World of Many Colors

Colors of Your World

Life’s paint box is filled with a rainbow of colors. Why limit yourself to shades of neutral and grey?

Have you ever asked yourself why?

Why did you spend so many years pretending?

Why did you think you needed to hide who you were?

Why did you cover yourself in camouflage to become one with the wallpaper?

Why did you believe you couldn’t simply be yourself?

Why did you think you had to fit in?

What were you so afraid of?

Why didn’t you see the lies in your beliefs? Or the cruel purpose behind letting you hold onto those beliefs? If you still believe them, why?

Who did you serve by believing what could easily have been proven wrong simply by stepping out from behind the curtain?

How much further might you have gone if you’d stopped believing…or stopped believing sooner?

Who could you be if, instead of believing what you’re told, you started believing in yourself? Or, how much sooner might you have gotten there, if you’d shifted your beliefs earlier?

If you have overcome much of your early conditioning, how much more are you continuing to believe? To live?

Step Into Your True Colors

How much more are you hiding because you’re afraid of what others might say, think, or do?

At what point can, or did all those false beliefs come crashing down, leaving you standing, if only for a moment in time, naked, alone, and free of outdated beliefs to guide the next step you take? When will you, or did you realize this isn’t such a bad thing because it removed any obstacles to being your true, beautiful, many hued self?

You are a creature of color, but life, family, peers, and a world that thinks it needs control has buried you beneath a mountain of falsehoods in it’s own false belief you could never dig yourself out, and begin forming beliefs which allowed rather than smothered. You’ve struggled much of your life, and are likely struggling still. But you have a choice; struggle forever to be someone you were never meant to be, or struggle to figure out who you truly are, and be them?

I’ll let you in on a little secret. You were never meant to be a carbon copy of anyone, nor of their impossible vision of perfection. No one can see through your eyes. No one sees the colors from your perspective. So how could anyone define your personal palette? Fitting in is a concept drummed into many almost from birth, and it’s a concept I believe has led to more mental illness, misery, and mis-perceptions of failure than any other belief I know.

Draw the Changes You Want to See; You Want to Be

It took me decades to learn, you don’t change yourself to fit in. You be yourself and attract those with whom you’re meant to fit in. Or better still, you become a unique part of a beautiful mosaic you were meant to create. For some of us, that means walking away from the birth family whose main purpose was to teach us the most painful, difficult lessons of all so we could gain enough strength to break the shell of their false, dangerous, harmful beliefs.

Your parents, in many, but certainly not all cases, did their best to point you in the right direction; put you on the path which gave your journey the highest likelihood of success. The trouble is, they aren’t you, and can’t possibly know where your authentic journey lies. They only know what they believe; what’s moved them forward on their own journey. Their color palette may lack one or more of the most important colors in yours. It’s like trying to explain the color red to a blind person. In essence, they’re blind to your true colors.

They also fail to tell you; though they may have never figured it out themselves, is the casing for those beliefs is, in truth, as flimsy as an egg shell. It’s not the rock-hard, engraved in living stone beast you were taught to believe could never be breached. The truth is, you were meant to breach it. You were meant to question what you were taught.

Choose to Be Anti-Social to Please Yourself

But because questioning, breaking free, and forging your own path make you more difficult to control, obstacles where put in your path to discourage you. As life pushed and prodded you from many directions at once; family, friends, bosses, co-workers, peers…you faced a choice; continue to try and fail to please everyone, or chuck it all, and please yourself.

Sure, you were taught that pleasing yourself was selfish, anti-social, and a guarantee you’d be an outcast. Once you learn none of those are bad things, the road gets easier. I promise. In the first place, being selfish means caring for yourself so your vessel is full enough to lovingly give of yourself to others…of your own choice! Being an outcast is only temporary until you attract your true tribe; the one who accepts you as you are without expectations, rules, or requirements. It’s the kind of freedom you deserve!

Frankly, if being anti-social means sticking to my guns about who, and what I am, and where I go, slap that meaningless label on me. If it means those who follow the rules of false faces, endlessly trying to please the unpleasable, and ignoring my own needs, I’ll wear that label with pride.

All this being said, there will always be places in your life which remain in the shadows until you’re ready to allow their true colors to shine through. You’re always going to be a work-in-progress. There will always be places inside yourself too scary to face right now. But all the places you currently face, and paint in a myriad of colors were once in the shadows. When the time is right, you’ll free others, paintbrush at the ready to let them shine in all their glory. I’m looking forward to freeing a few more of mine!

Grateful for My Life of Many Colors

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for the parts of me I’ve learned to let shine, and those awaiting their own transformation.
2. I’m grateful for learning other people’s rules don’t have to apply to me.
3. I’m grateful for the strength my family gave me by making me fail.
4. I’m grateful for my own, many-colored palette, and the chance to add still more colors.
5. I’m grateful for attracting those who aren’t threatened by my colorful, peacock self, and who help me get past the fear of pulling out still more of those parts.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Give a Hand, Take a Hand

A Helping Hand Goes Both Ways

Over the years, I’ve come to terms with the choice I made to come into this life with certain lessons to learn. Some of them have come fairly easily, barely registered as learning experiences. One of the toughest ones took a lot of time to begin. Unbeknownst to me, I was laying a lot of groundwork for the lesson’s commencement.

With that groundwork came a lot of weeds, pebbles, and even a few overwhelmingly enormous boulders. When the lesson finally began, I was armed to the teeth to resist…at all costs. That lesson would force me to accept I couldn’t, and shouldn’t go through my life only offering a helping hand, but never accepting one. Doing so only leads to resentment, and ultimately, resistance on one side or the other, and often both.

One of the biggest obstacles for me to overcome was a generations-old belief system which dictated asking for help was a sign of weakness. Only by working hard, and always under your own power could you reach the top of your personal mountain, and hold your position. Not only was asking for help an unforgivable weakness, it meant giving away your personal power. Never mind there were times your own physical strength, knowledge, or mental abilities weren’t sufficient to reach the desired apex, much less, holding the position for more than a nanosecond. Essentially, I was taught settling is better than letting go of values which caused more harm than good.

Accepting Your Worthiness

Unfortunately, realizing I didn’t have to settle was tied into a sense of unworthiness which needed to be overcome and cleared before lessons in accepting help could begin. After all, as long as I considered myself unworthy, the last thing I’d be looking for from other people was help. My deeply ingrained belief system screamed:

Why should anyone help you? What have you done with your miserable life to deserve anything from anyone?

Sound familiar? Too many of us grow up believing we’re a zit on the face of life; worthy of, at best being ignored, and at worst, expulsion. We believe to the depth of our souls other peoples’ lives are more important than ours, and everyone is too busy living their own lives to take time out for us. Learning that belief is a complete crock of shit was a long and arduous road for me. It never occurred to me people want to help others out of the goodness of their own hearts. Or even, in the words of Nadia Bolz-Weber, out of a need to “selfishly be of service”.

