How Overthinking Leads to Underserving

When a slight veil of coronavirus restriction lifted, my husband received notice that he could return to work. While the excitement for that bit of freedom was tangible, I did feel just a slight tingle of fear. Yet I carried on and cheered for the truth that this pandemic is just our right now and not our forever.  

That morning of his first day back, I drove him to the front door. Before he stepped out of the car, I looked him straight in the eye, and said, “You’re everything I have. Please take care of yourself. Mask up. Stay a healthy distance. Wash your hands. Do whatever necessary so when I come back here, you’re as healthy as you are now.” He smiled, kissed my cheek, and said, “Stop overthinking.”

As I watched him walk away, the mental floodgates opened, and questions flew in like a tidal wave.

• What if he gets sick?
• What hospital will take him?
• Can I go inside the hospital?
• Does he have his insurance card?
• How do I handle him being in the hospital and I can’t be there?
• Who will call me every two minutes with an update about his breathing?
• Will he have a TV in his room?  
• What if he’s too weak to hold a remote control?
• What about reaching the “call the nurse” button?
• Can I call him?
• What about his phone?
• Can he charge that somewhere? 
• Will he have Wi-Fi?
• What if he something awful happens and I’m not there to hold his hand?
• Who will hold my hand?
• Will the one woman who knows me better than myself fly to my side and hold mine?
• What if he dies?
• How would I ever survive that?
• Where would I live?
• How could I sell that house we shared? 
• What will I do with all those TVs?
• What’s in the basement?
• Should I take a video of everything down there? 
• How long do those iPhone videos last?
• Are there companies that preserve them?

Yep, all that (and more) spun through my head before I moved through the first intersection on my way home. 

This is what the mind looks like when fear strikes a recovering overthinker. I’m a racehorse charging out of the gate. One minor thought propels me into some twisted flowchart where I end up feeling helpless no matter what turn I take.  

Even after 18 years of continuous recovery from unhealthy behaviors that I believe protected me from unwelcome emotions, I can easily teeter on the edge of insanity if I don’t catch overthinking before that overtakes me.  

This is why a wide support circle is critical for people like me. I know any one of my beloved trusted friends will understand when I start a phone call with, “Well, you won’t believe where my head is at right now.” After shared laughter for the predictability of my predicament, I pour out my collection of thoughts into the loving hands of those who keep me sane. Per usual, an offer of gentle acknowledgment for my harried travel from point “A” to point “Z” is followed by the reminder that my day is always better served when I keep my head where my feet are.

Immediately I felt better. Coronavirus can’t keep me from staying in my lane of recovery. Help is always available even if that’s not in-person. I’m glad for the many years of proven experience to know how that works.

Of course, later that day, when I retrieved my husband, I found him just fine.

My life is so much easier when I remember that overthinking anything is the gateway to underserving me.

A Moment to Breathe

If you relate to what you just read, take a deep breath. The overthinking connection often brings about a sense of thrill yet also infuriation. We’re thrilled by the idea that we can get ahead of what might feel awful and yet infuriated because we know we can’t outsmart the future. That’s what overthinking is all about. We believe if we create enough scenarios we’ll better manage whatever emotion arises. However, that rarely works. All that does is create more self-imposed chaos and anxiety. The only way we can truly prepare for what’s coming is by taking better care of ourselves today. Breathe that in. Take another deep breath and consider what you’re thinking about right now. How long have you had that thought? A few minutes? A few hours? A few days? Have you considered sharing your thoughts with someone you trust? Take a deep breath and then give yourself the gift of alternative insight. Call someone. That’s the surest way to overserve your soul and underserve your fear. 

I always love your feedback! Free to share your thoughts below or via your preferred social media site.

The Hallway of Change

Most of us know that change is constant because life is ever-evolving. Some people thirst for change and there are those, like me, who dig heels in deeper with a belief that what’s comfortable is just fine. Why switch from the well-hummed rhythm of daily life to learn something new?

Needed change rarely happens without some level doubt and resistance and silent stories that loop in our head about why change isn’t necessary.

