I M Perfect lady

Tag: self

  • Birthing the New Me.

    “How often in life we complete a task that was beyond the capability of the person we were when we started it.” ~Robert Brault

    This paragraph sums up how it is that I began my journey to find myself, in a state of total mentalness, upside down and backwards, emotionally and mentally in need of something bigger than I.

    I recall early on in my writing, when I was driven to paper for my head couldn’t hold the juxtaposition between what my old beliefs wanted me to do, and the new emerging me challenged, how incredible inept I was at being me.

    Two drastically different approaches to life, one driven by the outside the other by the inside.

    The new emerging inside me seemed to have this amazing and tantalzing connection that was beyond anything I had ever experienced, its orchestration would leave me speechless and totally supported.

    No matter the most dire of situations, I found humor and incredulousness at the audacity it expressed to bring me awareness at just how off base I had lived my life.

    The condition of my old self was unstable at best, blind and totally caught in a web of religious and family restrictions, tied down and gagged.

    There is no way in hell, this girl should have been able to extricate her self from that old life with no self esteem and self worth. She had nothing within her to guide her, yet she set out anyway, poorly packed, no destination, alone on a trail she had no clue where it was leading, and if that new person would be someone she would even like.

    I am not certain how far into this journey I am, or who I will be when it is all said and done, but I am totally amazed that someone like me has gotten this far.

    It is indeed by the Grace of God, go I.

    What is so thrilling to me is that the person I started out as and who I am today don’t even resemble each other.

    One was lost in the darkness without awareness.
    The other became aware of the darkness.
    “I was blind, but now I see.”

    It is like heading out blind for a destination unknown and finding it. Who is more amazed than me? Oh my God, if you only knew how big a task this has been, to tear your life apart while you are living it.

    And I am not done, my journey isn’t over, and actually it feels as if I have just begun.

    As my friend said, “it is like having a life review while alive…”

    It is like watching the old me die while a new me is being born, or the old me birthing the new me.

  • Thank you.

    As I sit here on Thanksgiving morning, I look back at this year and find so many moments of gratitude, it seems I had a year full.

    My moments of gratitude are interrupted with moments of sheer pain, frustration, sorrow, confusion and tangled thoughts; it is only when I truly see the whole picture that I am overwhelmed with gratitude, knowing I was spared.

    Spared a lifetime stuck in that thought pattern, or held prisoner by that belief, to be forever at the mercy of another, while never seeing me.

    It isn’t so much that they didn’t see me, but I didn’t see me.

    Seeing and feeling me, learning how to respond that is respectful of me, what honors my soul, bringing forth a new version of me, one that is authentic and uniquely me, one that brings me to life.

    Gratitude of such magnitude, there isn’t a word that adequately expresses this freedom; it is like breathing or not breathing, love or fear, living or being dead in your life.

    To not be dead in my life is beyond what words can hold, to be alive in each moment, aware that I am connected to the Universe, that there are no mistakes, just opportunities to expand further and further, that even the darkest of the darkest moments are bringing me back to myself.

    The Universe only wants the grandest version of me; it doesn’t want a replica of someone else’s dreams.

    This past year I have been shown all the places I was still stuck, lost in the dark, and each time I become aware, I bring peace in to me.

    In peace I am overwhelmed in gratitude.

    I am thankful on this Thanksgiving Day for all the moments of pain, the untangled thoughts, the dark stuck places, and sorrow of what isn’t, for they all came bearing gifts.

    They all delivered a part of me that wasn’t free.

    Hell doesn’t seem like hell when it comes bearing gifts.

    I am grateful for my pain and for my suffering, for it was grieving the loss of me.

    It was telling me where I wasn’t present.

    In the darkness I mourned the loss of me.

    It was in the dark that I found me.

    On this Thanksgiving day, I thank you.

  • Window in Self Love

    Sitting here this morning with a visual of a scorecard and its shocking totals are prompting me to shut a door, close a window, and separate myself from those racking up the score.

    It wouldn’t be so bad if the game was close to a tie but the numbers in the Perpetrator column are 100 and the Little Girls Zero.

    This game started with my parents and continues on to the second generation, they have taken over the scorecard and adding their marks.

