Balancing Act

Balance is a tricky thing. Seems like in all things there is that element of balance and when it is out of whack, you are very aware of it. 

In July 2012, I wrote a post on my FB group page that had this line in it: If one is to be truly healthy, it must be a balance of mind, body, and spirit.

In July 2013, I had an event happen that made me look at that phrase and re-evaluate my commitment to it. Being faced with the lid of Pandora's Box wide open before me, I could have chosen to slam it shut or make peace with the contents.

bal·ance - /ˈbaləns/ - noun - a condition in which different elements are equal or in the correct proportions.

I was not in the correct proportions with my mind, body, and spirit. I juggled them about as to create an illusion of steadiness and confidence. Although not the most effective way to manage the lot, it worked. It worked so well, I could even fool myself most days. But even the greatest juggler eventually drops stuff.

In July I realized to find this healthy balance, it was going to be a war. Assured I would not be alone and that it was a war that could be won, I decided to put on my armor and jump in. It is a daily battle where some days I win and some days the demons win, but I keep fighting. It is my silent war. I have too much to do and too many people to help to let on that, underneath it all, I am fighting for my very life. 

bal·ance - /ˈbaləns/ - verb - counteract, equal, or neutralize the weight or importance of.

My life feels like a flowchart. I have all these roles. Different responsibilities that affect different groups of people. Ironically, a lot of my success of balancing all of these has been removing the role of "self" from the equation. And now it is there, returning from a long hiatus.

I have days. Not labeling them as distinct as "good/bad" but I have days. Allowing myself to feel emotions that I have blocked for years it a little overwhelming. It all comes at once - fear, heartache, confusion, obscurity, inadequacy, guilt, loneliness, and more. Most times it does not make sense. But this is war, and when has war ever made sense?

I was taught several years ago that all emotions are valid and experiencing them is just part of being human. From a young age we learn the reactions to them. Sometimes we don't learn real healthy ways to react. Sometimes we were not taught but tried to figure it out on our own. Sometimes the lesson we learned was not to react at all. We did the best with the knowledge we had.

Paralyzing.

I used that phrase tonight while going through an emotional inventory. It really is paralyzing. If emotions and feelings would just line up nicely and swing by one by one, reacting may not be too hard. But when they come in unorganized waves, the immediate reaction is to stand, frozen. Maybe the wave will pass by and not see me. If I don't move, I can't make a wrong reaction. I have no idea how to react, therefore, I will not react at all.

It's not even a "fork in the road" concept. On one side is myself. On the other is all the roles I play. I am exhausted. Right now all I know is all one or the other. Where do I spend my time, my energy, my mental and spiritual resources? I can't seem to find the sweet spot between the two, the place where I can balance it all efficiently and effectively. Quickly, the whole machine comes to a stop without warning. I can save them or I can save myself. I can't figure out how to do both yet.

As I inventory the feelings of the moment, I inventory the facts too. I then decide from both sides, a rational plan of action. It's a skill I was introduced to recently and am learning more about. The inventorying not only makes you aware of Emotional vs Rational, but it makes you stop, slow down, breathe, step back a moment. No quick decisions. Count to 10 (or 20 or 50). Now, make a decision or plan - it's called wise mind.

So, I sharpen my sword, polish my shield, and grab my helmet. Today, it was close, but I won.

Tomorrow, a new battle.

Silent words

When I went to girl's camp as a youth they would teach you that "you may be the only scripture anyone every reads." It was a simple concept - live what you professed. Live in such a way that people knew what you stood for, what you valued, if you could be trusted. It made sense. It still does.

Could you positively affect lives while never saying word? Is your spirit strong enough that it speaks volumes by just being? In silence, could you change someone's life?

I got to thinking about this again a few weeks ago. I had gone upstairs to get ice from the gym. It was the first time I had seen many of the athletes since school started and my heart swelled with joy. I find so much joy being around them. I smile, laugh, and always learn a few things. Getting to be in their very presence is energizing and uplifting. I can just stand in the doorway, not even interacting with them, and be enlightened. I joke that I would probably be twice as productive at work if my office was in the gym. Seriously, everyone up there are that amazing of people, the whole lot of them. Maybe it is my inner athlete, coach, AT, and OTA that gets all excited, but my spirit just shines to be around them. I could just sit in the gym or walk the outer offices and soak in their goodness. Who am I kidding, there is no "I could" to it, I do it. Wouldn't you?