I wrote and rewrote those everything-is-fine stories with hope the end would turn out better than what others predicted.

Sure, I drank too much, ate too little, controlled more than necessary, and stayed purposely silent in shame when I could have spoken my truth. That way of life didn’t make sense to anyone but sure did to me.

I knew what would happen when I engaged in things I shouldn’t and perhaps even more important to me, how to circumvent consequences. That well-choreographed dance of unhealthy behavior went on for years until the curtain went down and no one clapped. Self-destruction does have an encore.

For reasons I can only speculate and now quite grateful for, I grabbed that handle on the door marked change rather than the one which indicated my final resting place.

In truth, I stood at the door that promised change for a while. I thought a spec of courage would be enough. I fiddled with the doorknob only to drop my hand. I lingered there until one day I coupled courage with willingness and turned the latch all the way. I’d be a liar if I said there wasn’t part of me that hoped a lock would keep me from what I feared. However, once change comes calling in a way I can’t deny, no lock will keep me stuck.

What I didn’t know then but I certainly do know is, an immediate change wasn’t on the other side. Just because I passed through the door wasn’t a guarantee of something different. That much-needed step out from the fog of fear only led to the hallway of change, not into a complete change that I presumed would meet me there.

Although I could see a door in the distance, I couldn’t yet understand what the attached sign read. I considered a turn back or even investigation into a side door of escape. Yet, what echoed in my ear was that if I did, all the misery and shame and loneliness and fear I once felt would return in an instant.

So, there I stood, listening to the whispers hope and suggestions sprinkled like raindrops from kind and patient people who surrounded me. At times I shut my eyes tight, crossed every finger, and prayed that one of those people would take those hallway steps for me. I learned that’s not how the process works.

Personal change is an inside job, not someone else’s outside fix.

I breathed in what others suggested and embraced any required work for the change I desired. In time, I reached that once distant door only to face even more hallways and farther doors.

Matter of fact, I’m in one of those hallways right now. Even with years of practical experience that proved perseverance, willingness, and asked for help are the means to get from one end of the to the other, I still do not like being in the hallway of change. Not at all.

I feel like a newcomer in recovery, searching for that easier, softer, way toward a hoped-for sense of comfort in new surroundings. I find myself inspecting crevices of the hallway for a quick solution for my unease. Funny how I act even though I learned long ago that what I want, isn’t always what I need.

So, I pause. I find a welcoming spot in that hallway. I breathe. I look around. I listen. I wait. I listen a little harder. Then, when I feel a bit more confident in my next right step, I’ll make my way closer to that distant door.

I may not get there right away and that’s okay. What’s important is that I pay close attention to what I learn along the way. Once embedded, those nuggets of wisdom will influence my approach when life presents me with the unexpected and I find myself in another hallway of change.

A Moment to Breathe

Are you standing at a door of change? Are you hesitating? Maybe you turned the handle and now stand between the door you closed and the one that offers something new. Before you do anything, breathe. Slow your thoughts. Breathe again. Remember, whatever you face, wherever you are, this is not what you’ll face or where you’ll be forever. Put your focus on that next right indicated and head down that hall. Breathe again. You’re on your way. 

I’m interested in how you answer the above questions and if this post influenced your perspective. Feel free to leave me a comment below or share the post with your thoughts via a preferred social media site.

 

The Power of Inspiruption

When was the last time you heard or read something that shot a powerful bolt of inspiration through you? Maybe there was a quick turn of your head to listen closer, or a rapid eye-race back a few paragraphs to assure what you read still rests on the page. For me, the disruption to my train of thought is so sudden, the only words to bounce the walls of my mind are, “Wait. What was that?”

My arms tingle, my mouth goes a bit dry, and I scramble to grab a pen and capture what I mentally took in. In that instant, I feel a heart-to-heart connection to the words, the person sharing them, and the intention for which they are offered. Then, after silent recalibration, everything I thought about a certain subject shifts.

I call this experience an inspiruption. I am inspired to such a degree that my whole sense of what previously made sense is now disrupted.

