Tuesday, August 4, 2020

I had to lose my job to learn this...

Imagine with me for a moment one of the following scenarios that have befallen pretty much every single one of us...

You're minding your own business, leading a productive day in the life when, BAM! you come to the knowledge that:

Your special someone has been cheating on you.

OR

That super important appointment you made a month ago was canceled without any indication until the scheduled day.

OR

Your boss informs you, without any prior warning, that the specific work you do today will be reviewed by the higher ups who are making a surprise visit tomorrow, or better yet, right before the end of your shift today.

ORRRRRR

You have melanin. In America. That's it.

ORRRRRRRRRREEEEEE

You can't finish your pasta so you have to decide whether you want to throw the rest away or risk embarrassment by getting up to ask for a to-go box.

OR

You got a less than acceptable grade on a test that you studied your hardest for and know very well that you're in for the parental tongue lashing of your life when you get home.

WHAT DO ALL OF THESE SCENARIOS HAVE IN COMMON?

~Stress & Anxiety~

"Bitch, you guessed it."

My discerning readers, this is a third entry in a series exploring my years long struggle with food, and it wouldn't be complete without taking a hard look at anxiety.

I'm not looking up the studies but I think we all can easily assume that anxiety is ravaging our society unlike any other mental or physical illness we are facing. How many of those examples above have you experienced yourself? Furthermore, how many of these kind of instances do you deal with on a daily or weekly basis?

I wish daily that my anxieties would vanish. For every trouble that makes my heart beat uncontrollably, makes my hands tremble and my mind juggle all sorts of horrible outcomes-- aka the fight or flight response-- I must take initiative to calm myself before I unintentionally cause harm. For years, that is what food has been for me.

Food is my comfort.

It's amazing how the human body was made; all that we eat is used in some way to bring the body back to a homeostasis from the stresses recently put upon it. We eat ginger to ease nausea. We eat turmeric to decrease inflammation. Well, junk food or American comfort food serves a purpose, too. It isn't healthy in the long run but it does fill an immediate need.

So, actually, junk food is unlike the other two because while the former have long lasting benefits, the effects of junk food do not last very long at all. A substance we take to ease symptoms of the body and mind is called a drug.

Food is my drug.

Guess what: if you habitually eat fast, happy-hormone-releasing foods in response to the negative things happening to you, and you miss it like a loved one when it's gone, you're on a drug. Period.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

I am very happy to know this. I am now forced to examine my daily life, to pinpoint where the stress comes from, who it comes from, and note my immediate feelings and reaction to it. This is the first step to real change, besides realizing I have a problem.

The effect of a constant anxiety has not only shaped my body and mind but my personality as well. A fear of being manipulated has frozen my confidence. When asked for my opinion or desires, I normally react in a very shy, undecided kind of way. My tendency is to go with the flow, to not disturb anyone else's plans or give a reason for others to question their motives.

At one time my brother asked me where I wanted to go for dinner. Our sister or mother usually had more preferences so my immediate response was, "Wherever they want to go is fine with me." He then had to repeat himself as he had asked me where I wanted to eat, not them. I had my own preferences but strangely, I couldn't think of them in the moment because I was not accustomed to considering myself.

I knew what it was like to be guilted into feeling or doing something unpleasant, or coerced to behave contrary to how I was feeling ("You're suppose to say good morning" "You're suppose to smile" "If you're not going to be grateful, you can leave." "You'll have more fun if we do this instead of what you wanted to do.") I couldn't bring myself to even approach being handed control of the wishes and feelings of others. Such a power is easily abused.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Anxiety is finely woven into everything we do, so much so that instead of using our precious time growing like a fruiting tree, we must spend that time constantly replenishing the calm stolen from our spirits. We have to find something, anything that produces a feeling to overcome the dis-ease inside us. If unchecked, it becomes not only what we do but who we are. An obese person, an alcoholic, a smoker.

What if, instead, we were a painter, an athlete, a musician? What if we possessed the power to effortlessly turn our stresses into the most beautiful art forms? I often wonder how an artist's pain was translated so well into their song or dance. I bet it takes practice.

The people who cause the most stress in my life don't know that's what they represent to me. They don't know what I do to cope with my exposure to them. Except... they should know. After all, they have people in their life who make them anxious. What would make them think for a second that they aren't capable of the same affliction? I'm sure that if they had the courage to tell their oppressor how they felt outright, they wouldn't hold anything back. Maybe it's a matter of how much empathy one has, but it would break my heart to be given a report like that. However, I would listen and I would apply.