What??? How can you selfishly be of service? Why would helping someone else be selfish? In her article “Bravery is Relative”  she talks about things which make her extremely anxious, to the point of panic attacks. Trust me, we all have them. She’s learned getting outside her brain by being of service to others, she’s able to get past those moments, and circumvent a full-blown panic attack. Thus, though someone else might benefit from her actions, her intentions are to help herself, and protect her own mental health.

We, the overthinkers of the world, have probably utilized this ploy to redirect our brains on many occasions. I, for one, never put a name to it. I simply used it to fill my brain with something else so I wouldn’t think myself into hysteria. Well, guess what? Sometimes, you have to be the vehicle for someone else’s selfish service. One of the things I had to learn while figuring out it was OK to ask for help, was, at times, it was also an act of generosity to allow someone to help me.

Giving is Receiving

Sure, for awhile, my brain exploded at the concept of asking for help being an act of giving as well as receiving. It’s about as counter-intuitive as it gets. But over time, and with practice, I’ve learned give-and-take is almost an art form. It’s surely a dance.

I have a close friend who’s in his 80’s and has been retired for awhile. For most of his adult life, he worked two jobs, yet still found time to help friends with vehicle, and household repairs. Needless to say, he’s not handling retirement as well as he might, especially when he’s forced to be idle after a minor surgery or illness. As such, I’m one of the fortunate, and extremely grateful beneficiaries of his need to stay busy, .

For awhile, he justified helping me without compensation because I was struggling financially, and maybe even out of a little bit of guilt for being financially comfortable (totally unnecessary, mind you. He simply made better choices). Though things have improved for me greatly, he still justifies it by telling me he loves fixing things for his friends. I’ve finally come to understand it, but am careful about mentioning too many repairs I need. However, I also know if he does take on a task, it will be done well, and probably better than if I hired a local tradesman who’s most likely deluged with work, and understaffed.

Keeping the Give and Take in Balance

That’s not to say I’m not always on the lookout for something I can do for him in return, but it no longer bothers me if I go long stretches without finding anything, because I know the projects he does for me both keep his mind sharp, and help him avoid going stir-crazy. Like me, he lives alone, which can be both a blessing, and a curse.

These days, I ask for help when I need it, and accept it gracefully, and gratefully. I look for ways to be of service to others as well. I know many of my friends are too much like me, and have trouble asking for help, so I’ve learned to recognize a need, or opportunity to give someone a hand, and simply fill it as best I can. My friend doesn’t need to ask, and I can be selfishly of service. We both win in the end, and best of all, our friendship becomes stronger for our ability to be there for each other.

The beautiful lesson I’ve learned here is the more you take a hand, the more you have to give, and the more you give, the easier it is to receive. My only hope here is future generations stop teaching their children asking for help is a sign of weakness. Only the stronger people I know accept help gracefully, and give others the opportunity to help themselves by helping someone else.

Grateful to Be Able to Give and Receive

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m gracefully for losing my tendency to do it alone, or not at all.
2. I’m grateful for friendships that grow stronger by helping each other.
3. I’m grateful for the strength I’ve gained with the give and take I get to have with my friends.
4. I’m grateful for learning vulnerability is my greatest strength, not my worst weakness.
5. I’m grateful for a life of gratitude, service; both given and received, and sharing life’s joys and challenges on this journey we call “Life”.

 

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Shine the Light of Joy on Worry

Remove Worry From Your Daily Routine

Worry is a joy sucker, plain and simple. It magnifies the least desirable outcomes, allowing the monsters under your bed to become a reality which, in all likelihood, will never manifest. Yet, instead of living in the present moment, and gleaning every ounce of joy you can, you get sucked down into that pit of despair over something which is a creation of your over-active, worst-nightmare of an imagination.

When my daughters were young, and were thinking about asking for something important to them, they’d run through all the reasons they’d fail, and doubt whether it was even worth it to ask. Though I know they got the habit from me (think: worthiness issues), I was the one who told them:

The worst thing they can say is no. What do you have to lose by asking? If you don’t ask, the answer will always be no.

Granted, I didn’t follow my own advice as often as I should have back then, and my girls suffered for it. After all, children learn more by example. Or in writer parlance, showing is always better than telling. I’d like to say I’ve ditched the habit of waffling about asking for something, but I’m still learning to shut down the voices telling me I’m unworthy.

Imposter Syndrome is Worry’s Best Bud

Imposter syndrome is a tough habit to break. The voices you’ve heard all your life telling you you’re not good enough are difficult to silence. You have to build up your confidence enough to be able to ignore them, because, let’s face it, they never really go away. And the best friend of those voices is worry. Between them, they’ll show you the worst possible outcome, and pull out the big guns to convince you it’s also the most likely. Let me tell you a secret I finally figured out for myself. It rarely is. If thoughts become things, you can give yourself extra insurance too.

Now, I won’t tell you focusing on the best possible outcome will always make it so, but most of the time, you’ll wind up closer to that end of the spectrum, and always, exactly where you’re supposed to be. If nothing else, you won’t darken the skies on the rest of your world by feeling the feelings you expect to ensue when your world comes crashing to the ground. You’ll get to enjoy the moments both before and after more for having refused to give in to thoughts of doom and gloom.

I learned through experience worry is often a self-fulfilling prophecy. Sure, it took me a lot of years to figure out I was creating most of my own misery. There was no giant light bulb over my head to signal the discovery. I’d worried myself into a hole so deep, I was almost convinced the glimmer of light I saw above me was nothing more than wishful thinking.

When you’re miserably unhappy, and feel like your life is one, big disaster, it’s hard to believe it can get better. It’s easier to believe the voices who say you’re a failure, unworthy, and both unneeded, and unwanted by anyone. I say it’s a choice to climb out of the pit of despair, and start living a happier, healthier life, but that is oversimplifying.

Only You Can Give Yourself the Gift of Happiness

Crawling out of that pit was one of the hardest things I ever did, especially since I came from a family who didn’t believe in asking for help, and, in fact, had convinced me it would show others I was weak, and deserved to be mistreated and abused. Thankfully, I was given a beautiful gift; the gift of dumping my thoughts on a page.

Sure, for decades, those words were spewed, then destroyed. I suspect that’s what I needed to do at the time, if only to clean out the muck so I could start seeing a little light in the dark, dank dungeons of my mind. It was where I started learning even if I started dark, dismal, and depressed, I could write my way around, if not to, a solution, or at least to a clearer space. It’s a lot like de-cluttering a room. You start in one spot, and clear space a little at a time, until you see a little daylight. The more you clear, the easier it is to clear more.

Eventually, those words came out of the closet, so to speak, and were shared with some trepidation for what others would think of the me who wasn’t always held together, even if it was with spit and baling wire under all the paint and spackle. Learning to write my way around from worry, and even despair to, if not a solution, at least a brighter point of view probably saved my life. It also helped me learn to connect with other people, by letting go of the belief no one wanted to see my broken, bruised, imperfect self.