No doubt I experienced these kinds of sharp-turn realizations earlier in life. Teachers, authors, friends, bosses, even conversations overheard in strange places, pinged me to reconsider things.

Yet never with such intensity than the inspiruptions that led me to gather up the courage to put down my (hopefully) last glass of wine and pick up my first healthy and full fork.

Once in the arms of recovery, I heard the words that to this day can send a shiver through me. Someone looked me straight in the eye and said, “Yeah, me too.”

That small sentence is, perhaps, the single most important recovery blanket of hope and comfort for anyone in recovery. When the sentiment is wrapped around someone filled with fear and doubt and shame, what happens next is an inspiruption of profound measure. The body language cannot be mistaken. Facial muscles relax, shoulders drop, and fists unclinch. I’ve seen this happen right before my eyes and, for me, is nothing short of a miracle in motion.

Many moments of inspiruption have occurred since the day that reaction was mine. These days I surround myself with people and pages that wake me up, pull my breath, or push a tear beyond the walls of my pride; all indicators that more light must shine on a subject subconsciously left dim.

If I chose to disregard these moments of inspiruption, the opportunity for change might be lost. I’ve come way too far and gone through way too much to start denying  what is undeniable.

This is why I strive to keep my ears and eyes on guard in preparation for the next moment of inspiruption. Practical experience proves that when they arrive, what I do next is sure to powerfully change me for the better.

A Moment to Breathe

What came to mind when you considered my initial question? Did something happen as a result of that moment of inspiration? Were you overcome with excitement or startled by fear? If the latter, my suggestion is that when—not if—this happens again, take a deep breath and allow yourself to peak around the corner. What awaits might be a solution for something you never thought possible. Feel free to share your thoughts or experiences as a result of inspiruption here or as you share this post via your favorite social media site.

 

 

Are You An Emotional Fearcaster?

When something is about to happen that you’ve never experienced before, are you instinctively stress-free and calm?

If so I salute you because in most cases, I’m not.

What’s interesting is that I don’t fear the situation, I fear the assumed associated emotions. I lament about my ability to handle possible feelings of failure, rejection, inadequacy, confusion, remorse, or that I’ll somehow feel flawed, helpless, inferior, lonely, or flustered. Sometimes the list can seem endless. This is what I refer to as emotional fearcasting.

Just like the weather forecast is a prediction based on current conditions and not a guarantee of what will occur, I consider emotional fearcasting in the same manner. I forecast my future emotional state based on my current emotional condition and if what’s next feels uncertain, I’m mostly likely in some state of fear.

Instead of trusting a proven past of getting through tough times, I make sweeping assumptions and react rather than respond. I start to panic based on what I imagine rather than breathing in what I know.

Years ago my sought-after solution to calm my fear was a glass of wine combined with numeric verification from piece of metal that I was in control. That is not my solution today. Now I create a plan of action for myself not a plan of attack against myself.

Over time I’ve learned each day offers me an opportunity to learn new things about the world, life, and even myself. If I’m capable of that, then there’s every reason to believe how I feel today could change by tomorrow.

This is why I cannot possibly have a lock on how I’ll feel emotionally down the road. My perspective will have shifted even if only in a very slight way.

For example, when I started this blog. I feared no one would read one word I wrote. I was certain the comments offered would shame me for my lack of literary perfection, word choice, or grammatical expertise. I thought my experience with recovery wasn’t relevant for more than a handful of people. I anticipated failure rather than acceptance and held myself hostage in self-doubt.

None of that came true.

Then I think about the fearcasting I did before college, my first corporate job, marriage, and recovery. I pre-felt all kinds of emotion and feared my inability to manage them once they showed up. However when I finally met with each experience, what I felt was nowhere near the anticipated drama.

I’m most kind to myself when I stay open to the flow of things rather than resist them. If I trust my proven past to help predict my emotional future, fearcasting isn’t for me.

I hope to remain open by taking deep breaths while depending on a forecast for weather not fear-based emotions.

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A Moment to Breathe …

Are you experiencing an emotional fearcaster? What story are you telling yourself about what’s around the corner, down the road, or sometime next year? Are you relying on past emotional experiences to mentally describe how your future ones will turn out? Take a moment to breathe and contribute your thoughts with a comment below or when sharing this post via your favorite social media site. 

