I M Perfect lady

Category: Examples of an Imperfect woman

  • Resolve who I am.

    It is New Year’s Eve, the day we all sit down and look at the balance sheets of life, pour over our faults and choose one or two that we feel must go, and then declare to everyone we will no longer do those things.

    How many of us take the time to really sit with the affect, the trouble spot and see where it came from, why it was formed?

    What we call bad habits are usually coverings over some pain.

    They are the lids that keep us from feeling the feelings too severe to feel.

    Usually what happens is we just exchange habits, we seldom delve deeply into what lays beneath, to dive below and feel the pain.

    As I approach this New Year, instead of making resolutions to get rid of bad habits, I want to explore beneath the habits.

    The definition of resolution is the process of resolving something.

    The act of answering, solving…

    Perhaps if we looked at the coming year as the year of the answers, we will look at each day differently; we look to be enlightened about our behaviors, instead of running from them.

    Vowing that we will sit down in the middle of our habit and sort through it looking for answers.

    It is my belief that beneath the habit lays our true self.

    My resolution is to resolve who I am.

  • Confines of a Well

    There seems to be two perceptions.

    The Perceptions with choices and the perception of no choices or the perceptions of freedom or the perceptions of limited and no choice.

    And depending upon which land you occupy you will have a life that reflects that.

    I lived in both places. The first being the dark narrow hole of perception that I was frozen in, where I had to do what others wanted of me, where my life was led by the wishes of others, I had no free will of my own.

    We can call it a victim hole, and its perception is very one way, or co-dependent, where the quality of my life depended upon another.

    The perception in that land was very limited and the quality of life was at the mercy of another’s good will.

    It was from that darkness I fell out of onto the land of wide open expanse and freedom, where my strings to others were untied, where I was able to walk freely and express myself freely, where the victim chains that held me in place fell free.

    It was equal to walking out of Plato’s cave or the story in Sogyal Rinpoche’s book The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, about the frog who climbed out of the well to see the ocean.

    It is like your constraints and perceptions shatter into a million fragments, where you now have access to an unlimited choice.

    There is no common ground between the two worlds.

    I feel that I lived in a place where my boxes of choices were not available to me.
    It seems incredible to me now that I didn’t have access to my own box of choices that I waited for someone to tell me what to do.

    Imagine the difference of perceptions to having access to your own choices or not.
    Living, as a prisoner in your own life is pure hell, its living in a dark well and not knowing what freedom exists outside.

    So while I agree perceptions are a choice, it is way hard to phantom that inside the well.

    If you disagree that perceptions are a choice perhaps you best look around where you are living and see who holds your box of choices.

    You will either find the freedom of the ocean or the confines of a well.

  • I Can

    As I look backwards on this year I am happy with the way that I stayed the course in yoga, by not succumbing to the voice that wanted me to give it up.

    Between the voice and the lazy feelings that would sometimes overwhelm me, I stayed the course for the greater balance of the year, and I am proud of that.

    What I intended when I began was to take better care of myself, to do something that would begin a change and to do it for 60 days.

    The sixty days turned into 120, than 180 and then 240, it was then I faltered a bit and began missing a few days.

    Yet even in the last month, I have done more yoga than not.

    Tomorrow is the last day of the year, and the tally stands at 331 days of yoga done, (after I do today’s, which I best get going on soon) and 33 days no yoga.

    I am feeling it was a successful yoga year.

    A year of not listening to the voice and feelings that would have me believe, I can’t.

    Learning to overcome the voice by doing, and changing the tone to I can.

  • Tamper with Reality.

    I was asked after my last blog, if others will think I am crazy, and perhaps they will. However, unless you have lived a life deeply in denial where your head view of life is not what is actually going on, where you body is experiencing one thing and you are telling yourself something totally different, you will not get my post, my blog or my experiences.

    What I feel happened to me was that when I found out my father was a pedophile my body’s feelings made sense, although in my head there was no evidence of it.

    The totally extreme opposites of what I thought life was compared to what it really was was mind blowing.

    It blew all my beliefs, thoughts and views to pieces and I was left with a head that had to relearn how to see reality.

