I’ve definitely written stuff today.

I’ve also definitely deleted stuff today.

I’m not following my own rules.

I’m thinking way too much about what I’m doing and saying.

I said I wasn’t going to edit or critique or do any of that stuff that ends up making this process take so long that I end up running out of time in the day.

I think maybe I need some new rules. Like I’m not allowed to completely delete or skip a topic once I’ve started writing about it. I need to simplify and stick to just the simple process of writing something everyday without caring what it is or what someone else is going to get (or not get) from it.

I’m so glad I get a fresh new start each morning.

“What the shiz?!”

Do you even know what “shiz” is? I find myself using the word “shiz” a lot lately. I honestly don’t even know where I picked it up. I don’t even know if “s-h-i-z” is the correct spelling of “shiz”. I’m not even going to look it up on google to see if it’s there or if I’m even using it correctly in a sentence when I’m saying it in my head 52 times a day. It’s my word and I’ll use it if I want to. If it was already a word, too bad, it’s MY word now.

Here’s my real question though… if I say any of the following phrases:

“Why the shiz did you just do that?”

“What the shiz?!?”

“Shiz happens.”

“Holy shiz!”

“I shiz you not…”

Would you be offended? Seriously, I want to know. When someone uses a “non-word swearword” in place of a real swearword, does it offend you?

Honestly, I don’t know what the shiz I’m saying. I just needed to get my writing in for day 3.

Wait, what?… WHAT???

Have you ever felt two completely opposite feelings entwine within you? One of disbelief and belief rolled up together inside of you to form this unexplainable harmonious contentment?

Disbelief, because the world has taught you that you should never expect anything amazing or truly meaningful to happen to you. It’s told you to stay in your little box where it’s safe and no mistakes can be made. A place where no one can really see you because you’re just ordinary and un-special and you have no power or right to influence the world.

Belief, because you’ve realized that what is within you is not meant for you to keep hidden away. You now know the value you posses is so massive that it has to be shared with the world. Knowledge that your existence on this earth is not about you, but about impacting another’s existence. You are not the gift to the world, but the courier who delivers the package most eyes can’t see on their own.

So yeah, I was totally minding my own business last night. You know, checking the email before I shut the light off for the night. There was the expected message giving me the little nudge to make sure I kept up with my new goal of writing ESD (every single day). I scrolled through it and found links at the bottom to other samples of writing along with other connections to the author’s media pages. “Click”.

I start reading, realizing that something feels familiar. I feel my pulse start to quicken as I start to scan the article. I come upon a graphic. I read the perfectly positioned, emphasized, and quoted words on this picture that melds seamlessly with them. Heart pounding my mind yells, “Those are MY words!”

His words. His words said things like, “She said in such a way that I knew we connected” and “She says what I hoped, dreamed, but never truly expected readers would get from my book.”

You need to know a couple of things. First, that review I wrote on Amazon about his book, it’s the first review I’ve ever written on Amazon for a book. Second, as I was writing it, just letting the words flow from me, I second guessed my words thinking that, “This isn’t really a review. I’m just telling the story of what happen to me and how I feel about it. No one is going to care about this. A book review should give specific details on the content of the book. Oh well, I’m not changing it because this is what this book is to ME.”

What if I would have let the voice of the world, that was playing in my head, sway me into deleting my words? What if I had changed them to fit into the neat little paragraph that gave specifics about the content? What would I have missed??? What would Bradley Charbonneau have been deprived of?

A connection. A contentment. A kindred spirit. The loss would have been great. What we gave each other is priceless. Something that couldn’t be given or received at any other moment in time.

View at Medium.com

Two days ago I came across a book and devoured it. It was delicious to my soul. This writing is a direct response to what I read and internalized. Today is a historic day… the first day of writing every single day.

I had big plans to get out of bed at 5:00 am so that I could start this grand new adventure just right! With the perfect early morning time stolen away just for me and my writing. I hit the snooze button… like 3 times. Somewhere around 5:30ish am, my husband mumbled a question resembling asking why I set my alarm so early. I told him it was day 1 of my new goal to write every single day and I wanted to steal some private time in the mornings to do it. But, I decided I didn’t need to do that today, since I’ll already have time to myself with the kids going back to school after having 2 weeks off for spring break. I still have a week off before I go back to work.