My Age? Well, that Depends. How Am I Reacting?

Have you ever shown up to a family function only to leave as a much younger version of yourself?  I sure have.

When out-of-town family members come for a visit there’s always a get-together. Maybe two. I arrive feeling connected and collected but then something happens and suddenly I’m a wobbly teenager lacking the sense of self-confidence I carried through the front door.

This type of mystical age transformation is not new and something I’ve tried to better understand about myself over the past several years.

In the early stages of recovery many suggested I take a good look at who I am from the inside out. Soon what once made sense didn’t and what didn’t make sense started to. One of the more challenging concepts to accept was that most who battle addiction stop growing emotionally when they first feel a positive jolt from using the drug or behavior of choice.

I felt insulted by even the suggestion this could apply to me. I was a grown woman, successful in the eyes of many in my profession. I’d managed multi-million dollar pieces of business, got married, bought a house, invested in the stock market, and traveled the world. Now I’m to believe that because I started drinking and investigating ways to attain a body not meant for me at 13 I’m emotionally stuck at that age? I don’t think so.

But then I remembered my commitment to those guiding me. Based on their suggestion I dug a bit deeper. How had I reacted to tough situations? Was I more tantrum-like than calm? When in a tough relationship conversation, did I push for the last word or raise my voice to take control? How often did I give a laser-burning stare then turn my head with angry snap and storm out hoping the dramatic exit would dominate? Did I deflect, deny or defend my behavior rather than calmly interact with a problematic issue?

The answers to these questions were certainly eye-opening.

There was no denying the truth. I had managed most of my adult life as an emotional teenager.

Clearly there were changes to make, parts to nurture, and memories to reconsider. What I learned from that investigation helps me to respond better and assure my words, actions, and reactions match my age.

However every so often I find myself in an emotionally triggering moment when a look on someone’s face, or the loud sigh from another, can launch me back to an early version of myself with a drink in one hand and a fork at a far distance from the other.

This is the moment for a slow, deep breath. The simple but important pause allows my younger self to step away from reacting so my more mature self can step in and respond to assure I’m taking the next right one.

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A Moment to Breathe…

Do you relate to any of the questions I posed when facing troubling situations?  Is there any possibility for disparity between your birth certificate age and your emotional age?  To consider this idea, find some quiet space and jot down whatever comes to mind. I’ve found keeping these thoughts in my head causes them to endlessly cycle, get more intrusive and eventually seem too big to handle. Another helpful option is to talk these things out with others who may feel the same way. Feel free to use the space below or include your thoughts when sharing this post via your favorite social media site.  

 

Why Asking for Help Wasn’t My First Right Step

Have you ever wondered why, no matter how rationally phrased in your head, the idea of asking for help seems about as reasonable as asking for a snake bite?

Somewhere along life’s way I told myself a story that asking for help meant failure, weakness, and a lack of intelligence. The older I got the more I believed this fictional description if I needed the assistance of others. I went to far as to drop projects if the challenge was too great or the outcome would seem less that perfect.

However no one gets through life without some guidance and I’m certainly no exception. The difference for me was I’d silently pray for guidance rather than ask. When someone would offer unprovoked direction I’d smile, thank them kindly for the “reminder” and move on without any idea of what I needed to learn along the way.

This was exactly the approach I took when the whispers about how much I drank and how little I ate began to filter in. I heard only what I wanted to acknowledge and filtered the rest to suit my comfort zone. If someone mentioned I do something that hit too close to home, I’d consider their words as expressions of judgment and therefore white noise.

Upon reflection I knew I’d hit my “bottom” when I finally became willing to listen for the message not just the words. Yet asking for help didn’t seem possible for me. In truth, I didn’t even know what to ask for.

So I didn’t ask for help I listened for hope.

I paid attention to people who talked about how they achieved what I was (literally) dying to attain. I desperately hung on every word spoken by those who somehow found their way from struggle to freedom and from fear and shame to a place of peace and balance.