This begs my discerning readers to be self-aware. The ways in which we are treated and handle anxiety first begins by looking inward at how we react to the triggers around us, how we manage our relationships. There's a great deal in this world that we can't control, and honestly, if we were given any more control than our basic rights allow us, it wouldn't end well for us. The last thing you ever want to do is steal free will, for what we sow, we reap. The only person we can control is ourselves. Working on that skill alone is a huge endeavor that must not be taken lightly by any of us.

My eyes are being opened to the things I once tried to dull and sweep under the rug due to a distracted lifestyle, a reality rife with anxieties around every corner that I never had time to cope with healthily. A bright future begins when I release food's control over my emotions. It might take a while but I'm working on it and that's what matters.♢

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

Book Review: Black Beauty by Anna Sewell (No Spoilers)

Genre: Fiction
Stars: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/5

"Every single person should read this book. I learned so much about horses, and much about people as well. Whether or not horses possess the awareness portrayed in this story, it does a fantastic job of making its readers aware of just how precious and important are our non-human friends. Sewell did well to acknowledge the Creator of animals and people. She presented such a flawless knack for making us feel a deep compassion for the characters. By the end, a gratefulness for life was renewed within me. Also I appreciated the easy length of each chapter, they were no chore to read (perhaps to benefit the children for whom this was originally written). Such a timeless story. Easy five stars."








                 





                    Illustrated by Andrew Davidson

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Monday, July 20, 2020

I can't see past this...

In season 4 of Downton Abbey, Lady Edith finds out she is expecting a child with her lover who has gone missing. For fear of being shunned and shamed, she is determined to have the pregnancy aborted. She becomes so stressed and hopeless since she believes no one would dare be connected with her once it's widely known that she has a child outside of marriage. 

When she is sitting in the lobby of the secret hospital, she tells her aunt, her one confidant, "I can't see past (over) this" in order to convince herself that she's doing what is necessary to save her reputation. However, instead of going through with it, she quickly changes her mind. She must hide the child, who she loves more than life itself, for a long time. In the end, she marries a wonderful man, who entrusts her with a higher ranking title than her parents or sister, and her family is reunited in love and acceptance.

Gosh, I love that show.












This homebody era we all find ourselves in has given me time to not only catch up on series such as the amazingly wonderful Downton Abbey, but also to reexamine why I do the things I do. One such thing is understanding why I allow myself to eat far and away more than I ought, resulting in my current sub-par state of health.

After lots of ruminating on the topic, it turns out that I suffer from a very specific mindset that possessed Lady Edith and many others in dire situations, although my situation is very different. My feelings become so strong, I am unable to see past the current moment without acting on my feelings (or fears). There are days when I want ice cream so terribly that I somehow convince myself that there is no tomorrow, no next week, no next year until I get my ice cream. A bit dramatic, I know. But just like Lady Edith, I don't want to be uncomfortable. I don't want to suffer through the hardship of denying myself the easy way out.

This trope is rife through cinema, by the way. In every other film you watch, you will witness a character make a hasty decision in order to change their fate, which they later regret. Panic-stricken and unable to predict the future (though, in some cases, their panic is caused by knowing the future), they begin a chain of events they can't undo. It's one of the most realistic plot devices you will ever see in the movies, minus the dramatic fluff.

Having faith is easier said than done, but it's the key antidote to panic. Faith and trust. Do I believe God will deny me ice cream for the rest of my life if I decide to say no to it once? And even if He did, would He do it to hurt me? Absolutely not. If I lost my job; if I am unjustly accused; if I receive a difficult diagnosis; if I was expecting a child I did not plan for, what would I do next? Would I panic and act without thinking? I would hope not because if there is one law of reality that we can depend on, it is that things always change.

But God doesn't.

Thank goodness my biggest dose of panic lately only involves sugary treats. I will have to learn to sit through the suffering and have faith that I'll survive it. I mean, I know I will, but it will be difficult. If I can master this one area, who knows what I can achieve!♢

This has been my second post in a series I am devoting to my food addiction. Subscribe to read what comes next!

Tuesday, July 14, 2020

Book Review: Ready Player One by Ernest Cline (Minor Spoilers!)