Believe in Best-Case Scenarios

My biggest worry to that point had been exposure. I had to grow well, and truly tired; not only of holding all my broken pieces together, but of my sad, lonely life; tired enough for a few false starts, and a lot more bruises. I also had to start letting go of those worst-case expectations, and admit to myself I deserved better, despite what my parents, and those demonic voices in my head wanted me to believe. Deep down inside, the child who still believed in fairy tales announced her intention to help.

You can believe in fairy tales, or you can believe in horror stories. Life falls somewhere on the continuum, but yours will stay closest to the route you choose to believe in with your heart, not your brain. However, if your brain is given too much time on the podium, it can crush your heart like an eggshell. The good news is, your heart is not an eggshell. It’s far more resilient than you realize. You might need to build it a soft, insulated nest for a little while to allow the worst wounds to heal, but it will bounce back, and return the favor.

So if the blues are coloring your world right now, there are a couple of things you can do to chase them away.

1. Allow yourself to visualize one, happy, hopeful outcome.
2. Take time to breathe deeply, focusing on each breath.
3. Allow someone else to help, even if all they do is sit with you quietly.
4. Tell yourself the voices are wrong, and you are worthy. Make it a mantra, and repeat it often.
5. Express gratitude for one thing in your life.

Above all, keep telling yourself you’re worthy, and deserve more happy outcomes. Then, start letting go of the gloomy ones, and enjoying the moments.

Give Gratitude A Chance

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for letting go of worry, and learning to be my true self.
2. I’m grateful for learning I am, and always was worthy.
3. I’m grateful for learning to live my life, instead of just surviving.
4. I’m grateful for all the amazing people in my life who allow me to also be part of theirs.
5. I’m grateful for more blue skies, and less storm clouds.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Carrying a Reasonable Amount of Grief into January

Holiday Grief is Tenacious

I know, in reality, going from December to January is simply flipping a calendar page (or buying one for a new block of 12 months). It can mean as much or as little as you need it to, if you ask me. I do know December can be an especially tough time for many people who are struggling in any way; physically, emotionally, mentally, or financially. For some inexplicable reason, it seems grief with it’s roots in December seems to drag on longer than when it occurs at almost any other time.

I’ve heard it said some people with health issues, both mental and physical, do their best to hang on through the holidays for the sake of their families. It might not even be a conscious holding on, but somehow, there seem to be a lot of deaths before the year breathes its last.

Maybe it’s the constant reminder to have a “holly, jolly holiday” when you’re feeling neither holly, nor jolly. Perhaps you don’t want to breathe your last during the holidays from some misplaced sense of duty to give your family a last,  joyful, woe-free memory. Yet even in my own small circle, there were losses this year, and have been in year’s past. My own mother held on until a couple of days after Christmas before checking out, and my family didn’t even celebrate the holiday until my generation.

Is there some unwritten code that says we have to do everything in our power to avoid spoiling the joy of the holidays? Even in one of the many cases where joy fled long ago, and no one seems to know how to bring it back?

Putting Holiday Grieving in Perspective

Before you get excited, I’m not advocating an early check out, nor am I condemning it. Those choices, though, ought to be kept between a person and their own conscience. Believe it or not, they are anyway. Not to mention an even larger number of people who seemingly have no control over when the terrestrial door closes behind them, either due to some kind of unnatural cause like accidents, or acts of evil intent, or because the body they got this time around is worn out, or fed up—in short, done.

No matter how you look at it; whether you assign responsibility, or worse, blame, to he or she who ends their story in December, the pressure to remain at least until after the holidays is a very real thing, just as is the pressure to be happy and joyful even when life is kicking your butt around a city block repeatedly, and with increasing force.

I realize there’s a tendency to put a damper on holidays in which you’ve lost a loved one, forever more. There’s even a certain amount of relief when you get to turn that calendar page, and start with a seemingly clean slate. But it’s a manufactured relief because, if you’re mourning before the page turns, you’ll be mourning still. In all honesty, I felt a certain amount of relief shortly after each of my parents passed. For me, the heavy blanket of misery during the holidays actually started to lift once my mom was gone. Why? Because it was her misery, and I believed until she stopped inflicting it on me, I couldn’t release it to go in search of my own joy.

Focusing on the Blessings Left Behind

Though hardly unique, my situation isn’t what people consider normal. I understand no matter when you lose someone you love, you’ll mourn a little more on the anniversary date, wherever on the calendar it might be. But the general hullaballoo and insanity of the holidays tends to magnify the loss, not once, but every year thereafter.

So instead, I’ll ask this. Why do we have a “Celebration of Life” if we’re going to turn it into a sob fest? Maybe they had a great life, or maybe it was a lousy one, but it was there’s to live as they saw fit, and lasted long enough for them to navigate at least a few of the lessons they came here to learn. Next time around, they get to start a little further along on their journey. Why not spend some time reflecting on how much each of us learned because they were here to light the way? Just because you didn’t like the way the lesson was administered, or the magnitude of that light doesn’t mean you didn’t gain something from the experience.

Maybe that’s the crux of the problem. We all see how we think other people impact us, when in reality, they may illuminate something enough for us to see it for ourselves, but they can’t tell us how to use what we see. They can’t tell us how much of their influence is enough to hurry us on our way, how much is too much, and borders on ignoring our own responsibilities, and where the sweet spot is, somewhere in between. By the same token, we can’t tell them how much they’re supposed to share, or help us decide between right and wrong choices.

So why do we give their death so much power over the rest of our earthly life? And worse, why do we magnify the event when it occurs on, or near the holidays?

Choosing What to Hang Onto

Everyone who touches our life in any way, large or small impacts us to some degree. What isn’t always apparent is, we get to choose how much that impact will be, and even how long it will last. While I agree losing a child is the most devastating loss of all, there’s a point where I have to ask, what was that child here to teach the people they touched?

Will wearing their truncated life like an albatross around the neck keep that influence alive any more than the millions of memories you have of them while they were exerting that influence? I believe letting go honors them more. Holding the memories, but allowing their soul to continue its journey is a gift we give, not only to them, but to ourselves.

We’re still here because we’re supposed to continue our journey on the current plane for a little while longer. Their desire isn’t to weigh us down, but instead, to lighten our load.

My own understanding of the process didn’t happen overnight. I had to do my grieving, as well as a plethora of uglier emotions before I could heal, and more, let them go on to the next leg of their journey. I still feel twinges when dates of death pass, but those twinges have lessened, not because of time passing, but because I allowed myself to heal, and to celebrate the life they had, and the lessons they gave me, which allowed me to grow, and to stand on my own two feet, taking responsibility for where I went, where I’m going, and how I’ll get there.