    I taught my head by how my body felt, instead of allowing it access to create a scenario that opposed reality.

    If I sound crazy, well that is okay for I was for 46 years, and it is crazy to go back and discover the way I was formed, how my mind made things up, how it was detached, how it and my body saw life drastically different.

    I feel that the root of all madness or insanity is to live a life where the mind and body are not aligned.

    In cases of child abuse or where the adult says one thing but does another, is where insanity or madness begins.

    Love hurts is an example.
    Relying on someone who repeatedly lets you down.
    Where we are unable to put up boundaries we then make up stories to live with instead.

    So much so, that we live in an alternative reality.

    If at anytime you let your feelings down, by not voicing them, by fooling your self that you don’t feel what you feel, you are dabbling in insanity.

    What I learned most in these 6 years, is that I not only have the right, it is best if I walk hand and hand with my feelings, and my thoughts and beliefs will follow.

    I have learned that by watching actions and feeling the sensations in my body, I can navigate myself in reality and be authentic in words, thoughts, feelings and actions, we all agree.

    Sanity does not have to pretend a feeling doesn’t exist.

    What some call social niceties are close to insane allowances, pretending to pretend not to see/feel/know what you know.

    I again feel that some of what we call ‘Mentally Handicapped’, are actually more sane than most, for they don’t seem to have the flipping switch to pretend.

    They call life as they see it, as do little children, they are not looking to spare another’s feelings; they are just calling it like it is.

    Sparing another’s feelings by making up a lie…just seems odd to me, are we not making up a new reality?

    Anyway, call me crazy I don’t mind, but I am no longer interested in sparing someone’s feelings.

    I spared my father, I didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him unhappy, and look where it led?

    I would rather hurt your feelings than tamper with reality.

  • A Life Review of Feelings

    While in yoga yesterday, I wondered if the body could express itself without a head, is there a way to vent your feelings below the neck?

    It seems to me that the head holds all the valves of release.

    Our tears are shed through our eyes, our mouths speak words, our beliefs and thoughts either match our feelings or deny them, but all the expressions are done above the neck, yet the feelings seem to be below.

    We feel deeply with our heart, our gut has instincts and intuitively knows, we feel ‘something’ deeply in our bones, and the truth of our experiences seems to reside in the torso.

    Yet the head is where we can articulate what the body feels.

    It is like the head needs to tune into the body, open a line, and form a connection.

    When the two are joined as one, we can live a life that is steered by feelings and emotions allowing us to express specifically our needs, wants and desires.

    Living totally in the head leaves you separated from feelings and emotions.

    I am not certain you can release emotions with out a head.

    The vents are in the head as far as I can tell.

    If a body is detached from the head, it just fills up with unexpressed emotions, which grows into rage, rage that explodes and subsides all without ever delving into their formation. I believe the root of disease.

    A head that is detached from the body, is a senseless head.

    A head that is making choices based on whims of others, for it has no roots, nothing to anchor it down, it is not grounded in feelings or emotions connected to your life, it floats a few feet ahead of your body.

    Amazing to witness this, live this way and then get the opportunity to experience the rejoining of head to body, to feel feelings that have long been stuffed down, to go back in a life review of feelings.

  • Joined them back together.

    The way I described this past Christmas was an ugly beautiful one, where inside I was so dark and the outside so light, how mental psyche steers my world, not the decorations on the outside.

    I was clearly shown that no matter how I orchestrated and decorated and baked and made perfect the outside, it had no influence upon my inner world.

    It wasn’t even a blue Christmas it was black.

    Frozen darkness inside…is that called depression?

    Yet it was a moving depression where I was working on the outside to cheer me up inside.

    I always pictured depression as sitting in a stupor, unable to move. Is there a moving depression or a fallacy that if you can create a warm peaceful atmosphere you will have the same inside?

    What I think I thought, was that if you were dark inside you could change it up on the outside to help alleviate the feelings, yet what needs to happen is that you have to go deeper into the feelings, leaving the outside alone.

    When I started to spiral into darker feelings, I kept
    cleaning, instead I should have stopped and sat with my feelings.

    Writing and exploring why I felt the way I felt.

