Tag Archive | beauty

Welcome…

outputto my world! Everything I need, that I have always wanted has always been within my reach. I just didn’t want to believe I could accomplish great things. Why is that? Why do I cast doubts? Why do you? why does anyone for that matter. Why is it easier to accept that someone else will do better, be better?

I wanted to have more weight off by now, instead I am maintaining. I am not bored with my lifestyle change, I am just drained. The soggy Spring and this new interesting journey the medical professionals like to call Menopause has taken me down a road I don’t get much happiness traveling along. I am trying not to give into my own bad self. I like where I am at this moment, on this particular stretch of the journey. I am finding out new and scary things about myself. Like, how I can twist a mood swing in just the right direction causing the airflow to change course and send a cool breeze along regions of my body that have secretly burst into flames (hot flash) ! Ok, maybe not but I have been surprised on more than one occasion by the sudden need to cry over a pet food commercial or the unexpected joy brought on by a silly meme on one of my social media sites from a few days previous. Things I have never entertained ideas of doing I am now making elaborate plans for. Why is that? Because life demands that you take part in it! The ride is intense and doesn’t last nearly long enough.

I guess everyone’s mid life crisis is a work of art.  Life is really a short journey we pack inappropriately for. Never pack sandals to go to a ski resort or wear a parka to the beach. What does that even mean? For me, living in the moment is a great idea but it lacks purpose. I need a focal point, a goal. At the end of my road I want people to remember me as a vibrant, beautiful force of nature who accomplished great things because I refused to give up. I have more things to do, see, dream, cry over and finish. I know tomorrow the scale will be less kind but I am ok with that. I have had a rough week so I paid less attention to WWs and more to myself and my well being.

Never Give UP On The Person You Are Meant To Be

Not Just Another Day…

…At The Beach

Every child’s beach playset comes with the same equipment. A sand pail, a sieve, a spade, a rake, a watering can.  Maybe there will be a few cutsie shapes to make molds with. pails My favorite thing in the world when I was a kid, playing in the sand on a beach. Sun on my back, the waves slapping the shoreline. I liked shifting the sand better than anything. I used to like to pretend I was sieving for gold. I miss the days when everything felt new and magical. It is true that youth is wasted on the young. I am just now beginning to understand how blessed I have been. I miss the innocence and  wonder of youth, that nervous excitement about the unknown:  the first crush of love, the first time a boy asks you out, the first kiss that follows…

I am just trying to figure out when my firsts? turned into my bucket list! Did it happen when my scales tipped more in favor of what has been left undone or have I come to learn that life is in the business of living instead of making plans to participate? Or is it truly an age thing? and is it more acceptable to say something is on your bucket list instead of owning up to a FIRST. There’s a first time for everything yet a bucket list item can be revisited as many times as warranted.

I find myself somewhere I have never been before yet it is not a first nor does it belong on a bucket list. I am comfortable. I have found my groove just like Stella. I have had glimpses of its beauty before but I felt unworthy to stay. I am enjoying being me. No flashing lights, no big signs, no sales pressure!  Just me, the way I am! Come summer I will be hitting a beach, bringing my gear and sieving some sand. Who knows what kind of treasure I might find in the day!

Be IN Your Moments!

The Eye of the Beholder

True beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I was brushing my teeth. My face looking back at my own amazement over the realization that my face looks leaner. Gone are the full cheeks and double chins. I can’t help myself, I break into a full on smile nearly blinding myself with my own pearly whites! A huge NSV! I finally am noticing that all of my hard work is paying off.

There I am right where I left me! I knew I was somewhere close by. This is the version of myself that I feel like on the inside. The beauty matching on both sides. I feel like I  will accomplish anything I put my mind too. It is a wonderful feeling. I forgot how awesome being happy with myself felt. I have felt so beaten by life for so long that I forgot how happy felt. I am no fool, well, I try not to be. I know that happy is a fickle bitch and I should never completely trust that she will stick around but for right now I love her.