So anyway, this guy, the author of this book I just read, says to do your daily writing in a public space. Set up a free blog. I’m like, well I already have a writing blog that has been sadly neglected. I guess I’ll just use that. I mean, why not?

If you’ve read my previous writings here on my blog, you know my writing to this point has contained a lot of previous life experiences I’ve been through. To be honest, I have no idea where it’s going to go from here. It might end up a big jumbled mess just like everything that resides in my head.

Here’s what’s going to go down. I’m letting go of expectations for myself. The only rule I’m going to follow, is the rule that I must write something ESD (every single day). That’s it. And I’m just going to click the publish button when I’m done. I’m not going to go back through to edit and evaluate and rethink 127 times what I’ve just written and if I should let people read it. I’m not going to question if it’s good enough to let people see it. I’m just going to do it. No restrictions. No editing of content. No second guessing what I just put in writing. It will be raw.

That’s it. No more squashing my desire to write. I know I’m meant to write. I will not deny myself this anymore. The fear of not succeeding at the one thing that has always been in my heart and soul to do is not going to stand in my way anymore.

Bring on day 2!

The following was written over 2 months ago. My CrossFit journey continues to evolve. Every day I’m developing greater strength and greater friendships. It truly has been a blessing.

I’ve been CrossFitting for over 4 months now. It’s CRAZY when I think about it! I’ve imagined writing about my experience here many times and I just totally dropped the medicine ball. (That’s CrossFit humor) I wanted to take some time to express the many feelings I’ve had as I’ve progressed on this particular journey.

The first day I walked in that door was terrifying! Honestly I’m not sure how I actually got there. The day before I was feeling especially down about my health issues. I was feeling so tired of feeling tired and sick and like I was a physically broken person who had huge limits on what she could do physically. I was tired all day everyday. I constantly felt like I was failing because I spent so much time laying down accomplishing nothing other than survival. I was tired of surviving.

I knew I had to do something to get myself moving more. I knew I wouldn’t commit to anything on my own. I needed to be accountable to someone. In the past I had never stuck to any type of exercise routine for very long. When it got hard I would just stop and tell myself it wasn’t really making any difference any way. I told myself I wasn’t a physically fit type of person that could do any kind of intense exercise. My body was too weak.

I sent a text message to the one person I knew had knowledge about exercise and working out. She told me I could meet her at the gym one day and try out a CrossFit class for free. She said she’d help guide me through it and it would be fun. I told her I would meet her there the next morning because I knew if I waited I would change my mind and decide I couldn’t do it.

So that’s how I ended up at the CrossFit gym.

My first day walking through the door was so far out of my comfort zone. The only thing that got me through the door was repeating to myself that I was brave and could do hard things. I had to focus on my reason for going and not on whether I thought I could actually do it. I really had no idea what to expect. I had never been to a class like this.

It turned out that the class I showed up for was not a typical CrossFit class. It was a posterior chain class meant to focus on building strength in the posterior of your body. It involved a lot of different exercises and moving to different stations. Wait, let me back up… the class actually started with a warm-up. Apparently it was important to stretch and warm up your body before doing the actual workout. I had heard of this before. I could hardly do the “warm-up” exercises. After ten minutes of warming up and stretching I thought my workout for the day should be done. I was breathing hard and my body felt tired. I couldn’t do “simple” things like go down into a squat and stand back up or do a lunge. I was weak and my balance sucked. I was shaky. I was behind the group on every move we did.

Now onto the actual workout of the day, otherwise known as the WOD. Every move I did felt foreign and weird. My friend guided me every step of the way and I was thankful for that. By the end of class, I felt like the weakest person in the room and like I didn’t belong there at all. I was completely out of my element.

That morning was the beginning step of what would become something amazing and beautiful in my life. Four months later I’m still the weakest person in the room, but I’m a physically and mentally stronger me. I consider every day I walk through the door a victory.