Genre: Fiction (LitRPG, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Dystopian)
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐/5

"Very entertaining! This novel made me want to be even more of a geek and embrace the culture in new ways. Everything about this was so incredibly smart, especially the protagonist, Wade. He was able to thoroughly wrap his mind around two worlds: a crumbling, ever-more destitute Earth and an extremely complex simulated world, with a fabricated identity. I was increasingly impressed with his diligence to facts about Halliday, and his perseverance to win. As for the latter world, how completely incredible would it be to create an entire world devoted to every subject you love for others to roam and live in? The idea that such a universe could exist is both fantastic and terrifying. I appreciate the realness of Wade's relationships, and I am very satisfied with the ending. Lastly, I believe the movie did a good job of matching the novels epic qualities (however, the book is always, always better)."
Sequel Ready Player Two to be published Nov. 24, 2020


Check out:
More awesome Ready Player One inspired art!
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The book!
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Wednesday, July 8, 2020

Book Review: The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis (Minor Spoilers!)

Genre: High Fantasy
Series: The Chronicles of Narnia, book 6/7 (1/7 chronologically) 

"I've read this story many times and I enjoy it every time. Back when I wasn't as mature of a reader as I am now, I did not appreciate Lewis's seemingly endless descriptive style. I now realize how similar my own writing style is to his. The way he describes a character or a character's feelings, or a grand turn of events, or the splendor of Narnia is so complete and satisfying. This story is shorter than its contemporaries which makes it a suitable work for young readers who want to delve into classic fantasy. The wisdom of the book's God character, Aslan, as well as the many homages to the Biblical story of creation are wonderful. At completing it I wish Narnia were real."






Read it for yourself! https://g.co/kgs/uutMnp

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Tuesday, July 7, 2020

For the love of food...

Why is it such a big deal to so many people?


If you haven’t already, it’s time we started addressing our addictions.


I think a prime reason why I created this blog was to show others that it’s OK to be vulnerable. Or, at least, it should be OK. The world we live in is often so incredibly harsh and judgmental, and our lives are so busy that we aren’t given the proper time and resources to help heal our addictions. However, we all have at least one. You aren’t alone in your struggle.


Some addictions have a quicker road to death than others. Still, I can relate to an habitual drinker because I am an habitual eater for the same reasons. Life throws unexpected hurdles at us, often without relent. The need for control grows, and, unfortunately, our indulgences often become the only thing in which we have a say. We all have an addiction and, hopefully, we are learning how to overcome them.


For me personally, learning about myself has become one of the greatest thrills of my life.


DISCLAIMER: At the current moment, I cannot draw from research done by scientists or others who have gone to a university to study facets of mental and physical health like addiction. Actually, I could but I won’t. This isn’t that kind of blog. My life is already just oodles of classroom time.


My addiction to food has no exact start or end date. Food, for me, has always had a way of wrapping its arms around me. It has been an exceeding comfort. We’ve all had times in our lives when nothing could quite console us in the way we needed, right? Whether things went wrong or right, food has always been a top consideration, either for celebratory or soothing purposes.


This is how food became a big deal to me..


In my early teens, it seemed as if everything and everyone I had ever been accustomed to was stripped from me almost in an instant. My parents took me out of public school as well as the church of my early girlhood. Around the same time, I began to notice, though mostly subconsciously, that my older siblings had lives of their own and less time to spend with me. All of these situations aren’t inherently bad, they just weren’t done in ways a kid could fully grasp. What probably screwed it up the most, from my perspective, was that my parents, like most parents, weren’t entirely sure what they were doing in the moment. They were trying to do what they felt was right while figuring out their own feelings and coping with our changing family dynamic in their own way. While it wasn’t their intention, the change they put their children through, without fully explaining the whole situation to us, impacted us in ways they were too preoccupied to see.


You see, parents, kids notice and are affected by a whole lot more than you think.


A period of my life began when I had little to no grounding. I was flung into an emotional, spiritual limbo. I felt betrayed. An semi-emo version of Kate emerged (or maybe I was a normal, frumpy teenager but didn’t know it because I had no point of reference.) I listened to metal, even to fall asleep, because the screaming through the headphones became the only noise loud enough to drown out the noise in my head. Extra baggy sweaters were nearly my entire wardrobe. I felt alone. I was still too young to engage in the grownup problems surrounding me, though I was heavily affected by them. The past became my permanent residence. 


