Ten Things......

I have this sweet friend who I met on Instagram.  Funny huh? She sucked me in with her amazing, sassy, easy, fashion sense, but kept me coming back for more with her open and honest posts about her life and the experiences she's had.  One day, after I posted something, she emailed me and shared with me even more of her story. A story that was so different from mine, yet so similar in many ways.   She is an incredible example of strength, perseverance, and vulnerability.  I have learned from her that we learn from others, and why it's important to share our stories, weaknesses, faults, and be honest about them. I hope one day to be able to be as honest with you as she is with me and the people who follow her page.  

Anywhoooo.....she asked me to share ten things that make me happy.  So, here goes.  

• My babies.  I have two. They are my everything. That is all. Oh, and can I add, the relationship that I have with my husband who often times has to suffer pre-reading these posts, although I spared him this one.  
• A good book.  My favorites from the past year are: (Don't laugh)
• "Excuses Be Gone- Wayne Dyer, the first time I read this book I didn't get it. The second time I read it, it knocked my socks off and changed my life.
• "The Placebo Effect"-Dr. Joe Dispenza, if you are trying to change or heal any aspect of your life this is your book.
• "Untethered Soul"-Michael Singer, speaking of souls, this one spoke to mine.
• "Daring Greatly and "The Gifts of Imperfection"-Brené Brown,  I mean.....just read them. 
• "Awaken The Giant Within"-Anthony Robbins, it has taken me over a month to get through a couple chapters in this book because it is so filled with amazing, life changing, holy awesome tidbits of information on how to live your dreams.  And people, I'm living the dream.......well, I am starting to anyway. 
• "The Giver"-Lois Lowry, such a good, easy read.  
• Thunderstorms in the middle of the night. We've had a lot of those lately.  And let's add the sounds of rain, rivers, and waterfalls. 
• My siblings.  I have three.  
• My oldest sister has been going through almost the exact same  pain as me except 100 times worse.  I have depended on her throughout the last year. We have cried together, laughed together, gotten angry together, given up together, and pushed each other to "keep on truckin" as my Grampa used to say.  And in the process we have grown more than we have ever expected.  Most people have to go through things alone in their lives, I have been blessed (is that the right word?) to have been able to experience my struggles with someone who understands exactly what I am going through. We have a goal of walking down our favorite path to get to the beach in our favorite spot in Maui.  And by walk I mean run, skip, jump, and cartwheel.  We will get through this, just FYI, and we will bask in the sun and shout our gratitude from the wave tops.  
• My younger sister has always been my protector, well, when she wasn't beating me with barbie dolls and hairbrushes-let's just say I knew how to push her buttons.  Being the shortest of the family, I stand at a whopping 5'2''. Whereas,  all my siblings stand well over 5'11''.  My tough, sweet sister would threaten to beat up anyone who messed with me. Never you fear, she was always there to attack or stare down anyone who dare come after her little runt of a sister.  To this day, she is my protector.  She sticks up for me, gets mad for me, and encourages me to be tough when I gotta be tough.  I'm pretty lucky to have such an amazing bodyguard. Oh, and did I mention we are 13 months apart? Practically twins and always mistaken as such (except for the whole height issue....oh and the major difference in our athletic ability. I will let you guess which of us is more athletic.....and remember she will beat you up if you choose wrong.)    
• My little 6'3'' brother.  What can I say about my brother? He's smart (like graduated from Yale smart), funny, sarcastic (I love me some good sarcasm), easy to annoy (the funnest part about being his sister), and  honest.  If I need an opinion about anything, he's my man.  
• Conversations with my Gramma, who also happens to be one of my heroes. 
• Friends. New friends, old friends, Instagram friends, friends who live close, friends who live far.  Friends who laugh with me, cry with me, laugh AT me, point out when I am being a hypochondriac or over dramatic (wait, whaaaaa?), and just plain know me, sometimes, better than I know myself.  I have AMAZING friends. And I thank my lucky stars for them every single day.  
• Mis padres (that means "my parents" in español) What can I say? I have the best.  
• Cats. Cats make me so happy. Just kidding, that's a lie.  I hate cats. HATE them.  And yes, hate is a very strong word....but I mean it.  I had a cat growing up. I think we doomed her to be a miserable beast when we named her Misery.  She would sit on top of the couch that backed up to the banister and as you walked down the stairs she would swat at you.  Nothing like a kitty claw to the eye to wake you up in the morning.  She was a brat.   (And I may have loved her a little, but all other cats be damned). 
• Chocolate, sugar, donuts, cookies, cakes, lasagna, bread, ice cream, did I mention chocolate?    
• Meditation. Meditation makes my grey skies blue and my blue skies even bluer. I don't go a day without meditating, even if it is just closing my eyes and envisioning my goals becoming reality or just opening up my heart and focusing on the inside.  Sounds silly, I know, but I can't deny the clarity that comes from becoming one with my soul.  (Don't you roll your eyes at me.)