I started thinking of others in my life that affected me the same way. I quickly identified several. I realized that over the years I really had managed to surround myself with good people. Friend or colleague, these were people that I could just silently exist with and be blessed. There has to be some common thread among all them. I'm not sure I can delve that deep into it but, in my heart I know it is good, it is light. It's a light I can see even if they cannot. Ironically, I'm quick to always see it in others, but must have an all out war to strain for glimpse of it in myself.

Is it wrong to want to leave a trail of good? Is it wrong to want to be remembered across generations? Is it wrong to want to bring joy just by my very presence? The desire is not to get recognition or gain. It is so far from that. It's knowing how powerful joy and love are and that everyone needs to feel it. It is knowing that even in a bad time, a smile can give a glimpse of reprieve. It is providing someone a sense of belonging. It is offering a moment of peace and calmness. I would like to think I could be that way; that I am. I try to live that way. I try to be someone that extends a presence of love, loyalty, and compassion.

I try.

Shhh, be still.

I grasping tonight. Not sure the setup. Too many items and not sure which to choose? No items there to choose from? Can't find the one I really want? Maybe a mix of them all. It's never just simple or obvious.

I don't understand how the mind works at times. I often would explain how loud it was in a place. I compared it to a gymnasium full of kids - like when we had to stay inside for lunch recess. So many voices echoing within one another. Sound bouncing from wall to wall with no direction or aim. It all melded together and nothing was distinct. It was that "want to stick my fingers in my ears" loud.

In reality, it is quiet. Very quiet. The kind where you have to strain just to hear the buzzing of the light bulb. Yet, I hold my head in my hands and to shut off the noise.  It's so loud. I feel if I remove my hands, my head might explode. Deep down I struggle not to scream out for silence. So loud, in complete silence.

I don't know what it is. Emotion? Anxiety? Demon? Even all these years later, still not sure on that one. But I do know one thing, it carries a signature. It has a trait. It takes two opposites and intertwines them together. And, even though you visually can see what is reality and what is not, a trick plays on the remaining senses. For a moment, you even doubt what is real.

It comes along in other ways too. Alone, only to feel a crowd is so large and close that you hardly have space to breathe. Or, the opposite, surrounded by so many and yet, a feeling of loneliness and solidarity that is so real you wonder if anyone even knows you exist. The signature is always there.

Just. Keep. Smiling.

They. Won't. Know.

It's a game of deception happening on multiple levels.

I know there are so many people in/been in my life that I frustrate to all ends because I put up that front, start up the show, and do all I can not to let the conflict or destruction inside show through. Most of the time it works. That's how I want it to be....for the most part.

I used to think it must have something to do with the generation I am a part of: Don't share your problems. Figure it out yourself. Suck it up. Deal with it. Never let them see you sweat. It doesn't matter if you are dying inside, you never let on. Your problems are just that - yours. I know differently now, but teaching an old dog new tricks is never easy. It's safe. It's comfortable. It works. It also eats at you slowly.

I hate making decisions. Not that I am indecisive - oh, no, I most always have a decision made in my mind - I just struggle with the validation of my choice.

Simple example:
With someone - Where would you like to eat?
You reply - Oh, it does not matter to me.
Again asked - No, really, anywhere you want to go.
You take the bait and reply - Ok, let's go to .......

Immediately after your decision you pick up on the subtle body language that this was not a popular choice. One or some play along nicely, but you know they would much rather be somewhere else. Later it is confirmed directly and indirectly, that was not a good choice. Time was wasted. Things were not as fun. It could have been better. You learn never be the one to choose where to eat.

I wish it were only decisions about food that end this way. Too many choices do. Too many choices have. Lesson learned? 'Tis better to make no choice than make one that causes another distress. Rational? No. Logical? No. Healthy for your spirit? Most definitely not.

Still grasping. Seems a little clearer. Too many items. Too many emotions. Inability to focus. While inspecting one, another one catches my eye. Reaching out for it, a third one distracts. It is an ADD nightmare.

But, finally, it is quiet. The "kids" are gone. The "crowd" has left.

I can lift my head from my hands.

