To Grow is To Live

You know that moment, when a song comes on and it suddenly triggers memories from years ago? Maybe it doesn't even trigger one specific event, so much as a feeling, a sense of a period of time in your past. I've been practicing meditation regularly for about 6 weeks now. Practicing being present and in the moment. But today, I got carried back to a point in my life about 4 years ago. Driving home, a song cued up on my Spotify...and something about the combination of the music, the fresh air, and driving past the trees starting to change just stirred up some memories. And that got me thinking....as I'm prone to do from time to time.

4 years ago, at this point in the year, I was in a weird transition. I had tumbled out of a marriage, through the rabbit hole of a simple yet surprisingly cruel divorce. I was on my own for the first time in my life, trying to sort myself out, reeling from life abruptly changing. I remember many a Fall day when I drove around blasting this particular artist....or sitting outside at the coffee shop studying for class (I had briefly returned to school that Fall) with them playing through my headphones. All those crazy, mixed up feelings returned for just a moment or two. And then I thought about how much has changed since then.

Early last week, I finally met up with a family member who used to be like a sibling. We had a falling out years ago, at a time when both of us were messy and angry, for different and weirdly similar reasons. In catching up, she made a comment about how I seemed much happier now, content with life, comfortable with myself. I had acknowledged it and moved along. I'm tempted to say we repaired our relationship, but I think we've actually started to build a whole new, far better (and healthier) one.  It's a wonderful feeling.  Her comment came back to me as I thought about those 4 year-old feelings. She's right.

It took all the things I went through to get where I am. It took that disappointing marriage and messy divorce. It took the resulting rebound relationship - a disaster of verbal abuse and gaslighting and exploiting every insecurity I ever had - and its implosion. It took missteps and relationships that never took off and a lot of time on my own. And now, through the beauty of hindsight, I see the good things that grew out of this chaos. The friendships that strengthened. The person I have become.

If you want the most honest change that occurred....then I'll be transparent for a moment. I was so angry. Past me carried so much anger and resentment. But I never let it out. It was my burden to bear, my feelings, and I dared not bother anyone else with it. For many, many reasons - that are far too personal and not nearly ready to be processed publicly - I carried so much anger. I denied that it existed. I don't think I was even capable of seeing the true scope of it.  But inside, I seethed. I raged. I let it eat away at me. It gathered steam like a tidal wave, and overtook me. Finally...and I'm not saying I was even aware that this was what I was doing at the time....I decided that it wasn't serving any purpose other than making me miserable and making life harder. I started to let it go. Not all at once. I'd love to tell you I'm some enlightened being who had an epiphany and sudden released all my worldly burdens. But that isn't even near the truth. Bit by bit, piece by piece, I've slooooowly pulled out that anger, like shards of glass pulled from flesh. Each piece gets held out, acknowledged, and safely discarded. It's a long, painful process. There's plenty more to go. But the resulting peace that takes its place soothes the wounds.

I never want to go back to being that girl. The lonely, perpetually sad girl who believe she deserved all the garbage. The girl who was afraid to demand her true worth. The girl who was afraid to take up space, who would've gladly shrunk herself into non existence if only it pleased those around her. After all the experiences, good and bad, here I am. Assertive, loud-mouthed, gloriously weird, and finally comfortable with all my strengths and my flaws. I am not perfect, nor do I want to be.

Of course, 4 years-ago-Bee would've been skeptical if you'd have told her this would be her life now. She'd have raised an eyebrow at the picture of future her: a much better job (two, in fact, in that time span), strongman, traveling, a hedgie to snuggle, teaching yoga. But I think the hardest thing for her to believe would be the internal feeling. The change in self-image. And the contentment with life.

As long as I can keep learning and growing and experiencing life, I am a happy Bee. I expect to continue changing as I go, and am ready to embrace whoever I may be down the road with the same enthusiasm and understanding I give myself now.  I challenge you all to think about the positive changes you've seen in your life lately. Think about who are now and how you want to grow and change....and make that a goal. I challenge you to be a happier, healthier you.

...And Then Yoga Made Me Weep

I need to write about what happened tonight in yoga. This may or may not be relevant to others, but I suspect at least a couple of people will be able to relate. And I need a space to process it, I suppose.

So I started up with yoga back in high school. I did very basic, beginning yoga in my bedroom, jammed into the tiny space between my bed, my desk, and whatever messy chaos of clothes and school books was strewn around the space. In college, I sporadically practiced at home, following videos and online snippets. Eventually I found some local studios and braved going to classes. I've talked before about my anxiety in new situations, especially unfamiliar social situations. Though I felt horribly awkward, I pushed through the anxiety and took classes when I could. Later on down the road, in grad school, I discovered a beautiful little studio near home filled with some incredibly kind and encouraging teachers. I took up a regular practice through school and after I started my career, and even at one point started taking yoga teacher training....until my significant other lost his job and it was on me to try to support us. A beginning social worker salary is miniscule. It barely supports one human, let alone two, and leaves no room for extra spending. So teacher training was sacrificed to the low-salary gods, and I went back to a daily home practice. After I split with my ex-husband, yoga helped me get through the not-so-fun of a divorce. Until I discovered lifting. Yoga then took a back seat and became an occasional side practice. 

Why yoga? Well. It looks cool. And makes for great Instagram pictures. Kidding! I started yoga pre-social media. As a type A, perfectionistic, highly anxious human, I need something to ground myself. I need something to slow myself down. It's probably what simultaneously drew me to studying Buddhism as a teenager. It's amazing what slowing down, focusing, accepting what I cannot control, practicing non attachment, and being in the moment does for my high speed brain. Yoga - and by extension meditation - brings me to the moment. The focus is on breath and movement, on linking these two. A student of yoga learns (sometimes the hard way) to let go of the results each practice...maybe one day I move easily into poses of increasing difficulty, while others I struggle just to feel easy in the basic movements. 

On to the present day. I'm going to try to describe this accurately. As much as one can. After talking about going to yoga with a friend, she offered up going to a class together sometime at a studio near here. We went earlier this week to a Slow Burn class - basically a slower paced class that involves holding the poses for a prolonged time. Sounds easy, right? It's not. It's a great challenge. It was a great class. So when looking at my options for this evening, I decided to go back to yoga and try out a Blend class. These start out more like slow burn....and then move into a more traditional vinyasa (a flow - connecting together sequences of poses at the pace of your breath) style. It was with a teacher we hadn't had earlier in the week. Jen opted in and we met up at class. 

It was a normal Friday at work, which meant all the crises and chaos hit from 4pm on. Even after I left work, I was still getting texts and phone calls. This meant I came into class wound awfully tight. I wasn't sure I'd be able to let go of work. But the teacher was great, and I soon was able to relax and breathe. As we moved into the faster flow portion, I experienced something that I haven't always been able to do during practice. I completely plugged in to what was happening and focused solely on the movement. I had a moment where I started to think ahead, to get anxious that I'd forget the sequence. But I shook it off and decided to trust myself to just keep going through the pattern. And I did. I breathed. I moved. I poured sweat. Buckets and buckets of sweat. At one point, the teacher told us to not stop our flow to wipe our faces, to "let the sweat leave your body"......as if I had a choice. And then, after a few passes through the sequence, I got into and held a pose I never have before. On both sides (I'm horribly lopsided and often have one side less mobile than the other). I smiled. And stayed focused on the flow. Toward the end, he encouraged us to move into headstand. If you've ever seen my IG, you know this is one of my favorite poses. I cannot do a handstand (poor mobility in my shoulders and distrust in my own balance). But I can headstand all dang day. So I did. And then we twisted. And then settled into savasana (the final pose is laying flat out on your back and totally letting go). The poses and the flow were exciting. But here's the part that really stamped this as an amazing class.