    I wonder if depression is repressed feelings, if denying them and focusing on changing the environment you live in, instead of investigating your feelings and relationships is the cause?

    What I feel is I was given a real life experience, situations and feelings that represented the flavor of my childhood, and then a dream to show where the seed was planted, how my mental psyche was developed.

    A main piece of the puzzle was cleared up for me.

    My father was happy and desiring me.
    And I was happy to please him.

    The sheer terror wasn’t there, perhaps too young to know…in my mind no terror.
    And my head seemed detached from my body.

    My body and head separated.
    Hence, no memory in my head, but my body held on tight to the trauma.

    I am filled with admiration for the little girl who so bravely withstood such trauma, who did her best to please in the most horrific of circumstances, all she wanted was her daddy to be happy.

    When it is over, and the child seems ‘unaffected’ it is because they no longer are one.

    The mind and the body separated.

    The body holds the truth while the mind was elsewhere.

    Bikram Yoga is about bringing the mind back to the body.

    In the 360 days that have passed, I have missed 32 days, days in which I was working so hard to reconnect my head to the rest of my body.

    To live as mind body and soul.

    Yoga is the yoke that joined them back together.

  • Where I stopped caring for me.

    As I read back a few days in my blog, I saw where the trimmings had a hold of me and almost ruined Christmas, and then the actions and expectations did the job the trimmings had started.

    It is like negative energy travels from item to person to thing, to any place in my world to latch on, and if I am not aware where my power is, it slips in and takes over.

    What I believe happens as well, as the busier you are the more unaware you become, so busy doing you forget to be.

    My Christmases of past were very busy doings, they wore me out to the last drop of energy, it was what I thought was needed to make a great Christmas to do over and beyond what you normally do.

    To put your self into trimming the house, oodles of gifts, baking, card sending, wrapping your self up into a dozen places until there is no you left.

    Exhausted and depleted.

    A manic Christmas cheer.

    Taking the season of giving into a manic state of doing and overdoing and then doing yet more.

    This holiday season is a playground for those of us who have ‘responsibility addictions’ who feel we carry the power to make others happy. It is like a drugstore of places for us to get our hits.

    There should be a warning label on Christmas.

    “Be careful not to give your self away.”

    I had a very odd dream on Christmas Eve, well actually very early Christmas morning, as I awoke from it, it left me knowing its content was a metaphor for how I lived my life.

    It isn’t a nice dream, but I will state it here anyway.

    I became aware I was in the back of a station wagon, face down, naked from the waist down, I was a young girl and I was watching a man approaching the side of the car, the windows are open and I hear him say my maiden name. In the middle seats are young kids, and the feeling I have is that I will offer my body to him to spare them. He climbs on my back and does his thing. I don’t feel anything, except that I am making him happy.

    When I awoke from this dream it seemed like a complete metaphor for my life.

    How I will be a whore for another and I will do so to spare another pain, I will abuse my body for the sake of others.

    It stayed with me this ugly dream on Christmas day.

    Its contents a visual of how I navigated life in co-dependency, how I will use my body in two ways for the pleasure of others and to spare pain for the innocent, to protect them I will abuse to my body.

    How others use my body was clearly displayed with my approval and willingness.

    Perhaps I needed that shocking dream to wake me up to how I get lost in another’s life.

    And what was so telling was the age of this young girl, as I caught sight of her in the rearview mirror, very blonde hair and young body, her flat chest, being strong beyond her years, willing to suffer for another.

    Courageously selflessly boldly the sacrificial lamb.

    Perhaps I don’t have images of my child abuse, but this is as close as it gets.

    And what I feel was that I truly didn’t focus on his deed and my pain, but his happiness and who I spared.

    What began at the moment of abuse was the fragmentation of living life for self.

    It is there my responsibility gene was developed and pruned, where I became the pleaser and the saver.

    Where I stopped caring for me.

  • Against my Mind.

    What an odd Christmas I had, it was almost like an out of body experience, certainly out of control, where Christmas joy seemed to mock me outside, yet inside lay a storm of hurt, anger, sorrow, confusion, resentment, more confusion a mess of wires all tangled up with beauty everywhere.

