The Naked Truth of It

Lately I have been doing a lot of work when it comes to myself.  I am not talking about me physically working..like cleaning the house or anything like that.  Just ask my husband....I have certainly not spent much time doing that.

What I have been doing is working with a coach.  And she pushes me. She sets the bar just outside my comfort zone and makes me reach for it.  She encourages me.  And she sees my potential - and that in itself is freeing.  Now this coaching relationship is not all love and pink fluffy Unicorns.  It is a relationship that is based on truth and trust.  And sometimes that means that she has to tell me to quit whining and get my shit done.  Now you may be thinking that this is a little harsh.  Let me tell you it is exactly what I need in that very moment.  Her words slice through the fear and free my feet.  They allow me to get my ass moving and start gaining momentum.  And for this I am grateful.

Now this post isn't really here to tell you about how wicked awesome my coach is....that would be deserving of a post all on its own.  What I want to talk to you about is the naked truth of it.

Whenever you decide that you want something bigger and brighter for yourself it involves a lot of work.  And that work isn't all fun.  It means spending time looking at what lies you have convinced yourself of being true.  It means digging around in the darkest corners of your mind.  Shining light on all of your fears and looking them in the eye.  And this does not happen over night.  At least it hasn't for me.  And I am grateful that it is a bit of a process because it means that I only have to look for as long as I can stand to and then I am free to scamper back to the light.

I am three weeks into this journey and there have been times where I have wanted to quit.  To just curl up into a fetal position and rest easily knowing my own patterns will continue to serve me.  You see I have learned that I am a person who lives life all in.  The throttle is wide open, I am in high gear and the gear shift is ripped right off....there is no slowing me down.  Now this can be a huge adrenaline rush....and it typically is...but it can also be a lot like a roller coaster coming off its tracks.  It is all consuming and it is exhausting...and once the coaster car leaves the track....I am left burnt out.  With nothing left to give...to my work, my friends, my family or even myself.  This is a pattern that I am willing to break.  To modify in a way that suits me.  To learn to down shift gears once and awhile.  Even pull over and enjoy the view.

There are times when it feels like I have pried open the lid to Pandora's box.  And the suppressed emotions and fears are flying up at my face like bats flying out of cave.  It's uncomfortable and it is downright scary.  And I question why it is that I do it.  And I ask...Is this worth it?  Fear plays tricks on me.  Tells me that I am not worthy.  I  don't deserve it.  That freedom, fame, fortune, happiness will never be mine.  It is in those moments where I  need to sit with the fear.  Thank it for being there with me and ask it what it is trying to show me.  Breathe it in....and then breathe it out and breathe in all of my dreams.  Let them illuminate my heart and lead my way out of the darkness.  The best part of working with a coach is that when I feel that I am so wrapped up and stuck in the fear all I need to do is reach out and ask my coach to hold the lantern and shine light on the path.

I am here in this moment because I am meant to be here.  Right here.  In this very place.  You and I...All of Us....possess a beautiful gift that is meant to be used to shine light on the path of others.  I refuse to let fear stand in the way of me doing so.  I hope you do too.

I wish you a day as Beautiful as You Are!

Much Love,

Lisa

Ps.  I you want to learn more about the coach who is helping me on my journey check out www.maivucoach.com

Be True To You

Good Morning!  Today I am writing on the topic.  Authentic.  This word keeps popping into my head.  I am not certain why it is.  But I can only think that it is because I have some room to grow in this area.  And maybe, just maybe you will learn something too.

I have heard plenty of people throw the word around.  I have heard it used in so many different ways that I had to look up the meaning.  Let me first share with you the last two ways I have heard this term used in my social circle.
1) Do you like my purse?  It's Coach.  It's authentic.
2) I had just told my friend that I don't think I could meet up with her because I am short on energy so it would be best if I stayed home.  She thanked me for being authentic.

Now back to the definition.  There are a few different definitions for authentic.  However, there is one in particular that I like best.  Authentic: True to one's own personality, spirit, character.

As I look at this definition I know that there was a reason that I was lead to write about this word.  Do you ever struggle with being authentic?  Do you ever let someone else's thoughts, ideals or opinions influence you?  Do you ever dial it down a notch, laugh a little quieter, stifle a giggle, wear a different shirt, avoid a hair cut because of what someone else may think? Perhaps you even talk yourself out of taking a job because you are worried what someone else may think. Or maybe you chose your University major because of what your parent's wanted for you.