As I lay with my eyes closed, letting any bits of tension leave my now very warm muscles...I felt it. The dreaded lip tremble. And then a few fat alligator tears slid out from under my eyelids and straight down into my ears. Good thing I was still streaming sweat, it all blended in. But I didn't feel sad. Or happy. I just felt....content. Relieved. The practice allowed me to finally let go of all the tension stored up tight deep in my joints and muscles after a stressful week at work. Sometimes a good practice will pull up emotional stuff. I used to get embarrassed about it. Now I just accept it. The profound relief and gratitude for such contentment was indescribable. We finished class, I stared at the ceiling for a minute or two. When the teacher walked by, I wanted to tell him what a wonderful class it was, how glad I was that I had come, how much I appreciated his skill at leading such an intense class. Instead, all I could do was make eye contact, smile, and choke out a "thank you". He smiled and touched my shoulder for a second, saying thank you in return as he walked by. And I let it be. I knew there was no way I could discuss the class without unleashing more emotion. I didn't even know why, exactly. Yoga is weird like that. It pulls out things you didn't even know were hiding.

Sometimes I take for granted how stressful my day-to-day can be. I work in a stressful environment. And just like the hundreds...thousands...of others who work in acute care, I've normalized it. Eventually you either acclimate or burn out. But this sets your normal gauge at a higher resting point than many other people. Ask any crisis worker, mental health tech, EMT, or pretty much any nurse in a hospital setting; they will likely agree that their "normal day" and the conversations had during that day would be wildly out of whack to most other humans thrown into that situation. Amazing what we adapt to. Humans are amazing. But thankfully.....we have things that help us to de-stress: lifting, yoga, rock climbing, skydiving, hiking......Oh. Is that just my list? ;)

Anyway. I don't know the exact point here. Maybe to encourage everyone to find their self-care. Do things that make you feel good. Take care of yourself. Always. Maybe to let people know that we all struggle with new things, returning to things, continuing to grow in things. Maybe to say hey, emotions happen. Allow them. Own them. Let them pass. And enjoy the ride, human. 

The Adventures of Nature Girl.....or, Basic Suburban Folk Go Camping

All summer long, a couple of friends and I have talked about going camping. We've been itching to get outside. And this past weekend, we finally scratched the itch.

Of course, after setting aside this weekend and planning much of the summer for it, the forecast turned to shit the week before. We discussed the rain several times, never wavering in our plan. Friday, two of us had to work before we could head on out and meet up at the campground. We had found a good middle point that was about equidistant for all of us - me from Auburn Hills and them from Grand Rapids. Friday, the reality of the impending storms hit and the question was thrown out as to whether we should wait and head out tomorrow. No, dammit. We are going. Rain isn't going to stop us. And so....we went.

Though I drove through bands of pouring rain on the way out, the campground was dry when we arrived. We hurried to set up the tent before the rain reached us, not knowing how much we might possibly get at once. With minimal issue, we got the tent up.....I only managed to bend up one tent stake, due to my Hulk-like rage at not being able to push the stake through some buried rock underground.  Whoops. It was dead still and about 9384023% humidity. We were soaked in sweat by the time we were done. But there it stood.

Well, without the fire initially. But by the evening it looked awesome!

Of course, by the time we were ready to make a fire.....it had been drizzling on and off and all the wood in the area was damp. Even the bundles of firewood were damp from the humidity, despite being covered. Thankfully, we had kind neighbors who took pity on us (after Brogan crashed their campsite and asked real nice-like) and threw a little lighter fluid on our fire to get it going. From that point, I was able to prod the fire to life so that we could make some dinner!

Behold!! I give you fire!

We enjoyed a drink by the fire before finally turning in. Jessie and I ended up chatting and shooting the shit for a while in the dark, unable to settle in and snooze through the humidity as easily as Brogan. Finally, we drifted out. Overnight, we got hit with a solid thunderstorm. There's something about waking up to thunder and pouring rain.....and being perfectly dry. Our tent held up well. A bit of water worked its way in at the far corners, but it could be managed with a single towel and no one floated away. Turns out, our neighbors on the other side were not so lucky. Their tents flooded out, and they spent the rest of the weekend with blankets, pillows, and other belongings draped over their cars trying to dry. 

All this rain made for stifling humidity in the morning. Despite a couple of attempts at dozing off (after Jessie the rooster woke up BEFORE 7 AM), we finally gave in and got up. Jess ran into town to get a couple of necessities we had forgotten, and came back with coffee. She really wanted to make some eggs over the fire, so I attempted to revive the fire. It got going, but not hot enough to keep the cast iron skillet hot or to get the coffee percolating. Jessie got grumpy face, and it was clear we were not going anywhere until there was more food. And so, I decided we were gonna have a hot-ass fire, come hell or high water.  And so:

Look at that smug mf-er in the background

Fueled up and caffeinated, we got ourselves packed up and ready to hike. Sleepy Hollow has a continuous hiking trail that loops the lake, intersecting on one side with some multi-use and horse trails. At that point, it was 85 degrees and 95% humidity. We figured we would get around the lake and then see how we felt. The paths criss-crossing on the west side would let us adjust mileage accordingly. The loop started off in the woods....and it was beautiful.

So much green. Green everywhere.

We saw some wildlife. Unfortunately, that included a wee mouse that appeared to have been hit by a mountain bike. Little buddy was taking his last sad little breaths. And my squishy lil heart couldn't bear leaving him in the middle of the path. That's no place to die. And there's no dignity in being stepped on or hit again. Yes, I know. Nature is harsh. And unforgiving. And I realize that, regardless, he was going to die. But that's just how I roll. Ask Jessie.  Our last hike together, we came across a chipmunk that had been hit and killed (hopefully instantly, not sure) by a mountain bike just before we got there. I moved it off the path and under some leaves. There's my wildly overactive empath-self at work. And so, wee mouse needed to at least be moved. So I picked him up in some leaves and moved him to under a tree. I covered in him a couple of leaves and tried not to cry. Because: soft and squishy. For Pete's sake, I'm tearing up just writing this. Fortunately, after that, we came across lots of (very alive) little frogs. And a bigger mouse running through the plants. And then some bigger frogs. And I was pleased.

The humidity was killer. Under the trees, we were granted shade. But not a lick of breeze. And after 6 miles, we parked it on the trail to rest and snack a little. Refreshed, we carried on. Until we came to a fork in the path, which appeared to drop off a damn cliff and then immediately climb vertically up the next hill. I was not impressed.

What fresh hell is this.

