How Do You See Things?

You know how sometimes you are so… off keel, that no matter how hard you try, nothing ever seems to work the right way? Nothing anyone says to you helps, in fact it only serves to push you closer to the edge of screaming than before? No matter how hard you try to get everything on your to-do list done, but so many other people or things force their way to the top of your list, to the point that, at the end of the day you feel like the white rabbit in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland saying, “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get?” What if all it takes to get through those times is a new perspective?

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It took a moment of honest truth from a friend to make me realize that what I’m seeing might not be what’s really going on. Is it possible that I’m misinterpreting everything? Okay, yes, its very possible. But the realization is not without cost because now I have to remind myself that,  what I hear is not necessarily what is being said. It’s like trying to break a bad habit in myself… A near impossible feat.

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An artist can create perspective with the slash of a pencil, charcoal, or brush, changing how we see something, making it seem farther away, or nearer than it actually is. If you let things build higher and higher in your mind, eventually it’s going to topple like the tower in the game Jenga, and when it topples, it’ll take you with it. Its time to step back and look at it again with that new perspective, Its time to take control of your own life again.

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Dreamscapes

When I think back on everything that has happened in my life so far during 2014, so much of it feels like a dream, the very definition of surreal. I’ve learned a lot about myself and life the past ten months, often finding myself wondering if everything is really real, or some crazy, vivid dream that is the effect of a bad dinner.

 

The year started in shock with a breast cancer diagnosis on my mother, followed too quickly by the disease fighting harder than was anticipated and the loss of Mama on February 28. The months following her passing were a huge struggle for all of us, but I’ve learned that I can survive the grief. No, its not always easy… There are times when I want to pick up the phone and call her to tell her about something or other; and other times when scrolling through my Facebook contacts and stumbling across her name…

 

I left a career of ten years, opting to take care of myself and find a job that I enjoy. I look at what is happening in education right now and, while some may think I took the cowards way out, I learned with Mama’s death that I had to take care of myself, and the first step in that was to leave an environment that had become toxic to me. I’m now extremely happy in my current position with this company. A worthwhile leap of faith.

 

I wrote a book. A dream that I have wanted to do since middle school, and here I am, 17 days before my 44 birthday and I finally did it. So my debut novella, COLD HEAT by LeeAnne White, will be available for pre-order on November 1, and it will go live on November 11. A very busy birthday week for me.

 

Finally, I’ll be crossing another item from the bucket list. I’ll be taking a once in a lifetime trip (hopefully I’ll make it back there again with my daughter) to Ireland, London, and France for the New Year… I suspect there will be a lot of blogging about this trip (maybe even a story or two!).

 

So, please, if this is a dream, don’t wake me.

Hell hath no fury like a…

…Like a trainer scorned. Forget about the whole “woman scorned” thing, I stepped back into the gym, AKA Dungeon, on Friday to meet with my long ignored trainer, AKA Sadist, AKA Satan. I should have known something was up. Oh, he gave no easily recognized clues, but I should have picked up on the happy malevolence that was him.

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It started easily enough, warming up on the treadmill for 10 minutes of walking, getting the blood pumping a bit faster, warming up my neglected muscles. You all know the drill whether you are an gym rat, or a gym ghost (like me). There I am, happily plodding along on the treadmill, thinking various thoughts when he asks if I am ready to roll. I should never have said “yes” to that question…

Satan leads me into his den -er, office, where he announces that we are starting from scratch with me, need to get me back to the motivated, on track client that I once was, and then he cores the unspeakable… He pulls out the tape measure and the body fat thingy (*not its clinical name) and tells me to hop on the scale.

Efffffffffffffffffffffffff.

I knew what the scale would say, I had been to the doctor two days before that, so I walked out and walked back in, giving him that number. He wrote it down on the new, clean “progress” page, and then went to flipping back in his book to where I was before I basically quit on myself. I had ballooned all the way up to where I had been, plus an additional 20 pounds. You can see the progress I had made here.