Choose anything, but just choose

A short while back I did my first Warrior Dash, a 5k obstacle course. The first half muddy terrains, ravines and streams, hills and gullies, and a bit of barbed wire. The second half, mostly man made obstacles to climb, crawl, swing, and conquer. It was something I wanted to do from the day I started my weight loss journey. In my mind I envisioned completing this great challenge and being able to say "look what I did!" Not really looking for much more than "I lost all this weight and look what I was able to do!" It would be challenging, but I was going with friends and it was a chance to play in the mud. I mean, who doesn't like playing in the mud? Plus, I had talked it up so much, I couldn't wait to come back and brag about it!

It was a beautiful day. I was nervous and the closer to start time I was feeling unsure and down right scared. What had I really signed up for? No turning back now. Suck it up.

It only took about 50 yards for my friends to bolt ahead, and thus the challenge was mine to do alone. All me. Just coming off a pretty devastating emotional situation, I was not thrilled on having to "fight for my life" in a muddy hell by myself. Surely someone would of had a little compassion on my fractured soul. But, in the end, this is how it was. It was how it had to be.

It didn't start too bad, it was just dusty, uphill trail. I was good with that. It was as if being in Argentina again in Tres Cerritos with Hermana Farias. There was a family up in the mountains that we had to hike to for our visit. Yes, the family with all the animals - including the rooster that attacked us during the first vision lesson. That was the family where Farias thought it would be funny to smack a goat as we walked by it. She knew it would rear up, I didn't. Scared the hell out of me. She laughed hysterically. We were always playing something against one another - many times along this trail. I do believe it was that same goat who ate my sombrero as well. Memories. I could do dusty trail thing, just imagine traveling with Farias again. Score. Easy.

Ah, creek bed, then mud. Oh, did I mention the mud? Thick, deep mud. What the holy hell? What in God's blessed name have I just gotten myself into? This isn't Argentina, this is pure fricking insanity.

Stopping for a moment and surveying ahead all I could think was "really? really?" Farias wasn't going to get me through this. How disappointed would my racers be if I told them I couldn't even cross a little creek bed. I mean, it couldn't be that bad and there could not really be *that much* mud ahead, right? No way could I do this on my own - oh wait, there was no one around. My friends were far ahead and the several hundred people who started with our slot had done passed me at this point. It would be a minimum of 15 minutes before the next group started. Alone. I was alone with a healthy dose of doubt, fear, guilt, and shame.

Cross it. Have fun. Go. Just go. Be careful, I'm sure it is slick and your balance sucks, so be careful.

Across the river I placed the image of my racers; Jessie, Rob, Amanda, Kelsey, Suzanne. Cross the river and we would celebrate. Cross it, just cross it.

I crossed. It was cold, and yes, slippery. But I was careful. It was fun too. Who doesn't like to splash around in water. Take the moment, it is yours. Each step, each splash, that is you. Own it. Keep it.

I kept them in front of me. Close enough to see and hear them, far enough away that I had to do the work. In my mind I let them say "here, just get to here." And, with each 50 feet or so, we celebrated. I couldn't do this comeplety alone, so I just imagined them cheering me on as I had done them. Granted, I cheered them on in reality and this was just a scenerio in my mind, but it worked for me at that moment. Plus, I knew, if possible they would have been there.

The next wave was coming up behind me. I stayed to the side as much as I could as not to get in their way. They all seemed to have this down, I was still trying to just survive. I slipped in the mud and went down. That hurt. Yes, that will most definitely leave a bruise. Watching my feet and the terrain, I chanted to myself with each breath "you're good Blewy, you can do this, keep going, they are going to be proud of you." When I did look up, it was to find my racers encouraging me on, but they were gone.

It truly was now all me. The only one who was going to get me through this was myself - my worst enemy. I, had to become my greatest strength. I don't know how you really explain that "moment" but something changed. Things changed. Perception changed. Strength changed. I changed.

Then the first cliff. With plenty of the next group still behind me, I stepped to the side to let the bulk go by. I also could catch my breath. This was not the easiest thing on me physically. Dear God what I would have done for a drink of water at that point. I was so damn scared. You had to sit on the edge of this 8-10 foot cliff and slide down it - and not like an easy grade. No, it was a drop. Then, across a small ravine and up the other side - again an 8-10 foot climb. Oh yah, the other side was all mud. My mind was all over the place. How the hell was I going to do THAT? I was asked many times if I was ok. I replied yes, that I was just allowing the group to go ahead as I knew it was going to take me a bit and I didn't want to hold anyone up. There was some truth in that, at first. But it was fear. I could use a buddy here.