Finally, we cut across to the multi-use trail. It was wide open. And we finally had a breeze!! But now the trade off....the sun felt like it was riding directly on the top of my daypack. Holy hell.  But we were treated to a beautiful view of the lake.

Hello, beautiful

I'm gonna take a second right here to thank Jessie and Brogan for sharing their gorgeous pictures from this whole weekend. All of these were taken by them. I refused to take my phone out of my daypack, as I attempted to disconnect and be absorbed in the moment. That has its pros and cons. Obviously, I have vivid memories of the hike. I got to be completely in the moment and think only of the walking and the scenery and all of the sensory bits to be taken in. The downside is that I had little photographic evidence from the weekend to share later. And this post would just be a bunch of words and no pretty pictures to show you all. So thank you, friends, for your photographic skills. Some day maybe I'll be able to balance both of these things. 

We cut around the lake and back to the campground, ending the hike just around 9 miles. We could've easily added a few more miles on the north end, but I think we all needed to sit and cool down. Let's be honest....as much as I loved the hike....taking off hiking shoes and socks was probably one of the greatest feelings ever.

That'll do pig.

Once cooled off and mellowed out, it was time to make dinner. Brogan had prepped some chicken and veggies for skewers, and I had some veggie burgers (for my less-meat habit lately). I got that fire goin' - I had proudly dubbed myself the Fire Master. I'm really sure my firefighter father would be extra stoked to hear how much I enjoyed breathing life into hot embers to make flames ignite the fresh wood. Sorry, Padre. 

I got me a pokin' stick. Burn, baby, burn!

So many pretty colors. So tasty.

The night gave way to cooler, more comfortable temps. We attempted to check out the meteor showers, but it was still too early - we needed the moon to set so it stopped interfering - and we got booted out of the open area near the beach because it was "closed". Of course, that was after Jessie gave the ranger a talking to for illuminating us to a bunch of drunk teen boys. It was quite entertaining. But also a sobering reminder of having to be on guard walking the trails at night as women.....and not because of potential furry four-legged creatures in the woods. 

We mellowed out by the fire and enjoyed some beverages. I couldn't have been more content if I had tried. When we finally climbed into the tent, I was out like a light. The night stayed cool and dry, and we had a good breeze through the tent. Perfect sleeping weather. We slept in a bit the next morning. Once up, we took our time getting moving, making a last pot of coffee over the fire and hanging out at the campsite. 

Really, truly, one of the best parts of camping

Brogan gets all artistic over coffee <3

It was bittersweet to break down camp and pack away everything in the cars. It was such a wonderful weekend. My soul was happy. Being out in nature, away from everything, disconnected from the world.....it's so necessary. We spent the weekend talking about our next camping adventure, planning to work toward some backpacking and camping up north. By next summer, I want to be able to do some real backcountry exploring. Because there's nothing like pooping in a hole to bring you closer to nature. No, seriously, I do want to be able to be pretty self-sufficient and do some multi-day trips out into the woods. And who better to adventure with than these awesome women??

I look like I photobombed the shit outta these two.

Back to work this week, my brain is still outdoors. Ive been looking up places to go hike. I've saved several locations to my "to-do" list. And I've started doing a little research into some of the gear and tidbits I need to learn/know to do this all successfully. I cannot wait to get back outside again. I'm eager to take advantage of every bit of outdoor time before snow hits.

Now I'm off for more Brutus snuggles. We are mellowing out on the couch with The Office on in the background, while I read books about travel and adventure. Sometimes it's nice just to live a little vicariously, eh? I had planned to go get a couple of jumps in this coming weekend, but it looks like the weather is going to thwart that plan. Keeping my fingers crossed that they're wrong and Saturday morning ends up being clear. Otherwise, I'll bump that back a week. It's not a bad consolation to spend the morning drinking coffee and hanging out instead. 

Here's to a good end of the week. Let's hope that full moon treats us all well.

In Which I Jump Out Of A Plane. Again. But Better.

This weekend, I almost let the comfort zone win.

I've been waiting for the right day to go do my AFF (accelerated free fall) jump, since I took skydiving ground school three weeks ago. That weekend, the weather sucked and I didn't get out there in the tiny window of decent weather they had. The next two weekends were busy, with travel and hosting the strongwoman competition. I only have 30 days to get my jump in, so this weekend was The Time.

Saturday morning, my alarm went off, and I laid in bed staring at the ceiling for a while. Did I really want to go do this? Hmmm...well, yes. I did. But was I sure? What if I messed up something and looked stupid in front of all the other people at the drop zone? You see, this is how anxiety works. It gets hung up on trivial shit, then beats that dead horse with another dead horse until a new "scary" thing comes along. I wasn't worried about the parachute not deploying. I wasn't even worried about potentially have to cut-away and pull the reserve if I had to. A little nervous about that, sure, but I had a good instructor and felt like I could go through the proper steps if I needed to. Instead, my anxiety latched on to two things: What if I can't find the drop zone once I deploy? And what if I land like a rock in front of everyone? Really.  Of all the things...these are what my mind fixates on.

Finally, I thought "Just get your ass out of bed and get in the car". I told myself that I would go out there, and if the weather was good and everything was a go, I was going to face my anxiety and do the damn thing. Besides, I already paid for it. Good thing I have an inner cheap-ass, because that's what finally got me moving.

The drive to the airport is long from here. Plenty of highway, then rural roads and farm land. By the time I got there, my weird nerves had my stomach fluttering. But when I got there and checked in, the girl at the desk recognized me from when we came to tandem jump. I told her I was there to do my first AFF and she cheered. Then she showed me where the sport jumpers hang out and prep to jump, on the back side of the hangar. I got to hang out around the cool kids....people who actually know what the hell they're doing, aside from the basics taught in class. I sat and listened to lots of stories; people were talking about jumps they watched online, with all kinds of crazy stunts, as well as upcoming gatherings and trips. Everyone was super friendly, saying hi and introducing themselves. Whenever someone asked what jump I was on and I told them my first AFF, they got all pumped. It reminded me a lot of the strongman crowd....everyone is laid back and friendly and glad you're there to do the crazy shit with them.

Because I had gotten there later in the morning, and it was a beautiful day, I waited for over an hour to jump. But it didn't feel like a long hour waiting, because I met my instructor and walked through everything. I learned how to check my gear. We ran through the sequence several times, and I got a refresher on all the hand signals used while free falling to help a student adjust their body for the optimum positioning. We talked out the landing pattern and did some trouble shooting for if I wasn't exactly where I wanted to be at certain heights. Steve reassured me that he'd be on the one-way radio I'd have only helmet, walking me in. I felt like I could get the basics and land myself if the radio failed, but definitely hoped the damn thing worked when the time came Then we sat at the picnic table and shot the shit with a couple other guys to pass the time. I met my second instructor just before we got all geared up to go, and he was just as cool. I zipped myself into a jumpsuit (which feels slightly like a sauna suit in the summer sun) and Steve helped me get into my rig. Fortunately, I'm used to awkward leg harnesses and whatnot from climbing, so it wasn't too foreign straightening everything out and tightening up all the bits and pieces. Turns out, a rig is actually quite heavy. And stiff. I'm not sure what the hell I thought it would feel like, but I was a little surprised.