Grateful for All My Earthly Experiences

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for those whose losses are more poignant during the holidays. They gave me a special gift I’m still unwrapping.
2. I’m grateful for the lessons I received from loved ones. They were not necessarily either happy or comfortable, but they’ve helped me continue to learn and grow.
3. I’m grateful for “a life well lived” being a matter of each individual’s perspective. Sometimes, someone’s purpose might be lighting the way so future generations avoid succumbing to the same pitfalls over and over again.
4. I’m grateful for the lights that have illuminated my own purpose, and from the many unexpected places they came.
5. I’m grateful for learning to heal my own wounds so I can avoid passing at least some of them on to my descendants, leaving them more space to carve their own niches out of life.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Making Friends With Your Brain

Get Buy-in From Your Brain

In all my years of trying to manage my weight, the few times I’ve actually lost interest in food, instead of using it as a means to control my heating habits, I allowed old beliefs to creep in until, once again, those habits are controlling me. Until now, I didn’t even realize I was sabotaging my own efforts. It goes something like this:

• Set an intention to get healthier
• Fill the refrigerator and cupboards with healthy options
• Vow to eat only the healthy choices on the menu
• In the midst of it all, start feeling crummy, typically with a round of migraines
• Lose a few pounds while the migraines are upsetting my stomach
• Convince myself eating less, and eating mostly healthy stuff is bad for me
• Feel better, and start eating again
• Lose all the momentum I gained while my stomach was cranky

Except this time, I recognize the blessing in disguise. Two days post major migraine, I could barely eat half of my breakfast, so I put it away for tomorrow (oatmeal and blueberries keeps just fine). When I started feeling like I wanted some lunch, I dished out maybe half of what I’d normally eat, and couldn’t even finish that!  This time, instead of allowing my mindset to regress yet again, I’m thanking my brain for being smarter than usual, and limiting me to healthier portions while avoiding digging for a snack shortly after my stomach has sent “full” signals up there to be processed.

For the record, there’s nothing wrong with extending those gratitudes to yourself, and all the parts of you that think they should run the show…especially that insecure toddler of a brain who has probably derailed your train more than any other part of your body! I know mine has!

Train Your Brain for Success

It turns out, I’ve been training my brain the wrong way all this time; rewarding it for resisting change! What kind of idiot tries to make positive changes, but rewards their brain fro sticking to its guns, no matter what? It appears, it’s my kind of idiot. But new year, new mindset, right? At least in the areas which need it most.

Though I no longer need to decide I deserve to be healthy and fit, I do need to thank my brain when she actually follows the program instead of digging in her heels. There is no lack of stubborn in this family, nor in this body. My job now is to give it a reason to, if not give in, at least compromise a little. Even as I type, knowing full well I was unable to finish either breakfast or lunch, my brain is whispering “snackies! I need snackies!”

This time is different. Instead of mindlessly pulling something off the kitchen shelf, I’m pausing, looking back at the whiny toddler, saying:

You don’t need snackies. You couldn’t even finish your breakfast or lunch. Drink some water and wait until dinner.

Then, I’m refilling up my 40 ounce water bottle, and sitting back down at the computer to get some work done, while Ishtar and Artemis are locked in the guest room. They, like my brain, need to be occupied, corralled, or both so they’ll keep from mucking up the works, or in their case, doing the Kitty 500 all over my house.

No More Self-Sabotaging!

I cannot count how many times I’ve listened to that voice, eating when I wasn’t hungry, or munching on something I didn’t even want. It reminds me of when I quit smoking in a way. It took standing there with a cigarette in my hand, realizing I didn’t even want the stinkin’ thing before I could finally put it down for good. Granted, I can’t exactly stop eating forever, but I can pay more attention to what, and when I want to eat than I’ve been known to up to this point. At least for any length of time. How many times have I eaten until my stomach was so full it hurt, simply because I couldn’t say no to my brain? That, alone isn’t a healthy place to be, if I’m being honest.

It makes me wonder, how many other bad habits might I have broken sooner, or never started in the first place had I established the hierarchy in the beginning? How much of this was caused because I denied myself simple pleasures like expressing my emotions from a young age? Maybe food, and at one time, cigarettes were the oral fixation the took the place of allowing myself to feel my feelings as loudly, and dramatically as I needed to at the time? Is there anyone else out there who needs to hear this?

Food does not replace expressing your feelings!

Clearly it didn’t for me, because I smoked for too many years, and have chronically over eaten all the rest of them! Thus, thanking my brain is only part of the seemingly insurmountable problem surrounding my weight, and subsequent displeasure and frustration every time I fail.

Give Your Brain a Role in Success

Allowing myself to express my feelings is all well and good, but I think I need to reinforce that freedom whenever I thank my brain for supporting one of my causes. Add a little understanding, and acceptance to the gratitude since, in a lot of ways, my brain bore the brunt of my decades of suppression. Why wouldn’t it respond to change with a great big, toddler-style tantrum?

And one more thing. Giving up a certain food, or consuming it in moderation is not a punishment, nor should it seem like cruelty, and deprivation. As I peel this onion, I am discovering more and more layers I’ve wrapped around the hangups of a child forced to smother her natural inclinations. The first step is clearly letting those stifled sobs come gushing forth in all their mucus-y, snotty glory. Let her cry it out until she’s gulping for air in between the hiccups. Thank her for trying to be a grownup when she was never given the tools.

Finally, reward her with something other than food; preferable positive reinforcement, attention, and most of all, acknowledging her feelings are valid. There was never a rule that said feelings had to be logical in order to be valid. They’re feelings, for crying out loud!

Once that inner child, aka, the brain, sees she’s supported without having to misbehave, she’ll be able to see she has a part in the success of the entire mind, body, and spirit, and be more likely to contribute rather than undermine. A little recognition, and appreciation goes a long way towards getting everyone to work together for the success of the whole.

Look out, healthy body! Here we come!

Grateful for Myself

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for a mind and body that’s still willing to learn, change, and grow.
2. I’m grateful for learning how to make me actions yield more success.
3. I’m grateful for a mind that still has some of the innocence of a child, even if it’s a stubborn one.
4. I’m grateful for insights which come at unexpected moments.
5. I’m grateful for new, better plans.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Hitting Reset

Start the Year Off with a Reset

Once all the presents were wrapped and sent off, I was left with a lot of time on my hands. This meant the last two weeks in December, I could have taken care of some old projects, and cleared space for the New Year…but I didn’t. Instead, I slipped back into old, slovenly ways. Sand boxes weren’t scooped every day. I didn’t brush my teeth or take my supplements daily either. Naturally, my physical and mental health suffered. Almost daily migraines were the loudest indication I was overdue for a reset.

It started out slowly. I began adding blog posts to my queue again. Then I began vacuuming, if not daily, at least every couple of days, which meant I was scooping more regularly. Last, but not least, I started getting up out of my chair sooner, to brush my teeth, take my supplements, and ultimately, wash my face too. I even started using the FaceFactory masks I’d learned about from my daughter (via the Advent Box she made me), and got an extra boost for my reset when I actually saw improvements to the face in the mirror.

There are still plenty of improvements I can make, but going back to at least part of my healthy routine is a great start. Thankfully, the length of time I backslide, as well as the distance backwards I go is far less than it used to be. It reminds me progress isn’t always measured in steps forward. Sometimes, it’s two steps forward, one step back.