I am sitting in my office trying to get this to post and not fall asleep while typing. I am freezing, a side effect from the weight loss, and I have a headache. Holiday season has always been tough for me but I am determined not to eat my way through them this year. I am donating all of the clothes that I am shrinking out of to charity. I could store them in my closet, so I will have something to wear for when I “give up”, but I refuse to undermine my best efforts.  This time I will not give up; this time I will follow through. I will finish the entire course not just the front nine.

Everyday…I try to do better than the day before. I try to learn something new.  I try to remember to be thankful for one small thing.  I try to gently remind myself that I am made of the right stuff, that I deserve to know self acceptance. I talk to myself a lot! Thank God this time around I am actually listening = ) I am beautiful. I am strong. I can do this and I will.

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To Be

 

Mirror, mirror…

…on my wall.  I have had quite a few things on my mind this week. Thoughts that randomly invade my sleep, thoughts that nag at me in the check out line at the grocery store, questions that come to me when I am mid-conversation with someone. I have spent a lot of time reflecting about where I’ve been, how far I have come, and what is next for me on this adventure. I try to face my fears with humor, determination, and a good anxiety med now and then  o-O .  Last week I told you about my need for new bras. I was nervous about going. I  talked to myself from the time I left my morning meeting until late the next afternoon before I bravely ripped off the Band-Aid of fear, plunging headlong into the experience. You know what? It wasn’t as bad as I remembered; maybe I have changed,opened myself up to a new way of being myself. I am down both a cup size and a band size, Yeah!!!!  =  )   =  )  =  )

It is not just my body that is different. I feel different. Happy in a way I have not been happy in a long time. I noticed for the first time this week that my pace while I walk is quicker. I am not so out of breath any more. My feet don’t hurt.  I feel more confident in my ability to choose the right things for myself. I have enough energy to last through my workday and still have enough reserves left to go shopping or take an evening walk or enjoy extra curricular activities{{wink, wink}}. No nap needed =  ) I know there is more work to be done. I just thought I would take a moment to rest, appreciate the wonders I have seen before I continue the climb.

I look in the mirror. I see my smiling face. There is a feeling a self-worth. I am becoming the woman I want to be. Once upon a time I couldn’t see through my tears. I missed the beauty that was right in front of ME! The beauty (inner) has always been there; I just forgot. Life pushed me hard. I lost my balance. I fell down. I thought I would never be better. I got to a point where I was tired of feeling badly about who I was, who I was allowing myself to be.  I stood up to myself and took control. It has been tough on me to accept that my normal means being ever mindful about my mouthfuls; but, I am a big girl and I am learning to adult. I got this. I am doing this. I own this.

 

re·flec·tion(rĭ-flĕk′shən)n

1.The act of reflecting or the state of being reflected.2. Something, such as light, radiant heat, sound, or an image, that is reflected.3.a. Serious thinking or careful consideration: engaged in reflection on the problem. b. A thought or an opinion resulting from such thinking or consideration: wrote down her reflections.4. An indirect expression of censure or discredit: a reflection on his integrity.5. A manifestation or result: Her achievements are a reflection of her courage.

Never give up on the person you are meant to be.

Once Upon a Time…

when I still believed in magic.

It is Christmas time at my house or should I say apartment? I am very young probably between four and six years old. I am still too young to understand the nuances that come with reality and make believe. I am more than content to take “make believe” at face value and buy it all; hook, line and sinker as Gospel truth. I mean what four or five year old wouldn’t? Santa wouldn’t stand a chance without plausible deniability.

As December ticks off its days my imagination soars. If we have no fireplace how is Santa supposed to get in? Will he bring my “Kenner Give-A-Show Projector” and my baby dolls and popcorn balls? I try to be a good girl and do as I am told. At night my mother plugs in our tree, as I wait for sleep to close my weary eyes I watch the ceiling and the patterns the blinking lights make with the tree. I am happy; my tiny heart filled with joy. I am safe and loved and well cared for. My faith in the intangible magic of Christmas unshakeable.