Finally, it was our turn to go. At that point, the fluttering had settled to a dull roar and I was as ready as I was getting. Once we were on the plane, I felt oddly calm. It was a done deal as far as my head was concerned, so what was the use in feeling super anxious? May as well breathe and focus. And enjoy the damn thing. There were a handful of solo jumpers on the plane with us. A few of them went first. Then it was our turn:

They signaled for me to pull at 9k feet, rather than the 5,500 you're taught as a "standard" for students, because the wind was pushing us further away from the airport and they wanted me to have time to get where I needed to be. Of course, at the time, I had no idea of any of that. All I knew was that I looked at my altimeter (the gauge you can see on my left hand) at 9k, then saw the "pull" signal. Steve had reminded me prior that if I see that signal at any time, once it processes, pull. Don't question it, don't ignore it, don't debate it. Just pull. So I did. I'm glad to see all the repeated training and running through the signals sunk into my brain. As soon as my brain realized that was a single finger in front of my face, I tossed the pilot chute. In the video, you can see my 3 practice touches. Steve puts my hand on the handle the first two times, because I was having trouble finding it. On the third touch, I got it straight on. And that stuck in my head, apparently, because I pulled that sucker with no hesitation and no missing or fumbling it. 

Once my parachute deployed, I was relieved to look and up and see that it looked exactly how it should. I ran through the test steps, and it flew just fine. Then I looked around. Where the fuck was the airport?? Not below me....nowhere I could see in front of me.....I did a nice gentle turn and OH! there it was behind me. Thankfully, I had been cued to look for the giant white tanks across the road from it, and they were definitely the most prominent thing my eyes landed on. Then I looked at my altimeter. Why had we pulled so early? Of course, the anxious part of my brain assumed it was because I was doing something awful and they had just pulled the plug on the whole freefall. Mentally kicking myself, I then realized I only had a couple thousand feet before I was where I needed to be to start my landing pattern.....and I didn't seem to be close enough. I aimed myself a little straighter, then played around a little with the toggles, pulling to a near stop and hanging there a few times to get a feel for it. I tootled to the left, and to the right, then straightened out again. And then, miraculously, I heard Steve's voice on my walkie. He told me to flare (pulling both toggles down to make the parachute slow down) if I could hear him. I did. "Good!! You're looking good! Keep coming this way". Whew. Okay. Looks like I wouldn't have to land in a field after all!! 

Steve talked me in and I executed the turns. Coming in close the ground, a few small puffs of wind kept pulling me to the right. Another jumper was gathering his parachute and turned in time to get out of my way. Steve's voice called "Flare! Flare" and I did and I landed. You're taught to land like a wet noodle, a sort of semi-controlled roll to absorb what impact there is until you're skilled enough to slow at just the right moment to land on your feet - otherwise you risk breaking something. I was less "wet noodle" and more "potato". But that's okay. I was a safe potato who did it all on her own! I laughed and Steve came over. He immediately reassured me that I had done nothing wrong - before I could even ask - and explained the wind thing to me. He said I had done well, and had followed everything like I should. He showed me how to gather my parachute and we walked back to the hangar, processing my perspective of the jump. 

We met up at the picnic table and rehashed the jump. I hadn't realized he had the camera on until he said he had video. We watched it and critiqued it. I am but a wee new baby in the land of skydiving. And I have plenty of room to learn and grow. But I was darn proud of myself and Steve gave me a good critique. I need to remember that I have legs and position them better, for sure. And I need to refine my landing as I come down the last 300 ft and land like a potato, for starters.  I am definitely looking forward to doing more jumps and really dialing in the muscle memory and learning to read some of the subtle factors. I'm simultaneously nervous and excited to go again. I plan to get a couple of jumps in the next time I go out. I almost stayed for another jump, but realized that I was starving and not prepared to be there for another couple of hours. So I said goodbye to everyone and told them I'll see them in a couple weeks. "Why not next week?!"..... Oh, yep, this is how the addiction grows. 

Truth be told, if I weren't going camping, I'd be planning to haul my happy ass back out there. 

And so. That was a really long, drawn out way to talk about not letting anxiety get the best of you. It can be scary to be outside of your comfort zone. But I'm learning to assess that and push myself just slightly outside of it.....to push right through those butterflies and take a deep breath and just trust myself to do the thing. I worry about what I'll do...then I worry about what would happen if I did't do it...then I worry again about doing it....

And once it's done, I never regret it. In fact, I'm often pumped to go back for more.

So there's your challenge for this week/weekend. Find something just outside of your comfort zone. It doesn't have to be skydiving (but if it is, I support it!!). Go to a new place. Try out a yoga class. Take yourself out to eat solo sans cell phone. Venture into the unknown. Don't let yourself get in the way. If you find yourself saying "Well, I'd like to, but I don't know if I can...." then say "Self, knock it off. You can do it. In fact, it's practically already done! Bee believes in you". And then tell me all about your non-comfort zone adventure. If it's new for you, it's a big deal, and I want all the details!

I can't wait to hear about everyone's adventures!

Scattered Update

Life is a weird grey area right now. I'm happy but I'm not. I want to stay but I want to go. I want to do everything but I want to do nothing. All at the same time.

Health issues are keeping me out of training right now. I've been exploring some gentle alternatives that I can do with what little energy I seem to have. Yoga is my bff right now. It's not the same as running strongman implements and I miss lifting heavy. I miss having a solid workout. I know I should go to the doc, but I've been through this for years. Every time we come back to it "likely" being IBS and you just have to manage it and figure out your trigger foods. And minimize your stress.  Oh, yeah, okay. Let me just take a vacation from life. (Insert middle finger emoji here)

And so....I've retreated to reading. Volumes of poetry. Books on Buddhism and meditation and Zen. Memoirs of travel and adventure. Words and words and words until I doze out on the couch or in bed. And still I want more.

I am insatiable. In every facet.

There's more happening, but I'm not ready to delve into that chaos just yet.

This weekend, I took Friday off work and went camping with man friend and his friends. Friday night, I fell asleep in my hammock for a few hours while the fellas played guitar and chatted around the campfire. It was brilliant. We spent the weekend sweaty and dirty, washing off by playing in Lake Huron. We cooked meals over the campfire and I ate s'mores until I thought my teeth would fall right out of my head from all the sugar. We had drinks and played euchre late into the night and stole deals and hands from opponents left and right. It was a great weekend away. I am content with that.

Even if I have been ingesting ginger like it's going out of style and living off the blandest foods possible now. Damned if I do and damned if I don't so I may as well occasionally enjoy things that'll piss off my stomach anyway.

This week is the lead up to Midsummer Valkyrie. It's going to be a good time. I'm so excited to have everyone there again. It's a smaller contest than December was, but I expect this next December one to be just as big as the last. The final week is interesting. Prepping last minute details, finalizing shirts and awards and the flow of the contest. And fielding last minute questions and people dropping from the contest. Being a promoter is a lot of work. But so very, very worth it. I love doing it and am already throwing ideas around for the next. Mostly, I'm pumped for some truck pull. Woot!

I started this with the intent to focus on one topic. And then I ended up scattered. I can't settle my brain onto one topic, but it seems a shame to delete the whole thing. So I leave you all with this mess of a post. Something coherent will be incoming soon, I promise.

Love <3

The Great Outdoors

I've been starting to make good on my desire to get the hell outside. Last weekend I went out and about on my own. I'd had plans to hike with a friend, but she was hit with a migraine and had to back out. So the next day, I took my happy self out all on my own and enjoyed some nature time. It was lovely. And much needed.

So this weekend, I'd already set aside the time to meet up with Jessie and Brogan to possibly camp, but to at least day hike. After a truly awful, stressful week (both personally and in the larger world sense), I made a decision to get a hedgie sitter and stay the night out in Grand Rapids. I peeled myself out of bed on Saturday (let's talk about scheduling a "sleep in" day soon) and cruised on out. It was a beautiful morning and I genuinely enjoy long drives alone. It gives me time to do a little car karaoke and contemplate life.

After arriving and hopping around with the dogs a bit - our traditional Hello Dance - Jessie and I got our stuff together and changed to hike. Unfortunately, Brogan was feeling some nagging pain from training and wasn't able to come out with us. So we opted to go out to the ski area and investigate some of the mountain bike trails. They had hiked trails on the other part of the area the weekend before, so Jessie wanted to explore some new territory. It was all new woods to me, so I was content with wherever she chose. We hopped into her Jeep and enjoyed a doors-off ride out of town. Every time I get in her Jeep I start to long for one of my own......as I lean out the door with my face in the wind like a dog.

After roaming slightly aimlessly to find the trail head, we wandered on into the woods. Jessie taught me her ancient mountain bike tracking skills, in which she can tell me which way we should be going on the trail by the direction of the tread. Orrrr maybe she glanced at the signs. But I prefer to believe she's the bike whisperer. Thank goodness, she can stick her ear to the ground and listen for the rumble of nearby tires if we get lost.

Jessie was smart and camel-backed her water

It was a gorgeous day for a hike. Not ridiculously hot or humid. It was a bit cloudy here and there, and once the sun came out fully we were under the big green canopy. Perfect. Beautiful. Day. We even walked around a pond that looked like it came out of some prehistoric jungle.

Found the primordial ooze

After working our way down and out through the far loop, we hiked it back toward the main trail area. We had packed in our hammocks and a handy tube-shaped cooler (Thanks to my monthly Cairn box!) of cold beverages and had been scouting for the perfect hang out spot. Of course, then we saw this:

Now, you know such a polite sign must be holding the key to the perfect hammock spot. So we explored further and found it!

What's that Lassie?! The hammocks found a home?!

So then this happened:

The pano shot at the top of this page is from this point. We just hung out, had a beverage, joked, talked serious topics, joked some more, and generally took in the peace and quiet around us. We ended up swaying in the breeze for nearly 2 hours. It was exactly what I needed - what we both needed, I think. The world is simple out in the woods. The rest of the world is a shit show right now, but it doesn't exist out there. 

Today I went and trained. I didn't want to. But I did it. And I actually bumped up my numbers, even after being sick all last week and not training at all. I really am excited to compete again, but not feeling well and battling whatever has been up with my stomach is not making me feel very motivated. 

Next Friday is ground school, the next step toward skydiving solo. I'm super pumped for it, though that evening is all "classroom time" and a test. So let's all hope that the weather holds out later in the weekend so I can go jump with instructors. 

Other than that.....I'm busy planning. Planning for Burma in the fall. Tickets are booked and now it's time for the fun details. Planning camping and hiking a lot more for this summer. Looking at hiking challenges and getting myself out into some new spaces. I'd expound more at this point, but I'm tired from the weekend and ready to go cozy myself into bed. Hope you're all busy planning your next adventure too. 

Embracing Being Me

I've been thinking a lot lately about limits and enthusiasm. Perhaps might not seem an obvious pairing, but hear me out.

In my quest to really live my life, to have the experiences I want to be having, I've been doing and planning some things that aren't necessarily the "norm" for lots of people. While I'm no stranger to being the oddball in the immediate vicinity, this has led to some interesting reactions from people. You'd think they'd have learned by now to just smile and nod and move along. But people just can't stop themselves from voicing their opinion or think they're being helpful.

Let me preface the next part with this: though I may do some things that have some inherent risk or may not be the safest, I am not reckless. Impulsive, sure. But I will not knowingly do something that is just reckless and stupid. I calculate the risk and weigh the options. Because, let's be very honest here guys....there's risk involved in everything. Every morning I get in my car and drive to work, I'm taking a risk of a car accident or vehicle malfunction. Sitting in this condo building, I have the risk of one of my dumbass neighbors burning the joint down while we sleep. We get complacent and enjoy the illusion of safety, but life is truly inherently risky. It's only the "it'll never happen to me" mentality that let's us all feel calm and safe and un-anxious much of the time.

Maybe it's the joy of getting out of my 20s that has made the reality of life increasingly clear. I have realized that I would so much rather spend my money on experiences. That I have the ability to do so. That I can't take it with me when I go, so I may as well enjoy what I have. Why wait for "someday"? Why wait until I'm retired to try to get out and see the world and enjoy life? Why waste the time? I never want the regret of what I should have done or seen or been to hang over my head.

I posted a status on Facebook the other day that got some echoed responses of how true the statements are: It dawned on me that when I tell people ahead of time what I want to do or what I plan to do, if it's outside the "normal" box - if it has a risk involved that people cannot stifle and turn rose-colored or hold at arm's length - I get a lot of negative feedback. Some is outright negative. I've gotten called "crazy" and lord knows I'm used to getting the LOOK...like I'm some sort of alien creature people can't make sense of. BUT....when I tell people after the fact about what things I've done, the feedback is primarily a bunch of "wow!!" or positive statements. It's interesting to see that perhaps people's own fears and limitations they set on themselves project out onto others.

I've said before that I'm a 100% in kind of person. When I like something or I want to do something, I am all in, full-speed ahead. I recognize that about myself. I recently shared with a friend that I was considering exploring something new to me in further depth - which could become a costly endeavor initially - and was promptly reminded of my tendency to swan dive into things. And then I felt bad about being that way. What if I am too impulsive? What if I do crash from thing to thing, sampling a little of this and tasting a little of that and flitting around like some drunken butterfly? After a couple of days of pondering this, it hit me:

SO. WHAT.

So what if I try a million new things? Isn't that better than sticking with the same 5 things I'm used to and just wondering? When I'm done with this life, I want to look back and have zero regrets. I want to know that I've LIVED. Full on, full speed, insanely, abundantly....LIVED. 

I am a responsible adult in many respects. I've stood on my own two feet since I was 18. I've never let anyone - nor have I expected anyone to - take care of me. I have always paid my own bills. I have always supported myself. I have always made sure that my responsibilities are taken care of, first and foremost. So, now that I have worked hard and earned myself a place in life where I can take care of all of those basics, have I not also earned the ability and the right to enjoy myself? And who gets to dictate what that means? Pretty sure I do. Because, in the end, it's my own life.

I don't know if my enthusiasm bothers people. I don't know if my inability to fit in a box makes people uncomfortable. Maybe it just makes me unlikable to some. That's okay. It's okay if people don't like me. As long as I am kind and compassionate and do my best to be a good person....then I'm going to do things on my terms. I'm not hurting anyone and if they're uncomfortable with who I am, that sure sounds like it's their problem.

I will not dim my enthusiasm. I will not set my limits within others' comfort zones. 

And so I'm embracing it. Because I am happy. The feeling of being totally in the moment, of being solidly content and just in love with life....that's a feeling of freedom. And every time I experience that, I revel in it. If it were tangible, I'd roll around in it like a dog in fresh wet grass. I wish that feeling for everyone. In whatever things bring that feeling for them. Maybe it's sitting in your home, looking at your beautiful family....being surrounded by a loving spouse and happy children...having a solid foundation and a daily life that brings fulfillment and joy. Maybe it's traveling the world, seeing new things and meeting new people....seeking out adrenaline pumping adventures and checking things off your list. Maybe it's all of these things. Maybe it's none of these. It doesn't have to match my own picture of happiness and being....it just has to match whatever picture is inside of you.

I have plenty of things up my sleeve as far as plans go. But I'm not ready to share them yet. Some I will share beforehand. Some I won't. Some I know that I run the risk of a light-dimming wet blanket being thrown on my excitement by some well-meaning but soul-stomping human being. So those things only get shared with my very trusted few. Just know....you'll all hear about them (probably until you wanna roll your eyes right out of your head and puke a little) when the time is right.

Dictate your own story

Wee Lil' Update....I'm Still Kickin'

Brutus welcomes you back to the blog.

The winds are shifting. Things are changing, I'm changing, the whole damn world is different. And it's difficult to tell what changed first.

I'm in a weird grey area with some things in my life. I'm trying to sit with the uncertainty, just let it be grey until a good move is apparent. That's a hard thing to do when you're a Type A, anxious person. I want resolution and answers and comfort. I want the expected. I want plans. But I can't have those things. So I need to learn to just let it be. Until it isn't.


Here's what I do know:

I love this jewelry class. My confidence is slowly growing as I work on new pieces. My flower pendant got a very lovely critique from the professor. That made me feel pretty good. Like hey, maybe I'm not too bad at this....not as bad as I feared, for sure. I've already finished a second piece and am in the final stages of a third. This next project can be multiple pieces, but it must include a handmade chain and a bezel setting. I've made one chain. I'm almost done with my very first ring. It's not perfect, definitely has that handmade feel....but I shall wear that sucker proudly once it's set and polished. Because I made that thing from some pieces of metal and a stone. I've already got plans for a pendant and another, more elaborate ring. Then I need to decide on what my final piece will be. I'm absolutely loving this.

So proud, if it were flat, I'd have my Madre hang it on the fridge.

So now my task is to figure out how much of this setup I can create for myself at home. I want to continue building these skills and creating things once this class is done. Once I no longer have access to the lab, I'll be needing the work space and torch and pickle and the whole shebang to do the thing on my own. Hmmmm.

I also know there is more adventure in store. A fun, scary, exciting one is in the works for next month.....I'm not confirming what it is until it's here though. Talk about facing your fears. That I shall.

There's also a major trip in the works. This would mean no road trip out east this summer, but it also means an extra week of play and exploration elsewhere. So I'll likely take a long weekend this summer and go see my grandparents. They're my most favorite humans in the whole wide world, and I miss them fiercely. My grandma just sent me a surprise package - a pretty little crocheted sparkly scarf - just because. And I reminded me that I don't talk with them nearly enough, and I definitely don't take enough opportunities to go see them. So away I shall go. Meanwhile....overseas awaits. I am so beyond pumped for this trip that I can't even stand myself. I'm looking at pictures and researching places to go and every pictures just draws my mind off and away.

See why I can't concentrate?

Mini-trips also await, in the form of camping and beach time and just some quality face time with some people I hold dear. I plan to spend time this summer hiking and swimming. And I'll be getting plenty of relaxation in my hammock. Because every summer, I tell myself I'll do these things, then get mired down in working....I end up so exhausted and limit what I "have time for". Which is a damn lie. I've got time to go have fun. I just need to spend the time on the fun instead of laying on my couch being a damn hermit.

I've also crept back toward my roots. I've started re-reading some books I have - and also fully reading some that have just been hanging out on my bookshelf for years.

Zen mind...shut up and relax, mind.

For those who don't know, I've studied Buddhism since high school. It's always just drawn me. Religions in general draw me - likely for the same reason I like studying human behavior. I want to know why people believe what they do. And absolutely love the various backgrounds and myths and stories that go with so many of them. Especially Eastern religions. I took a Hinduism class in college, but never got a chance to take the Buddhism one. I use to attend a Tibetan Buddhist temple in Ann Arbor. I still peek in on their media from time to time, but the drive is just not feasible on a regular basis from out here. I don't really talk religion often, mostly because it's deeply personal for people and it can be difficult to have an objective conversation that doesn't get taken personally or become some sort of defense-tinted stream of monologue. Mostly this, for me, is about centering myself and giving myself the space to work out what is going on and what I need. Who couldn't use a quieter, calmer mind and a little bit of perspective?

As for the rest of life.....it'll all work out. I'll just have to practice some patience and some well-timed decisiveness. 

In the meantime, I'm saying yes to things. Trying new things. Working on adding to that "adventure" list. And steadily checking things off of it. I will not be one-dimensional. I will not be in a box. 

Go onward, friends. Try something new, talk to a stranger, take a leap off the edge of your comfort zone. It's awfully fun out here. 

Plus, I always have this guy when I get home:

Don't stare at his cute little face or teeny tiny paw too long, or your head will explode.

Adventure Time

I'm ready for adventure.

A couple years ago, I finally sat down and wrote out a "bucket list". I'd always had a list of things I'd like to do some day. I figured if I put them in writing, I'd feel a little more accountable with them staring back at me. And it worked. I started chipping away at goals....some that I really thought were a long reach or might be years and years before they happened. The trip to Montana was a big item off that list......for some reason, I had always wanted to go. I'm not sure why. I couldn't name it. I just felt drawn to go there. One day, I was sitting at a training seminar with a coworker chatting about trips we'd like to take, and Montana came up. In that moment, I made a decision to go ahead and book a trip. Potentially going alone was a very scary idea, but I also decided that if I didn't have anyone I'd like to go with me, I'd ultimately be fine going on my own. Of course, I didn't end up going alone, it was a wonderful trip, and I have so many great memories from it. When I got to Montana, I just felt....home. What actually pushed that trip into existence, though, was my declaration to those around me that I was going. I put it out into the world, held myself accountable, and made it happen.

This list may or may not be how I ended up taking a leap into competitive Strongman.

This week I've been chatting with a kindred spirit who is out in the world living her adventures. She's a pretty awesome human, and we have quite a few things in common. If you've ever felt completely out of place in the world, pretty much at all times, then you know how invaluable it is to come across the handful of people you end up having in your life who get it. Like-minded folks. She has inspired me.

