Do it for Her.

Do it for Her.

I've been thinking a lot lately about forgiveness, sometimes when I sit with clients what they say triggers me, makes me think about some of my issues, sore spots, wounds. Last week I had the discussion with a client about forgiveness and they said "I forgive myself for this, but I don't forgive myself for that." But. That's not forgiveness to me. Forgiveness is utter and complete and I called the client on this, but driving home it felt real hypocritical that I encouraged them to have this life of acceptance, forgiveness and abundance in their life when it hasn't been what I've always wished for myself.

I've struggled with forgiveness and it's partner's in crime shame and self-bullying for most of my life. I have been so hyper critical of myself for all of my crimes, both real and imagined, for forever. It has been a never ending vicious cycle of blame, shame and repeat - repeat the actions that make me feel like shit about myself, the thoughts in a continuous cycle of hate.

Well I'm not doing that anymore.

I believe that we are given seeds of truth throughout our lives, some that grow and blossom quickly into knowledge that we can access immediately and others that take time to germinate and grow (okay, suck it I failed biology - be impressed I know the word germinate!). When I saw a therapist in college she did this exercise with me, she gave me a pillow and told me to hold it and imagine that it was me at age 5. I have a vivid imagination so this was quite easy. Then she told me to say all the horrible things to this 5-year-old self I was visualizing. I couldn't do it. I couldn't say those things to her, because in my mind it wasn't her who committed the crime that made her hurt - it was me. And thinking about it now, I didn't know I was capable of time travel, of going back in time and fucking the innocent, naive, clueless me of the past. Then she said, talk to that little girl, tell her what you want her to know. And I stumbled past the tears, stopping several times as the pain that came so deep from within my soul took my breath away and told her how I was so sorry that she had went through the horribleness and how I wished I could protect her and save her and that I loved her.

It was a life changing experience. And I got the lesson. Well, partly. The part I didn't hear was that this self-forgiveness thing, it's a daily practice, hourly if need be.

My new habit for self-forgiveness in 2014 is to take ownership for my actions, ask for and give myself forgiveness.....and on the days that I can't grant permission to the adult me starring back in the mirror I will look to these pictures and I will do it for her. Because she deserves a beautiful life and so do I.

Love you to Life.

Maybe this used to be true, before but in the early hours of this morning, in the newness of 2014 I changed the negative thinking, started a new pattern.  I thought about the roles we look for other people to fill in our lives, parent, mother, friend and I realized that I had the ability within me to fill all those roles.  And yes, I need friends to fill me with love and acceptance but they can only be echoes of the love I give myself.  And I suck at meditation, but this is how I did it.................

I kissed the palm of my hand, brought it to my forehead and pressed it there, and whispered to myself: "In this moment, in this place and until I lay my head back on the pillow tomorrow night I promise to take care of you.  I promise to protect you from ugly words and thoughts by bringing to light the beauty that is you and exposing the lies that have damaged you in the past.  I will provide you with discipline, structure and a gentle ass kicking when you need it to help create this beautiful life we have designed in our head.  I will remind you daily that you need to nourish your body with good food and exercise and I will listen patiently as you work through your excuses and then remind you why we did this and nag your ass till you do it.  :)  I will be the voice of reason when your body is weary and you're overwhelmed and you can't figure out if you're hungry, horny or lonely.
I will give you space to be creative, to indulge in fantasy, wonder and magic.  This I promise you."

I brought my hand to my lips again, kissed it gently and held it to my throat and whispered: "In this moment, in this place and until I lay my head back on the pillow tomorrow night I promise to take care of you.  I will help you to find the words as you walk alongside clients in their journey and the wisdom to know when your silence is what is required.  I will clear that knot of self-doubt and fear that stifles your ability to speak your truth.  This I promise you."

For the last time I kissed my hand and placed it on my heart and whispered: "In this moment, in this place and until I lay my head back on the pillow tomorrow night I promise to take care of you.  I will love you to death.

No.

I will love you to life.

This I promise you."

Who am I?

Who are you?  It’s simple enough really, this question the facilitator posed at the team building workshop today at work.  Each person took a turn answering the question and as I was last in line to go I listened to the other’s talk about their roles as wives, parents, what they did for work as I searched my mind for what I was going to say. 

When the facilitator arrived at me all I could say was “I don’t know who I am.”  Because to define myself as a job, a family relation (daughter, sister, etc.) just doesn’t fit anymore.  I’m just Wendy.  I’m this tangled ball of insecurity, hope, wonder, magic, hurt, fire and tenderness.  I just am.  And I’m not okay with boxing myself inside the lines of roles, to limit who and what I can be.  Yes, I’m the Sr. Bereavement and Palliative Care Coordinator and I love my work, it nourishes my heart and my soul – but more importantly than that – I’m WENDY.  And I am fully, wonderfully complete just being me, job or not.

I made this collage of pictures of before and after weight loss and I would be furthest from what would be considered a conventional success story.  At my highest I was 285 lbs, at my lowest 197.9 and then life, cancer, the breakdown of a significant relationship (not necessarily in that order) occurred and I ballooned up to 230 lbs.  I lost my uterus to the Wendy vs. Cancer War of 2013 and in the course of a month when I was recuperating I barely ate and I walked away my pain.  

Together with my trusty canine, Moses I roamed every inch of my parent’s property.  I mourned, I hurt, I crumbled and I fell into a bubble of pain I didn’t think I’d ever come out of, and all I could do was put one foot in front of the other.  And I thought.  And I let my Momma take care of me.  And finally the tears came and only the trees in the forest bore witness….and Moses.  He never left me.  He became my constant.  My best friend.  Holder of my secrets.  My savior.  And he didn’t care if I was 500 lbs or 140 lbs.  He just loved me, Wendy.

And as I made this collage I did it to say that yes, I lost weight but what I gained was a life.  That was me wearing a hideous pink dress playing paintball – fuck yes that’s right, paintball!!  That was me not hiding behind my coworkers and sitting on the arm of the couch.  That was me sitting with Chris Witten & Erin Day-Nunn wearing a dress that exposed all of my arm and I felt beautiful in my imperfection.

So who am I?  I’m Wendy.  And that girl, I like her a whole lot.