Hallelujah – we do NOT belong together

There comes a point when sitting still with discomfort suddenly doesn’t feel as if it is enough anymore. From deep within comes the an urge break through something and shake things up a bit…

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There comes a point when sitting still with discomfort suddenly doesn’t feel as if it is enough anymore. From deep within comes the an urge break through something and shake things up a bit.

This is where I have arrived now. The ball is put into motion and can’t be stopped any longer. Without thinking it takes me along on its own journey. before I used to schedule all my have tos, but not anymore. Somehow they are sneaking themselves in higher and higher up – as if it has become a game to bust them all together.

This week I could give myself a high five for, after ten years of official absence, being a paid professional writer again. One should never underestimate the feeling of a work well done. It makes you want more no matter if it is more clients, know new people, mastery of some sort or simply just to really genuinely connect.

I surprise myself by even go back and dig for rejections, just to ensure I picked up on all small points to improve, as well as taking in what was said enough to notice the majority is actually positive. Very positive even.

And neither even feels bad.

It just helps me to see clearly were to go deeper and niche in.

From a long life of people please and trying to be there for everything and everybody it is a breath of fresh air to be able to distinctively say I am this and you are that. We can like each other – but from a far. We DO NOT belong together, so let’s not even try. Hallelujah.

I don’t know how it happened, but it just shifted. I can notice the discomfort – and move on to my own path.

Despite the discomfort I am moving forward.

Finding my way home. 302 signals to go.

Image courtesy to www.dreamstime.com/free-photos

From deep blame to blessing

All self-help-talk in the world, life does happen – all by itself – sometimes.

Bad things.Seemingly bad things.Things that shape us.

It causes pain, turmoil and an instant feeling of unfairness…

All self-help-talk in the world, life does happen – all by itself – sometimes.

Bad things.Seemingly bad things.Things that shape us.

It causes pain, turmoil and an instant feeling of unfairness.

Why me? Why not her? Why does it have to be me all the time?

Well, obviously me is the only person who I know to the extent I could even say that. Or feel that.

And then there is that story. The story about what happened. How we portray it, how we paint it, how we summarize it, how we identify with it – and how we keep telling it again and again, so even if it wasn’t true to begin with – by now it is, because by now it is the only version we memorized, so we know it by heart.

We justify this story with the r-e-a-l facts. Those that can’t be questioned. We are not that type of person are we – we don’t lie, tweak or leave out anything – these are facts!

So we tell ourselves and everybody else anyway.

Now this story, however, has become like a chain we tied ourselves to and we don’t seem to be able to move on or release ourselves from it.

Painfully I am discovering and looking closer at these family stories.

My mother used to complain no one was around really during her growing up. Sure she got an expensive education, but no one never really taught her anything, or at least she considered it, that she didn’t knew anything really properly, having no professional diploma of any kind.

I think no one never taught her how to handle emotions and life – hence numbing it all off with alcohol and pills seemed quite logical.

Obviously I can list hundreds of “facts”, that will justify my pity song of growing up with one single parent who was addicted – however – would her “view”of life really supported me if I took it on? Her way of living catapulted me to over-drive, but it also gave me an incredible creative freedom (no one ever bothered me…) and an undisturbed reliance and trust in myself. Yes, again and again I surround myself with people who wish to take me down – but – deep down that is still my core believe – I can do anything. If she hadn’t been in her comas that wouldn’t have been the case.

It is a blessing.

I was free – and now – I can choose.

Choose to empower and not victimize.

Going home. 303 signals to go.

Image courtesy to Maciej Secowski at www.dreamstime.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trusting the process

I never thought much about the throwing up, so why about the crying?…

Lately I have been putting a lot of effort on a particular part of my work. To the level that yesterday I felt like I was going to cry because I couldn’t come up with anything more I possibly could do…

Then a tiny voice reminded me not to rely everything on myself.

Walk away. Take a walk literally. Trust your efforts.

Anxiety left, but now I sit here again staring at it like some new planted seeds, which hasn’t started to show up yet. Like I could speed up the processes by keeping looking at it.

Now it is time to let the process process. The cake to bake. The seed  to crack and grow – by itself.

So what do you do when the cake is in the oven? When the tree is nurturing its fruit? The baby growing?

Take care of myself. Keep busy with something else. Intentionally distract myself if need be. Enjoying the down time.

Breath.

I assume crying like that is the same as when you run a race and throw up in the end. You give it your all and a bit more. Completely turning yourself inside out…

I never thought much about the throwing up, so why about the crying?

It is just telling me I did gave it my all – just as I set out to do – and that is all I can do.

Now it is time to move on. Do the – next – right – thing.

I’m fine. All is well. I am on my way. 340 signals to go.

Image courtesy of Sura Nualpradid  at FreeDigitalPhotos.net