More specifically, I sought out people who looked at ease with themselves. I listened for how they spoke of their recovery and in between their slowly distributed words, I watched for a chance to witness their sort of relaxed exhale.

In other words I noted the directional messages offered by people who had what I wanted, a life that made sense.

So my suggestion for anyone struggling with the suggestion they ask for help, seek out those who seem to have what you want, ask them how they got there and pay close attention to their message not just their words.

I’m grateful for my resistance to asking for help because that led me to take my first right step. This simple shift in perspective led me to the directions I needed to get well and saved me from myself.

To this day I still listen to what has worked for others because I’ve learned why asking for help isn’t my first right step.

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A Moment to Breathe…

If you’re having a hard time with the idea you need support, believing the more you do on your own you’re somehow proving you’ve got your life together in a mature manner, perhaps you might consider the benefit of seeking someone’s practical experience instead.  Listening with intention to someone proven trustworthy who experienced the same or similar kind of challenge may lead you down a path to achieve the freedom you desire.  Maybe you’ve done just that and would like to share that how this kind of action was the key to unlock you from self-imposed prison. If so, please leave a comment below or via your favorite social media site. 

Mind the Gap

You know how some random song stays with you long after hearing the first note? What about the phone number from that TV commercial you’ve seen once too often?

What’s so interesting about these mind invasions is how quickly I’m reminded of a time or place when I first heard the song or jingle. I think about the people who were around me and what I was doing. Sometimes I welcome those memories and sometimes do not.

I wonder if these methodical melodies embed themselves for a reason. My sense is they do.

When I was in London one phrase was heard almost daily. The words have not left me and hopefully never will.

Like most metropolitan locations, the exact square-mile city offers various forms of transportation. Of particular preference for me was the underground train system. My cherished prepaid pass allowed quick access to zip from one end of England’s capital to the other. Rarely did I wait long for next train to whisk me toward another exciting (albeit touristy) destination.

Once inside I dodged fellow travelers prepared to exit at the next stop. Perhaps some people get easily frustrated by this kind of jockey-for-position dance but when I heard “Excuse me M’lady” the British accent warmed me like a welcome blanket on a cold day.

When the train would slow in advance of the next station an enchanting, non-intrusive message filled the air to caution exiting passengers they “mind the gap” between the train and the platform.

As the value of my prepaid rail card lessened my confidence for exit-safe foot placement increased. However I became quite fond of the recorded gentle reminder because as the words settled in they began to mean something far more.

How many times have I stood oblivious to what was lurking in the small space between where I am in life and where my next right step will lead? I spend countless hours in contemplation of pros and cons whether to stay put or move forward. Yet I wonder why I put far less effort into consideration of emotions hidden in the small crevice between here and there.

Before I transitioned away from a life of too much booze and not enough food, I launched myself from one situation into another without any concentrated thought of emotional ramifications. I moved in reaction to them not in response of them.

The repeated message in London’s underground warns of possible danger if caught in a manufactured platform gap. The fissure I need to watch out for is the one between what’s comfortably safe and what’s safely uncomfortable.

How interesting. Both require I pause and be mindful of potential consequences while at the same time act as a shield to protect me from possible emotions I’m not prepared for.

Just as no one wants to get caught off guard with their foot stuck between a soon-to-be-moving train and the platform, I don’t want to get caught off guard by unwelcome emotions when I exit a place considered safe.

This is why I cherish the embedded message from London. The words remind me to not only watch my step but to watch my emotions if I don’t mind the gap.

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A Moment to Breathe…

Are you thinking about what next right step might be for you? Are you contemplating a change but resisting the forward motion? Look down. What’s in that gap right in front of you? Does an emotion need your attention before taking action? I’d love for you to offer your thoughts here by leaving a reply or share this post via your favorite social media platform.

Until then, take a moment to breathe.

 

 

If I Only Knew Then What Would Happen When

If you’re anything like me, at one point or another you believed your life would change for the better if something or someone changed first.

Somewhere along the way I taught myself there was a catch to attain what seemed desirable. I’d have to sacrifice something I had or rethink something I believed right.