I understand the reasons why my parents did what they did now… But gosh… as a kid… All I knew was that my world was being flipped upside down. It didn’t help to have constant pressure to do and be all that this world forces upon its young people before they’re ready. I already had trouble making friends due to shyness and low self-esteem. Imagine how confused I was when the friends I did have suddenly weren’t around anymore. 


This is why my mid-teenage years are a flat-out blur. It seemed the only thing I was good for was eating all that I was given and more. I ate everything my sister couldn’t due to allergies. I was a vacuum cleaner, like teen-age Monica Geller when her parents offered her the remaining Thanksgiving pies because there was no more room in the fridge. I knew I had a problem but zero solutions. The fondest and clearest memory of those years was playing pretend restaurant with my sister and our home school companion. Surprisingly, I was always the hostess, not the customer. Apart from that, those years were worth little to me except a skip button.


Food had always been the one thing I could depend on since my earliest years. At times it was the only appeaser of strong, haughty, fretful emotions, the only way to bring those I knew and loved together. We all enjoyed food. (Who doesn’t?) I usually couldn’t wait for my next meal or snack; they were the highlight of my day. Since forever, I’ve easily eaten enough for four people. But food took a whole new meaning for me when I began earning my own money.


For the first time in my life, I had a say in what filled the gap in my soul.


For someone who had no say in anything truly important, the ability to walk out of a Walmart with a bag full of Reese’s candies is unmatched. 


I should point out that this was around the time when I began participating in theatre productions, so my world was finally expanding in other ways, too. Of course, ultimately, junk food is less of a hassle and not as expensive.


This was only the beginning of a story that does indeed get brighter.


It’s clear now that becoming an addict doesn’t have to involve devastating tragedies. It isn’t always caused by a loved one passing away or doesn’t always implicate engaging with the wrong crowd. A crucial piece of you just has to be missing. However, sudden, serious changes of scenery, as well as changes in how loved ones get along with each other is aggrandized in the eyes of a naive youngster.


Food became what I depended on to lift my mood. I used it to feel something that I can put a name to. I wasn’t sure what was going on around me but I understood when I was full and when I needed a nap. I naturally possess a lot of empathy, so I also used food to draw attention to my own feelings, and not only detach from reality, but detach from the feelings of others, which I couldn’t change. 


Some may believe that a food addiction is better than drinking or drugs or sex, but is it, really? Don’t we all just want to mute the world, to have our needs met? Won’t we all die an untimely death if something doesn’t change?


Completely shaking off these things we have an unhealthy dependence on takes time. There’s no other way around it until I look it straight in the face and call it out for what it is. It’s a path to ruin, for myself and those who come after me. They didn’t do it intentionally but my parents did have a hand in suggesting this habit to me. Do I possess the power to overturn my future children’s fates? Generational curses are no laughing matter.


This was just the first of what will be many more findings on this inner conflict. As a last thought for now, I want to address the responsibility to ourselves and each other that we all ought to own. While there’s credit to how much outside help can make us improve ourselves, it isn’t totally realistic. I can’t be everyone’s bosom buddy through their personal journey to freedom, as much as I wish I could be. I certainly can’t expect any one person to watch my every waking moment to make sure I don’t binge again. That is no one person’s job.


But I do believe it is our individual responsibility to work on ourselves and, in turn, use our personal stories to bless others. Our cultures and societies are a culmination of sick or healthy individuals. We must lift each other up. We cannot make promises but we can assure each other that if God can fix one person, He can surely fix another, if we let Him. Stay connected to the blog to see how He has been doing that for me.♢


Are you working through a similar inner conflict? Please consider leaving a comment, I want to encourage you personally. Also there’s a friendly face over at my YouTube channel @TheKatieLady, to support your everyday inner peace and happiness, for my discerning readers to check out.


Monday, June 29, 2020

To review a friendship...

Oh, where do I begin?







Let's begin with my admission, that this friendship ending was my doing and mine alone. My intention for this entry is not to expose the other person, but to expose myself. (Forgive the weird choice of words.)


Dear discerning readers, I have been compelled to go against human nature and take responsibility for something that went wrong in my life. Something that went wrong during a time of bitterness and resentment, when I thought I was not in the wrong. It has been one of the hardest times for me as I've spent countless hours recounting good and bad, rummaging through excuses and lamenting over lost time. Where did my friendship go awry?


After too many ideas, the very last one presented to me were my own expectations.