Here’s what I’ve found for myself in CrossFit…

It’s hard work! By the end of a workout I feel like I couldn’t possibly do one more rep of anything. During the workout it takes every fiber within me to push myself to keep going and not just stop because I’m tired and feel like I have no fuel or energy left. It’s strictly my mind just telling myself that I will keep going. I tell myself all that matters is that I keep moving. It doesn’t matter how fast I go, I just have to keep going.

The days that I go to CrossFit I feel better overall. My mental state is in a better place because I feel like I’ve accomplished something for the day no matter what else I do that day. My energy level is better in the sense that I feel more motivated to keep going and get other things done. I’m still tired everyday, and most days I do end up taking a nap if I can find the time, but I don’t feel nearly as guilty about taking that time to rest my body when I know I’ve worked it hard and done my best.

There have been moments when I’ve felt frustrated about the fact I can’t look in the mirror and measure my progress or accomplishment. I wasn’t overweight when I started, so losing weight hasn’t been a goal and I don’t see my body shrinking. I’ve actually put weight on and that has been hard to get my mind around. Especially since I feel a difference specifically in how my pants fit. My thighs have definitely grown and probably my butt as well. Everything is tighter in the thigh. My whole life I believed my butt and thighs were too big, they were my “problem area” that I wished I could change. I remember being called a bubble butt when I was younger and I always felt like my butt was something I needed to hide because it was too big. Now I’m learning to embrace that part of my body and accept it how it is and the fact that it’s probably going to get bigger and not smaller by doing these workouts. I actually find quite a bit of humor in it.

Because I tend to hyper focus on one specific thing at a time, my writing has suffered. My focus has been more on CrossFit. But, looking at what I’ve accomplished and seeing how consistent I’ve been has given me a new sense of well-being and that I am capable of things that I’ve thought I wasn’t. It’s making me look at limitations I put on myself to evaluate them. I’m looking at my writing and telling myself that if I can make the time to CrossFit 5 days a week, then I can also make the commitment to myself to write at least 5 days a week as well. This is my new goal. It doesn’t matter what I write, all that matters is that I sit down on those days and take the time to write something. I know that the more I write, the better I will get at expressing myself and sharing things in a way that people can understand and have a desire to read. It’s a process. Yes, I already feel like I am good at expressing myself through words, but I can always get better. Writing everyday is what I need to do to get closer to achieving my ultimate goal of writing and publishing my life stories and having the world accept them and appreciate them. To have the world be moved in some way by the things I share. To have an individual that I don’t know be affected by my story. That is my dream and goal. It’s time to stop avoiding what I really want and know I’m meant to do just because I’m scared that I might not accomplish it. I will start taking more and more steps to make my dream a reality and I will not give up on it. I’ve known for most of my life that I was supposed to do this. I will not deny myself the fulfillment of what I know God planned for me to do and gave me the gift to do.

I haven’t published any writing in over 3 months! This doesn’t mean I haven’t written anything. I have actually written several things, but I’ve been talking myself out of publishing anything because they haven’t felt “perfect” or “good enough”. I feel like every time I write something, I need to go back through it twenty times to make sure it makes sense and will feel relevant to my readers. Maybe I’m putting too big a qualifier on it. Maybe I’m gripping it too hard. Maybe I just need to let even the rough stuff be out there just so it doesn’t stay hidden here within me. I want my writing to continue to develop and get better. I’ve felt like it needs to get better and better for me to share it. I need to get back to the reason I started writing this blog in the first place… to express whatever I want with no limitations or judgement on myself. I want my experiences to touch and inspire someone else… I believe this is relevant and important to my personal journey.

I love writing… it’s in my core… I need to let it flow.
Time to see if I can push myself forward and let even more of my imperfections show.
Do it Peggy! Do it anyway, even if it’s not perfect!

As I awoke this morning I marveled at the quiet. The muffled quiet. I was overwhelmed with the realization of what I wasn’t hearing…

Have you ever worn ear protection for an activity? Like shooting a gun or attending a monster truck show? Do you remember what it felt and sounded like when you finally pulled the plugs out of your ears? That release of pressure and your ears being able to breathe again? The sudden clarity of sound around you? It’s almost a feeling of relief, right? Relief to be functioning normally again and have all your senses working.