Show Yourself Some Love

Of course, a huge part of it is how much I’ve come to love the me who takes care of herself, not only mentally and physically, but the state of my space as well. I’ve learned when I let things slide in one area, everything suffers to some degree. Granted, my cats would prefer I didn’t run the vacuum as often, though I think they appreciate a cleaner space too. They certainly make their feelings clear if their sand boxes aren’t clean enough!

Even my sleep has improved by paying more attention to self-care. I had started having to move around the house a few times until I found a place where I’d actually fall asleep again. It didn’t occur to me until the problem resolved itself it, it had everything to do with how I was treating myself and my space! Who’d have thought vacuuming regularly could help me sleep at night?

My routine and regular self-care continues to stumble its way back to my version of normal. Ballet is on hiatus while my teacher heals from and avulsion fracture, and I’ve yet to initiate the pilates, or stretches I’ve been promising myself for the last two weeks. Thankfully, hiatus is ending before my body gets too lazy to pick up the steps and movements again.

New dance shoes means my feet are a lot happier though, so I’m dancing more than I had been on dance nights. With the return of people from trips and vacations, there are even a couple more men to two-step with, which is always a treat for me!

The Buck Stops Here

I know, however, if I don’t start doing more stretching, and working on core strength, next week’s resumption of ballet will find me in a world of hurt, both literally and figuratively. The problem lies in connecting the dots between knowing what I need, and actually making it happen. Admittedly, it’s  easier to depend on my ballet teacher to hold space, while I show up at the regularly scheduled times, and do my best to move my body as she instructs. Thank goodness she’s the only one who can see me. I’m sure there are times it’s quite the comedy act. The body does not always want to do what the mind desires. And hey, if you can’t laugh at yourself once in awhile, before diving back in to try it all again, where’s the fun?

I was talking to a young woman I knew last night, but hadn’t seen in awhile. I told her it’s important to commit to yourself, first and foremost, because you can’t pour from an empty cup. As is often the case when I offer advice, I needed it more than she did! Sure, I’m getting to the club most nights to dance, I’m still not dancing as much as I used to (an overall pickiness about which dances I’ll do doesn’t help), and the stretches I used to do before and after to keep my knees happy have been woefully absent from my schedule.

I have to keep reminding myself, I may not be paying for the lack right now, but it will whack me between the shoulder blades, and in the kneecaps when I least expect it…and probably when it’s least convenient. It seems, for the moment, my inherent laziness, and lack of motion is taking precedence over what’s best for my no-longer-spring-chicken body. The reset button I needed to hit a few weeks ago is now flashing like a panic button; bells, whistles, and klaxon horns screaming. At this point, I’ll ignore it at my own, painful peril. And by the way, I am NOT a fan of pain, even if it takes a lot to bring me to my knees.

Make Resets More Regular than Annual

Thinking about it, I considered making “Reset” one of my January words. I realized I don’t need a hard reset where all systems shut down to restart clean. Many of my habits and routines simply need a gentle reminder to get back up and moving again. Others, like stretching, and moving more during the day could use more of a shut-down, and restart in order to get the juices flowing better. I think some of them have dribbled out the sides, to be lost from the system entirely. Wiping the slate clear of the accumulated grease and grime may be just what the system needs to release the old, sluggish, dirty energy, and replace it with a nice, clean 30-grade oil.

I’ll jettison old, crappy eating habits, replacing them with not only healthier choices, but mindfulness, and portion control. Out the door will go sitting in a chair, or on the sofa for hours on end, to be replaced, perhaps, by some Spring cleaning, exercise videos courtesy of Amazon, and if I’m really inspired, maybe even walking the neighborhood again. One of my biggest excuses for avoiding the daily walks was lack of material in my blog queue. Though I’m still ramping up so I have at least a couple of weeks in reserve, I am writing somewhat regularly, and know the walks might…just might give me more material to write about than I get sitting inside these four walls for days at a time.

Whether I end up doing a hard reset, or simply resetting certain systems right now, I know I’ll continue to see progress, as I have by reinstating some of the tried and true activities which activate the synapses in my mind, and trigger responses from my body.

Grateful for Internal Reset Buttons

My gratitudes today area:

1. I’m grateful for staying within a certain range on those occasions I do backslide.
2. I’m grateful for the helpful advice I give other people that’s actually meant for me.
3. I’m grateful for having reasons to get out of the house every week, even if it’s only dancing, and forays out to ensure there’s healthy food in the house.
4. I’m grateful for new shoes that are lighter, and more flexible to make dancing easier on my abused feet.
5. I’m grateful for the mental capacity to realize it’s time to mix things up again.

 

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Counting Blessings

Embracing a Life of Blessings

When I’m worried and I can’t sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings
When my bankroll is getting small
I think of when I had none at all
And I fall asleep counting my blessings — Bing Crosby “White Christmas”

One of the greatest gifts in my life these days is realizing I have blessings to count in the first place. It took me several decades to discover what I thought was nothing but crap in my life was simply the fertilizer I’d need when I started taking the seeds I’d been given, or managed to sow along the way in spite of my own worst efforts, for the opportunities they were, rather than the useless, unworthy mess I’d been led to believe. In fact, the fertilizer has probably been the biggest blessing of all.

It taught me to stop taking myself, and everything around me at face value because, all too often, those faces are false. I was taught from a young age, by a certified expert in masks, walls, and facades, to hide every genuine kernel of my being beneath deep, dark piles of crap. Why? Because everything unique and genuine about my being was considered worthless. Conformity, false fronts, and a life of pretending to fit in were lessons passed down from one desperately unhappy generation to another. Yet no one questioned the miserable existence. Instead, they hid from it with the more acceptable vices of alcohol, prescription drugs, and other excesses.

Replacing Self-Loathing With Self-Love

I’m not sure why I tired of loathing myself, nor when it actually happened. Most likely, it was a slow progression aided by excessive time alone, and a personal library many local ones would envy. In books, and my own writings, I discovered a world remarkably different from the one I was expected to inhabit. I knew there was an element of truth in every fiction, so happy, supportive families and friends existed outside my limited circle of gloom, overwork, and rat racing. The first step towards finding it turned out to be believing it existed—for me!

Honestly, believing was the hardest part after decades, and generations of mindless acceptance of my family’s version of the natural order of things. In other words, hard work, disconnection, and never letting anyone see your true, unadorned, remarkable face. That my face wanted to be seen for itself, and not the endless game of charades was one thing I had going for me, though it brought me nothing but pain and misery for longer than I’d have wished. Showing that face in certain circles caused excessive discomfort, and constant efforts to push me back into the mold from which my soul was screaming to escape.

Where I come from, being ostracized is the worst punishment imaginable, and had, for generations, been sufficient to bring people back into the fold. My mother spent her life pretending to conform rather than face that ostracization. In so doing, she cheated herself out of finding those who would accept the amazing woman she kept firmly in check 24/7/365. As such, I mourn the woman she could have been far more than the one she allowed herself to be.