    It is odd to be so riled up inside and the outside appearing picture perfect.

    Looking inside our home last night, you would see a beautiful family and a wonderful Christmas scene; the only dark cloud was fuming around me.

    Today I didn’t know how my day would go, if I would be able to get out from under the cloud, if the fog would leave so I could sit in peace.

    Sit and just breathe in the day.

    My family watched me cautiously, wary and on tippy toes and eggshells, as I did my self.

    Wondering at my own sense of mental balance.

    This mental dysfunction of co-dependency can strike at any time, a hook is caught upon another’s action and blame and resentment ensue.

    If I could know that a snag was coming, I could head it off at the pass, but I am surprised as the ones I am snagged onto, unconsciously a lesson is arriving unbeknownst to me.

    I stay hooked as long as I blame the other, the only way I can work my way free is to see where my responsibility and actions led to the hookup.

    My freedom comes when I can stay aware in the midst of the snag and wise enough to know it isn’t all their fault, that it takes two to tangle.

    And what I usually find, is that they are doing their thing and I hop on wanting, wishing, dreaming that they will drop their life to satisfy mine.

    Oddly enough while it may have been the worst Christmas Eve ever, it also is a template to model the rest by, using it to design free Christmas activities in the future.

    Today, as the dinner preps were needed, I asked.

    I asked for help.
    I asked for specifics.
    I asked and it was met with no resistance, no complaints.

    Now this can’t be a real test, for they were so not wanting a Johnny raincloud on Christmas day or at the dinner table.

    My tone was different, the manic need was gone, there seemed to be a team spirit, a tone of many helping hands.

    Again, I know that they were coming, that we were coming off of a bad experience, where my manic mood stole Christmas joy, so I can’t be sure the atmosphere changed permanently, but a change was from deep dark fear to neutral.

    I will not say I was filled with joy or filled with gratitude or love or peace, but I was out of the depths of hell.

    Even in neutral the rest could feel their own joy, I wasn’t stealing their peace.

    How awful to witness the affects one dark rain cloud can have on a party, and to be it.

    It’s like the party planner; the event coordinator creates this wonderful display, great food, and then sits and stews in the midst like a bad stench spreading it everywhere.

    Like Dr. Jill Bolte says, “you are responsible for the energy you bring into the room.”

    Yet I felt so out of control.

    What I can do next time is just state how out of control, how angry, hurt, confused, resentful I am and it is best that I be excused.

    Taking my dark insides with me.

    Christmas for me was seeing the damage that darkness of co-dependency can do, how it changes the feelings of the others in the room, how it takes out joy.

    It is scary that I still have episodes of this.

    Yet I feel that each time I learn more about myself and hopefully be wiser next time.

    It left us all happy with neutral, no over joyful or dreaded darkness, just an idle.

    My mental dysfunctional co-dependency bouts start with a small item and pick up speed and volume if left unchecked, its almost like I got drunk on negative energy.

    Today I felt hung over and depleted from being strung so tight my head and jaw in a vice, muscles taunt, breath shallow, vision clouded.

    Braced to fight my misconstrued expectations to the death, while wanting desperately to be free and relaxed and calm and accepting, bending to the change in plans.

    Instead I put support beams of thoughts around the expectations built upon nothing.

    Like fluff on a cloud.

    Nothing supporting nothing.

    Mental thoughts being planned by a mental mind.

    The left side of my head is bruised, my jaw in pain, my left neck and shoulder ache, all a stiff from my struggle with reality.

    What I want most is to relax, to breathe, and to process this episode to my DNA.

    What I caught a few hour glimpse of is my old life, a spirit of Christmas pasts.

    My life review brought to life in reality.
    I had just been thinking a few weeks ago, that our home hasn’t had me go ‘crazy’ in a long while, and there I was in full living color, out of reality, crazy.

    Tonight I am grateful that I visit this state now, but don’t live there full time.

    How incredibly hard that life is.
    How separated, how desolate, how fearful, how lonely…

    What I think now is that this mental dysfunctional co-dependency, is something to manage, never cured.

    That it can sneak in and steal my peace at any time, that the more I set the stage, by voicing my concerns, needs, desires, the less opportunity it has to grab on and hijack my life.

    My antidote is flexibility and freedom.
    Theirs and mine, against my mind.

  • Keep My Merry Inside.

    My expectations got the best of me, my innocent belief and assumptions had me sitting in a pile of resentment, a pile I had made myself.

    My greatest failings are to ask questions to see how their plans will affect mine. It is all the things unsaid that clutter up the moment of now, and perhaps my wanting to be available.

    So accommodating for them, that I forget to remember doing what I need for me.

    Christmas Eve day started out fine, talking to one of my friends, making last minute gifts with my daughter, tossing packages at the post office for a few hours and then coming home to do my last minute baking.

    Everyone but one daughter with a bad cold was home, the rest had gone to a party I no longer attended. I was okay with them going, or so I thought.

    I guess I wanted them to put in an appearance, to make a quick stop by, and then come home.

    Instead I got the quick stop by.

    My afternoon was spent baking and cleaning, in hopes that they would be home soon to help. As the hours continued to click by, the resentment began to pile up.

    By the time we all were together again, I was beat and filled with the absence of Christmas spirit.

    I tried to sort out what I was most angry at, and knowing anger was hurt, what I was so hurt about.

    The list seemed long.

    The list of things I failed to do for myself.
    I failed to ask if we were going to meet as a family on Christmas eve and what time to expect them all home.

    Failed to elicit help with the clothes and cleaning.

    Failure to prepare for a party of one and to have something special for me to do while they were gone.

    Failure to put up boundaries and limits as to what I will do and when.

    What I didn’t want to happen happened.

    I didn’t want to spend my Christmas Eve doing work, to have the day slip by without me feeling the joys of Christmas, and it did.

    It was like the Christmas train had left the station and I was running behind trying to catch up, and by the time I caught it was too tired to enjoy.

    The rest of my family, except for my daughter who wasn’t feeling well, had a nice day. They did what they wanted and were happy.

    I on the other hand was miserable.

    Miserable tossed in the wake of their choices.

    My failure to take control of my world left me being tossed around behind theirs; I just couldn’t get out of their wake.

    What I want the least is to be an obligation, and even worse to be left out and forgotten, to be at the end of the list.

    And yet I do it to myself time and time again.

    So busy doing and being there for others that time slips by with me unnoticed.

    The resentment and hurt feelings was my lack of care for me.

    Taking care to sit with my feelings.
    Stopping the doing when I am tired and honoring my body.

    Neglecting to plan something special for me.

    A Christmas eve to remember, where I sat drained and empty of me.

    Pouring myself out and then resenting them.

    This has been my common theme in life.

    Waiting for them to say, ‘enough’ instead of saying it myself.

    Inside I must feel inadequate that I keep giving and giving and giving, to fill up the hole inside.

    Wouldn’t have it been better for them to have a full mom and an empty Christmas list? To have me sitting there full of myself, instead of being drained, to have me happy instead of prune tarts, a clean house, baked bread, clothes done.

    Sitting like a beaten woman, beaten by her own demands, her own hands, her own expectations.

    Today, Christmas Morning, I will watch that I don’t abuse me.

    And keep my Merry inside.

  • The Limits of My Self.

    What I am learning as I go along, is that there are people I will agree with, people I will be drawn to, and others that will stir up my strong held beliefs, it seems that the ones that frustrate us the most or put off the highest charge within us, are carrying a part of us that we need to bring back in.

    In my experience those got the highest reaction from carried a message I needed to solve.

    It seems we are on a mystery tour, where we are discovering new exciting things along the way. In the darkest hours wonderful insights arrive, and strange dialogues open us up to a new way of thinking.

    I feel braver now to explore the reaches of humanity instead of sitting frozen in fear that my long held beliefs will be damaged.

    Or maybe that I will be destroyed hearing a thought or idea that is different than me…

    We never know who we will meet, what words will be spoken that is the key to our next phase in life.

    I used to fear living and fear dying, now I am trying to love living and love that I will die, and in between I get to explore the limits of my self.