I kind of feel like that now. On the edge of that ravine. A different person. Alone in a journey. I'm watching things go by - emotions, memories, dreams, hopes, fears - things I need interact with. Others gave me strength and help to get here but they cannot pick for me. Pick one. Don't be afraid. It's not a bad drop. It's not going to kill me. No one, not even myself will allow it kill me. Not today.

As I sat on the ravine, a gal saw the fear in my eyes and said "come on, I will go with you." I hesitated. She placed her hand on my shoulder and said "come on, you can do this, it isn't as bad as it looks." So I jumped. On the other side I climbed. From behind the gal pointed where to put my foot next and where to grab. Up the muddy side I went, and I reached the top. She gave me one of those "way to go" slaps as she went by on her way.

I am not going to die in this journey. It's ok to be scared. Fear is allowed to exist, but not the impede. Choose one. Choose any one, but just choose. Where is my mind today? Where are the thoughts today? Where are the words wanting to come from? Just choose. Just go. Just jump. You are strong. Stronger than you think. You have to do it alone, but you are not abandoned. Keep moving forward and help will come when needed. No matter how far the drop, go. When you get to the other side you will know where to put your foot. You will know where to grab. You will be able to get up. You cannot fail. It is not an option because failure does not exist. Not anymore.

There was more mud, ravines, drops, and climbs. I made it half way through Warrior Dash before my body just gave out. They tell me it that it was the hardest part - the first half. The terrain of the second half was essentially flat and not really muddy. Physically, I was shot. Severely dehydrated, there was no more balance left between my temporal and spiritual self. I had given it all I had - physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally. I left hate, despair, guilt, and doubt behind me.

There will only be a select few who will understand what actually happened out there that day. I may not have gotten to jump over the fire pit (I can't lie, I really was looking forward to that), but I didn't need to climb man made obstacles to be a winner here. I won. And that win was mine. I got to own it fair and square. The power gained was mine. I fought for it. The demons did not win that day and they will not win today.

So, Blewy, jump. Just jump.

Flood of Emotions

It's just damn nice outside today. Fall is here even though Indian summer is still lurking in the shadows. I had plans today - they involved being around people. I changed them. Ok, so I ducked out on them. Whatever. I wanted to be alone.

My mind has been going 400 mph in a stew...yes a stew...of emotions. (I haven't ate for a while, feeling hungry. Just deal with the food references). Lisa and I have worked on slowing my thinking down. Taming the racing thoughts. But this is different. I want to ponder so many things: changes, feelings, choices, events, memories, thoughts, and so on. It's all there. Yes, stew. There they all are, all screaming "pick me! pick me!" It's a little overwhelming, so instead of picking one, I step away from all. Breathe in deep, hold, breathe out slow. Lather, rinse, repeat. No longer screaming, they all sit there and stare at me. Ali always did that. After a while you could feel her eyes on you. She never begged, she just stared. Sometimes when I was sleeping she would stand over me and just stare. That didn't take long to get my attention. Take what you want, just quit staring at me!!!! And so the stew stares at me. Nope, stew reference not going to work anymore. I've fought too many years to not be clinically crazy. Discussing how stew is staring at me is not a good place to go in order to maintain my saneness. So, give them some kind of solidity, but not stew.

There is fear here. There are all these things to pick up, to look at, to examine, to experience. Many have sat there for an awfully long time. I'm not sure what they even truly feel like anymore. Some I have developed my own ideas of what they might feel like - good or bad - but am still a bit weary to pick them up and see if that is how it really is. These things are a part of me and if I am to become whole, I must at least become acquainted with them....again.

I find I want to sit quietly and watch them move about. Not ready to touch them or even let them know I am observing from afar. How do these things move? What are they doing? What is their purpose? How do they interact with the others? If it were an orchestra I would listen closely, picking out each instrument and singling its melody from the others (I can do that, actually. It's an amazing gift.) As I listen to each part I decide what instrument draws me in more, which am I intrigued by, which do I have a desire to listen to more, which do I want to pick up and try. And then even deeper. Where is my place? First chair, last chair, second part? The deepest melodies are not always on the top line. Some of the most powerful music comes from the secondary parts. Sopranos and violins may get the glory, but altos and cellos support the pedestals they expound from.