Now imagine the opposite. Taking something OUT of your ears and suddenly everything is muffled. It sounds like you actually just stuffed something IN your ears to block the sound. You have a sense of being within yourself and disconnected from the outside world. There’s a barrier. THIS is what it feels like in my consciousness when I pull the hearing aids out of my ears. THIS is the life I have been living for the last twenty plus years. The muffled disconnected life.

Slap. It stings. The sadness of knowing how separated I have been from the hearing world. What I’ve missed. What I haven’t been able to see with my ears. The feeling that something was stolen from me. It was taken away. I was naive. I was completely ignorant to so many things around me because I could not hear them. Now I know and I can’t un-know.

There’s a deep mourning in the pit of my heart. The picture of what I’ve been missing is coming more and more into focus.

The magnitude is heavy.

I put the devices in my ears and suddenly I hear everything. It’s the polar opposite. Sounds are magnified. I can hear my hair brush against my ear. There are moments when it’s too much. Sensory overload. My ears will never function the way God intended ears to function. Everything is magnified or nothing is. All or nothing. That’s how it feels. I have to endure the feeling that the person standing near me is talking loudly if I want to be able to hear the person across the room who’s talking to me. I have to hyper focus on splitting the sounds and separating them.

Hearing aids are not magic. Hearing aids don’t make a non-hearing person hear like a normal person. They amplify sound. Before the hearing aids I would always have to put my energy, every ounce of willpower, into hearing people. That experience is completely different from where my focus has to be with the hearing aids in. I’ve totally changed a part of myself that my brain now needs to figure out how to navigate.

I feel sadness. As I laid in bed ruminating over what I’ve lost, a passage came to my mind…

Ecclesiastes 3:1-15
1 To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
9 What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?
10 I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it.
11 He hath made every thing beautiful in his time; also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
12 I know that there is no good in them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life.
13 And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labour, it is the gift of God.
14 I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him.
15 That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past.

I will allow myself a time to mourn. I won’t shove it away. I won’t pretend it’s not there. I won’t berate myself for feeling it. I won’t tell myself I’m ungrateful for what I do have. I won’t belittle feeling loss.

I will weep. I will mourn. I will embrace.

And when I’m done weeping, mourning, and embracing; I will then laugh. I will then dance. I will refrain from embracing.

And…

I will SING!!! I will sing, because for the first time I can hear what my voice sounds like when it sings! I don’t have to mouth the words, I can make the sounds of singing a word and not worry about what it might sound like to those who can hear it… now I will KNOW what it sounds like and I KNOW it will be beautiful.

As I continue to uncover pieces of my health I can’t help but wonder if it’s a result of keeping everything in for so long.

This last year of personal change since my mom passed away has been unique. To say that my mom’s passing has had a significant impact on my life would be an extreme understatement. So much change and growth has taken place. My willingness to look deeper inside myself and find what’s inside. The peeling away of layers of my mask that I’ve been wearing my whole life. Letting the hurt, scars and pain show on the outside. Letting stories be what they are. Letting go of being concerned about what people on the outside will think or say. Allowing complete freedom to be who I feel guided to be. Releasing bands of restriction.

How much damage have I done through the years by hoarding my story? Keeping it a secret. Keeping all of the secrets. There has always been this longing in me to put into words everything that has existed inside my mind… to let it go outside of myself. To just put it all out into the atmosphere and let it float and go where ever it decides it needs to go. I knew I wasn’t meant to keep it all to myself, but I did anyway. I let fear of judgement stop me. I can now see that denying that urge to let it go has potentially caused me a lot of self injury. Was it the catalyst for tipping that first domino that has lead to my body declaring war on itself? One domino after another has fallen… how many are left. Is it too late to stop them? Can I at least slow them down? Can I rebuild? Can I use my cascade of destruction to prevent someone else from setting their own endless flow in motion?

I feel more than ever the urgency to keep telling, sharing, dumping everything out of my mind. Let it all gush out regardless of what it looks like. Break free of all expectations of what the words should say or express… just let them fall where they do. Let go of trying to organize every thought or make it have some sense of order. Just let the memories fall out and cleanse my soul.

What will be left? What will there be room for once I clear out the space? How will it change my health? How will it affect my future? Where will my next steps lead?

I can feel the flood… the dam is cracking…