    Each of us carries our own scorecard and then a collective one for those we travel with, and we write upon who we are by where our hash marks go.

    Our actions are our hash marks, no words are needed, its an actions only game of life.

    I had 40 years of filling the column up with support for the Perp and his wife, I worked, lifted, carried, toiled, struggled, adding to their columns.

    They had my full undying support, my confidence, my faith, and what I called love back then…they had all of me, and I had zero.

    Zero was all I felt and all I was worth.

    My only worth came from filling up another’s column.

    It was up to me to build them up, cheer them up, help them up, make them up, hold them up, Anything to keep them from falling down.

    I was worth something If I could keep them from falling down. Like a juggler of bad behaviors, I kept trying harder the more they fell down.

    Sadly all the beefing up of their columns couldn’t make them into what I needed them to be, and in the end they fell exactly as they were, nothing changed.

    We just can’t know that we are not our brother’s keeper, we can’t make or break their lives by our actions, our actions and our scorecard is our life.

    Each of us accumulates scores by what we do.

    My actions have drastically changed, I no longer lift a finger to add anything or take away anything from another’s scorecard, I only make marks on my own.

    Don’t worry folks, I know what you feel about me, I know the sharp edges of self righteous labels you are sticking on me, the tags of uncaring, cold, heartless, mental, unstable, distant, sickening, all the names float towards me when we communicate, I get it, I receive fully your intentions and your feelings, and this is why I am shutting the window, closing the door, for I am not willing to take it anymore.

    You won, the game is over.
    I quit.

    You can’t keep racking up the scores against me If I am no longer in the game…

    My wellness, healing, happiness, peace, love and joy falter as each time I feel these energies coming towards me, it is self-abuse to keep the window open.

    I shut the window in self love.

  • Reposting….Naked and Imperfect.

    Who puts Perfect in us? What makes us Perfect? Who are the Perfect maker people, where do we find them and how does it work?
    And how do we know we need Perfect, how do we know we are missing Perfect?

    It seems that all are seeking Perfect? It seems that it is the prize and I want to know where is the Perfect store, the place where all Perfect is stored, I want to fill up on Perfect, for without it seems we are doomed for failure, failure without Perfect.

    Perfect, boy for such a nice word, it sure causes a hell of a lot of grief, we lose ourselves for it, we cry for it, we die for it, we kill for it, we lie for it, we steal for it, my God, it seems to be a motive for a life of hell.

    And I am not swearing just to be dramatic, I literally mean hell, if you are not Perfect you are in hell. And if you let go of that word, Heaven!
    That now seems mental, and upside down and backwards, for all our lives ever since were little, Perfect was what we wanted.

    Perfect baby, Perfect girl, Perfect mom, Perfect wife, Perfect friend, million and one Perfects! Until Perfect stands before us, always, and not just sometimes, like we can’t see us for the forest of perfects.

    How in the world have we gotten lost behind perfects? Lost behind Perfects, so we are there, just that Perfect is standing in the way?
    Who put it there? How long has it been standing there? And why do we want to hide behind Perfects? Why?

    We hide ourselves behind Perfect, so Perfect is a mask?
    The mask is Perfect? That is the mask? We pretend to be Perfect?
    That doesn’t seem right, but true.

    WE hide behind the Mask of Perfect…so Perfect is not real?
    Perfect is not real? How in the world did we go seeking something that is not real? Not real?

    So what is real? If the mask is pretend, fake, untrue, and it’s name is Perfect, than what does that make us behind the mask of Perfect?
    Just us. Just us being ourselves, what is wrong with ourselves?
    Who told us we could not be ourselves?
    Who wanted us to be different and why?
    Where did this all start, what is wrong with being you?

    Somewhere along the way, we had to hide behind the mask of Perfect, somewhere we had to pretend. Someone didn’t like us as we were, why? What happened that they didn’t want to see?

    It is shocking even as I write this to see that Perfection is a screen to hide behind! I knew I was ok as an imperfect person, but now I am way way way ok!

    For now I know that my mask is no longer needed, for I am ok without it. I stand alone, mask-less and proud.

    Our El Camino has a window sticker “Ride Naked” and I loved that saying from the beginning and now I know what it truly means, ride without a mask! And get this, my license plate says UBEEU, ride naked and you be you….