I realized I've settled into checking off the "safer" things on my list. Time to push myself back out of my comfort zone. So I've started adding to my list, no holds barred.

I've started my metalsmithing class. One might think that taking a class is no big deal. My anxiety stretches into the social end. That meant dealing with meeting a whole bunch of new people. It meant traveling to a campus I'd never been to before and finding a classroom for the first time. It also meant taking a leap into an activity for which I have zero reference to scale how I might do it in it. I can do basic wire wrapping and beading, but intricate jewelry and metal work is brand new to me. I'm also no artist when it comes to drawing. I paint mostly abstract and nature, so that means sketching out the designs in my head can get a little iffy. And until I finish my first piece, who knows if I'm any good at this. I consider myself relatively creative, and I love hands-on activities, but this is all new. So far...I really love it. I have an idea and it's slowly taking shape. I'm excited to see how this piece works out.

And now I'm adding some new destinations to my list. I plan to take my shiny new passport and get myself out into the world later this year. Later this summer, there'll be a road trip east (Maine, Vermont, etc.), because I've never been out there. Later this year.....I'm off to another continent. It must happen. It will happen. And here I'll hold myself accountable. So as plans develop, I'll be updating on it.

There's no time for living other people's expectations. And I am certainly not content to just work my life away. The "American dream" is not my dream. Someone else can have the picket fence and the 2.5 kids. My dreams do include a partner in life. But that partner has to keep step with me. That doesn't mean being attached at the hip at all times. It means having someone who loves me and respects me and lets me flex my wings...but who knows that I love him in return and need that human contact and that grounding force, and that I'm always 100% loyal and more than happy to have someone who wants to adventure along with me. I want someone who is in it for the good, exciting, fun times...as well as for the anxious, difficult, and sad times. Because that's life, babe. The rest of my dreams include adventure. I want to see the world - in whatever ways I can make that happen. I want to work a job that's fulfilling. I don't expect every day to be sunshine and rainbows, but I want to feel that spark to be there doing things to help others. I want to add something to the word....not be someone who gets mired in negativity and petty bullshit. I want to live my life with kindness and compassion. I'd rather live minimally and put that paycheck toward the things I enjoy doing. I want to spend my time at home creating things and reading books and just indulging in the things that make me feel content. I want to go to the gym and lift things and go to competitions with my friends. I just want to experience life. All of it. Not just drone on through it and endure the daily grind until it's too late to do any of those things.

For a while, I tried to convince myself that these things were the kind of things you only idealistically believe in your early 20s...when you're young and a little naive and optimistic. But then I realized that isn't true. Who the hell says that getting older means not being optimistic or idealistic? Who says that you can't hope for something more than the 9-5 and bills and responsibility? Who says it means letting life pin you down and just settling for whatever sounds most "adult"?

Don't get me wrong. Plenty of people want the family. They want the house. And the dog (okay, I also want the dog). And the stability. And the predictability. And you know what? That's just fine. That's fantastic. If you want that and you have that, then you're living the life you want to be. And that's important. I'm not saying any of those things are less than or not good. I'm saying they're not for me. Except the dog. One day, the dog will be for me...

...when I don't live in a dog-free building.

These are the things that have been on my mind lately. This is what's rolling through my brain at midnight when I'm supposed to be sleeping. This is what I'm writing about in journals and picturing when adding to my list.

So....now I'm going to go try to sleep. I've got a fire truck to pull in the morning with my team of amazing Strongladies. And symmetrical flowers of decreasing sizes to draw so I can cut them out of metal sheets on Tuesday. Which will literally take me at least 2 more days to perfect.

On Moving Forward and Being Positive

I feel different. It's been an odd month and this is the outcome.

About a month ago, I got a call from my doc. Some routine tests came back with "concerning" results and required follow up. So I had to make an appointment to go back in....three weeks out from that time. Odds were good that it would either work out to be nothing or at least something easily addressed.  But there was a chance that it was something more serious. And as anyone who tends toward anxiety knows....an anxious brain does not lock onto the good odds. It grips the worst case scenario like a steel bear trap and drops on down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. Add that to the stress I was already feeling pre-vacation, and it was a helluva inner storm. On the outside, I played it all off like no big deal. Rough week at work. Just ready for a vacation. 

Vacation was beyond wonderful. We ate and drank and lounged and played and just enjoyed the hedonism that comes with a week in paradise where the answer to everything is "yes". But with 12 hours of travel time out and back, and plenty of moments to sit with all the internal dialogue, I spent a lot of time thinking. And I came back with a different attitude.

No more bullshit. I've noticed that I frequently have the thought that I am just plain "exhausted". I'm so tired. All the time. Even when I sleep enough. Even on vacation. So I started paying attention to where my energy was going. It turns out, it's often funneled into all the stress and negative shit. It's spent on running like mad and trying to do everything and not stopping to take care of myself. As I thought harder about it, I realized that this is no way to be happy. No wonder I've been so restless in life. I have no energy left to deal with the important things. 

Then I thought "If this test comes back with 'bad'....or oh please I hope not the 'worst case scenario'...results, is this how I want to live my day to day? Are these things worth focusing my time on?". The answer came quickly. No. Of course not. Life is too damn precious. And in the end, nobody gives a fuck how much work you got done or whether you had the last word or about any of your material goods. And, frankly, in the midst of your body doing whatever the hell it wants with no regard to what you want, do you even care about those things? Nope. I could not possibly care less about all the little nonsense and material shit. So why have I been letting all the little things pile up and the negative things drag me down into a never-ending spiral?

Here is where "different" comes in. It was time to let go of the hurts and the anger toward people in my past. Letting that go does not equate letting those people back in my life or making nice with them. It means not dwelling on it. Accepting that it's said and done and no longer letting those thoughts and feelings take up energy. It means it's time to weigh situations as they come up and decide whether it's worth getting drawn into, whether it's worth investing feeling into and taking it personally. The things that register as a yes, I pursue as passionately as I always have. But I'm done getting pulled into the petty drama - mostly applying to work. The politics and games and less-than-ideal coworkers aren't worth any more than a laugh and a brush off. 

What matters is the relationships I have now. The positive focuses in my life. We all have a past. We all have wounds and scars. And it is far too easy to hold those wrongs against any- and everyone else down the road. I could re-hash for you my own experiences. Friendships that failed or faded. Relationships that crashed and burned. A rocky, cruel divorce. An abusive relationship. It's all a play on the same old universal stories - we all have our own versions of the same themes. It's not worth pulling up all the details, reliving the issues. It's there. It happened. Why stay in the cycle? No point. 

And so, on the stressful days, I take a deep breath. I vent when I need to. I laugh at the absurd situations. I deal with what I can address and then I move on. If I need to come home and sleep, that's what I do. If I need to cuddle with Brutus and pretend the world doesn't exist while I watch mindless movies, I do that. And if need to have some normal human time, I go spend time with friends. I focus on that moment and try not to dwell and try not to worry about the 'what if's. I've gotten back to the gym. With no expectations and no pressure, I just train. And my god does it feel good.