I know that I go through phases of my life where I allow myself to be influenced by others.  Where I have been inauthentic. Inauthentic: Not authentic, not genuine.
These phases are directly connected to my level of self confidence and opinion of my self worth. If I am ever feeling uncertain, unsure of myself or abilities I find myself molding my actions to model what I am thinking others would want to see from me.  This is a scary thing to admit.  Yup, at times I am not genuine.  Let me give you an example.

I have went to parties and social gatherings and only let the part of my personality show that I thought others would like.  I tittered rather than a full out belly laugh.  I tiptoed around subjects of politics, religion, school systems.  I kept my opinions firmly in check and smiled and nodded even when I was screaming inside.  It was like I left the true me locked in the trunk of the car.  And for what purpose?  So that people would like me?  Lets review what I was setting myself up for.  I faked who I was just so that these people who were vastly different from I would like me.  Well guess what?  Some of them did like me.  So I had to face being fake every time I was around these people just so they would continue to like me.  Exhausting.  Thankfully I got over that.  And not all of those people are in my social circle anymore.  And that is perfectly okay with me.

Here is another example.  And this one I hope my Daughter learns from me and doesn't learn it first hand.  When I was in my early 20's I went to work in a field that was predominantly men.  In fact it would be a big day if there were more than half a dozen females on the job site.  Back in the day I was cutie.  Not bragging.  But I had legs that went on for miles. Long hair. Tall and lean. Big eyes. And a nice rack.  And I was new at what I was doing in my field.  You see I was a Health and Safety Field Coordinator in the land of the tar sand.  And I was a little unsure of myself.  (Not my looks - I knew I was bringing stuff to the table with them).  But my brains.  I had taken a course or two.  Got good grades.  But I was a farm kid for heaven's sake.  Please someone tell me what a farmer knows about health and safety...it would make for a short book.  LOL.  There were two things I knew for sure thanks to my farming background:
1.  I could tell you the wrong way to do something.
2.  I could smell bullshit from a long ways away.

But when it came down to the details of health and safety in an entirely different industry with a lot at stake I was insecure.  It didn't help that there were more men on the job site than there was in my entire high school and I was responsible for ensuring that they were working safe.  It also didn't help that there was a teensy weensy little bit of an old boy's club that existed.

These guys would chew me up and spit me out all before first coffee.  So I did what I thought that I should.  I tried to adapt.  And by adapt.  I mean fit in.  And I tried to fit in at all costs.  I learned more colorful language than even my Dad knew.  I laughed at their jokes (and they were far from funny).  I played down my brains.  I learned to swill back whiskey.  I dressed to show off my ass-ets because that is what would keep their attention.  I became the safety girl they kept around because I was pretty to look at.  Thankfully I learned some actual industry knowledge along the way.  Eventually I was on the jobsite because I was good at what I did.  And I could hold my own against the men.  And I knew the legislation well enough that I could stand up and fight if I needed to.  Me being cute was just a bonus not the main attraction.

Those early years I was so far from authentic.  I was miles away from being true to my own personality, spirit and character.  And to look back on them can be a little painful. But I am also incredibly grateful for that experience.  Because I have been a work in progress ever since then.  I have learned the lesson about what can happen when you stray far from authentic.  And with a little luck, my story will teach my Daughter this lesson without her having to go through it to such an extreme.

Even now I stray from authentic some.  I don't write all that I want to for fear of what some may think.  I don't always say what is on my mind. And some days I wear a shirt because someone thinks it is cute even when I don't.  But each day is a journey.  I am still a work in progress.  As are you and everyone around us.

Help others stay true to themselves.  If you see someone looking different...don't judge them.  Applaud them for being unique.  Let your words lift them up rather than strip them down.  You don't want everyone to look like you. To be like you.  If they were...you wouldn't shine as bright.

Leaving you with one last story.  A proud Mom's brag moment.  On Tuesday my little girl who is three went to her first dance class.  She was wearing leggings and a t-shirt.  All the other girls were dressed in pink leotards and tutu's. One girl pointed out to Delly that she wasn't wearing the same.  Delly replied "So??? I'm different!" and skipped off into the class.

Dare To Be Different. Be True To You. Lead Life Joyfully!

Much Love,
Lisa