Revolting Against Constricting Ideals

I got a reputation for being a rebel early on, though for a long time, I thought I simply lacked social skills. My emotions have always run too close to the surface for the comfort of many people, namely, my family. What I had to learn was, there are many others like me, and one of the largest, most challenging purposes I chose for this lifetime was to find them. To do so meant I had to have the courage to be myself; to stop trying to fit in. Most of all, I had to learn to live loudly, proudly, and gratefully.

Once I escaped the confines of the box of rules I was never meant to embrace in the first place, I got to see every piece of the puzzle; every obstacle on the road as a blessing in disguise. Each one forced me to choose. Each one helped me learn the hardest choice, on the surface, was the one which seemed most painful. Breaking patterns can seem that way until you realize how much lighter you travel without old baggage; how free you are without expectations not your own.

Looking back now, I get to see how each stepping stone masquerading as an obstacle  was a blessing. Some of them were obvious, but more were disguised as insurmountable odds. Many turned out to be shadows of much smaller challenges, made bigger, and scarier by hiding in the dark. Learning to illuminate the dark corners made many things manageable, and helped me pile up the success stories. Ultimately, it was the stories I told myself which gave me the courage; the gumption to re-write my life on my own terms. From there, it was the smallest step to realize the gifts I’d been giving.

The Best Gifts Lay Buried Within

Just because those gifts came wrapped in filthy, crumpled old newspapers instead of shiny wrapping paper didn’t make them any less valuable. In fact, their unremarkable appearance helped me learn to look past what’s visible on the surface to the real gift hidden beneath years of grime, wounds, and yes, fertilizer. What my family saw as ugly, and useless; things like emotions, and authenticity, turned out to be my greatest assets. Though they tried to put the fear of god into me so I would shy away from using them, and like them, bury those gifts beneath my own layers of grime, tattered dreams, and fertilizer, it turns out I was made of sturdier stock…and didn’t scare that easily.

Sure, it took a couple of Category 8 earthquakes to shake me loose of those fears, and the dire consequences foretold by my nearest and dearest. It had to be worth the risk before I’d let the feeble, but tenacious light of my individuality grow ever brighter until I no longer felt hiding it was the right choice. I suspect other members of my family received similar opportunities, but chose to remain within the fold rather than risk being out in the cold, hard, cruel world alone.

For me, alone was better. Somewhere inside me, I knew I’d survive the transition, albeit bruised and battered for awhile. I knew there was a place on the other side of my transition where I’d find a soft landing, and people who loved and accepted me because I was willing to break the mold, feel my feels, and allow them to see me feeling my feels.

Sharing Imperfections to Attract Your Tribe

I may have navigated some of the most devastating losses of my life alone, but it wasn’t until I shared some of those losses that I found out they were what would attract the right people to me. It was the sharing of those imperfections which made me attractive rather than the ugly, disgusting mess I was taught I was for letting people see my messy emotions. In fact, each shared emotion is a blessing to someone else! It says: I’ve been through some tough times too, so you can feel safe lowering the walls when life kicks your butt too.

At a time of year when more people suffer losses than usual, I’m no longer sheltered from the challenges my friends are facing. They open the door as much as they can, and allow me to be, if nothing else, a spot of solid ground while they’re negotiating the rapids; a place to rest a moment before picking up the oars, and continuing on their journey. I know it’s a blessing which gets passed back and forth as our lives move forward; each of us giving; each of us taking as the need arises, and the journey goes sideways.

My journey no longer goes sideways for very long. I don’t spend months, and years wondering if I can take the next step at all. I know I can, because I’m blessed with a community whose strength lies in helping each other despite the fact we’re all in different places on that road called Life.

Gratitude is the Greatest Gift of All

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for all the blessings in my life, and the people who allow me to just be me—no more, no less.
2. I’m grateful for finding the strength to leave old beliefs behind, and live my life authentically.
3. I’m grateful for the lessons; the hard ones, and the less hard ones (are there really any easy ones?) which led me to the life I live today.
4. I’m grateful for the quiet times, and the crazy times; the happy times, and the introspective times. It’s all different facets of a full, happy, healthy life.
5. I’m grateful for each and every day I’m given to live, love, laugh, cry, share, and be a complete Divine Being living a Human life.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Break Free of Early Programming

Break Free to Find Your Authentic Self

Like many of you, January is a time to both reflect back on the previous year, and set intentions for the one that’s laid out before me; an open road which will take many twists and turns on the journey ahead. It’s a blank canvas upon which new memories will be painted of lessons learned, experiences added to my repertoire, some successes, a failure or two, gains, and losses; but mostly, long stretches when I do nothing more miraculous than living my life on my own terms. It’s also a time to break free of programming which no longer serves you, and was never meant to last a lifetime anyway.

My wish; my intention; my desire is that the lessons will move me forward on my life path, the experiences, successes, and gains will be many, and the losses and failures be few. I know there are things which are out of my control. They’ll test my ability to respond, rather than react, and to build on previous lessons. Others will depend on the choices I make, and my flexibility when the road takes an unexpected turn.

I’ve learned those turns aren’t “better”, or “worse”, but simply different. The only certainty is change. My ability to adapt will determine how I view, and respond to the unexpected. I’ve learned when my gut starts chattering at me, it’s not necessarily something to be feared, and worry is nothing more than anticipating the worst. Instead, I’ve learned to ask myself, what changes are coming for which I need to be ready to adapt, and adjust my course? It’s certainly made life more enjoyable than when I immediately asked myself: “OK, what calamity is about to occur, and how quickly can I batten down my hatches?”

Set Your Expectations Mindfully

Once, I lived in a constant state of expecting the worst, and you know what? The worst was what I usually got. There were layoffs, promotions for which I was passed over, raises that never came, and problems dealing with my kids. Money was always tight, and things always happened to make it tighter. It wasn’t until I turned my mindset on its ear when things started to change. I realized I didn’t deserve all the pain and trauma, and I was giving it to myself!

Realizing you’re the reason for most, if not all the misery in your life is a pretty tough nut to crack. It’s so much easier to blame your job, co-workers, and boss; your ex, and everyone else you interact with; the hand you were dealt, and so much more. In the end, though, it all comes down to the stories you tell yourself, and the way you talk to the child within who’s only real desire in life is to be loved and accepted for who she is.

Admittedly, I got used to having people enumerate my faults, and tell me I wasn’t good enough. It was easier to believe them than to step out of the comfortable pit I was in and think for myself. Granted, that pit wasn’t so much comfortable, as familiar inasmuch as it showed an ugly, worthless lump of flesh when I dared look in the mirror. That the image was a false one, conceived by those who preferred me to be less, than to exceed their expectations, and my need for their approval (which, by the way, I’d never, ever earn), didn’t occur to me until I blew a few large holes in the facade of my belief system.

