As Nike Says....Just Do It!

Okay, so I'm not one of those people who jumps on the "get fit" wagon just after the new year. This year, however, it seems like that's what happened. I wrote a while back (August, I think) that I was opening my life back up to gratitude and moving forward one footstep at a time. Well, I hit a wall. Hard. Seems this year I have taken the plunge into ignoring my self. Self, the total, essential or particular being of a person. That's me. My self, and I've been ignoring me. Hoping, maybe, that like a fly I would go away. Oh, I'm not in a state of depression or anything. I've just subconsciously decided that taking better care of myself was, well, blah!

I've come to realize over the last couple of weeks that this is a very, very poor choice. My physical person is in shambles with aches, pains and overall malaise. My emotional person is getting just as bad. So, I've decide to adopt a new mantra....Just Do It! We've all heard the phrase. We all know what it implies. For me it means, get off your lazy ass, lady, and do something with yourself! I have found that I am out front and center when it comes to giving balancing advice to everyone but me. I have not practiced one sermon that I've given in months and I should be pretty ashamed of myself. I mean seriously, who am I to toot my horn of centered living when I'm on the verge of falling over.

I've been noticing some signs lately. Yes, I'm one of those people who looks for and notices signs for everything. As I was saying, I've been noticing signs in many areas of my life. Some of them are blatant and some are still being deciphered. One of the things that I've learned lately, okay so maybe I already knew to some extent, but I re-realized it, is that I'm a quitter. I quit when things get tough. I quit when things get easy. I quit when I'm stressed, and I quit when I'm bored. What's a girl to do? STOP QUITTING!!! Truth is, I actually like many of the things that I end up quitting. I'm not sure what it is that makes me stop doing things, but I think that's what I'm supposed to figure out.

I love meditating. I really, really do. I love acupuncture. I don't necessarily love exercise, but I do like some forms (power walking, running, yoga,weights). I love writing. I love kayaking and paddle boarding. I love walking the beach, especially at night. Oh, and I love eating, though that may not be a good thing. So, what in the hell makes me quit these things? I suspect fear is the main thing. Why fear, you ask? Because I am deathly afraid of failure. I mean, keep me up at night, cause me panic attacks, break out in a sweat afraid. Case in point, I went to my first yoga class today. Now, I've done yoga before and I have a DVD that's pretty intense, but I was sweating so bad when I walked into that big room with all of those people. I didn't stand out. I wasn't the biggest or the most uncoordinated. In fact, I did pretty darn well for my first day. I held every pose, though a bit shaky on some, and I completed the entire hour and a half with only minor discomfort. Nothing, absolutely nothing, to explain my overwhelming fear of walking into that room.

We have a boat. Said boat is on blocks getting all gussied up. My job is to clean, polish and shine the boat. Easy enough (though pretty damn painful on my back and wings). But for some reason, I am petrified of going down to that boat by myself, getting on a ladder and using a power tool. There's nothing overly dangerous about the task and there probably won't be many people there. I can, and have, used the buffer and know very well what to do. But I'm afraid. I think I'm afraid of something stupid like tripping over a cord, knocking into the boat cradle causing a very heavy boat to come crashing down on my skull. Silly me.

I have a blog. Yep, you're reading it right now. I love this blog. I love to write this blog. But you guessed it, I'm afraid to write it. This is actually an easy one to figure out on so many levels. I'm afraid of writer's block...scares me to death. I'm afraid of sounding stupid or ignorant, or, gulp, boring. I'm also afraid of writing something worth reading. I'm afraid that my wildest dream of being picked up by the Post or the New York Times to write a weekly column may actually come true! I'm afraid that people may actually like to read what I have to say and want me to write more, or more often. What if I let them down? Fear.

My husband is a Navy man. I knew this when I met him. Knew it when I married him. Knew it even when I moved 5,000 miles away from everything I've ever known. Yet for some reason, I'm petrified of receiving our next set of orders. We moved to my Paradise. I love it here. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that IF (very big word) we are ordered to leave here we will be back to spend the rest of our days living here. But I'm afraid. Afraid of uprooting, packing and moving God knows where. I'm afraid of finding a place to live in a place I'm unfamiliar with. I'm afraid that my friends here will forget me. I'm afraid to make new friends. I'm afraid to find my way around a new area. Blah, blah, blah. I know I need to get a grip. I know other's have done this before me and more will do it after I'm finished. I don't have to like it though, do I?

There is a silver lining in everything in life. This, I know. I suppose my job of buffing the boat is a metaphor for my life. Polish off the tarnish and look for the shine. Sheesh, why does it take writing in a silly little block to figure out the simplest of life's challenges? I don't know if I'll ever understand it, but I will keep writing and discovering. I'll keep putting my Karma out there, hopefully all good, and expecting shiny Karma back. I'll keep facing my fears and drinking liquid antacid like it's going out of style. I'll keep sucking it up. Maybe, just maybe, there will come a day when fear is pushed into the corner. When I can walk into a crowded room {{shudder}} and not break a sweat on my brow, or just start dancing like there's no tomorrow in the middle of the commissary. Okay, maybe not that last part, but I think you get where I'm going. I need to Just Do It. Face the crazy. Stare it in the eye and smirk. I made it through Day 1 of yoga after all.

Life's a beach, and then you live on one...