Watching does not do a whole lot in a proactive sense. I'm not resolving anything. I'm not making any plans. Most definitely no active choice making going on here. But I am allowing all of us to be here, together, in a moment. When I would get into my "hibernate and hide out" phases a dear friend would tell me that I have to go be out around people. I didn't have to talk to them, nor did I have to interact with them in any way, but I had to be around them. I had to find some peace in being in their presence. They would not hurt me. I trusted her so I would go and do it. They would not hurt me because she said they would not.

Trust comes with chest pains. Yah, you were not expecting that expression, were you? It does. Trust comes with anxiety of allowing yourself to be vulnerable. Trust comes with heartache when you put yourself out there with a chance to get hurt. Trust comes with an uneasiness of the unknown. Therefore, when I trust someone, it is with my life. There is no superficial when I say "I trust you" because if I allow you beyond that wall to even express that phrase, there is some kind of a bond there - you earned the right to hear it, to have it.

I don't trust easily. I am guarded - and for good reason. Wherever that "center of trust" is in one's self, mine is scarred. Wounds that have been made, healed, torn open again until eventually scarred. Universally true or not, I know for me it has always been simple - trust and get hurt. Yet, I still do it. Not as often, but I do still allow people in. On rare occasions, they see those scars and respect them. They understand the privilege of being there and they honor it. Their intentions are to help and to heal, to guide and to teach. To love and to strengthen. They get it. Yet, others step without looking and create new wounds. Luckily - I guess - those who do this at this juncture in my life do it unknowingly. They hurt me and never know it. Seeing that conflict or confrontation are not in my list of traits, I say nothing. I bestow upon them them the "everyone get's one shot" card in place of apology and then the wall goes up. They lose the privilege. Even unintentional, it hurts deep.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out slowly. Repeat. The pain does subside. The wounds do heal.

It's time.

I'm at a juncture in my life. Well, guess I have been at this spot for a bit - time seems to calculate differently when it comes to battles in the mind. I have done a lot of healing and continue to learn how to strengthen my inner self. Of course, all this teaching, learning, work, reporting, and evaluating is amazing...only if I am willing to do it. And I have been. I learned a long time ago that I have to make that final decision to do it...to fight....to fight the fight that is sometimes daily, if not momentary.

And thus here I am. I have no intentions of going into great history or "this is how I got here" comments - well, at least not in this post. For this moment, it is writing the post. 

Just writing.

Again.

I am a writer who put down their pen years ago. You see, to truly write, you must have an emotional tie. Through your emotions the words flow and take shape. Words blossom and grow and tie into the emotions you share through - joy, pain, happiness, sorry, anger, love, etc. As you write, you feel every word as they are a transformation of abstract to concrete. A piece of yourself is laid out there to see. They say fasting without a purpose is just starving yourself. I believe that writing without emotion is just handwriting (or typing) practice. When life came to a point where just "feeling" my emotions was difficult enough, going the extra step to spend time with them and write became obsolete. Soon I just chose not to feel at all.

So what does this say? I'm all happy go lucky and ready to feel and share and the world has a happy, blissful ending? Oh, no way. I still don't like to feel - but I am working on it. I am learning that my emotions, whatever they may be, are valid and legitimate. I'm trying to make peace with them. It's been a long journey and this is one of the next steps - pick up my pen again. I do have to laugh because the last time I really was a "committed" writer, computers were still monochrome screens and printers were dot-matrix. And the few times I tried to put it on paper by hand ended with those things being destroyed - not wanting a record of that pain.

This is a next step for me and I am not sure where it will go, but it's a step. I'm not out to impart great knowledge or anything like that. I don't even really have an audience. I just have to write. I have to allow emotion to pass by on a complete path. I have to let myself feel at this level again. I imagine it will take a while before it is all more that just "words on a page." I recently made the comment that I was not trying "to be perfect" I was just trying "to be". I'm not out to write the next great viral blog, I'm just out to write. To give myself permission to feel. It can only strengthen me.

And so it is.

A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer.

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson