tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-268646672024-03-13T10:54:22.705-07:00Becoming JourneyA journey that is itself a destination<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-22160493350435621222011-05-22T20:06:00.000-07:002011-05-22T20:32:11.043-07:00<h2>I Just Figured Out Why I Love Art</h2><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ds75x7p-L-c/TdnS_UaPgCI/AAAAAAAABAE/A2GHrwIFAzs/s1600/stine2.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ds75x7p-L-c/TdnS_UaPgCI/AAAAAAAABAE/A2GHrwIFAzs/s320/stine2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609746796119031842" border="0" /></a>When I was a teenager, heaven for me was 2 hours with a girlfriend flipping through posters, prints, graphics, art, celebrity pics, and landscapes at the PRINTS PLUS store at the mall.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Oh to buy a poster and have it framed was to take home a piece of heaven!<br /></span><br />My mom used to wonder what I was looking for in those images so jumbled, mass produced, and commercializde.<br /><br />How could we spend so long fli-fli-flipping image after image?<br /><br />I know how now! We were waiting for our bodies to say yes to an image. It feels so good when that happens. When you connect to an image like I did to this one above on the left.<br /><br />One time at PRINTS PLUS, I got a Herb Ritts picture of a cute guy in button flys. Another time, Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. But it wasn't all about boys for me. I remember feeling so sophisticated the day I bought Monet's Waterlilys, and so sexy the day I picked up Lord Leighton's Flaming June.<br /><br />By the time I found Chagall and Gustav Klimt, PRINTS PLUS has gone - as had my teen years, but I felt the same way (physically in my body) when I fell in love with those artists, as I did the day I stood coveting Annie Leibovitz' Lennon Ono Rolling Stone cover-turned-poster.<br /><br />And now I see… all that flipping through racks of images was a meditation of sorts. I was waiting and preparing myself to be in the moment. To be in my body.<br /><br />I think standing in PRINTS PLUS in 1987 with Sue Philson, flipping through a jumble of art is probably the only time in my teen years I allowed myself to be connected with my only true compass, my body. No wonder I never wanted to leave. PRINTS PLUS was the only place it was really safe for me to tune into my self, listening and connecting with my body authentically and without judgement.<br /><br />I was searching for an image that enabled ME to see MYSELF…<br /><br />Oh look, here I am now…<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6gcRRmQDNZM/TdnRWRsHBaI/AAAAAAAAA_0/2Oh3UAf5Roo/s1600/richardstine.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6gcRRmQDNZM/TdnRWRsHBaI/AAAAAAAAA_0/2Oh3UAf5Roo/s400/richardstine.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609744991502402978" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My friend <a href="http://www.improbablethings.com/">Jessica Hanff</a> introduced me to this amazing artist named Richard Stine. (Both images on this post are his and there are about 100 more I would like to copy/paste here!)<br /><br />I just spent the last hour flipping through his images on a website called Image Kind and I was transported back to the Meriden Square circa 1987.<br /><br />It's nice to know all that flipping had a pretty spiritual purpose. Who knew a PRINTS PLUS could have been so holy.<br /><br />Want to take a spin through <a href="http://www.imagekind.com/MemberProfile.aspx?MID=d5f3bf83-2bf9-4b98-bb46-5537b8e8e518">Stine's amazing collection</a>? Find it at ImageKind.com.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-27877352116423781332011-05-05T19:11:00.000-07:002011-05-05T19:16:48.660-07:00<h1>Some nights…</h1><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BFDO05VoPRE/TcNZq5E_GUI/AAAAAAAAA_o/z4_SwMHSoSE/s1600/tears.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 139px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BFDO05VoPRE/TcNZq5E_GUI/AAAAAAAAA_o/z4_SwMHSoSE/s200/tears.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603420954790140226" border="0" /></a>Some nights I want to write long passages.<br /><P>Some nights I want to detail my decisions and open a hole for the world to crawl into my madness.<br /><p>Some nights it feels okay to connect, to reach out, to be my imperfect self.<br /><p>Some nights, after the crimson shades turn black, I feel a gentle openness and I think:<br />"Maybe everything does make sense after all."<br /><br />Tonight, however, is not one of those nights.<br /><br />Tonight is a night where words can’t fill in the hole in my heart.<br />Tonight imperfection is not a good enough answer.<br />Tonight the blackness feels more suffocating than gentle.<br /><br />And to be honest, I’m really not sure why.<br /><br />I’d be more okay with the ambiguity if I could sleep in a darkened room somewhere in a little anonymous B&B in Darwin or Cairns.<br />I’d be more okay with the ambiguity if time didn’t seem to be moving so fast.<br />I’d be more okay with the ambiguity if it didn’t suck so damn much.<br /><br />Nights like this I understand why Americans watch so much reality tv.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-59889958894862232882011-04-09T10:44:00.000-07:002011-04-09T17:49:28.371-07:00<h1>Hello, Angela? This is God Calling.</h1><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ThQhDc6GH1Y/TaCrJXQKRzI/AAAAAAAAA_g/rwovYddKZJk/s1600/phonebox.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ThQhDc6GH1Y/TaCrJXQKRzI/AAAAAAAAA_g/rwovYddKZJk/s320/phonebox.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593658914543126322" border="0" /></a><br />Have I ever told you the first thing God said to me? I was in Scotland for the <a href="http://www.edfringe.com/">Edinburgh Fringe Festival</a> in the mid-to-late 90s. I should note that the 90s corresponded quite nicely with my 20s and my 20s were a pretty painful time for me. Sex was the closest I could come to love and on that particular day I had just fucked some fairly random guy so I was feeling good but I was also running late for a hair appointment.<br /><br />It was the day I was supposed to get my "<a href="http://www.djkirkbride.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/anna-paquin-xmen3-rogue1.jpg">skunk stripe</a>" (the streak of hair in the front of my head that's a different color - now it's purple but at the time I first got it was blonde). Anyway, I was running late so I stopped at a pay phone (No cell phones then, I know, I'm old.) to call and say I'd be late for my appointment.<br /><br />"Sorry, we won't be able to see you if you aren't on time."<br /><br />I thought they were kidding! What? I'm 10 minutes late and my appointment is canceled? After all, I called. That was the right thing to do. People were late all the time, why was I different? I wished I hadn't called and was sure if I had just shown up they would have fit me in. I shared this with the girl at the shop to no avail.<br /><br />I was pissed at the shop and even more so, at myself. I'd left the cozy bed of whats-his-name and it would be too weird to go back and I couldn't even get my damn skunk stripe. What was I supposed to do?!<br /><br />At the time I was new to <a href="http://acim.org/">A Course in Miracles</a> and a crazy idea popped in my head.... pray. And so I did. For a couple hours I walked the streets of Scotland decrying the base-injustice of a canceled hair appointment. Poisonous thoughts filled my head, but I cracked a teeny tiny window of my heart open.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dear God, I release the woman who canceled my appointment and I love her. I am willing to see it another way.</span><br /><br />And there is was... the voice of God. In my right ear. As clear as a bell.<br /><br />"IT'S NOT ALWAYS ABOUT YOU."<br /><br />Yep, those were the very first words God ever said to me. "It's not always about you." I laughed at the snarkiness of it all. A calm came over me. Somehow, in that moment, I knew it was true.<br /><br />Susan Hyatt's recent talk about text messages from God reminded me of that story this week. I am pretty sure if I had a cell phone back then, God would have texted this to me that day. Through the years since, that small phrase has been the source of so much comfort for me.<br /><br />Today, I had another one of those "It's not always about you" moments. Years ago I shared a kiss with a ridiculously handsome man. The man was 15 years my senior and he was not exactly my boss, but let's just say he was in a position of authority in relation to me. (Why yes, I did have Daddy issues, why do you ask?)<br /><br />At least how I remember it now, he invited me to dinner at his house one night and that's when the "kiss" occurred. After the kiss, he asked me to stay over, but I had another plan. I desperately wanted to spend the night, but I calculated if I played hard to get and went home, he'd for sure want to see me again.<br /><br />As desperate as I was to stay and enjoy the night. I was even more desperate for control. It was all games, manipulation, and bullshit. That particular prison is how spent most of my 20s actually – EXHAUSTING!<br /><br />But my plan didn't work. Despite my working "The Rules," he blew me off. I was sad and mad about this primarily for 2 reasons… 1) because I genuinely loved our friendship and missed him; and 2) because my game didn’t work and I wished I had played it differently.<br /><br />Okay, let me be really honest. After weeks of torturing myself over how I played the game and over the loss of a friend, I boiled it all down to this: I clearly just wasn’t pretty, funny, or cool enough for him to waste his time with.<br /><br />Since that night back in 1994, we haven't spoken, until a couple weeks ago (I LOVE YOU MARK ZUCKERBERG) and today we met for breakfast.<br /><br />This time I brought God with me. It was great to see him. We always had so much to talk about. This guy is just one of the most inspiring people I've ever met. Before the breakfast was over he got serious.<br /><br />"There is something I want to clear up," he started. "I guess it's my guilt/shame admission... That night when we were at my little bungalow. I've been carrying around a lot of guilt for how I handled that. You were so young and considering my position, I knew it wasn't right. Then when you reached out to me after, I didn't respond because I was so ashamed and of course ignoring you only made it worse. I handled that all wrong. I wish I had been more mature. I'm sorry."<br /><br />Oh the pain of this particular loss had long since subsided, but it was so sweet to hear this apology/explanation. For years I had made it all about me and never bothered to look at it from his perspective. I was so sure it was about me, that I never considered the age or power differential or anything going on in his life as a possible reason for the end of whatever it was we had.<br /><br />Of course, I accepted the apology, thanked him for his honesty, and was overwhelmed with gratitude.<br /><br />As I drove home, the tears started flowing. How many times had I abused myself physically, verbally and emotionally for things that literally had nothing to do with me? How many times have I jumped into a cess pool of someone else's business insisting it was my own? How many times have I rejected <span style="font-style: italic;">myself</span> in my search for someone else's love or approval.<br /><br />The message is the same as it was that summer-day in Scotland:<br />"IT'S NOT ALWAYS ABOUT YOU."<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-24824243912002113722011-01-05T11:03:00.000-08:002011-01-05T12:59:26.865-08:00<h1>What's Awesome about Teen Angst<br /></h1><h1><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/TSTA_9KLrPI/AAAAAAAAA_U/f-B7X6ge72s/s1600/eyeroll.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 201px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/TSTA_9KLrPI/AAAAAAAAA_U/f-B7X6ge72s/s320/eyeroll.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558780045063597298" border="0" /></a></h1> I should be doing something else right now. I just got off a conference call and I’m moving into my next task for the day. I took one, deep meditative breath and it hit me. It hit me like a ton of bricks falling on my head and I don’t want to work. I want to write. I want to stew. I want to hold myself in my own arms for a few moments.<br /><br />I just got smacked upside the head with one of my biggest personal epiphanies, literally out of no where. All the nasty arguing and eye rolling I did with teachers in high school and college (not to mention my mom), is not evidence I was a terrible kid that needed to grow up. I can feel myself now, rolling my eyes at Mr. Germanese or huffing in disgust at Carl Gudienus, and even as I feel that, I can see the huffing and eye rolling was a manifestation of a deep longing for information.<br /><br />I was so unsatisfied for so long. I couldn’t really verbalize it, I just felt put upon by the universe and all the people in it. I was… unhappy. I wanted more but I was so unclear and unspecific about what I wanted BECAUSE…. I had no role models!<br /><br />I had no way to picture what I wanted so it was just a deep, unabiding frustration. Like soaking in a stew of discontent. Arguing, bitching and whining – inelegant as it was - was the only way I could think of at the time to express my desire to be taken under someone's wing and shown the magic and miracles of the universe.<br /><br />Like a toddler unable to "user her words", I threw tantrums and flailed my arms – trying desperately to explain something outside of my linguistic capabilities. I think it was the anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss who pointed out -- there is no word for 'art' in Navajo-culture because for Indians everything is art and that the Chinese don't have a word for “no” because “perhaps” is as far as they will go.<br /><br />Like a Chinaman stuck in a land of NOs, I had no words to describe my frustration or loss. I only had a vague hope someone could explain what was going on. Why did I want more? Why did I feel so small and incapable? What were the rules of this strange land? And more over, why the hell didn’t anyone else acknowledge how weird everything was?<br /><br />In some ways I had culture shock due to some internalized knowing I needed to know more. And yet I was in a world where I couldn’t’ access it. Books helped. As did one teacher who gave me a glimmer of hope that this "more" I was looking for was out there. Still it was out of reach.<br /><br />No one gave me what I wanted. No one outstretched their hand and said here… let me show you. Maybe I never met anyone that “knew” how to find what I was looking for. More probably my frustrations shut them out of sharing the lesson. And yet, I see now, I did the best I could. Oh how I want to grab that girl and give her such a huge hug – she tried SO hard. How could no one have heard? I mean, it was an IMPRESSIVE showing made by this inner longing.<br /><br />You know who took my hand in the end? Me. There really wasn’t anyone else and so I’ve grabbed my own hand, I’ve become my own mentor but my tough love for myself hasn’t always been very loving. For instance, it never occurred to me to love those eye rolls and nasty comments until today. It never struck me that without them, I couldn’t have created a road from my sleepy traditional home town to this mecca of possibility, wonder, love and compassion.<br /><br />Freedom – total freedom – comes from seeing yourself for who you are, letting go of the need to fix anything, and opening your arms to the journey knowing total safety is yours for the asking. That’s what I’d tell my angsty-teen-self.<br /><br />Keep rolling your eyes baby girl because that is – believe it or not – the path to your truth and freedom.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-66339930640100415352010-10-28T12:37:00.000-07:002010-10-28T13:26:20.954-07:00<h2>5th annual Purple Thursday Awareness Day -- I am the 1 in 4 </h2><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/TMnRWpw_ZCI/AAAAAAAAA_I/aDsQbIrM6aQ/s1600/RibbonDVAM2.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/TMnRWpw_ZCI/AAAAAAAAA_I/aDsQbIrM6aQ/s320/RibbonDVAM2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533183804300026914" border="0" /></a><br />I was invited by <a href="http://www.weaveincorp.org/">WEAVE </a>and the DC Coalition Against Domestic Violence's press conference to mark the 5th annual Purple Thursday Awareness Day. The event was co-hosted with At-Large Councilmember Kwame Brown and I was so impressed that 5 other council members (David Catania, Phil Mendelson, Mary Cheh, Harry Thomas, Jr., and Yvette Alexander) also spoke. I was asked to represent domestic violence survivors.<br /><br />Here's what I said:<br /><br />When I first started speaking about my experience as a victim of domestic violence, I thought my story was unique. Over the past 2 years, I’ve met other survivors and heard other stories and realized my story was more common than I ever expected.<br /><br />My husband and I had a whirlwind romance, so when he threw a full Brita pitcher at my head when we were engaged, I was concerned, but excused it as a bad day.<br /><br />When he threw my suitcase across the room and kicked a chair the night before our wedding, I took comfort in my wedding party’s theories of cold feet and wedding stress.<br /><br />His actions were harder to dismiss when he threatened to tie me up and set the house on fire if I didn’t do what he wanted, and my excuses ran out when his rage lead to a life threatening car ride in a snow storm, with our baby in the back and my husband shouting “our son’s safety isn’t what’s important here. What’s important is that you stop the car and left me drive.” Still, I didn’t think it was domestic violence, I just thought it was a bad marriage.<br /><br />When my husband's emotional abuse and controlling behavior became apparent, I knew exactly what to do - looked for experts to help.<br /><br />• We completed a year of therapy together with an experienced LCSW specializing in relationships.<br /><br />• I read lots of self-help books.<br /><br />• And I got a personal trainer and started taking self-defense classes – just in case.<br /><br /><br />When I felt I'd tried my best, but the problem wasn't getting 'fixed' and staying was not safe or healthy for me or my baby, I knew what to do – I moved out.<br /><br />When it got MORE Violent - physically violent - after I moved out, I was shocked. Suddenly and for the first time, I DIDN’T know what to do. I never imagined moving out would make it worse. I thought that was going to fix things. Still, I'm educated and engaged, I sought legal and emotional support. My assumption was I could throw money at the problem and make it stop and I was fine with that.<br /><br />I hired:<br />• a $550/hr Bethesda-based attorney suggested I invite him over, provoke him to hit me, and then call the police<br /><br />• a couples counselor - a phd - who suggested when I felt scared my husband might kill me, that I lock myself in the bathroom or take a walk around the block to let him calm down.<br /><br />• and when I asked my handsome, successful well-educated boss, our company's CEO, what he would do; he suggested that since I was so much bigger than my husband, I try sitting on him the next time he tried to hurt me.<br /><br />In the past, I had made a donation to WEAVE as an organizer of the V-DAY campaign at GWU, but I never imagined using WEAVE's services. At this point, however, I'd run out of high-priced experts to call. So when I called WEAVE one cold, morning in January 2009, I didn’t think my situation qualified for their help, I just wanted to see who they would suggest I talk to. Despite my lack of financial need, my successful career, or my many advanced degrees, they nominated themselves to help without hesitation.<br /><br />Later that day I was at a WEAVE legal clinic and within a week had a temporary restraining order against my husband and an attorney with experience in DV law.<br /><br />While the case continues to work its way through DC Superior court, I have turned to WEAVE for support again and again. When my legal bills crossed the $50,000 threshold and I lost my job (due in part to time missed at work because of hearings and my inability to travel for work due to custody issues), I turned to WEAVE for mental health support and again they came through with 1 year of counseling with an amazing social worker who really understands my situation and the cycle of violence.<br /><br />Without the holistic and need-blind services of WEAVE, I don't honestly know if I'd be alive today. The journey is hard and long and it continues, but I believe WEAVE's services have delivered me to the starting line in my own life. My life and my son's happiness are daily celebrations of Domestic Violence Awareness and the services WEAVE provides to this community.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-37496802057173714482010-09-02T22:16:00.000-07:002010-10-23T09:25:47.382-07:00<h1>The Law of Attraction and third world atrocities</h1><br /><b><i>On Rape as a Weapon of War, my Messy Divorce, and How Choosing to Take Responsibility for your Thoughts Makes Both of These Things Better.</b></i><br /><br />I’m one of those “Twitter” people. I can’t seem to stop tweeting my every move – From coffee with a colleague to my opinions on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/noonproposition8">Prop 8</a> – it’s all out there and I love it. So when I have a particularly clear or delicious though, you know I’m going to condense it into 140 characters and tweet it out.<br /><br />Recently, I tweeted this thought:<br /><br>“Believe it or not, neither the number on the scale nor your bank balance are inherently good or bad. You impose meaning w/ your thoughts.”<br /><br /><br />I wrote this just after I looked at my bank balance and thought: “Perfect!” as I wrote a check for $6,542, virtually emptying my savings account. And then I hopped on the scale and thought “253 pounds, Perfect!” exactly where I want to be today.<br /><br />And then, I couldn’t stop laughing. I mean it was like I was sucking down helium balloons. Ask 10 strangers on the street and I’m pretty sure they would say 253 pounds is not a good amount to weight and $0 is not a good balance for a savings account. But for me, I loved it and I was empowered and invigorated by both numbers.<br /><br />I love my weight right now because it provides the cleanest, clearest way I can communicate with myself at a time it’s extremely important I listen to myself. I am taking lots of risks and part of how I know if I am heading in the right direction is by the direction of my weight. As I move closer to my most authentic self, my body seems to be miraculously gravitating to a lower natural weight. I’m not stressed, not dieting, and I have never felt better or more beautiful.<br /><br />When I wrote the check I was smiling. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend sixty-five hundred plus dollars and I LOVED that I could write that check and pay that bill. I felt lucky to be able to solve a problem by writing a check and I felt confident that money will continue to come to me and my savings account will be plenty full when I next need it. Money has always been easy for me.<br /><br />Of course I didn’t say all of this on Twitter. I just quietly made the observation and moved on with my day. But that simple post got 36 comments. It was like a <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/08/11/AR2010081106190_2.html">Washington Post article about Michelle Rhee</a><br /><br />Here was one comment: <br /><br />“So if you're penniless and massively underweight due to malnutrition, you can just think your way out of it?”<br /><br />I thought about it and said: “In a way… you can: if you think "I'm penniless," for instance, you'll continue to be. If you can find ways you aren't penniless... Ways you are rich... And focus on them, it's CRAZY but you actually create more richness. Now granted... if your situation is so dire - you are in Sudan in a refugee camp - it's going to be REALLY hard to believe there's a way out. But it happens. Look at Super Model and former Sudanese refugee <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Alek-Sudanese-Refugee-International-Supermodel/dp/0061243310">Alek Wek</a> for instance. Point is whether you think you’re penniless or you don't, you’re right. What you dwell on, you create more of.”<br /><br />And that opened up Pandora’s Box on “The Law of Attraction” and third world atrocities. I did this too when I first started with <a href="http://www.brookecastillo.com/">coaching with Brooke Castillo</a>. She’s say some version of – whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right. And I’d come up with 625 extreme examples to hold up as exceptions to the rule.<br /><br />Now if you know Ms. Castillo you know that wouldn’t cause her to back down for a second, so she hung with me – through each raped, pregnant 12 year old; genitally mutilated 9 year old; and fire-wood-gathering Sudanese refugee. It’s not the easiest way to learn the law of attraction. So much better to manifest a cup of coffee and take it from there. But I didn’t want to learn the law of attraction, I wanted to analytically prove it wrong. And what I attracted were more analytical arguments about other things being wrong. But hey, if you are like me, and you like to take the long way home and understand how the law of attraction works in the most dire circumstances before you go applying it to your own life, you might be interested in my answer to this question I got in response to my tweet:<br /><br />“Could you really tell someone who, for example, has had their limbs chopped off with a machete and been raped by <a href="http://www.charlestaylortrial.org/2008/10/20/1635/">Charles Taylor</a>'s crew that all they need to succeed is a positive outlook? Surely that's just an excuse not to help other people? (They don't have a positive outlook, they don't deserve aid.)”<br /><br />Actually what I would say everyone in that position 100% deserves aid. But sadly there usually isn't enough to go around. I would say the more positive you are that you are your family will get the help you need the more likely it will happen? Why? If you think - this is horrible no one will ever help me you are likely to curl up in a dark corner and die. But if you can get your head to the place where you say 'F them! I am going to survive... You, scream, crawl, beg, or otherwise position yourself somewhere you'll get help. Same circumstance. Different thoughts. Different results.<br /><br />For decades I have been trying to strategically and tactically with great strength, force, and will trying to rearrange circumstances... I mean, I've gone to Herculean lengths. And I'm really good at it.... AND ... mercifully... I am not even at the will of Charles Taylor and his men. But it still was not getting me the results I wanted. When I was able to change what I made the circumstances themselves mean to me, for me, and by me - with no change at all to the circumstances... I got what I wanted.<br /><br />I have been through a multi-year divorce which has cost me about tens of thousands of dollars and has been going on for years. The divorce has been high in angst and drama. For a long time I made this circumstance mean something horrible - like wrong was done to me and I needed to tell everyone the details - I needed to make it right... I needed to get justice... whatever - I made it mean a lot of things... but when I changed the meaning, the entire circumstance seemed to change... Still in the divorce so no change in circumstance there... but once I turned the thought from <br /><br />"This isn't fair and is driving me to the poor house." to "I already have what I want and it's just a matter of time until the lose ends are tied up." (but equally true by the way) the fact I have to go to court every once in a while became more of a hobby than a chip on my shoulder.<br /><br />And now here's the funny thing... once I stopped being obsessed by how this experience was ruining my life (dramatic tone intentional) I stopped calling up my lawyer with new strategies and tactics... SO MATERIALLY something DID change... my monthly bills are going down because I changed my thought. Oh and another thing changed.... my ex and I have spent more time together and while I am not signing up to get remarried it was nice to take our kid to school together on the first day without any drama.<br /><br />I want to be clear, <a href="http://letters.salon.com/mwt/feature/2007/03/05/the_secret/permalink/07a9c1af744b9a192db2392c52e5078c.html">this isn't about blaming the victim </a> - a circumstance is just that - a circumstance. Certainly I have a lot of empathy for someone raped under the Charles Taylor regime but I can't change that someone was raped. I do know what can change by changing your thoughts is that tomorrow can be a better day.<br /><br />I'm not trying to convince at all... but if you are up for it - try this wacky experience the next time you have a negative feeling about something. Let's say you have to go to a meeting you don't want to go to. The circumstance is ... 'there is a meeting'. Now you add on this thought: "I have to go and I don't want to". Ultimately that's not true, even if there was a gun to your head you could choose to go rather than risk having your head blown off or you could choose not to go and see if you get shot. If you can find an equally true thought that is an upgrade - not necessarily positive... but just change "I have to go to this meeting and I don't want to" to "I'm choosing to go to this meeting so I guess I do want to be there." and if you can really OWN and BELIEVE the upgraded though... See how it changes the circumstance for you. It's nutty, but I guarantee the results will blow you away. It works every time.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-33115595542200909792010-08-24T10:06:00.000-07:002010-10-23T09:26:24.839-07:00<h2>I hit my goal weight!!!</h2><br /><br />I woke up Sunday morning happier than I have ever been in my entire life. I feel like I am deeply in love with the PERFECT person for me and today I realized why. I HIT MY GOAL WEIGHT!! I have struggled so hard and so long with my weight and the battle is over! Seriously I never thought I'd reach this point but I know now that every diet, every bad day, every pair of pants that made me want to crawl into bed, and every scale or mirror that I accused of being "mean" have all lead me to this perfect point.<br /><br />I have been made whole. I have MADE MYSELF whole. There is nothing left to fix. It's like when you start dating someone and the person you are dating seems perfect. You can't find a flaw - can't imagine a reason you'll ever break up. And you love every second you spend together, treasuring it like a gift from the Gods. That's how I feel about me.<br /><br />I don't need to read another book. I don't need to start another diet. I don't need to cry another tear. I have received the gift of myself and I am not going to waste another second. I want to stay up all night on the phone with me. I want to stare lovingly at pictures of myself. I am squeezing every last drop of love into my own arms and now I can only see the perfection.<br /><br />Every check I write is payable to me (no matter what it says on the "To" line)! Every bit of beauty I notice in others - my stunning mom, gorgeous sisters, friends, roommates, etc - I notice it's all my own beauty. When I meet someone who is smart - I am noticing I am smart. When I see someone (Sally, Heidi!) who is fit and strong and who loves there body - I realize I am fit and strong and I love my body.<br /><br />And this week - I just can't stop seeing perfection everywhere. Nothing needs to be fixed. I can relax in gratitude and joy. The struggle was worth it. It brought me here. There is no where I'd rather be.<br /><br />But you are wondering about my goal weight? Well it's the weight I am right now of course, how could it ever be anything else?<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-15694634896947817172010-08-09T23:21:00.000-07:002010-08-13T21:56:47.494-07:00<h2>100 pounds and a stammer<br /></h2>I don’t remember a day in my life when I wasn’t fat. At 2, I remember hearing adults making wagers on how old I’d be when I'd lose my baby fat. At 9, I remember my grandfather being extremely upset that his calling me “Solid” didn’t offend me. I like the idea of being Solid. What was the alternative? Liquid? He kept explaining it was an insult and jiggled my thighs to make sure I got it. I did.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/TGDxDee9ABI/AAAAAAAAA-o/jB6gJIMinoI/s1600/plates.jog.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 153px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/TGDxDee9ABI/AAAAAAAAA-o/jB6gJIMinoI/s320/plates.jog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503663786671538194" border="0" /></a>At 11, I remember being weighed in front of my gym class and feeling like I would die on the spot. I bought my first pair of jeans in an adult size that year – it was a size 9. That was the smallest size I ever was. I didn’t stay in it long and I have never revisited it even at my lowest post-diet weights. In high school, I was a size 12 or 14 and on my 16th birthday I weighed 180 pounds. At 19, I went on my first diet and I lost 100 pounds. In the 18 years since my first diet, I have lost 70-100 pounds 4 times.<br /><br />My extra weight has been my constant companion, my nemesis, my evil twin, my nightmare. I had good grades, good friends, great jobs, a fun life, AND an extra 100 plus pounds dragging me down. I’ve theorized this extra weight was an attempt at self-sabotage (I’ve got it too good?); of survivor guilt (past life on the Titanic?); to keep people at a distance (why didn’t it work with my ex-husband?) I’ve used logic, extreme exercise, dieting, lifestyle changes, vegetarianism, raw foods, fasting, and a million other things to attack this monster, but each time I lose the weight but not the monster. And I gain the weight back – and then some!<br /><br />I thought I read everything there was to read on diets, weight loss, and obesity – from medical and policy documents – self help to psychology reviews; but tonight I read a story about a guy with a speech impediment that really hit home.<br /><br />“I wish I could phone up my thirteen year-old self and tell him that there is no magic wand solution,” wrote 2010 Man Booker Prize finalist David Mitchell (The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet (Hodder & Stoughton - Sceptre)). “Here is my big idea,” he continues “stop trying to kill your stammer…Stop seeing it as an enemy to be vanquished: it is an integral part of the process of how you think, perceive other, and process language, and no good ever came of hating an integral part of yourself.”<br /><br />I’ve heard this general message before… “Love yourself. Love your body.” But never in this way.<br /><br />“Quite probably,” explains Mitchell “if I could have produced unbroken, effortless sentences like my secretly-envied class-mates, I would never have felt the need to write them down, nor become a writer.”<br /><br />Did his Booker Prize recognition come, in some way, because he is a stammerer? If so, how could he possibly not feel some gratitude towards the stammer?<br /><br />Now if I had a choice between being fat or having a stammer, I’d take the speech impediment any day of the week because I don’t feel like society makes big judgments about people with stammers and stutters like they do when you are fat…but OH the evidence Mr. Mitchell produces to dismiss this argument.<br /><br />Like me, Mitchell was also constantly dismayed at the depth of his efforts and the lack of results. No amount of hard work or will power was able to permanently dislodge the demon. Part of the reason for people being dismissive is what Mitchell calls “The Will-Power Myth.”<br /><br />“This myth cost me angry years of believing that I stammered because I wasn’t trying hard enough not to stammer…Like a force field, the more will-power you throw at it, the stronger it gets.”<br /><br />So how could I make my monster into a friend? How could I see the goodness of my dragon and not feel the fire on my neck? Well, to start I guess can admit having extra weight is integral to who I am. Since I have always been overweight – even at my thinnest – there is no way I could be me without having had it as my constant companion. The way I think, perceive others, and interpret the body has all been influenced by my weight.<br /><br />When you are a stammerer – apparently – you can foresee seconds before you say a word, that it’s coming up… “Oh no!" you might think. "The next sentence is going to have a word that starts with the letter S and I always stutter on that letter!”<br /><br />When you are fat you learn how to foresee not just seconds, but weeks! How you ask? Well there are embarrassing moments when your body is oversized that you might never guess as a thin or otherwise normally weighted person. I can smell, for instance, a friendship that is likely to include frequent shopping or being in situations where strip poker or skinny dipping is going to be suggested. Now that sense has helped me avoid being uncomfortable; but it has also helped me succeed in marketing because I can play situations out much further than most people – I think they lose interest because they haven’t been motivated to keep playing it out like I have.<br /><br />When I set up my life to avoid embarrassing moments caused by my weight – it turns out I had a lot of free time to spend in libraries and coffee shops. I find writing fairly effortless and academic research 100 times more enjoyable than a game of touch football. Give me a choice between writing a 20 page paper and going to a rave – I’ll take the paper… ANY day of the week. In part due to my obesity, I have become a voracious reader, a pretty good writer, and an amazing conversationalist. Believe me when I say -- You want me in your book group!<br /><br />Tonight there is a stunningly gorgeous, interesting, and intelligent professional dancer in my house. I host dancers from a local studio that need a place to stay while they create transcendent art. And do you know why I host? Well, I think a big part of it is generosity. I am a ridiculously open and generous person and that comes from my learned ability to create social situations where I can’t be rejected because of my weight. Friends were never a big part of my parents or sister’s lives – but to me they are central. I have so many rich, deep, and breathtaking friendships and I am so grateful for them. I have close friends in San Francisco, Kazakhstan, England, Spain, Argentina, Australia and beyond. My life is a thick, international tapestry that literally can’t be duplicated.<br /><br />I have lived most of my life in fear I would be exposed for being fat – which is so ironic of course because it’s pretty hard to cover up when you are over 100 pounds overweight; and yet living in that fear while being unwilling to turn my back on life has turned me into an incredibly resilient person. I am not afraid to speak in public because I walk in public every day – which to me is much scarier.<br /><br />People are afraid to speak in public because they think they might say something stupid? God! That’s the least of my worries… I face the “death” of public speaking every day by exposing my fat body when I leave my house. And on most days – I face death and survive. On the few occasions I have metaphorically died, I am quickly resurrected. I have learned to pick myself up even when I am rejected or scorned.<br /><br />I have spent more time in my 20s and 30s working on my spirituality, my body and my soul then most people my age have to. Many people start learning this stuff when they are much older and may feel they have lost time. This huge thing (pun intended) I’ve had to deal with has taught me about living in the moment, creating my reality with my thoughts, goal setting, and many other tools of self-care – some as basic as diet and nutrition – I’m an expert on both. This work has turned me into one of my favorite people. I love time alone with myself. I love learning about myself and I have made serious emotional and time investments into my own growth. I am hopeful the work I have done will be able to help others.<br /><br />Being fat has given me the need to prove myself and my worth as it has so often made me feel worthless. In my attempts to prove myself I have built a great career, bought 3 wonderful homes, and earned 3 lofty degrees. I’ve read, I’ve written, I’ve achieved. I’ve had my own company since 1994. My own house since 2000 and my own doctorate since 2006. I’ve also earned a share of medals and certificates from triathlons and other athletic competitions.<br /><br />My ability to plan, my generosity, my resilience, my tool chest of tools for connecting to myself and my motivation for success are all integral parts of myself that I love. I can strive to be a non-fat obese person but I can never not be fat. My fatness isn’t actually good or bad, it’s just me.<br /><br />As Mitchell says: “Just as you live somewhere, you have to be someone, and as long as your defects, limitations, and handicaps aren’t alienating friends, why shouldn’t they be as valid a set of determinants for who you are and what your vocation is as your gifts?”<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-53291038249402152002010-08-02T21:24:00.000-07:002010-08-03T14:26:25.466-07:00<h2>Why I Support Adrian Fenty for Mayor</h2>A friend on Twitter whose opinion I respect tremendously tweeted something tonight that surprised me:<br /><br /><span class="status-body"><span class="status-content"><a href="http://www.twitter.com/roopikarisam"><strong></strong></a><strong><a class="tweet-url screen-name">roopikarisam</a></strong>: Disappointed that the Washington Post endorsed<a href="http://www.twitter.com/fenty2010"> @Fenty2010</a> </span></span><span class="status-body"><span class="status-content">not <a href="http://www.twitter.com/grayformayor">@</a><a class="tweet-url username" href="http://www.twitter.com/grayformayor" rel="nofollow">grayformayor</a>. Did they miss last week's firing of 200+ DCPS teachers?!</span><br /><br /></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/TFecpnICZJI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/X4nFyTVKgTo/s1600/oneDay_fall07_cover1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501037708547613842" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 200px; height: 138px;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/TFecpnICZJI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/X4nFyTVKgTo/s200/oneDay_fall07_cover1.jpg" border="0" /></a>I've talked to lots of teachers (and parents) about the recent firings of teachers rated Fair or Poor. Generally teachers say - yes there may be some bad teachers - heck - maybe even all 241 teachers were bad - but is the process *fair*? Where as parents say - get the bad teachers out FAST and if that means we lose a few good ones in the process - that sucks, but I know people at my private sector job that were great that got fired and shouldn't have - sometimes life isn't fair but I want my kid to have the best shot.<br /><br />And there is the heart of the matter.... are we ... or rather... is THE STATE ...<br />A) in the business of education to provide lots of jobs that set the standard for fair labor practices or<br />B) to provide the most efficient, high quality education it can provide.<br /><br />As a mom - I vote B.<br /><br />I've watched as school superintendent after school superintendent failed to improve outcomes in DC schools. It seemed the more experience they had, the slower they would move and the more careful they would be.<br /><br />Rhee isn't careful - she's bullish - and she's bullish about my son's education. I was a public school kid and as a single mom I can't afford private school but I make far too much to get financial aid. I need the public schools to work and Michelle Rhee has proven to me that she will put her neck on the line to give my son - to give Jesse - the best chance at having a good education in the public system. Will it take me being a helicopter mom and fighting for the best teachers and the best schools - absolutely! But that is much easier to do when the chancellor and I are on the same page. No BS. Bad teachers go. Sorry.<br /><br />This election is not - as <a href="http://www.twitter.com/roopikarisam">@roopikarisam</a> correctly observed - about Fenty and Gray - it's about Rhee or not... Gray wins... Rhee is replaced and even if the replacement is brilliant - it still means my kid loses as that new person comes up to speed.<br /><br />Rhee is getting quantifiable results. Losing her would put us right back at the bottom of the stack and it will show that accountability doesn't hold a candle to tenure and frankly that is not what I want Jesse to learn.<br /><br />I drive around DC and I see lots of yard signs - Fenty/ Gray/Fenty/Gray. This city is split! But for once it's not split between blacks and whites - it's split between parents and non-parents. Non parents proudly put their Gray sign out declaring a) I am sick of so much time and energy going to the schools and b) Why do they keep arrogantly firing hard working people? Parents put them out earnest begging for another 4 years to see if Rhee can turn the schools all the way around as she appears to be doing. All politics is personal and if I didn't have a kid in the public school system maybe I'd get on my pro-labor high horse but I do have a kid and I hope people without kids realize how important turning the DC schools around is for them too.<br /><br />Anyway that's my two cents. I've asked the soon-to-be Dr. Risam for her input as well as her arguments are always intelligent and illuminating!<br /><br />More: <a href="http://bit.ly/fentyrhee2">http://bit.ly/fentyrhee2</a><b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-6487945078078569122010-06-23T23:40:00.000-07:002011-05-05T19:22:15.966-07:00<h1>How is cutting like eating?</h1>I had a bad day at work. Everything I hate about myself was front and center and seemed to spiral out of control. There are about 20 people I work with on the account I am assigned to and I am really not sure of my role, my responsibilities, or the rules. I also have at least one if not three of what Carlos Castaneda called “petty tyrants.” It’s essentially a snake pit and I was hired – I thought – to clean it up. Now I am not so sure. I apply logic, I come up with solutions, and I am slammed at every turn. By my petty tyrants and by my “friends” I keep being over turned. I make a decision, present it, get buy in, and once I try to DO it, it’s like all my support erodes. I go to a supervisor for support, think I have it, and then again it’s undone.<br /><br />As the day wore on – and got worse and worse – the stress and frustration built in me. I tried to “feel” how this stress manifested in my body. My toes, fingers, and the top of my head were tingling and numb. The sockets of my eyes were tender and throbbing. My jaw was clenched. My ears were ringing and I could feel the small bones in my ears on fire.<br /><br />My throat was tight and there was a lump in my throat like I was going to cry/throw up/or both. It felt like there was an elephant sitting on my chest. I couldn’t catch my breath. My heart was pounding. My stomach was churning and there was a soreness in my hips and knees as if I was squeezing all the muscles supporting each joint. My stomach is burning and I feel the acid churning and have a heartburn like sensation. Oh, and I had a headache. Still have it as I type. I feel physically awful.<br /><br />Stopping the pain is simple. I have an on off switch in my mouth. Well, it’s more of a dimmer switch. When I bit my lip – hard – it stops. When I think about how I feel or what I should do or how I can fix the situation it feels so bit I can’t even process it. I think a couple words or phrases and then I am overwhelmed with one thought… cutting. I want to take a dull knife and carve the top of my lower arm. Not slit my wrists mind you, I just want to cause enough pain in my arm to take away the overwhelming, vomit inducing anxiety of this day.<br /><br />I DON’T cut myself because I know if I did that would lead to much bigger vomit inducing anxiety so I do 2 things that feel safe. I bite my lip. Hard. And I itch every little tickle MUCH harder than necessary. When I itch or bite it is nearly orgasmic. I am released. Free. I bite harder to squeeze more relief, but it stops works. And so… I eat. When I eat, my tongue is numb. I try to taste the food but I can’t. In the moment I swallow I can’t feel the need to vomit or cry because the tight lump in my throat relaxes. But then the self hate sets in for eating when I am not hungry. For not taking care of myself. For abusing myself with food.<br /><br />I search for solutions but my head is buzzing. I want to rip my eyeballs out. I check my email, facebook, twitter, I read people magazine, turn on the TV, play with Jesse, anything to distract myself. Anything not to feel like awfulness. I want it to stop but I feel powerless.<br /><br />As I am writing this I realize the reason my house is clean. The reason I get As on my papers. The reason I turn my assignments in early. I am not a brown noser as I have been accused. I was doing this work to avoid this horrible feeling. But in my current job I can’t avoid the feeling. In my divorce I can’t avoid the feeling. And what I want is to create a life where I never have to feel these feelings. A life when I don’t have to work on a team. A life where I don’t have to depend on other people or be out of control. I want assignments where I can excel because I am in charge of the output and the results are measured on numbers and logic not emotions and relationships.<br /><br />I had a boss once who called me transactional and it’s true. I see relationships as an exchange. I give you $5. Do you give me $5 worth of value? If not, I move on. What’s insane about my job is the retainer is $60K a month and my own fee is $10K a month but I am not giving $10K in value and I feel I NEED to. That’s what I would expect. Nothing else makes logical sense.<br /><br />I talked to a friend about my day and she said, and I know she is right, that I created a lot of the days work drama. And I did. I couldn't sit with the account being unclear. I needed to point out every single problem and get them addressed immediately. and when I say I needed to, I mean, I had no sense I had any control over my need to discuss and argue about those things even though I knew I was creating career limiting decisions.<br /><br />Even though I knew this could get me fired from a job I need. Even though I knew this urge has gotten me fired before. I promised myself I wouldn't complain and argue and point out what needed to be done to fix the situation and yet I KEPT doing it. Making promises to myself and breaking them just like with food. I promise myself I won't finish the sandwich or eat the chips or whatever, and I break those promises over and over.<br /><br />My friend gave me examples of how she ignores things at work that she sees and kinda would like fixed. And I know she is right - but I don't want to be that kind of "Not my job" type of person. I want to take everything on and fix everything and make it right. I don't want to live with ambiguity or lack of clarity. And it's more than not wanting to. I can't just make a decision not to say something just like I can't make a decision not to eat the bag of chips. I know it's not out of my control but it sure as hell feels like it is.<br /><br />Biting my lip. Itching too hard. Eating too much. Thinking about cutting. They are all ways I try to escape the feeling of being out of control which is so painful I just don’t feel I am strong enough to tolerate it. If I were - if there was some book - some prayer - some behavioral technique to let me endure the pain instead of trying to escape it, I think I would have found it by now. I have been looking SO hard and for so long.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-89879823400579258162010-05-06T08:38:00.000-07:002010-05-06T08:55:17.667-07:00<h2> Vote for WEAVE - Make A Donation without Spending a Dime</h2><br /><br />I just voted for the charity 'Women Empowered Against Violence' to help their chances of receiving $1 from every<a href="http://www.facebook.com/lilithfairtour?v=app_113475738667907"> 2010 Lilith Music Festival concert ticket</a> sale in Washington, DC - Aug. 3.<br /><br />As many of you know, I full credit WEAVE with saving my life. Not only did they help me figure out how to get away from my abuser, but they have continued to support me with the most amazing social worker who I am seeing weekly throughout the legal processes associated with my situation at no cost.<br /><br />The no cost part is key because I am spending tens of thousands on my lawyer! Yet again, WEAVE was there for me when I needed them. I am so grateful to my friends and readers who have donated to WEAVE at my urging in the past. There are so many organizations and needs out there but WEAVE is very special and here is a way to help that won't cost you a dine.<br /><br />It's a little complicated so please spread the word linking back to this post for more detailed instructions.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />1. Become a fan of Lilith Fare on Facebook by visiting <a href="http://www.facebook.com/lilithfairtour?v=app_113475738667907">http://www.facebook.com/lilithfairtour?v=app_113475738667907</a> and clicking the LIKE button.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2. Selection Washington DC Aug. 3 from the list of cities.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. Select Women Empowered Against Violence from the list of charities.</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/S-LlkQ5-y7I/AAAAAAAAA90/oUOx5CmwpYk/s1600/lilith.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/S-LlkQ5-y7I/AAAAAAAAA90/oUOx5CmwpYk/s320/lilith.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468185308757412786" border="0" /></a><br /><br />If WEAVE gets the most votes of the 5 groups in Washington DC, they will get $1 of every DC ticket sale! It's money desperately needed by WEAVE so that other women like me can escape violence situations and get the legal and emotional help they need.<br /><br />Please join me in <a href="http://www.facebook.com/lilithfairtour?v=app_113475738667907">voting</a> for a great cause!<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-14828388752073424672010-04-20T21:42:00.000-07:002010-06-15T11:18:40.752-07:00<h2>My Coach, Brooke Castillo in Washington DC this Summer!<br /></h2>For years I've been talking about <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6GSj6T3afk">Brooke Castillo</a> - my life coach since 2006 and one of the most amazing people I have ever met in my life. Brooke's a certified North Star life coach and she was trained by Oprah's life coach, Martha Beck. Brooke developed this incredible system which she calls <a href="http://www.selfcoaching101.com/">self coaching</a> which I use all the time when I am facing a challenge, if I am stuck, or need to change my perspective on a situation.<br /><br />I've gone to Brooke's seminars in Lake Tahoe the last couple years and come back with a new perspective and an energy that's unstoppable. The first year I attended, I came back with a commitment to do a triathlon -- I did 4! The second year I was focused on being stuck in my career and within 30 days of returning from the seminar I got a promotions and a $10,000 raise. Within 6 months, I got a new job with another title jump and a $50,000 salary increase - during a recession! Both accomplishments were direct results of the work I did with Brooke in the few short days I participated in her seminars.<br /><br />Brooke's based out of California and I think all of her live events have been out West. Traveling is a challenge for me now so I figured my days of going to Brooke's seminars had ended, but then I got an idea, what if she did a seminar here, at my house??<br /><br />And so, in August, Brooke is coming to Washington DC and I'd like to invite you to participate in a seminar that I guarantee will take you to the next level. Brooke's techniques are creative, actionable, and NOT boring. A day with Brooke is a THOUGHT BOOTCAMP!<br /><br />Check out this video about her style:<object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" id="viddler" width="437" height="311"><param name="movie" value="http://www.viddler.com/simple_on_site/4faa18b3"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="flashvars" value="fake=1"><embed src="http://www.viddler.com/simple_on_site/4faa18b3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="fake=1" name="viddler" width="437" height="311"></embed></object><br /><br />Brooke is coming for 2 days (a Saturday and a Sunday), August 14th and 15th and the sessions will last about 8 hours each day. You can come for 1 or both days depending on your budget and schedule. There will be lunch snacks and drinks included in the price. The cost is $250 for 1 day or $399 for both. I'm hoping for a small group so you'll get lots of personal as well as group coaching from Brooke who charges $500+ hour so it will be a great value.<br /><br />In addition, attendees will be asked to come with a "house gift". The House Gift is your payment to me for hosting this event and here's my price: A pledge or commitment of time, money or other resources for how you will make the world a better place in the next 12 months. It can be as big or small as you want but you will be held accountable for your pledge. The idea of a house gift is based on the Clinton Foundation's program copied, most recently, by Barack Obama at the Nuclear Summit in DC where he required leaders who attended to come with House Gifts. For example, India declared that it will build a center to promote nuclear security. Ukraine, Mexico, Chile, Kazakhstan, Vietnam and Canada agreed to dispose of hundreds of pounds of highly enriched uranium used in civilian facilities. etc etc. These pledges are so powerful because you will make your pledge in front of the group and the group will celebrate when you meet your commitment.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Who should come?</span><br /><br /><ul><li> Anyone who is stuck in anything - a job, a relationship, your health</li><li> Anyone who needs a turnaround or a breakthrough</li><li> Anyone with a BIG problem - a problem that seems insurmountable or exhausting</li><li> Anyone who secretly thinks they are supposed to be doing more with their life</li><li> Anyone who is looking for a goal or a passion and just feels blah</li><li> Anyone who feels like they are running out of time or are in a rush to: lose weight, get married, start a business, have a baby, etc.</li></ul><span style="font-weight: bold;">What you'll get out of the event?</span><br /><br /><ul><li> A framework for motivating yourself even when it seems impossible.</li><li> A set of tools to reframe your past, present and most importantly, your future.</li><li> A no-nonsense, plain spoken, down to earth guide to how to create the future you want - how to live the law of attraction.</li><li> Aching sides from belly laughs.</li><li> New and deeper friendships.</li><li> Hope.</li></ul><br /><br />This is going to be a small group (no more than 10 people per day) so if you are interested, let me know ASAP so I can save you a seat. I'll be linking a form here soon! It's going to be at my house which is in Washington DC near metro and the train and equidistant from Dulles, National, and BWI airports.<br /><br />RSVP to me directly at becomingjourney@gmail.com<br /><br />So excited!<br />Angela<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-1634819607710818782010-03-26T04:06:00.000-07:002010-06-15T11:18:54.095-07:00<h2>The Changing Nature of Birthdays</h2><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/S6yVcdp4CQI/AAAAAAAAA9s/_banoMWEkQQ/s1600/birthday.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/S6yVcdp4CQI/AAAAAAAAA9s/_banoMWEkQQ/s200/birthday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452897565067970818" border="0" /></a>I love birthdays. Particularly mine. My birthday always feels like the beginning of spring (and not just because it's on <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/learning/general/onthisday/index.html">March 26th</a>!). There is all the hope and promise of a new year in the air and opportunities seem boundless. For me, it's like getting a second crack at a New Year's Resolution.<br /><br />My birthday is also usually during or around LENT and while I am not Catholic anymore, I continued to enjoy taking a 40 day break from something to help me realign my priorities. In the past I have given up sugar, milk, wheat, <a href="http://www.thebestofrawfood.com/">cooked foods</a> and even premarital sex for LENT and I found the experience really awakening. At the end of 40 days (usually right around my birthday) I set what <a href="http://marthabeck.com/">Martha Beck</a> would call a wildly impossible goal -- <a href="http://www.egs.edu/">get a phD</a>, start a theatre company, travel to 4 countries in 12 months, get married, <a href="http://jessemalhotra.isreallyawesome.com/">get pregnant</a>, get a promotion, buy a house, complete a triathlon.<br /><br />Fueled by my Lenten sacrifice and the accompanying hope that goes with Spring and my birthday, I'd just start living as if those goals would be met. As if it were obvious. Almost like I'd already reached the goal. And then <span style="font-style: italic;">viola!</span> another feather for my oft decorated cap!<br /><br />This year though has felt different. I've been worn down emotionally and financially by a long, protracted legal battle and I'm too exhausted to think up goals. This year, for my birthday, I don't want to plan and execute my next accomplishment, I want to nap. And I don't mean, curl up with a <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=Ydh7PwAACAAJ&dq=inauthor:Wally+inauthor:Lamb&hl=en&ei=zpusS92oMcWblgf67pyQAQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=4&ved=0CEoQ6AEwAw">Wally Lamb</a> book and a mocha latte; I mean ball up an old, smelly sweatshirt and crash on the first available horizontal surface.<br /><br />My life's motto is "The More You Do. The More You Do" and this lack of interest in "doing" is catching me off guard. But yesterday a friend <a href="http://bit.ly/57zp9n">wrote a blog post about balance</a> that made me sit back and reconsider. Maybe this "not doing" is an act of subversion for my system. Maybe this is the most incredible thing I could do this year. Maybe this year I need more of less. And maybe that's okay. Fred wrote: "If we stay too long in an unbalanced situation, the universe acts to restore balance. It throws us to the other side: our health may suffer; our lives may change."<br /><br />So this year LENT came to me. I didn't need to actively pick something to give up to represent a metaphorical Jesus metaphorically suffering. The suffering came right to my doorstep. The universe has indeed thrown me to the other side. But I'm not looking away. I'm putting the coffee on and inviting Suffering over to my birthday party. I needed a little balance in my life and Mr. Suffering may look like a party-pooper but he comes bearing a gift from the Gods. Mr. Suffering has reminded me that life is not a race or a contest... it's a journey. And a journey requires just the right balance of planning, excitement and activity with spontaneity, relaxation and just plain ol' doing nothing.<br /><br />And it turns out doing nothing is just fine with me.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-57993037994701579542009-12-16T09:19:00.000-08:002009-12-16T09:27:15.688-08:00<h2> I'm Starting a Kiva Microlending Team </h2><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.kiva.org/team/angelas_angels"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SykYLgJDecI/AAAAAAAAA9k/DS-dkfS_h0Q/s200/angel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415886612775270850" border="0" /></a>A few years ago I decided instead of gift cards or trinkets, that I would give people a $25 <a href="http://www.kiva.org/team/angelas_angels">Kiva credit</a> to make a microloan for Christmas. I gave a credit to myself as well :-). I had heard of microlending group Kiva on Oprah of all place but was tuned in to microlending when I did a play that featured Noble Peace Prize winner and Microlending Father Mohammed Yunis.<br /><br />Honestly, back in December 2007 I made a loan and haven’t thought about Kiva a whole lot since. About a year and a half later my loan was paid back in full and I could donate again… but somehow, I never got around to it, until today.<br /><br />I’d love to give more this Christmas, but frankly I have been donating far too much to lawyers lately and just don’t have the cash to spare. So I went back to Kiva to get a little donation fix with my $25 credit. I made a loan to a mom in El Salvador who needed to buy staples to stock her grocery store. I like the idea of giving to grocery stores because (as people in certain parts of DC know all too well) having a well-stocked grocery store near your home really gives a certain sense of calm and peace that basic needs can be met. A grocery store really serves the whole community.<br /><br />Anyway, when I logged back in I noticed something truly magical. Of the 10 gifts I gave, 9 people made loans. And of the $250 I spent on the gift certificates... Ready for this? Over 25 loans have been made!! Those 10 gifts were more than doubled. The loans were paid back and re-gifted over and over. WOW! Even more interesting, I loved seeing where my friends gave because their choices were so reflective of them as people.<br /><br /><ul><li>My foodie friend Heidi gave to a restaurant in Uganda. Her sister lives part of the year in Uganda and god knows if Heidi can give to a restaurant she will!</li><li>Ever-practical Evan gave to an auto repair shop in Lebanon. There aren’t many men to give to on Kiva but he found one! And having seen Evan’s last car, I know he knows the power of a good mechanic.</li><li>My friend Jenny who has not 1, but 2 smart phones gave to a cell phone store in Paraguay. How perfect!</li><li>My old boss Susan's funky, artsy, college-aged daughter (who has made about a dozen loans) gave to a consignment clothing store in Bosnia.</li><li>Ricky, whose got some African roots and a wife with pretty fabulous hair gave to a beauty salon in Ghana.</li><li>And Fred, my most generous and giving friend, has made loans on every continent but the one that touched me the most was a loan to a mom in Nicaragua who needed a loan to "buy construction materials to change the roof of her house, which is in bad condition." Having had a leaky ceiling for about a year, I know Fred knows what it means to have a solid roof over his head.</li></ul><br />All the loans have been repaid or are in process!<br /><br />Kiva has this new thing called “Teams” and just for fun, I'm starting one. I want to see what kind of an impact my initial Christmas gift in 2007 can make in the world. Thanking of lending through Kiva? Well then I want to recruit you to my lending team,<a href="http://www.kiva.org/team/angelas_angels"> Angela's Angels</a>. If you join my lending team, we can work together to alleviate poverty. Once you're a part of the team, you can choose to have a future loan on Kiva "count" towards our team's impact. The loan is still yours, and repayments still come to you - but you can also choose to have the loan show up in our team's collective portfolio, so our team's overall impact will grow!<br /><br />Merry Christmas<br /><br />Angela<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-33783113792754614042009-11-18T18:58:00.000-08:002010-08-04T07:57:58.391-07:00<h2>I was asked to speak at a WEAVE fundraiser. Here's what I said:</h2>Here is how I knew I wasn’t a victim of domestic violence: <ul><li>I’m educated on the topic. In college, I studied domestic violence and raised thousands of dollars for WEAVE, My Sister’s Place, and House of Ruth. </li><li>I am physically and emotionally very strong.</li><li>I have a PhD and a successful career.</li><li>After my husband threw a Brita pitcher full of water at my head, he told me it was no big deal.After my husband threatened to kill me, we went to a therapist and he explained to her and me that he’d never hurt me and never would.</li><li>When my husband had a fit of rage at another therapists office, our therapist told me it was time to leave because he had another couple coming in, but if I felt unsafe I should wait a few minutes in the bathroom for my husband to calm down.</li><li>When my husband slammed me against the wall, wouldn’t let me move, and yelled “Call the f’ing police you manipulative bitch”, our nanny and her husband were right there. (How bad could it have been?)</li><li>When I’d tell people I fear for my safety and that’s why I asked my husband to move out they would say (and I’m not kidding) “but you are so much bigger than him, you could just sit on him.” (I got that on at least 3 occasions).</li><li>When I went a lawyer about what to do next and she told me to go home and make nice because I didn’t really have a very good case. She said the best thing I could do was provoke him to hit me again and then call the police to improve my chances.</li></ul> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">I knew I wasn’t a victim of domestic violence, but I started checking terms on google like “How do I know if I am a victim of domestic violence” and “Signs of domestic violence.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">I knew I wasn’t a victim of domestic violence, but one cold, January day about a year ago, I dropped my son at daycare, pulled into a CVS parking lot and made a call that would change my life. I called WEAVE. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">“I have a crazy question,” I said, hearing the jangling in my voice as my vocal chords shattered like breakaway glass with every word. “I just, I’m not sure who to ask for, I just want to know if my, um, my situation qualifies… qualifies as domestic violence. I don’t think my situation counts but I’d just like to check, in case I’m missing something. Is there someone I could talk to?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">And there was.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">Later that night, I went to a free legal clinic. In the lobby there was a Japanese mother and daughter. The daughter was 9, very precocious and chatty. Her mom was beautifully dressed in designer clothes, didn’t speak a word of English, and didn’t have a US passport. Her daughter told me she went to boarding school in California. I wondered what might have brought them to this legal clinic. Next to me was a woman who reminded me of my mother. She had a wedding ring, short, salt and pepper hair, and looked like she worked on 17<sup>th</sup> and K. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">“This is who comes to a free legal clinic?” I thought. My laptop, blackberry and I somehow fit in.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">I waited a few minutes and then met with a lawyer named Tracy. I told her my situation and then asked my question… “Do I qualify? Does this count as domestic violence? I’ve talked to a lot of people and the jury is split but I’m sure I don’t I mean I’m sorry to have wasted your – ”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">She cut me off. “This is a guy that is all about control. Have you seen the cycle of violence?” I hadn’t and she showed me. “With guys like this, the good times can be good, and that’s why it’s easy to get confused.” She pulled out a huge photocopied book and plunked it on the crowded desk. “Here’s the statute she said. Read it yourself.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">How had I missed it?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">5 ½ years after he threw the pitcher. 2 ½ years after he threatened to tie me up, cover me with lighter fluid and set me and our house on fire. 3 months after he first physically hurt me. I was scooped up in the arms of WEAVE and carried to the starting line of my journey to wholeness. A journey in which I’ve had to give up everything I thought I knew about domestic violence and start over. The first step was letting go of the idea domestic violence happens to other people. The second, was fully accepting it happened to me. And if WEAVE weren’t around, I believe it would have escalated even further. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">And that’s why I’m here tonight, to share my story and to help make sure WEAVE will be there to give someone else the support and confidence they need to let go of what they know and start accepting what is.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">I am a victim of domestic violence, but I am not weak. WEAVE just helped me connect to my strength, get safe, and move on. I can’t imagine how much longer that would have taken without them and every day I look in my little boys eyes and know we are safe, I am grateful to all WEAVE has done for us.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-46219021673149749452009-09-23T12:48:00.000-07:002010-08-04T07:58:13.288-07:00<h1>WEAVE saved my life.<br /></h1><h1>Please help save WEAVE.</h1>I'm a successful executive. For years (2 to be exact) my husband threatened to kill me and to steal my child. Eventually he started physically hurting me as well. When I'd had enough, I went to a lawyer. The answers I got were long, complicated, expensive, and included a<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/Srp86sAlGNI/AAAAAAAAA84/iYfV6K7MpxY/s1600-h/2009_0923_WEAVE.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 75px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/Srp86sAlGNI/AAAAAAAAA84/iYfV6K7MpxY/s200/2009_0923_WEAVE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384753652162697426" border="0" /></a> lot of concessions I wasn't willing to make.<p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I remembered donating to WEAVE once as part of a production of the Vagina Monologues. I never thought I would need to call them. I didn't think WEAVE services were for people like me. Frankly, I wasn't aware that strong, smart successful people could be victims of domestic violence. It had become achingly clear, however, that I was wrong.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Shaking and hiding in my car in a CVS parking lot, I called WEAVE. That phone call was like grabbing on to a lifeboat when you are drowning in a wide ocean of fear and uncertainty.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In days, I had met with an incredibly helpful lawyer for free, had filed a restraining order at the court house, and got sole temporary custody of my son. A WEAVE volunteer sat with me through all the court proceedings and called me periodically to check in on me.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I felt guilty using their services because I felt like my abuse was so minor compared to the other people I met while working with WEAVE. But repeatedly they told me that I was a victim and they were determined to help -- that domestic abuse might come in degrees, but their services didn't.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I promised myself when it was all over I would donate $100 a month to WEAVE. It's not all over. I hadn't started donating. And now I am riddled with guilt for not supporting the organization that saved me sooner.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Please help save WEAVE.</p><p class="MsoNormal">For more - see this article in the Washington Post:<span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content"></span></span><a href="http://bit.ly/Dl0ip" class="tweet-url web" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"> http://bit.ly/Dl0ip</a><br /><o:p></o:p></p><b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-89197172683312472009-09-11T14:53:00.000-07:002010-06-15T11:20:02.966-07:00<h2 style="text-align: center;">Basil the Cat: RIP <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SqrIweR7GxI/AAAAAAAAA8w/nV4YjjUFmfs/s1600-h/2399_604326372994_5311726_37689163_540945_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SqrIweR7GxI/AAAAAAAAA8w/nV4YjjUFmfs/s200/2399_604326372994_5311726_37689163_540945_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380333439934995218" border="0" /></a></h2><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">5/23/2003 - 9/11/2009<br /></div><br />Basil was 16+ and had a full life. He lived in Alexandria, Washington DC, Connecticut, Arlington, and Reston. He was mostly an indoor cat but in the last year got to check off 'spend time outside' from his bucket list.<br /><br />He was not a huge fan of toddlers but was never aggressive with them (just aloof). He loved garlic, tobacco, and coffee breath. He also loved bumping his chin into your knee while you were sitting on the toilet. He did not like bathroom doors to be closed. H<span class="text_exposed_show">is happiest years were 2003-2005 when he fell madly in love with Rachan (my ex) but before we were distracted by Jesse.<br /><br />The night before he passed, he was playing and purring. He was never sick. He died peacefully and looked like he was sleeping though my guess is he his heart stopped as he had a moderate heart murmur.<br /><br />Basil got me through some dark scary days in my 20s when I was very lonely. I remember one day after a particularly rough break-up, holding Basil and crying hysterically for hours until his fur was soaked, but he didn't leave my side. He always seemed to know when you needed him to be around and he'd saddle right up beside you.<br /><br />In the passed few years, between having a kid, moving 4 times, and getting a divorce, Basil dropped down a few rungs as a priority in my life. In fact, the script had flipped and he had started needing me more than I needed him. I don't think he enjoyed the change and I know he is at peace now that the fight for my attention is finally over. And I think he knows, in his own way, he actually did win.<br /></span><b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-53390268521182906662009-06-10T12:17:00.000-07:002010-06-15T11:19:17.670-07:00<h2> Relapse is part of the Treatment</h2><br />I heard this interview on NPR I think where the guy being interviewed was saying that he was an alcoholic. It took him years to recover and it didn't happen until he accepted that relapse is part of the treatment. Maybe it was Diane Rehm or This American Life on podcast. Anyway, the line struck me. What if RELAPSE was a good thing? Or at least not a bad one. What if RELAPSE itself was a necessary part of the journey. What if it's required? It was a comforting thought but I worried it was weak or selfish or indulgent.<br /><br />I made a mental note to blog on it but promptly dropped the idea. Until I read <a href="http://brookecastillo.typepad.com/brooke_castillo/2009/06/oh-nonot-again.html">Brooke Castillo's blog</a> today and then it all slipped together. She wrote:<br /><br />For a while, your pattern may look like this:<br /><br />Get the hang of it<br />See the cool result in your life<br />Screw it all up completely by checking out<br />Get the hang of it (again)<br /><br />This time when I gained weight back it didn't feel like evidence that I suck. But it sure was interesting. This time I was willing to do it again and again and again. Willing to participate in my life instead of, as my friend Jen says, sitting back with a bucket of popcorn and watching the movie that has become my life.<br /><br />So my relapse is part of my treatment. This isn't weak - because it takes a lot of strength to stay engaged and connected, especially in the face of what could be considered failure. It isn't selfish - because I know I give the best of myself when I take care of myself first. And it sure isn't indulgent because welcoming relapse as a part of the treatment, while more gentle than other approaches, is more likely to bring more positive results.<br /><br />But most of all relapse just is. It's a part of my journey. A journey on which I am committed to keeping my eyes and my heart open.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-22229968231863425112009-05-27T09:12:00.000-07:002010-06-15T11:20:02.967-07:00<h2> How things work out </h2>It's funny how things work out with weight loss. Or any big challenge, I guess. You are working really hard and not getting results and someone suggests you stop trying so hard. That's really an infuriating suggestion because of the thought "If I don't continue to try hard, I will not succeed." It's a Bodhi tree like mystery which your busy brain rejects loudly. But then, like a geometry problem you step away from, the answer arrives at your door - all unassuming - and smacks you over the head with a sort of sweet, "how the heck did you miss that?"<br /><br />I started working with <a href="http://www.brookecastillo.com/">Brooke Castillo, weight loss coach</a>, in April 2007. I had a 1-year-old baby and had not lost most of the 85 lbs. I gained while pregnant. In 8 months, from April to November, I lost over 70 lbs. with Brooke, going from 296 (!) to about 220. My goal was to be 149 lbs by December 2009. In December 2007, stepped up my work outs often working out twice a day and burning upwards of 1500 calories a day! And I was committed to losing weight by eating when I was hungry and stopping when I was full. I never counted a calorie. But once increased my exercise, I stopped losing weight.<br /><br />All that exercise made me hungry! I worked out through the holidays but I probably ate too much. Then I got pneumonia and bronchitis, but I kept working out. I completed 3 triathlons. I was more fit than ever and while I stopped losing weight, I did drop another dress size to a size 16. I was told by my trainer I was gaining muscle and not to worry.<br /><br />I went to a weight loss retreat and realized, all my muscle wasn't the problem. I was simply eating too much. Brooke coached me about planning joy eats and only having one small serving of high fat food a day. IMPOSSIBLE I proclaimed. We had done this "plan your joy" routine before. There was simply no way for me to plan to eat a brownie and that that was going to stop me from eating a cookie if someone brought them into the office.<br /><br /><br />And then we did an exercise where I saw clearly that the problem was my incapacity to try harder. The story I told my self was I was working harder than anyone could work. And I had a lot of evidence this was true. And if this wasn't enough, then I quit.<br /><br />And so I did. From November 07 to July 08 I maintained 220 lbs. But when I got back from the retreat, I quit. Six months later, I ballooned back up to 290! Little by little the pounds piled back on but my attitude remained strong. This was a conscious life choice and not the result of negative thinking. It was the result of thinking. Period. And the thought was this, "I would rather be fat than work this hard."<br /><br />And low and behold that reality was created! (My thoughts are powerful that way.)<br /><br />There was magic in that decision. A magic to create my own destiny. A magic to create my own body. A magic to chose my future. But it's not a 1-way magic.<br /><br />So now I find myself wanting another baby.<br /><br />My divorce is still in process. I am flat broke. I can live in this fat body, but it has a really big downside. It won't ovulate. Which means I can't make another baby. With no money for fertility treatments and no legal possibility of adoption until the divorce is final, the only way for me to make a baby is with known donor sperm (got it!) and working ovaries.<br /><br />I've got to lose 50 lbs to get my ovaries in order. I'd like to lose more than that. And the clock is ticking. I'm 36.<br /><br />So I asked myself a question that Brooke asked me once: "What can you do?"<br /><br />Weight loss surgery.<br />- Not covered by insurance<br /><br />Jenny Craig.<br />- Ditto on the money<br /><br />Starve myself.<br />- Never happen<br /><br />Plan healthy meals?<br />.... hmmm.... I COULD do this one.<br /><br />And so for the past 2 weeks I have been planning my meals, logging my food, exercising (of course!) and losing weight - down 8 lbs so far.<br /><br />This process of packaging a weeks worth of meals and snacks on Sunday has made it as easy to stick to my own plan as it was to stick to Jenny Craig (but it's a lot cheaper.) Still until today I felt like I was on a diet. Lose enough weight to have a baby and then deal with life as a fat person again.<br /><br />But today something hit me. Back when I was plateaued at 220 lbs., my biggest problem was eating too much. I said I was eating 1800 calories but that's what my target was. I actually never measured calories and I stopped journaling my food. In retrospect I was probably eating more than 1800 calories and I was eating a lot of non-fuel foods. What I never really did, was take full responsibility for what I ate. In fact, I claimed (thought, believed, decided) what I ate was out of my control. I took control of exercise, but I wanted the food piece of the equasion to come together on its own. Our accountant having chocolate in his office and our new CEO having lunch catered every day was interfering with my plan.<br /><br />The secret to losing weight, it turns out, isn't eating less and exercising more. The secret is asking yourself: "What CAN I do to take care of myself despite the obstacles life is guaranteed to throw my way?" The answer always leads to eating less and exercising more, but it won't feel like a chore. It will feel like Christmas.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-30542862290449697172009-05-14T07:50:00.000-07:002009-12-28T16:17:16.633-08:00<h2> Enough is Enough - STARVE-A-THON </h2><br />I'm sick of watching this genocide in Darfur year after year and doing nothing about it. An estimated 2.7 million people have been displaced and more than 400,000 have been killed since 2003. Not since the Rwandan genocide of 1994 has the world seen such a calculated campaign of displacement, starvation, rape and mass slaughter. Recently, most of the humanitarian aid groups were expelled and Sudanese aid organizations forcibly closed. This has created increasingly precarious conditions for the internally-displaced camp dwellers.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">That's why I'm going on a hunger strike. </span><br /><br />I am joining Richard Branson, Mia Farrow, Jon Foreman of Switchfoot and 4.7 million Darfuris who are fasting without option. I'll fast 1 day for every $500 I raise to Save Darfur. You can contribute on your own at savedarfur.org (and forward me the receipt).<br /><br />If you have any questions about why I am doing this - ask me - or visit fastdarfur.org. I also think you'll find R<a href="http://entrepreneur.virgin.com/2009/05/09/you-ask-why-we-fast-for-darfur-we-fast-in-solidarity/">ichard Branson's video about his fast</a> enlightening.<br /><br />Thanks for your support,<br />Angela<br /><br />p.s. I think one of the most powerful ways to truly understand what it is like to be Darfuri in the face of possible attack by Janjaweed militias is to play the <a href="http://www.darfurisdying.com/">VIDEO GAME Darfur is Dying</a>.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-52761118847667850232008-11-21T12:30:00.001-08:002010-06-15T11:20:02.969-07:00<h2>Where have I been?</h2><br /><br />Lots of folks have asked me where I have been since June. Frankly it's a question I have been asking myself too. I can give you all the reasons I have been too busy to blog and you'll believe me:<br />- My husband and I separated. While my mother-in-law was living with us.<br />- I've been negotiating custody of our 2 1/2 year old. Still unsettled in my mind.<br />- I have welcomed into my home - my nanny, her husband and her 18 month old; a 17-year-old high school exchange student from Argentina who's here for a year; and a friend's husband who has been living with us during the weeks.<br />- The company I work for was bought. I got a promotion and (just for fun) a demotion. However, I believe I saved my job.<br />- I have been on 6 work trips in Chicago, Las Vegas, New York and Dallas.<br />- My commute went from 5 minutes to 45 minutes in May and in November went from 45 minutes to an hour and 15 minutes.<br /><br />I am sure there is more but this is a lot of what I have been dealing with.<br /><br />I decided that divorce, custody, and saving my job were more important than taking care of myself and consequently stopped going to the gym and completely stopped questioning negative beliefs. The great part of this experience was a vivid consciousness that this was what I was doing.<br /><br />"Oh," I'd think. "I am choosing to neglect myself, interesting." And then I would go on with the business of self-neglect.<br /><br />I'd see a book or magazine article about self-care and think: "hmmm, I know how to do that, wonder why I'd not."<br /><br />But I never tried to break the cycle. I just tried to watch it. Until one day, I packed a lunch and headed to the gym. Not exciting or dramatic. No epiphany. I just WANTED to take care of myself again. And that's how it's been the past few weeks. Delicious self care, more of me to go around, and incredible amazement at how the mind is mastered.<br /><br />Anyway I saw this great article today about <a href="http://www.ihavebones.com/">a woman who has lost 175lbs</a> and this advice from her blog completely reminded me of what I have learned about myself in my weight loss journey.<br /><br />{EXCERPTED}<br /><br />Things I've learned about losing weight:<br /><br /> * Workout everyday no matter what. Even when you are tired and are feeling bad. Those are your best workout days, you have more energy and feel better after your workout.<br /><br /> * Count calories and write everything down. Writing everything down makes you accountable. One of the links I have is an excel spreadsheet to calculate how much you eat at each meal and how many calories you eat each day. I own a scale that you can input a code for different foods and it tells you how many calories are in them. It takes figuring the calories out for yourself out of the equation.<br /><br /> * Drink half your weight in ounces of water per day. For example: if you weigh 200 pounds you need to drink 100 ounces of water per day. I marked my water bottles in the beginning to keep track of how much water I had drank.(Yes I recycle the bottles.)<br /><br /> * Stay away from salt and processed foods. Use fresh as much as you possible.<br /><br /> * If you can't be honest with other people, be honest with yourself. Sometimes it is the hardest thing you have to do.<br /><br /> * Ask for help if you need it. People are so willing to be part of the success, that they will help you as much as they can. There are some people who will sabotage you. If you have them in your life, tell them how you feel and if it doesn't change, limit your time with them as much as possible.<br /><br /> * Write a journal and take pictures. You will be so happy you did. When you don't see a difference in the mirror, you can look back at where you used to be. It also works when you put your beginning picture side by side with your now picture.<br /><br /> * If you go off your program get right back on. Don't wait until tomorrow, or Monday, just do it after you take a breath, and don't beat yourself up for it. No one is perfect.<br /><br /> * There are only bad excuses not to workout.<br /><br /> * Once you set your foot in the gym, everything else takes care of itself.<br /><br /> * If you are not sweating, you're not pushing yourself hard enough.<br /><br /> * I will have to work on my program the rest of my life. There are no shortcuts to healthy living.<br /><br /> * Being obese is so much harder than getting fit.<br /><br /> * Let the world see who you are under all the protection you wear.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-3494754881535997142008-06-29T08:46:00.000-07:002010-06-15T11:20:02.971-07:00<h2>Opening</h2><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGevjXwrVXI/AAAAAAAAAzM/nrIs6f2bLow/s1600-h/swirl-brush-set-example-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 136px; height: 136px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGevjXwrVXI/AAAAAAAAAzM/nrIs6f2bLow/s200/swirl-brush-set-example-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217331715540473202" border="0" /></a>I mentioned in an earlier post that I chose the word to represent me. It seemed right at the time, but I guess now that I’ve had the thought: “Opening is a good word for me.” I’ve begun to open even more.<br /><br />The Ropes Course is located near the resort we stayed at last year. I know the area very well so it surprised me I’d never seen it before. What do I mean? Well, I guess last year I was so in my head about hating the out of doors that I never actually noticed them. I didn’t notice what a gorgeous spot we were in. When we pulled up to the Ropes Course yesterday my heart skipped a beat.<br /><br />“Were these mountains here last year?” I asked Jen.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGev5JC3MMI/AAAAAAAAAzU/niy-DrkE1L0/s1600-h/SquawValley_Summertime350W.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGev5JC3MMI/AAAAAAAAAzU/niy-DrkE1L0/s200/SquawValley_Summertime350W.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217332089547337922" border="0" /></a>She laughed. “I thought it was odd you never mentioned it last year. I talked about how beautiful it was here with just about everyone else.”<br /><br />Of course the mountains were here; I hadn’t shown up.<br /><br />At the beginning of the challenge, Jesse, the Ropes Course owner shared his favorite Wayne Dyer quote with us: “When you change how you see, you change what you see.”<br /><br />I knew this was true for me. As I changed and opened, I was seeing so many things I’d never seen – the mountains, the sky, my authentic self. It was all laid out for me to see.<br /><br />This retreat has been a time of deeper opening for me and a time of acknowledging all the new things I have enabled myself to see by thinking new and better thoughts. And the best thing about opening is that it’s a process that goes infinitely. Imagine how much more there is to be seen!<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-34805924803270706542008-06-29T08:43:00.000-07:002008-06-29T08:49:46.610-07:00<h2>Unwilling to Be Coached</h2><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGeuJo-OKaI/AAAAAAAAAzE/gB3aFWpqqEs/s1600-h/The_Unwilling_Model.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGeuJo-OKaI/AAAAAAAAAzE/gB3aFWpqqEs/s200/The_Unwilling_Model.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217330173972457890" border="0" /></a>Brooke told me I was unwilling to be coached today. She’s never said it before and I guess I was stung and stuck by it; but I believe in Brooke and her coaching style and I don’t think she’d say that if it weren’t true.<br /><br />I’ve been asking myself all night if that thought is true – was I unwilling to be coached. Somehow I know the answer is yes but I can’t see my way through my story to that truth.<br /><br />On the Ropes Course, I went half way up a pole. It was so much harder physically than I expected. I wasn’t scared, but I was discouraged I wasn’t as fit as I thought I was. Still from the moment I said I couldn’t do it, I took 3 more steps. When I was lowered down I felt great for pushing myself beyond what I thought possible and then Brooke reminded me my weight made this challenge harder. I had fantastic thoughts of my success.<br /><br />Then in a coaching session, Brooke said she believed I could have climbed up the pole 5 times and the only reason I couldn’t was my thought I couldn’t.<br /><br />“What do you think you would have done if you didn’t have the thought you couldn’t do it?”<br /><br />“I guess I’d keep going until I threw up, passed out, or made it to the top.”<br /><br />Brooke pressed on – what if you didn’t have the thought you might throw up or pass out.<br />We ended up locked in an argument that ended with Brooke kinda giving up with me. At least that’s how it felt.<br /><br />“Your thought is – I couldn’t make it up the pole and that thought makes you happy because it makes you feel right. So we are going to let you keep it.”<br /><br />With that the coaching session was cut short. I’ve never seen her do this to anyone before and it really took my breath away as I tried to figure out what I made that mean. My first thoughts were really painful – Brooke doesn’t believe in me. I am not worth believing in. Brooke doesn’t understand me. Brooke is being difficult. I am sick of this work and I’m just going to quit – that’ll show her. The thoughts kept coming. (Reread now with the turnarounds in place – I don’t believe in myself. I am worth believing in. I don’t understand Brooke. I am being difficult. – these were some pretty spot on thoughts.)<br /><br />Jennifer was her typical brilliant and generous self letting me go on and on about it but not letting me get too deep into my own story before bringing me back to the work.<br /><br />“What’s the lesson here?” “How can you turn this around?” “What if you were at your physical limit? What does that mean to you?”<br /><br />I processed her questions and my own until I remembered how the conversation started…. It was about separating circumstance from thought. I was saying I was good at that now and so<br /><br />Brooke asked me what the circumstance was on the pole. “I was at my physical limit.”<br /><br />“Nope,” said Brooke. “You could have made it to the top. Your thought stopped you.”<br /><br />I couldn’t see that at all last night. But this morning I see it’s true. I could have made it to the top. My thought stopped me. This idea – the idea I could have made it to the top was hard for me to get to because in the coaching session it felt very painful because it caused the thought, I’m a failure. But that thought, ‘I could have made it to the top’ is actually very exciting good news. If I can get my head out of the way, I can make it to the top. I was not determined and here’s how I know, I never asked myself to dig deep. I never asked myself to find the strength to keep going. When Brooke gave me the option to go one more step and come down, I took it. I gave her the power to limit me because the fact was I wanted to be limited. I didn’t want to keep going.<br /><br />There have been times in my life when I’ve been so focused on something that nothing could stop me, but climbing up that pole was not one of those times. Now, I was physically exhausted, I was hungry, I was in pain; there were lots of circumstances conspiring against me being focused, but that’s like life.<br /><br />Knowing I could have made it to the top and didn’t make it there could mean I failed, but it doesn’t to me. To me it means I met the limits of my thoughts; and the great news is I am only a thought away from the top of that pole.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-46139050338698187802008-06-29T08:37:00.000-07:002010-06-15T11:20:02.975-07:00<h2>(Not) Late for A Very Important Date</h2>Ten months ago <a href="http://www.bluerosecoaching.com/">Coach Lisa</a> asked me to do the "Pass-Me" Bridge at the Squaw Valley Ropes Course with her. Yesterday I fulfilled that promise and made it across with a sweet kiss in the middle. Actual picture to come. Thanks Lisa for helping me make a dream come true for myself!<br /><a href="http://www.bluerosecoaching.com/"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGes1l4gKwI/AAAAAAAAAy8/66Cg3M92Apc/s1600-h/boygirlhighbridge.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGes1l4gKwI/AAAAAAAAAy8/66Cg3M92Apc/s200/boygirlhighbridge.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217328730034154242" border="0" /></a><br /><h2><br /></h2><h2><br /><br /><br /></h2><b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26864667.post-61309708206472998272008-06-28T07:09:00.000-07:002010-06-15T11:20:02.976-07:00<h2>Smarter than your Average Fog Eat</h2><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGZJAzvv3dI/AAAAAAAAAy0/3jUFDUguuY8/s1600-h/lightbulb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGZJAzvv3dI/AAAAAAAAAy0/3jUFDUguuY8/s200/lightbulb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216937496594603474" border="0" /></a>I came on this retreat with one, clear goal – to find the neural pathways toward a life without mindless eating when I’m not hungry (what Brooke calls fog eating). Today, I had a chance to work on that goal in one of Brooke’s typical “Attack Coaching” sessions. The thing about Brooke is that she just puts her thumb right on your thoughts and then holds you down. Her confidence in herself and in you seems to glide you onto the next level. Working with her is hard, she doesn’t let you get away with anything, but it’s also like flying. She lifts you off the ground with her love, compassion, and joy of doing this work.<br /><br />In her unique way, she was lifting me off the ground with her questions.<br /><br />Brooke: What result do you want?<br /><br />Me: To be free from fog eating.<br /><br />Brooke: What action do you need to take in order not to fog eat?<br /><br />(Oh, this is gonna be easy, I thought, I know how to play this game.)<br /><br />Me: In order not to fog eat, I need to stay connected to myself before I eat. To do that I’d need to think thoughts like this:<br />• Nothing is too much for me.<br />• I can handle this immediate moment.<br />• I don’t need to stop the thinking.<br />• I can clear the slate without eating.<br /><br />With thoughts like that I would feel resourceful, confident, competent, and clear. I would stay connected and not fog eat.<br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Q.E.D.">Q.E.D.</a><br /><br />Oh oh oh – so much easier said than done. What’s standing in my way of changing my thoughts? The belief that fog eating is somehow helpful to me. When pressed, I realized that I have a secret idea that my fog eating is actually productive. Fog eating helps me calm down, press the reset button, rethink my current circumstance and start a-fresh.<br /><br />Brooke made her move: “With Angela, the best way to coach her is with mockery.”<br /><br />So she started this list to show just how productive fog eating made me:<br /><br />Angela’s FOG EATING TO DO LIST<br />1) Eat without awareness<br />2) Eat food that doesn’t fuel me<br />3) Burn time<br />4) Zap my energy<br />5) Feel super crappy<br />6) Beat myself up after<br /><br />I hated looking at this list, but she’s right. The idea fog eating makes me more productive is total bullshit. I am just hanging on to this thought – this thought that not fog eating is too hard. And there is absolutely no intelligent reason for it.<br /><br />Here is where Brooke worked her real magic.<br /><br />“Tell me about MORE SUCCESSFUL ANGELA (MSA). What makes her VP material?"<br />Oh I rattled off my answers – so many of them where to start? I’m:<br />• Productive<br />• Smart<br />• Efficient<br />• Organized<br />• Resourceful<br />• Make good decisions<br />• Prioritize<br />• Put things in order<br />• Strategic<br />• The list goes on and on….<br /><br />I should have known what was coming. What else? A turnaround! She opened it up to the group.<br /><br />“What’s the opposite of Productive?”<br />Lazy!<br /><br />“Smart?”<br />Stupid.<br /><br />"Efficient?"<br />Wasteful…<br /><br />The list of opposites went on and on with the girls getting more and more animated:<br /><br />• Scattered<br />• Clueless<br />• Bad decisions<br />• Not ordered<br />• Mismanaged<br />• Dumb<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGZHO3zCS5I/AAAAAAAAAys/Ae_D5ztCHa8/s1600-h/dumbmonkey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CnNYTdTvm0o/SGZHO3zCS5I/AAAAAAAAAys/Ae_D5ztCHa8/s200/dumbmonkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216935539177048978" border="0" /></a>Then Brooke asked me:<br /><br />“Okay Ms. VP, what do you call a not very smart entry level person?”<br /><br />My answer rolled off the tongue…. “a monkey”<br /><br />“Great! A DUMB MONKEY I LOVE IT,” Brooke jumped up and down like an animal. “That’s who you are when you fog eat!!! A DUMB MONKEY.”<br /><br />Is feeding your body food you don’t need or food that’s not right for your body Smart? Efficient? Resourceful? Of course not! In so many areas of my life I am brilliant – oh, but not when it comes to fog eating. When it comes to fueling my body, I’m a dumb monkey. My thoughts have been telling me I can’t stop fog eating and me, little miss argumentative, I just take the orders and stuff my face without questioning for a minute if this thought is serving me. I surrendered myself to my thoughts and believed my thoughts about fog eating were uncontrollable.<br /><br />So, here are my new thoughts:<br />• I am so much smarter than fog eating.<br />• I am so glad I am not a monkey.<br />• I am never dumb now.<br />• I never fog eat now.<br /><br />I am strongly adverse to the idea of being a “dumb monkey” I don’t think it’s at all cute or funny; it’s just a stark reminder of this lie I have been telling myself over and over – that I need to fog eat; that I WANT to fog eat; that I deserve to fog eat.<br /><br />Fog eating keeps me overweight and being overweight keeps me from my true potential. No chance to fail because I’m holding myself back. Brooke of course tied this all into my career aspirations.<br /><br />I can hear Marianne Williamson telling me I’m playing small with the universe and so the universe is playing small with me. She’s telling me to show up for my own life.<br /><br />I want a seat at the big kid’s table so I can make good strategic decisions, but I don’t make good strategic decisions about fog eating in my own life and I AM the president of what one attendee referred to as You, Inc. I am the President and I’m not making good decisions at all.<br /><br />Imagine there is a board meeting and Lazy, Stupid, Smart and Efficient all show up. Who would I listen to? When I fog eat, I’m taking advice from Lazy and Stupid. Of course I’m not getting to the next level in my career, I can’t even run my own body effectively. There is a chicken and the egg here but it’s kind of irrelevant. If I want to change my life – and for that matter if you want to change yours – you just have to change your thoughts. You can do it now, or later, it really doesn’t matter; but strategically speaking, I recommend the former so you can amortize your joy over a greater number of years.<b>Journey Grrrl</b>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461777423521337185noreply@blogger.com0