If I did what as directed at home, school, or work and conducted myself in the same manner as others then surely I’d receive equal praise or reward.

If I liked what they liked, wore what they wore, disliked what they disliked, I then I’d achieve their acceptance.

If I whittled my body down to model-like shape or had one more drink to maintain the buzz, then surely I’d appear more attractive to that guy, get that job and have that fun.

If I did more, gave more, sacrificed more of my time, money or moral standards then surely I’d attain the kind of love, acceptance and happiness everyone else appeared to enjoy.

If I played the part, then I’d get the role. Open the playbill and see my name listed as the sought after girlfriend, beloved daughter, cherished sister, respected boss, irreplaceable employee, and best friend.

If I played the part then surely I’d receive the engagement ring, the promotion, or key to the cool group club in school, at work, or during social situations.

All those self-directed performances brought me to a final bow long after the applause stopped. Little did I know how near-death I’d come from endless attempts to reap rewards beyond my reach.

When I realized the curtain had finally closed I found courage to find a road toward recovery. As I followed pebbles dropped by those who walked before me, I searched for road signs to confirm how much farther until I’d reach my destination. I tapped shoulders along the way and asked for assurances or how to meet my expectations. Most smiled, shrugged those shoulders and explained no one could offer me any of the information I longed for. All they suggested was I stay on the path and remain focused only on the next step not where I wanted those steps to lead.”

I had no idea what that meant.

Throughout most of my life I planned, controlled and manipulated my way based on presumed guarantees.

The endless cycle of messages in my head convinced me if the “then” part didn’t work out the “if” part was to blame. What would happen if I did as they suggested and their recovery plan didn’t work? What would happen then?

I simply could not understand why I needed to eliminate self-imposed ultimatums. Those people who appeared to have their lives well figured out seemed pretty confident the plan they described would help me. Yet when pressed for any kind of guarantee, they were unwilling or unable to provide me the precise detail of how and when I’d achieve what they had.

My life’s landscape had twisted and turned into such personal disaster I came to believe I had nothing left to lose so I gave their blind faith thing a shot.

In time and with a consistent daily effort to stay on the path as suggested, the life I thought I needed turned into the life I always wanted. All those years spent engaged with insidious games of “if/then” or “if/when” left me lonely and confused about how life worked.

Today I’m confident every experience I’ve gone through was necessary to understand where I am today. Yet sometimes in quiet moments I can’t help but consider where my life’s path might have led if I only knew then what would happen when I took my first step toward the unknown.

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A Moment to Breathe …

Think about what “if/then” or “if/when” statements you silently believe. Are you setting yourself up for disappointment or failure? Are you searching for validation that what you truly want out of life is unattainable? What might happen if you dropped the ultimatums and just gave whatever you desire a try?  I’d love for you to share your thoughts here by leaving a comment or via your favorite social media platform. 

Until then, take a moment to breathe.

“God Save the Queen!” How London Saved Me Too.

Ever wonder why we get a better sense of ourselves just by stepping away from the daily grind? Sometimes the opportunity arises so we can wake up to what we’ve taken for granted, belittled, or mindlessly ignored.

For me breaking away has proven key to breaking through.

This was my experience when I sought treatment far from home for alcoholism and years later, a life-threatening eating disorder. In both instances I boarded an airplane to disengage from what I thought was justification for a bottomless wineglass and irregular meal pattern. I needed the distance from my ritualistic lifestyle to fully focus on what needed change and why.

Even after years of self-discovery and lifestyle course correction, I recently found myself in need of yet another change of geography to alter my perspective. This time the destination was one laced with excitement and wonder rather than deflation and shame.

A friend temporarily residing in London invited me for a visit. This being a city I’d long desired to explore, the idea of experiencing the sights, sounds and energy with someone I trust and admire seemed like a dream come true.

However after consideration of timing and finances and commitments spoken or assumed, I declined her generous offer. The silent jury in my mind provided verdict an overseas trip was out of the question.

Yet little did I know my rationale to stay balanced was way off-balance.