After the weigh in and body fat analyst, he pulled out out the dreaded tape measure. Yeah, um, let’s just say my month of horrors began a few days early. It’s humbling to see myself reduced back to numbers again; numbers that I promised myself I would stay away from. What was even more distressing was the fact that I have let myself go so much that the workout had me huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf and sweating like a newbie at a chili pepper eating contest.

The question, or trick, is how to re-motivate myself? I know that it’s about my health, the very health I’ll need to watch my children eventually graduate college and grace me with grand babies. Ive looked throughout my home searching for a genie, or some “miracle fat cure” that would make this time around different from the last too-many-to-counts.

I’ll figure it out,  or at least try to. There are a lot of potholes on this road that I’ve laid in front of me, I just need to be better at dodging them.

josh

 

 

 

 

 

Blerg

I’m not sure why it is lately that I have so many ideas for what I want to write about when I am nowhere near my laptop (usually when I am either a) at work and not able to write anything down, or b) in bed, worn out after being at work!), but as soon as I sit down to start writing, it’s like my mind and all of my thoughts have been sucked into a black hole! Don’t get me wrong, I still have a lot of those thoughts and thinks going on, but I wonder if I should write about them? *snort* Who am I kidding? I have already shared so much on here, why would I suddenly turn shy when I have this platform of (relative) anonymity?

 

Things in my world have been rocking right along, staying super busy and usually incredibly happy with the job I have. I honestly can’t completely wrap my brain around the fact that I have been with this company for over a year, and that I left a career of ten tears to work full time, and I still go to work every day happy and smiling, ready to see what comes my way that day. I come home tired, worn to the bone some days, but I can still smile because of some little something or other that happened that day.

 

With all of this working, I have still not made the time for myself to get back to the gym like I have been telling myself I would. I am meeting with the Sadist once a week still, but the time I need to allow, no, that is such a wrong word. I should not say that I am allowing myself time for myself… I have not been making the time for myself to look after myself the way I know I should. The weight is back, and then some. The body shaming is back in the front of my mind, and embarrassment of and for me is constant. I look and think, near tears, how gross and disgusting.

 

I don’t think that many people realize these thoughts go through my mind on a constant loop, thanks to the masks that I try to wear. Unless they read this, and I only know of a couple of my friends who do, no one in my close circle really knows the truth. Again, it is here in this forum that I can express the truth because I know I am not alone. I wonder how many more “me’s” there are in the world.

 

I think I’ll stop here now that I have put a depressed pallor on my blog for the night.

Workin’ 9 to 5

September 1. Labor Day here in the US, and I am ready to head out to work (an hour early? What was I thinking?). I know that there are some people who grumble about having to work on “banker’s holidays” but to be honest, I am not one of them.

When I look back on this time last year, Labor Day, the first holiday of a new school year, I had already come to the realization that it would be my last year in a classroom for that school district. Fast forward though a year filled with stress and grief to today, and it is an entirely different story.

Part of me wondered if I’d lost my mind when I turned in my resignation after eight years with the same school, wondering if I would be able to find another school district to teach in this year. I submitted applications to everywhere I could in the areas closer to my home, all summer long hoping for the elusive interview that would keep me in a classroom. No phone calls came. I had begun to lose faith in myself, doubting myself as a teacher, doubting the past ten years in a career that I had once loved.

All the while, I have been happily going to work at my part time job for the past 14 months, a job that I have really come to embrace and enjoy. Here is the difference: I am now in a company that values its employees. I have moved up the ladder of our store, bit by bit. I am also devoting more time to my dreams of writing a novel, and I have done it.  My stress level has dropped, I am more relaxed and happy, and I have more time for the people and the things that I enjoy. It is really a blessing to go into work every day wanting to be there, not dreading it. It certainly puts a lovely spin on things.

Life and work are not always easy. But if I have learned anything over the past year, it is that if you are not happy in your circumstance, if it is within your power, change it. It’s not easy, but aren’t you worth the risk of finding something that makes you happy?