it will be soggy" to "it will melt!" Oh I did not care. I was going on a T R I P and I had to have L U N C H! PB&J, Fritos, a Hostess Ding Dong or Suzy Q, and a Capri Sun was the usual. I'll be soooo hungry during my T R I P. I neeeeeeed two of each, or I would starve! (*Disclaimer: I always ate most of my lunch before we even got to wherever it was we were going. Well duh!)
I also remember the songs. John Jacob (you're welcome!), the Song That Never Ends (and again!), and my all time favorite, The Other Day I Met a Bear (out in the woods oh way out there). Over and over again. God bless the bus drivers and chaperons.
So these all important T R I P S that the school gave us to expand our minds and be "culturfied" (hey I'm from Indiana) left me with memories of brown bags and silly kid songs and laughter.
Oh yeah, sooooo worth it.
remembeRED -- write a memory of a school trip you took.
http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/2011/06/remembered-school-trip.html
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
A Different Type of Outing
The goal: To create an art piece that I would send in to be displayed in a monument for survivors of childhood abuse http://www.irvingstudios.com/child_abuse_survivor_monument/GiveUsAHand.htm.
The block: To put my survivorness out in the world for many to see would mean EVERYONE would know I was a survivor and I could NEVER hide it again.
Before I created this piece of art and sent in in via snail mail, my world was slightly dull as if I were looking at the world through wax paper. I had flashes of joy and fun, however, I was always hiding who I was and what happened to me.
The art was a simple, a piece of paper with an outline of my hand, colored with markers, and populated with phrases and words that stated what I wanted and who I wanted to be. To this day, I cannot remember all the words I put on that paper (and I wish I had made a copy -- Lesson Learned!).
It took weeks to start the piece and it took weeks to finish it and it took weeks before I could take it to the post office. I sat in the car on a cloudy Saturday for at least 30 minutes with that 8 1/2 x 11 brown envelope with blue ink (yes, I stared at the envelope for a long time) addressed to Canada. I took a deep breath, reminded myself that I am a warrior, and walk up to the door.
My heart was pounding. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My hand shook as I grabbed the door. I walked in and immediately went to the P.O. boxes, pretending I was looking for the box that I didn't own.
I took a deep breath and started a mantra, I can do this .. I can do this .. I can do this. I marched right up to the counter and slapped that 8 1/2 x 11 brown envelope with blue ink addressed to Canada down and practically yelled, "I want to mail this to Canada!" To her credit, the clerk only blinked, but promptly helped me.
There were multiple times I wanted to snatch back that envelope and run out the door. To my credit, I did not. I conquered the fear. I broke the silence and "spoke" my truth.
I effusively thanked the clerk and bounced out the door. If I had been younger and thinner, I would have skipped.
After I let go of that envelope and hiding the secret, I walked outside and stopped in my tracks. What had happened? The sky was so blue. The clouds whiter than white. The wind became delicious against my skin. I was taller. I've never felt so in the world, so connected. I could see everything. Clearly. I was out in the world.
I like this.
RemebeRED -- The first time I created a survivor piece of art and mailed it for display, I became a part of the world.
http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/2011/06/remembered-fill-in-blanks.html
The block: To put my survivorness out in the world for many to see would mean EVERYONE would know I was a survivor and I could NEVER hide it again.
Before I created this piece of art and sent in in via snail mail, my world was slightly dull as if I were looking at the world through wax paper. I had flashes of joy and fun, however, I was always hiding who I was and what happened to me.
The art was a simple, a piece of paper with an outline of my hand, colored with markers, and populated with phrases and words that stated what I wanted and who I wanted to be. To this day, I cannot remember all the words I put on that paper (and I wish I had made a copy -- Lesson Learned!).
It took weeks to start the piece and it took weeks to finish it and it took weeks before I could take it to the post office. I sat in the car on a cloudy Saturday for at least 30 minutes with that 8 1/2 x 11 brown envelope with blue ink (yes, I stared at the envelope for a long time) addressed to Canada. I took a deep breath, reminded myself that I am a warrior, and walk up to the door.
My heart was pounding. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My hand shook as I grabbed the door. I walked in and immediately went to the P.O. boxes, pretending I was looking for the box that I didn't own.
I took a deep breath and started a mantra, I can do this .. I can do this .. I can do this. I marched right up to the counter and slapped that 8 1/2 x 11 brown envelope with blue ink addressed to Canada down and practically yelled, "I want to mail this to Canada!" To her credit, the clerk only blinked, but promptly helped me.
There were multiple times I wanted to snatch back that envelope and run out the door. To my credit, I did not. I conquered the fear. I broke the silence and "spoke" my truth.
I effusively thanked the clerk and bounced out the door. If I had been younger and thinner, I would have skipped.
After I let go of that envelope and hiding the secret, I walked outside and stopped in my tracks. What had happened? The sky was so blue. The clouds whiter than white. The wind became delicious against my skin. I was taller. I've never felt so in the world, so connected. I could see everything. Clearly. I was out in the world.
I like this.
RemebeRED -- The first time I created a survivor piece of art and mailed it for display, I became a part of the world.
http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/2011/06/remembered-fill-in-blanks.html
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Vegetables and Angels
Christmas time, 38 years ago. I was eight, and mom made angel sugar cookies. These were sugar cookies with lovely red and green sprinkles. There were kept in a tin wrapped in wax paper.
I kept sneaking peaks at them knowing a few would soon be mine. I knew they were the best cookies ever made, even though I had yet to have a taste.
Dinner time, and mom also made vegetables. I hate vegetables. There is no red or green sparkly goodness to vegetables.
Dinner time, plus an hour and a half, and I'm still sitting at the table staring at those non-shiny vegetables. I was walked to the bedroom and told: "No dessert because you didn't finish your dinner."
The world ended! The unfairness of life was revealed! How could someone choose veggies over those yummy, perfect angel cookies?!
Even though those cookies were made the day before, I could still smell them and they tortured me. Those cookies! Who would eat them!? Not me. No, not me. Waves of despair pulsed through me.
I heard someone at the door, and I was ready to direct my sugar-starved rage at them. My sister snuck in, shutting the door behind her quietly. She had something in her hand. "Shh!" she says, and then handed me two cookies.
My sister risked life and limb and snuck in those red and green sparkly angel cookies.
That night, 38 years ago, I was visited by two types of angels: One type made of bits of flour and sugar, and one type made by God and sent to me as a sister.
I kept sneaking peaks at them knowing a few would soon be mine. I knew they were the best cookies ever made, even though I had yet to have a taste.
Dinner time, and mom also made vegetables. I hate vegetables. There is no red or green sparkly goodness to vegetables.
Dinner time, plus an hour and a half, and I'm still sitting at the table staring at those non-shiny vegetables. I was walked to the bedroom and told: "No dessert because you didn't finish your dinner."
The world ended! The unfairness of life was revealed! How could someone choose veggies over those yummy, perfect angel cookies?!
Even though those cookies were made the day before, I could still smell them and they tortured me. Those cookies! Who would eat them!? Not me. No, not me. Waves of despair pulsed through me.
I heard someone at the door, and I was ready to direct my sugar-starved rage at them. My sister snuck in, shutting the door behind her quietly. She had something in her hand. "Shh!" she says, and then handed me two cookies.
My sister risked life and limb and snuck in those red and green sparkly angel cookies.
That night, 38 years ago, I was visited by two types of angels: One type made of bits of flour and sugar, and one type made by God and sent to me as a sister.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
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