Get Off the Merry-go-round of Approval

That’s the real crux of the matter, isn’t it? So many of us are taught we can’t survive without the approval of parents, friends, family, co-workers, etc. We’re led to believe being different; seeing the world through clearer glasses, will leave us up begging on a cold, snowy street corner if we stop trying to live up to (or more likely, down to) unreasonable, unachievable expectations. I’ll admit, it wasn’t easy to decide I wasn’t going to do that any more. I had to shut down, in order to finally bloom, and grow into the person I was meant to be.

Life is a series of traumas meant to make us strong enough to survive. Like a seed bursting through it’s casing so it can grow into the plant inscribed in its DNA, we humans have to push our way through the birth canal, sometimes literally, others, figuratively, in order to get the blood moving through our bodies; the spirit moving through our minds, so we can grow and thrive. At times, the push reaches cataclysmic proportions because it’s the only way to escape from a life view that never was, and never will be our own.

We learn a lot of lessons from our parents, and for awhile, assume they’re the end-all, and be-all of our world. Not all of those lessons are healthy ones. Some are meant to show us the darkness so we can differentiate it from the lighter, brighter, free-er world we can experience if we learn to break away from what we think we know, and allow other viewpoints to enter, churn around for a bit, and alter our perspective, not once, but repeatedly throughout our lifetime.

Forced Out of the Nest by Trauma

Some of you figure that out early on, breaking away, and becoming your own person, regardless of what you’ve been taught, or others around you believe. Others are like me, and have to be pushed, shoved, compressed, and pretzeled before you get enough gumption to get off that merry-go-round, and forge your own path. In doing so, you have to clear away the rubble of the life you had to shatter in order to build a more solid structure on stabler ground. In some ways, the old saying “the first step is a doozy” means a whole lot more once you’ve traversed that particular birth canal.

Breaking away from those familial, familiar patterns is not for the faint of heart. In many ways, it’s a re-birth, where you once again come into the world, naked and defenseless. Except you aren’t actually defenseless. It’s more like being unsupported until you get your legs back under you. Like a newborn colt, you push yourself upright so you can reach the nourishment that will help you grow stronger, and more able to forge your own way according to your own rules, and the new beliefs you’re forming, not all at once, but as you begin seeing the world without the dogma, filters, and misconceptions.

You learn as you go this time, with experience, and trauma giving you tools, both helpful, and harmful, to create the new path you want to follow. As time goes on, and you have a few successes under your belt, you learn support comes, not from walls, masks, and coping mechanisms; not from trying to live up to the expectations of people who are broken themselves, but by attracting what you need with your authenticity.

Become a Better Attracter Authentically

Because part of the process is changing who, and what you attract, you might believe alone is better, and for a short time, it probably is. You need time to break away from the people and things which tore you down, and made you believe yourself unworthy. Those albatrosses hanging from your neck, and the baggage you acquired need to be put down, and detached from your mind, body, and spirit before you can move forward, free to attract what will be beneficial on your new, improved, unfettered journey.

That’s what I’ve been doing for the last 20 or so years of this lifetime; detaching from the old ways and beliefs, and re-creating myself according to the DNA I was given. I wasn’t meant to blindly follow my earliest teachings, though for a long time, I thought it was all I had; all I deserved. It took a series of traumas to make me see where I’d end up if I didn’t change my mindset, and as such, my life path sooner rather than later.

Today, that path includes an amazing, supportive community who loves me as I am, without expectations. Being my authentic self—always and forever, ensures I’ll continue to attract what serves me, and helps me be an even better version of myself year after year. It includes better relationships overall, and bigger, better opportunities to do the work I love, with the people I love. In all ways, I feel valued, and appreciated. It’s a place I never expected to be, and wouldn’t be had I not made some world-shaking changes in the last couple of decades. I’m infinitely grateful for the traumas which kicked me out of that familiarly uncomfortable nest!

 

Grateful for the Life Lessons

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for the traumas that helped me learn and grow.
2. I’m grateful for the lessons…all of them. The ones I’ve carried with me, and the ones I learned I could leave behind.
3. I’m grateful for learning to value myself, to form my own beliefs, and to let go of the ones that kept me from blossoming into the beautiful, unusual, unique flower I’m supposed to be.
4. I’m grateful for the community I attracted when I learned to be myself instead of what others wanted me to be.
5. I’m grateful for the family into which I was born, and from whom I’ve broken free.

 

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

How COVID Changed Me for the Better

Finding the Disguised Blessings in COVID

Almost everyone bemoans the normalcy we’ve lost since COVID first sent us scurrying for cover, willingly, or no. While I believe we’ll never return to the way things were, nor do I really want to, I have to acknowledge the many positive changes and choices I made as a result, not the least of which was how I seek regular exercise.

Pre-COVID, I’d gotten pretty good about going to the gym 3 times a week, and was feeling healthier as a result. When the gyms shut down, along with almost every place else I got my exercise, I had several choices.

1. Make do with the minimal weights I had at home.
2. Drag my butt outside to walk every day.
3. Join a Zoom ballet class that met 3 times a week, even though I hadn’t done ballet in 60 years.

I honestly tried 1 and 2, but didn’t really stick with them for the long haul. 3 however not only stuck, but continues, even to this day, despite arthritic knees and assorted other cranky joints. In fact, because of ballet, I’ve learned to stuff down the pain, modify if necessary, and keep going. I’m also embracing the little indications of progress, and trying really hard not to beat myself up when progress seems either minimal, or backwards.

One Good Change Leads to Lots of Others

A lot of seemingly unrelated things have come from those ongoing ballet classes too. I know my posture, while still somewhat inconsistent, has improved. Turns on the line dance, and two-step floor are more effortless. And I’ve begun wearing more makeup again, in part due to some rigorous nagging by my friend, Mely. She had a lot of help from my ballet teacher who is always telling the class we’re beautiful.

It’s true, if you tell yourself something often enough, you’ll come to believe it. It also works when someone else does it, provided you don’t insult them by dismissing their compliments. Up to this point in my life, though, it was usually negative things, so for a time, I stopped listening to what others said. I seem to have a turned a major corner now, when what people are saying is positive and uplifting rather than critical and demeaning. It took my negatively conditioned brain time to adjust to the changes, and start incorporating them into my make-up (no pun intended).

The older I get, the more my body needs care, gentleness, and attention. I’ve grown tired of paying the price when I fail to be consistent about exercise, water consumption, and stretching. Like the early warning system I have for migraines, my body tells me when I need to give it more love. It might be a shoulder taking issue with a certain bra, a neck that sends a pain shooting down my back or shoulder when moved a certain way, or a knee which summarily refuses to do a grande plie by locking up halfway down.

Move it, or Lose it

Months of forced isolation taught me, while I need to listen to the pain, the last thing I need to do is stop what I’m doing. The same stretches can be done more gently until the cranky part relaxes, or internal swelling diminishes. A grande plie can be more of a demi until the knee warms up and becomes more flexible. Sitting one out, I’ve discovered, is actually the worst option, despite the unwelcome, and misinformed advice of an HMO orthopedist.