On the good days (which are increasingly outnumbering the stressful and/or 'bad' ones), I enjoy it. I go with what feels good. I get silly. I get goofy. I smile and laugh a lot. I try to put that positive energy out there. I aim to give a little light to those around me. Because that's all worth sharing. And I just flat out feel better.

To round this out, I got a call from my doctor's office post-follow up telling me that the tests showed benign tissue. Doc will keep an eye up on regular checkups for a while, but all is good. My anxious mind is at ease. 

Ultimately, you choose what you focus on. You choose where you spend your energy. And it's up to you to make the moves to protect yourself and make changes if your current situation is not serving you. Carry on, friends. Let's just share a meal, a laugh, a moment. Let's enjoy life. Let's...just...be.

My Inner Flower Child Is Restless

Life is odd.

Just when you think you've gotten off the struggle bus, shit just keeps happening. And that's life, I know. But it's been happening with an underlying sense of discontent. Particularly when it comes to all the "should be"s of life. I should be happy with the job I have. I should be happy with the things I have. I should be training. I should be more social. I should be carrying on with the things I've been doing for a while.

I don't want to.

That brings on other "should"s. I shouldn't be all over the place. I should have my shit together. Should should should.

Fuck the "should". (Sorry, Madre)

How many times in life do we do what we should do? How often do we live as expected....because that's the right thing to do? But why? And though this feels like a very teenage/college conversation to have, it's true. Why. Why live in a box? Why live by the expectations of others...or at least what we think others expect?

So then the question comes up "What do you want?" (cue annoying Notebook clip here)

You're welcome.

I want to be happy. But what does that look like? It looks a lot like many of the things I already have...with just a few things added or removed. Happiness is waking up in the morning, looking forward to the day. It's feeling fulfilled and content at the end of the night. It's time with family. It's genuine friends and time spent laughing and talking about the absurd and the serious bits of life. It's having someone I love, who is a partner, an equal in life...someone to share it all with, to share space with, who not only accepts me, but loves me for all my quirks. Happiness is a fuzzy little face and a wet little nose snuggled into my neck. It's time spent moving my body in whatever way feels good that day, whether it's lifting or yoga or a bike ride. It's canvas and paint and wet brushes. It's creating things and beautiful music. Happiness, ultimately, is connection. To someone, to something. 

The problem has been that I've been trying to alternately hammer myself into the Happiness Box. And it hasn't worked. Since I don't want to be living the definition of insanity here, I'm finally taking the time to just work toward these things. On Saturday, I made a snap decision to get off Facebook for a bit. It's such a habit to open the app, scroll through repeatedly, get distracted and caught up in the bullshit posted every day....in order to break the habit, I had to deactivate. I don't know how long it'll last. But I have to say, it's been mighty quiet since then. And it's really kind of nice to get a break from the onslaught of information. I feel a little...disconnected. But not necessarily in a bad way. And, I figure that anyone who needs to find me can. Anyone who gets mad at me for deactivating probably shouldn't be around anyway. It's not life or death...it's Facebook. I'm still on IG, but that's a much more manageable platform and doesn't feel nearly so overwhelming.

So no more hammering. Still plenty to sort out. But overall....it's better. It's getting better. And soon, there will be this:

The countdown is on, friends.

Soak in that sunshine, baby.

This is going to be as short and sweet as possible. Mostly I just need to get my thoughts out in front of my eyes.

Life has been a whole different ballgame over the last couple of months. I still have no idea what I want or need to do about my career. Thinking about it too much ends up being overwhelming. So I ponder it, leave it alone, and then revisit it. Will I stay where I am? Will I make a move? Will I leave social work altogether? Who knows.

Today, I made a move on a couple major things, though. I start a new programming cycle next week. I committed to a strength cycle with my coach. I want something low pressure and just fun, to get stronger and enjoy the perks of training strongman. I'll probably volunteer at some more contests, as well as working on Midsummer Valkyrie for July. I'm so pumped for round 2 of Valkyrie! The major move here, though, is a new gym. I'll now be at New Species, which is a great facility owned by an awesome dude. I'm really pumped. And that will be the host gym for Valkyrie....it's an exciting move that will lead to an even better contest.

I've suspended classes at Tough. My licensure is up for renewal and I have a ton of CEUs to get still. My work is offering Tuesday/Thursday classes for a few weeks to help us out, and I really cannot say no to that. Not to mention that I'll be headed off on vacation in a few weeks! When I get back, I'm hoping to tie up the major details to offer the opportunity for Strongman folks to meet and train. We will be offering a group there, and the same rules will apply - anyone and everyone will be welcome. I know a lot of people have made moves elsewhere already....hopefully a few folks will want to at least come weekly. If not, I'll embrace my own training time and leave the door open for anyone down the road.

I also let go of my private practice office. I've been unhappy with some of the things my landlord has done over the past 6+ months, which led to me not wanting to stay and therefore not really working to add to my caseload. Since it's been subleased to not one, but TWO other people, it definitely does not feel like my own space. And the original agreement for me to be able to grow into the space disappeared with the first sublease. So I made the very bittersweet choice to not re-sign my lease. Maybe, at some point down the road, I'll pick up some private clients. I do still enjoy doing therapy. So I won't close that door entirely. The sense of relief I felt once I officially confirmed it speaks volumes, though.

What else.....I've registered for a summer session class at the community collage. In a cliche, in-my-30s move, I'm going to go take a class for funsies. I've been wanting to learn metal smithing to be able to flex my creative muscle on some jewelry. Looked up classes, found a couple local places....and it's still cheaper to go with this option. It'll make for some long days for about 6 weeks. But I'm looking forward to getting the skills under my belt. I've been enjoying painting so much and have been learning so many new things about technique, color, mediums, etc. I really do just love it. I'm hoping expanding my options for creativity gives me even more avenues to explore and enjoy.

Life is getting better. It got very dark and very scary for a while. To the point that I started, for the first time in my life, having panic attacks. They hit out of nowhere. And my world started getting very small. After a couple hitting on the highway, I stopped wanting to drive very far for anything. I didn't even like having to drive to and from work. After a couple hitting at bed time, I stopped sleeping in my room and slept on the couch for a couple of weeks, falling asleep to the television. After a couple near misses at work and while hanging out with friends, I stopped going much of anywhere other than to work. I couldn't control them and had no idea when they would happen. So I hid. From people. From things I loved. From life. This is wildly embarrassing to admit. I know I'm human and it happens. But it's an awful, awful thing to be able to help others with the exact same problem you cannot stop for yourself. The good news? I'm working through it. And it's been almost 3 weeks since the last one. A couple have threatened, but I'm learning to pick up cues and navigate through them. Daylight has returned.

And no post is complete without mentioning this guy:

I love him. He's so sweet and fuzzy and just so darn adorable. I'm a crazy hedgie lady. He's the perfect pet for me. And I could just burst when he snuggles in, then peeks around to look at me from time to time. Best little buddy ever.

Basically, here's how I'd sum up life these days: more of the happy-making things, less of the stress-making things. Weeding out anything that doesn't add to my life. Embracing everything that brings joy and contentment. Isn't that how it should be anyway?