    When my parent’s masks fell, so did my world, for I was in love with their perfections, not the person behind. Imagine I was in love with a mask. A mask, and I wanted this mask to change, to do this and do that and to love me back. Oh my Goodness this is good.

    No wonder I made sense when their mask fell, for I never fit the mask! My mask.

    A mask of Perfection….that will stay with me awhile.

    Standing here naked and imperfect!

  • Letting go of Perfection

    Courage lies within us in a very deep place, buried behind the walls of fear of imperfection, coated in false ideals and fantasies that are impossible to attain, courage waits for us to uncover it.

    Peeling back the layers and layers of deceit we have of ourselves, piles of unrealistic desires and impossibilities, a mound of what I am not.

    Courage comes when we are able to stand alone in being who we are right now without improvements, without the completion of dreams, minus the goal, but instead standing right here right now, completed up to this point.

    With no excuses, no reasons, just as I am.

    The courage it takes to drop all the idealized versions of your self and just be okay with the raw deal, the real complete version of you, up to this point.

    For some reason we continue to not look at what we are, but instead of what we are trying to become.

    While we focus on where we are going we miss this step in the creative process, this step called today.

    I have no idea of what my final creation of me will be, but I do know who I am today.
    I know where I walked, how I walked and sometimes even why, I don’t know where I will step, but I know that each step will be me.

    It takes courage to be truthfully half done, authentically complete, and yet fully perfect as you are right now.

    Am I whole?
    Am I normal?
    Am I perfect?
    Am I sick, mental, imperfect?

    Whose measuring stick am I using?

    My intention is to be with myself as I walk forward in my life, not a fraction more perfect than I am right now, and not a snippet less.

    It takes courage to accept yourself as you are today, to toss aside the blueprints and be complete now, without a new version in mind, but to be a success thus far.

    Courage is letting go of perfection.

  • Behave my way into love.

    What I didn’t know about self love is that it wasn’t a word in the head,
    a thought in the mind or even a feeling, but rather Actions.

    The actions you have towards yourself, not how you appear in public, how you walk,
    talk or behave, but rather is is the obvious and the not so obvious.

    Self love is the food you eat, to the way you move your body, to the places you bring it, to the people you subject it to, all comprise the love you have of your self.

    Somehow I think I thought, it was a saying in my head.
    Perhaps the absence of saying, “I hate myself.”

    Yet my self hatred was exposed for all the world to see.

    It was in the food I ate and how much.
    It was in the way I didn’t exercise or even take my body out in the fresh air.
    It was in the silence instead of speaking up, hidden in the yes when I wanted to say no.

    All in all the evidence of self hatred lay literally everywhere, and no amount of positive affirmations planted on the pile of self neglect would change a thing.

    I had to act differently.

    I had to behave my way into love.

  • Love of Self

    A good friend responded to my post on Sprouting Self Hatred, with a great visual, a thought that I could picture.

    “That picture is: yoga being poured as if out of a fancy vessel and killing the sprouting self hatred–over and over again. This yoga is like emotional Round-up!!!! What a concept. There is “out of body Beth” pouring Yoga on self- hatred.”

    She is absolutely right, doing yoga has been killing me softly, the me that was birthed in Self Hatred.

    Taking all the false beliefs and destroying them, eliminating the source of low self-esteem, little by little, pose by pose, I have been wrestling with hatred of self.

    What a battle.

    Sometimes it took Herculean energy to get me off the couch, out of bed, and on to the mat.

    Bringing my old self to do yoga, an old self that didn’t have any energy to love me, to care for me, it was that person that arrived on the mat.

    And each time I successfully accomplished another day of yoga, the hating me weakened and the Loving Me was strengthened.

    The stronger love I have of self, the stronger I can love.

    Jane Fonda yesterday was speaking to Oprah and she was talking about falling in love, how it is best to stand strong in love.

    I am learning to stand strong in love of self.

  • Sprouting Self Hatred

    As I headed to my room to do yoga with my belly unsettled, images of the laughing sisters, my demeanor glum, I wondered how yoga would be.

    The standing poses went by without a hitch, but as I lay on the floor, my focus went into the belly.