Expectations…


The friendship-- its twists and turns-- clarified my definition of a friend, for me. Over time I was able to gather a list of what I wanted in an ideal companion, or, in more specific terms, a best friend. It became easy to see what I liked and what I didn't enjoy. Instead of expressing those desires, afraid of hurting their feelings, I bottled them up and constantly placed the person beside a near perfect standard that they were unable to achieve in that phase of their life.


(What the heck is a "Best friend"? Thanks a lot, Hollywood.)


You see, there were times when I didn't vision this person as a person, but as a savior. They were everything fun and supportive and all that I needed in that depressing era of my late teenage life, because they had to be. I couldn't see past them. Who would understand me as well as they did, ever? So they must be the best-est of friends, no matter what.


Gosh, how ignorant, and how freaking awful I helped things to become...


In truth, I had originally planned to expose many details of my experience. As I typed with fury, my page began to look more and more like my diary than a document that I would want to share with others. I was creating a map of my feelings. There was still much to understand about my desires and why they are so important to me.


But therein lies the missing key…


MY desires. MY vision. MY beliefs. Those special qualities that I consider in a companion are mine only. The other person had their own definition of a best friend and had different emotional needs. It took me so long to acknowledge the very obvious fact that every person on this Earth defines friendship differently and my definition, as wonderful as it is, does not and would not work for everyone. 


Could it really be true that not everyone values the same special, honest, endearing and enduring qualities that I value?? But I'm such a good person! My goodness, how laughable my attitude was!


You guys, my mind was blown. It saddened me a little but the clarity was worth it.


Truly, I've written so many versions of this post, but they all led to a selfish place. There is nothing wrong with taking my desires seriously. I believe many beautiful things could come out of the qualities I want. Those desires I have for a golden friendship, they are valid. Growth. Trust. Loyalty. Accountability. The ability to sit together in silence without awkwardness and also talk together into the small hours. But those qualities aren't forced. As much as they mean to me, no one else can have my heart or my experience, which is where these qualities were conceived.


You see, I grew up telling myself a lie. After a few instances of innocent abandonment in childhood, when I saw the people I treasured most, go off to play and smile more than they did while with me, my self-esteem began to die. 


Was it my extra large t-shirt size, or my skin color or my hair texture? Was it my family, or my quiet, less than rambunctious nature? Or was it just harsh, normal reality being viewed through the lens of an adolescent who didn't know any better than "he/she spends more time with him/her so I must not be good enough"? Then the disappointment seemed to repeat itself well into my late teens. I hate to say it but it left a mark, a trauma that only God could scrub away, except I wouldn't let Him.


But now I know better. My lens is a lot less foggy. 


Of course, I feel that this person did me wrong, too. However, what can I do about that? Absolutely nothing. I guess this post is still a bit selfish, in a way, because it all comes down to me and my actions. 


I didn't feel right about it. 


I depended on them way too much.


I ended it. It's that simple. And my ignorant self tried to make it more complicated.


I hope the world makes a little more sense for everyone involved. And I hope they gain the same clarity I did: find a friend in Jesus before trying to find one in the world.♢

Tuesday, June 9, 2020

Turn the noise down for a second...

So I may impart the same wisdom my young sister once imparted to me:


Let the music flow!


And we should take heed! Why? Because my sister knows music-- at least how to enjoy and… "commune" with it, for lack of a better word. Music is a major part of her life. She is progressively getting the hang of slapping on the bass guitar. It's odd to see her without her headphones. Every time I pass her bedroom, there's an entirely different genre emanating from her cherished, high-def amplifier. From Bluegrass to Indian pop, my sister freely partakes of what the world has to offer musically. She knows her stuff.


One day, while I was beating her at a board game 😉…


We decided to take turns sharing our personal song collections through the AUX cord, except I was noticeably hesitant to let her listen to just anything my phone wanted to play next. I would take so long to choose a suitable song that I was effectively slowing the pace of the game and further annoying my sister. And that's when she said it:


(You gotta) Let the music flow!


That seemed to do the trick.


What she was actually saying was that I could share with her without inhibitions. Even if my song was one she disliked, she would respect my interests. That evening we bobbed our heads to a wide array of genres. And, you know what? I think we both discovered some great tunes that day.


But there's more meaning to this phrase.