While my natural klutziness often contributes to the obstacles I need to overcome (a recent bare toed kick to my car’s rear tire is a case in point), COVID helped me realize sticking to my exercise schedule, in whatever form it takes, keeping up with household chores like vacuuming, sweeping, and sand box scooping, and being diligent about cleaning teeth and face, and taking my supplements will keep this old, often crotchety body going for years longer than sitting on the couch, waiting for the pain to subside.

In some ways, I’m grateful for the pain. It reminds me I’m still alive and kicking. Best of all, it tells me I have to keep moving, if I want to keep moving for many years to come. It’s a no-brainer. I want to maintain my independence which means not only enjoying my favorite recreation—dancing, but doing my own chores, filling my 5-gallon water bottles, and simply walking whenever, and wherever I’d like.

Choose to Stay Healthy

Even close neighbors have shown me by example what it means to take care of the body I’ve been given. Both women are over 80. One still walks, does her own chores, and is self-sufficient. The other can barely walk from her front door to the sidewalk without stopping to catch her breath. Having experienced an issue which affected me like the latter a few years back, I’m not inclined to revisit that experience any time soon.

So I clean house. I park further from stores so I can walk more. I fill and carry my 5-gallon water bottles. I dance as often as possible. Above all, I listen to my body, and stretch every day, at least a little bit. I even try to make healthier food choices as the rule rather than the exception.

For the most part, staying healthy is a choice. If it means less time lounging on the sofa with my cats; a book in hand, or the TV on, it’s a small price to pay for being able to do for myself most of the time, dance often, and suffer from pain seldom.

Gratitude is a Healthy Habit

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for discovering Zoom ballet shortly after everything shut down for COVID.
2. I’m grateful for the stretches I took from physical therapy, and incorporated into my daily life.
3. I’m grateful for a cleaner house because it means getting at least a little exercise every day.
4. I’m grateful for a new vacuum cleaner that’s easier to use, and sucks up the dust, cat hair, and grit better.
5. I’m grateful for opportunities to move more, sit less, and hurt infrequently, if at all.

 

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Flipping the Switch on Anarchy

Anarchy Thrives Through Apathy

On Christmas Day, my trumpcentric neighbors replaced their ever-present American flag with an all-black one. Never mind, they’ve disrespected that flag on numerous occasions, flying it day or night, rain or shine without proper protection or illumination. Being me, I did a quick search to find out what it meant. In the moment, I was horrified, both by the hate-filled message it imparted, and the fact that, even with so many things the man stood for going up in flames; his lies and treachery exposed for all the world to see, his staunchest supporters stand by him, oblivious to how little they stand to gain, and how much they’d lose if they got the outcome they believed they wanted. It saddens me to think, in a world where information is freely available, and fact-checking can show how much, or little truth any story is telling, misbegotten dreams of anarchy still live on in the minds of many.

At first, I said a protection spell for myself, and everyone I hold dear. Then I started cleaning my house. As I cleaned, my mind became clearer, and I felt sad for the darkness occupying so many hearts on a day that spoke of peace, love, and acceptance. Clearly, to some, it’s mere lip service, and an excuse to consume excessively. I started spewing love and light like rainbow glitter from a bubble machine. The glitter gave way to a whimsical image of the black flag slowly morphing into a rainbow one, complete with glitter, and a unicorn at the top of the flagpole, its golden horn glinting in the sun.

The last image made me giggle, but also reminded me the way to breach the darkness isn’t through worry, stress, or worse, returning the hate. It comes from shining the brightest light I can on anyone, and anything. I know beneath the decades-, or even generations-old blanket of hate and discontent lie innumerable souls who desperately want to find their own spark of love and goodness, but need light from people like me to help them find the way. Yet, their conditioning leads them to do all they can to inspire anger, fear, and worry.

Being a Beacon in the Darkness

Maybe it’ll take industrial sized, halogen spotlights to break through the torrid darkness desperately trying to hold onto its cache of souls. Those spotlights have to start somewhere. Why not my tenacious, little light that’s seen its own share of darkness, and overcame it? I know it won’t stand alone for long, as more tenacious, determined little lights will join together, making larger and larger ones.

We’ll shine into the darkness, the shadows, the ignorance, and the misplaced anger, flushing old demons from their hiding places. The fear, hate, and anger they’ve helped people justify will be exposed for the smoke and mirrors they’ve always been.

Sure, some will dig deeper into the darkness; their security blanket in a world they can’t control, nor were they meant to. There will always be some who prefer to be led; to be told what to do, and how to think. It gives them an excuse to take no responsibility for the outcome of their choices. Like the lemmings in so many old news stories, they’ll follow their self-serving leader right over the cliff one of these days. What they don’t see is, that’s a choice too.

Emerging from the Darkness: Not for the Faint of Heart

Perhaps it affects me more deeply because I remember being sad, lonely, angry, and blaming others for my physical, mental, and emotional state. I had my own list of “if onlys” which, unbeknownst to me at the time, were completely mine to manifest, just as I was manifesting the darkness in which I dwelt. The first steps out of the darkness were the most frightening; not because of the demons who tried to thwart me, but because I was forced, in the brightness I encountered, to face my own imperfections.

It was in the harsh light of day I had to accept that the masks, walls, and blankets of gloom behind which I’d been hiding weren’t fooling anyone who chose to look closely, nor were they protecting me from my worst enemy—myself. It’s probably why I’m able to find empathy for those who think another person, or a black flag, or banding together with other broken, miserable souls is going to improve their lot. Until they discover they, alone have the power to improve their own life, they’ll continue to follow the false gods who spew empty promises of power and abundance.

Those false gods would like nothing more than for us to kill each other off, causing more pain, anguish, and desperation while they rake in the spoils, and profit from the collective misery. Taking responsibility for our own happiness, working together for the greater good, giving without expectation of reward…those are things the false gods neither understand, nor know how to profit from. In fact, those things are the antithesis of the anarchy they crave.

Together, We Can Move Mountains

Watching humanity grow strong, healthy, and united undermines their power; the control, which is the only thing they believe in. In my opinion, anarchy doesn’t just happen. It’s the result of apathy, false belief, and resigning to the seemingly insurmountable power of someone else. History has shown, time and time again, when the masses stop accepting that opposing the Powers that Be is a losing proposition, and take matters into their own hands by working together, great changes occur.

In order to make it work, though, you have to stop believing your individual actions don’t matter; that all you can do is try to improve your own lot. Sure, one single drop does not move the ocean, but collectively, those single drops are the ocean! The ocean has the power and strength to change the landscape, and has, many times over. Like the ocean, Humanity, when we work together, is infinitely powerful, too.

Gratitude Fuels Our Fires

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful I’ve chosen to be one with the ocean.
2. I’m grateful for the many individual drops who help make up what, for now, may simply be resistance, but will someday be the power of the many overcoming the anarchistic goals of the few.
3. I’m grateful for choices, and the ones I made to see myself and everything else in the harsh light of day rather than in the concealing cloak of darkness.
4. I’m grateful for opportunities to make a difference for the greater good.
5. I’m grateful for the power of love and light.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author