    What was going on?
    What was I feeling?
    Is the gut where you feel?

    The thought came in, “I hate your guts”…and then I thought of how in the last few weeks, while doing yoga, I have been concentrating on my belly, my hernia that has been there for a long time, and I have been mentally pulling my guts back in.

    Whether it will work or not, my focus has been on my belly.

    “I hate your guts”…I thought was coming from my sisters, that I was feeling their negative energy coming in to me.

    As I lay there rubbing my belly, asking it what it was up, what was all this about?

    Tears flowing, caressing my belly, breathing, missing poses, it finally occurred to me, “I hate My Guts!”

    My hating of my self has been with me a long long time; in fact my guts have been trying to escape!

    I hate my self for no longer being perfect, I felt like a little girl hating her body for its abuse wounds.

    During the final breathing exercises, I visualized hate blowing out, and immediately felt that I have been holding a belly full of hate for my body since my abuse.

    I hated being imperfect.

    My belly can rest now, for I will now work on loving my belly, loving more the imperfections that abuse leaves behind.

    How awful that abuse leaves hatred of self inside our bellies, how we try to escape from ourselves.

    I feel I have found the source of all my angst, the infestation of feelings that lay inside, the seed abuse left there to grow.

    Sprouting self hatred…

  • Peace with My Self.

    IMG_5198
    “Language… has created the word “loneliness” to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word “solitude” to express the glory of being alone.”
    Paul Johannes Tillich

    I love that there are two ways to look at being alone.

    I used feel much more alone surrounded by family than I feel now being separated from most, because at that time I didn’t know who I was.

    I was always lonely…lonely for me.

    What I fear more is being lonely with them, than being in solitude with my self.

    Being in solitude with myself brings me great peace; being with others who seem to misread me would leave me very lonely.

    Alone in a group and not fitting in…maybe you are only lonely in a group that isn’t a good fit.

    So, even if I was with my family I would be alone and misunderstood, which is why I find it much easier to be alone in solitude with myself.

    I am not sure if I will join the group of family, where I will leave my solitude behind, if there will come a time when I feel an opening that I can fit into, a space that will hold the new me I found.

    I really don’t feel lonely but rather that I am honoring my truths and enjoying them in solitude.

    In peace with my self.

  • The Lady and Her Jeep

    I was shocked to learn that I had joined a new group, a group of which I knew nothing about, and still don’t, but feel I will learn as I go.

    As I drove my Jeep across the Bridge in town, an oncoming Jeep spotted me and gave me a friendly wave and smile…I waved back, pondering who was that?

    My second wave was as I was traveling along the highway, a white Wrangler waved and then it dawned on me, all Jeep Wrangler drivers wave at each other.

    Sure enough a dark green one spotted me and he too waved, then more and more.  It is the oddest thing and funny to be part of a group that I didn’t even know about. 

    I wave back, but don’t have a clue what the agenda is of this group…what have I joined?

    I wonder if my yellow light on top or the fact that I drive from the right puts me in a special sub group within the group, if delivering mail is a bonus or a demerit?

    What is the common bond between the Wrangler owners, what character trait or lifestyle would be a common thread?  Do I really fit in?

    It’s an unexpected feature and one that I am not sure how to use or express.

    Perhaps I own a Jeep but I don’t match the persona one usually has when owning one, I landed here by accident. 

    Yet my jeep will look as it has had a lot of fun mud bogging when I return some days off the route.

    It feels like I joined an adventure group unbeknownst to me…and what is scary is this mail route will become an adventure depending up on the weather.

    Again maybe everyone knows but me that by owning a Jeep Wrangler my life will take me on exciting rides.

    Wow…no wonder they smile and wave…’hope you are tough enough to ride’ and I do too! 

    We will see if my spirit matches where this jeep will take me, do I have the right stuff? 

    I am thinking the confident get a jeep, and in my case I need the jeep to be confident…confident I can make it through the rain, sleet and snow and dark of night to deliver the mail. 

    Maybe this group isn’t for the faint of heart…but will make the faint of heart strong. 

    I guess this group is for me. 

    I will rebuild the confidence I lost, the strength that seems fleeting at times, the endurance against all kinds. 

    The Lady and her Jeep.