Her words came to me this morning at my desk, as I was decluttering my email and pondering what subject to write on. I wanted to listen to music, but the thought of taking time to carefully choose or construct a playlist that had the power to keep me focused on my work made me lose enthusiasm for it. Then it came to me. Everybody now…


Let the music flow!


And as I continued my tasks to a unique compilation of ABBA, Johann Strauss II and Taylor Swift, I realized my mood hadn't changed with the changing of the songs. Rather the variety compelled me to enjoy them more.


I control my mood; the music does not control me.


Try new things, my discerning readers! Be spontaneous! A change in perspective is just around the corner waiting for you. Press play, and let the music flow! ♢


(P.S. I acknowledge the United States is gripped in an internal struggle right now to make sure the stories and experiences of Black people/people with melanin are being heard. These people we are speaking up for are my people. I thank you for continuing to educate yourselves and your loved ones, and for allowing compassion into your hearts. #BlackLivesMatter)


Sunday, January 19, 2020

Here's how I know I am not a failure...

Allow me to set this up...

Have you ever experienced a sudden dip in your ambition where nothing and no one could hype you up? You're still in your pajamas after noon. You've eaten no vegetables for days. That one project you had finally gained momentum on is suddenly in the corner collecting dust. For one reason or another, surely, we have all been there.

Some stay there for far too long. Some make their address there.

I, personally, could not even begin to attempt to count how many times I have let myself slip into this funk. It's a very dark place. When I'm in it, I cannot imagine myself outside of it, even though I had planty of energy only days before. I prefer darkness to an open window. Thinking about doing simple, necessary tasks like washing my face feels like a burdensome chore.

Most of all, I feel like a gigantic failure.

Now I won't deny that depression is something of an epidemic in the United States (where I live) and that these symptoms I've described sound similar to a serious mental health problem like depression. However, I can guarantee that if I required a mental health specialist, I would have no problem beginning that process. I know myself well enough to know what real depression would look like within me (and we all should know ourselves that well).

Also I am very, VERY well aware of what PMS symptoms look like, and I will admit, hormones play a huge part in my health. PMS is very real and natural (but damn, it sucks).

With all that said, the picture I am trying to paint here is different-- it's very... specific.

Right now, as I type this, I am experiencing this funk. Just two days ago, I felt like I could tackle anything. Now my bedroom is a dark, cold but cozy jail cell from which I never want to leave. I had recently gained so much momentum with my health, my hobbies, my job, the amount of fiber I consumed. What happened?

Here is where I'm realizing that you can still learn a valuable lesson without really having a solution to your problems.

What would be a real game changer in my life right now? What would keep me out of this funk? Very easy answer. Change my habits.

But will that happen overnight? Abso-blooming-lutely not.

Years of unintentional living will not be overturned by merely a few weeks of intentional living. I know exactly what put me in this funk and the solution lies in patience to eventually develop better habits for my health.

The valuable lesson is...

Despite what I have done, or haven't done, I am not a failure.

I am not a failure.

Why? Because I haven't given up.

My dear, discerning readers, you will never be a failure as long as you do not quit.

Just because you are plunged into darkness does not mean you will be there forever. The key is your intention. If your heart is in the right place, and you still believe in your own potential for health and wealth, that means the journey is not finished. It may take longer than you would like, but you will, indeed, find what you are searching for. 

You see, I think we all tend to forget that we are human. Contrary to the very poetic, neo-astrological points of view, we are not forces of nature that tear through anything in our paths. We are not animals that function largely on instinct. We have feelings. Very deep feelings. We experience droughts and uncreative plateaus. Once in a while we have to stop, and that is more than OK!

Please believe, I am not giving any of us an excuse to be lazy good-for-nothings. However I am reminding us that we have permission to forgive ourselves. We, as imperfect humans, are allowed to slow down to make climbing the steepest hills a little easier, so we don't have a heart attack before reaching the summit. I will not reach my goals overnight, but taking the time to dissect my bad habits and forgiving myself for not doing it earlier will ultimately help me reach them faster. 

A few minutes ago, I was sitting here in the darkness, asking myself all of these existential questions. I was internally berating myself for allowing myself to be here. I felt I had reached failure status once more. But all of a sudden, I went deeper. I asked myself the most important question of all. Am I going to give up?

Again, very easy question. The answer is no.

Because I know my heart. I know my intention. I know I have come way too far to give up now. 