I had no idea how deceptive the words were in my deeply hypnotic, mentally written, self-published book, You Can Handle This All By Yourself.

Just like I didn’t become an alcoholic or caught in the throes of an eating disorder overnight, I didn’t succumb to the subtle effects of emotional imbalance like that either.

Years ago I struggled to recognize how desperately I needed to change. The unmanageable aspects of my life came into view when I finally put down the wineglass and picked up the fork. From those days forward I willingly and tirelessly gathered healthier options to navigate everyday situations. Yet this past year I ever-so-slowly inched my way back to believe I as “fine” while deep down I struggled with frustration and anger for what life threw my way.

Well sure enough, just as things fell into place at the right time with the right people to help me get sober and healthy, things fell into place to get me to London. Once there my amazing, caring and often “tough love” friend simply said, “OK, enough. When are you going to tell me what’s really going on. You are clearly not yourself.”

The tears flew as the words tumbled from of my mouth. She gently helped me unwind the knots of denied feelings to rewind what made sense.

Ultimately our conversation was as transforming and remarkable like all those years ago when I released the wineglass grip and number on a scale. Revealing truths I’d denied or sworn to secrecy is like a much-needed exhale after a long-held breath.

London is surely a place where God saves the Queen and this time, saved me too.

(At the entrance of Westminster Abbey)

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A Moment to Breathe…

Take a few minutes to check in with yourself. Listen to that quiet inner voice. What are you hearing? What are you feeling? What are you not saying? What story are you telling yourself to downplay what’s really going on? Consider leaving a few thoughts here or sharing this post via your favorite social media platform because sometimes something as simple as letting go of a thought or two is a great a way to release what’s keeping you stuck.

 

Turning Point: A Beginning or An End?

Have you stood at a turning point in life and wondered how you got there? At this stage haven’t we experienced enough of life to instinctively know which way is best? Why, after so many breathing hours, do we feel utterly paralyzed when in that spot of uncertain decision-making?

If you’re anything life me turning points are where I’m asked to ready myself for the end of one thing to begin something new.  Truth is, I’m not a big fan of ending what I thought was working for me nor do I welcome the start of something new because I don’t like uncertainty and change.

However when I stood at my most significant turning points I was acutely aware they showed up to save my life.

I had to end the way in which I was leading my everyday in order to assure there would be another one.

Let me explain.

Thirteen years ago just after the morning sun rose, I sat alone in my bedroom with a glass of wine in hand wondering if my husband’s request I be gone when he got home was for real. I stood up, walked to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize what I saw in the glass.

I was at a powerful turning point.  I needed to either continue down the deceitful path as an active alcoholic and lose everything emotionally important to me, or turn the other way and get the help I couldn’t give myself.

I turned down the path of help and didn’t look back.  I chose to end what I feared I couldn’t do without to begin what I feared I could not do.

Six years later after decades of struggling with food and body image issues I walked past another piece of glass reflecting back a woman I couldn’t comprehend as me.  In that instant I woke up to how the nutritional choices I’d made (or lack thereof) year after year had taken a tremendous toll.

I was at another equally powerful turning point.  Either try to un-see what I saw or become willing to do the work I intuitively knew was necessary to get well.

My life today proves I chose wisely.

However life doesn’t stop placing me at turning points just because I made a few right turns!

Each day there’s opportunity for me to choose to condemn rather than praise, fester in resentment rather than accept situations for what they are, make assumptions rather than ask pertinent questions, or worse turn my head to what needs my attention.

I’ve learned the changes I need to live authentically won’t occur if I wobble with trepidation and fear down a new path.  I need to remain willing to keep going because if I do, change willingly comes toward me.

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A Moment to Breathe….

Are you standing at a turning point in your life?  Are you resisting a decision that scares you?  What’s holding you back?  Just for today maybe you cease analyzing, projecting and fearing what lies ahead long enough to realize why you’re standing at the turning point in the first place.  Is there something you need to learn where you stand?  Often by acknowledging what keeps us stuck is the very thing we need to get unstuck! Feel free to leave a comment here or share via your favorite social media network.