Sometimes at night if I am restless my mother comes in and warns me that the footsteps I hear faintly above my head belong to one of Santa’s helpers sent to spy on little children. I gasp and try with my grandest of effort to be still. I am too young to see my mother’s mental illness or to know my dad works long hours and odd jobs just to put food on the table. As I look into my mother’s face I see her beauty, her eyes filled with love for us. I see my dad handsome and strong. They are everything to me and my sisters. I still don’t know how Santa got in but he always did. I got all of things I ever wanted. Clothes, boots underwear, art supplies, LPs, cameras, watches, basketballs, dolls, games, oranges, sweets, popcorn balls, silver half dollars, PJs, sleeping bags…

We had many Christmases together as a family. Some were over the top grand, others not so much. We had aunts, uncles and family friends, they were more like family than friends, who chipped in and helped my parents to make Christmas magical. As a child I never saw that part of the people in my life, I just believed everything would be OK. I was even fortunate enough to have a godmother( a fairy godmother; well, to me anyway ). Every Christmas she would bring a special gift just for me.

This is for my parents June and Roger and to everyone I could think to add : Terry, John, Veda, Fran, Charlie, Meredith, Maryann and Roni, Dolly, Mary, Edgar, Cecile, Nap, Bobby, Monica, Sophie Smith, Cleo…

I wrote this to say thank you to all of the people in my life for always being there for me even when I didn’t see.
Thanks for all the magic you enriched my life with. Love is the greatest gift.

Happiest of Holidays

Sleeping Beauty?

I am asleep but fitfully. I am running away from myself in this dream. I keep running into you. What are you trying to tell me? I roll around under my covers, semi awake mumbling to myself. I sit up; glance over at the clock, its blaring light tells me it is 3:02 in the morning. I step out of bed my mind in a half fog. I maneuver my way to the bathroom careful not to trip over my cat. I know she is lurking there somewhere in the dark. As I sit on my throne she pads in, rubs her body against my legs, her purr loud and reassuring. I reach my hand down, she glides her soft warm cheek across my fingertips. I give her a quick scratch under her chin. I hear her pad away into the kitchen. She will grab a few quick bites from her supper dish, knowing that all is well. She can let her guard down even if it just for a few minutes. I try not to focus my thinking at 3:02 in the morning while I am peeing. I DO NOT want to be awake at this hour. I want to alight on the wings of Sleep and let her take me through the night peacefully, gaining what rest has escaped me all week.

Everyone experiences a heavy day now and then. A day filled with anger or disappointment or uncertainty. I find whenever I am in the midst of a heavy day or an argument with myself about a situation I dream vivid solution dreams. My way of trying to achieve peace with myself. Sometimes it works. I wake up feeling better about life in general. Sometimes it doesn’t work. I awake at an unholy hour of the night more distressed than when I went to sleep. There is a place in my soul (the Palace of Grudge) where I harbor all of my misgivings, my loathing, my greed. Occasionally this spot gets irritated by the greater parts of my soul, you know what I am talking about; THE YOU, the better version of yourself. The one that is who you really are. Kind, gentle, loving. This part of my soul will only put up with me being an ass for so long then all hell breaks out. It is then in the wee hours of the morning when I should be sleeping my best that she strikes.

Conscience is a good being. She tries gently to remind me of the path I should be on whenever I cross over to the path of destruction. She stays glued to my side throwing out her guiding ways. I am just stubborn. I often choose the tougher path from which to learn my life lessons. I am lucky that Conscience is well meaning and kind, otherwise I would be screwed. She is always there. She always knows what to do in a tough situation. She doesn’t like to be ignored. She is overjoyed and giddy when she wins the day.

Lately, Conscience has been on my ass about an issue I have ignored for a long time. The real problem is there is no easy solution to the problem as it lies. Therefore I sometimes lose sleep while my opposing viewpoints fight for the win. I could be the “better” me and try to have a chat with the source of my angst. I could row the boat closer to the dock, but just like the gingerbread man on the wolf’s back I am leery about trusting. I think I am smarter than that wolf. Sometimes the best way not to get bitten is to stay away from the mouth. Poor Gingy, could have lived and ran another day if he had just chosen a different path.

I am sorry Conscience but this time I choose not to follow your pleading ways. Stay ever vigilant = ) I appreciate all that you have helped me to accomplish. I am sure I will be hearing from you again; soon.

Love,
Beauty

To live is to learn

To live is to learn

(who likes sleeping)