My brother often tells me that I am a champion as a sort of uplifting affirmation, which I like to believe about myself. Well, what makes a real champion? A winner who trained long and hard. We can all be champions, and we can all be champions who are human. No longer do I have to beat myself up for taking a break. That's what I hope we all stop doing. Let's accept who God made us to be, how He made us to function, without forgetting that the journey isn't over yet.

So, the next time you find yourself in this dark place, do not label yourself a failure. Take a piece of wisdom from a recently released animated film (that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would, frankly) and do the next right thing. Personally, I think the first right thing to do is to forgive yourself. ♢

Saturday, January 11, 2020

Let's get introductions out of the way...

How are you?

I'm Kate.

You like my blog title?... Well, let's forget I asked, because I like it and that's what really matters.

I don't know how you came to stumble into my little writing space. Perhaps it's still a private space and I invited you. Perhaps you found me by accident. Either way, I'm genuinely surprised but grateful you ended up here.

While I don't have any concrete plans for this space yet, I do know that it has potential. How easy would it be to just catalog my daily life with a cell phone camera instead?

Well, that's the thing-- it's not easy at all. It takes quite a bit of talking, smiling, acquiring the consent to film from those around you, and a plethora of other fun things that, quite frankly, leave you with little energy in the end. I've tried it once. I quickly learned that I'd rather edit some text than footage.

But back to not having plans...

The important thing is, I am learning something new about myself every day. I find myself realizing what I'm doing in the moment instead of shutting down and reviewing the memory later. I'm catching myself having thoughts of all kinds all day long. A younger Kate would have taken those thoughts and ran with them, accepting them. The woman I am growing into, recognizing the power she truly possesses, harnesses those thoughts to build something good upon them, or refuses them entirely. Did you know that not every thought you have is truth?

Not only that, but you have the power to dismiss thoughts and never dwell on them again. How wonderful is that?

Even further, I am more aware than ever of how my actions or reactions affect those around me. I am a supporting character of many people's stories and only an extra in others'. If one wanted it, I would be a villain of their life tale. It's all a matter of perspective. My own perspective is only one of billions in this world. What a humbling idea.

There's another perspective that matters the most, in my personal belief, and it belongs to God Almighty. How does He see me? Who am I to Him, the maker of Heaven and Earth? What importance will I choose to give to His perspective?

No matter what I do or what I say, it can have many interpretations dependent upon who witnesses them or is affected by it. 

But hey, let's not forget my own perspective.

Who am I?... To me?

I get more and more answers to this and many more questions all the time and it's the kind of self-awareness and self-reflection that I wish more people would delve into. The results, so far, include a better relationship with myself and with my loved ones. And with customers I help at work. And with past relationships from which I never received closure. And the strangers I pass as I walk down the street. 

'Wow, that lady I just helped wasn't very nice in return. Did she misunderstand what I said? Maybe she's just having a bad day and needed to vent to someone. Maybe she's under a lot of stress. I'm sure I behaved that way in the past. I hope she feels better soon.'

When was the last time your self-talk sounded like this?

You see, if you only allow yourself, you can have connection with every person you encounter. That knowledge of the human connection, of what we all have in common, will rewire the default, immediate reactionary response in your brain. As a result, the power over your own manner increases. How would you like to be so emotionally strong that no harsh word could move you? That's my goal.

With that power also comes humility and a brand of grace that is the crown of true kings and queens.

This is all a ramble for my first blog post and I'm no professional writer... but I hope you, my discerning reader, now have a glimpse of what goes through my head every day and how I wish to design my blog. 

Ignorance is not bliss. Oftentimes it is a fatal decision.

This world may have its issues, but I'm confident that it was originally made beautiful. When you choose ignorance, you choose to be blind to beauty.

These little beauties are sown here and there into the fabric of our lives like gleaming pearls, a wealth that no one can take away from us.

And, oh, the things I have been learning lately! 

My family's personalities and traumas.

How to speak Spanish.

The art of makeup application for my own skin type.

How to let go of people.

Even "simple" things like European countries and capitals and how to play the piano.

Such wealth!

In conclusion, I just want to say that I hope you keep reading, and while you do, I hope you find out how you can get this kind of wealth (knowledge, understanding, wisdom and self-awareness) for yourself. ♢

 

Here's what you missed:

Let's get introductions out of the way...

How are you? I'm Kate. You like my blog title?... Well, let's forget I asked, because I like it and that's what really ma...