And there ya have it.  Just nine of the millions of things that make me happy (and one thing I hate just for good measure).  I would like to hear what ten things make my blogger friends happy.  If you are my friend, and you have a blog (you know who you are....and don't you dare ignore me, or I will send my sister after you) I challenge you to write ten things that make you happy. Now go! 

The Ugly Truth About Perfection

Why is it so hard to be who we are? Who we truly are deep down inside.  And even more, why is it so hard to actually know who we are underneath all the labels. For instance, I spend so much time trying to cover up what I think are the flaws about myself, so that you don't see them. And probably, even more, so that I don't see them. I seriously put so much energy into trying to be "perfect" on the outside, that I don't even know who I am on the inside anymore.

When I was little I always wanted to be a writer.  I would write stories and poems all the time.  Somewhere along the way I lost that passion and desire.  It wasn't until recently that I started having this nagging feeling to write and I remembered just how much I love doing it.

However, as I expose myself to you through my writing, I worry about offending or saying the wrong thing. Or coming across like I am an idiot.  I edit so many freaking times (crap should I change the word "freaking"?) for grammatical errors and sentence structure that it starts to drive me crazy and I start to lose meaning in the words.  I worry about my word choice and how I phrase things and change it so many times that I start to lose the authenticity that makes it me. All because I want it to be perfect. I want ME to be perfect in YOUR eyes.

Perfect...perfection, they can be such ugly words.  Why does being perfect seem so appealing (to me anyway)?   I have always been obsessed with perfection.  Perfection in so many things that didn't even matter.  My house always had to be spotless. We are talking, SPOTLESS, with a capital everything  (which isn't necessarily a bad thing, unless it consumes you and yeah, it consumed me). My kids always had to be perfectly behaved, because, after all, I am the perfect parent. Well, in case you missed the memo, it's impossible for a five and eight year old to behave perfectly all the time. Oh and I am so far from being a perfect parent it's scary (Crap, should I have said that? Someone is probably going to call CPS on me... just sitting here waiting for the doorbell to ring....trembling.)

The scary thing about perfection is that is actually prevents us from being who we truly are.  It causes us to change, depending on who we are with. It prevents us from sharing our struggles and  challenges with those who may just need to hear them (and believe me, I would love to hear about your struggle with perfectionism so that I don't feel like I am a crazy lady.) And for me, it prevents me from knowing who I am, deep down inside.  It makes me feel confused about how I should be feeling about certain things.  Because a perfect person doesn't get angry and a perfect person is always confident (ha, what the heck does confident even mean?). It makes it hard to actually feel the emotion that I have in the moment that I have it (which could be beneficial if my anger is directed at you), and I have learned that suppressed, unfelt emotions always come back to haunt you.  

So, what if those flaws that I see are really what make me who I am?  Wouldn't you rather know and love a person who isn't perfect? Isn't it easier to relate to someone who makes mistakes, who has a messy house,  who sometimes puts a comma where it shouldn't be or has an over abundant amount of run-on sentences (damn commas and run-ons are the bane of my writing existence). Or someone who says "damn" every once in a while? That may be taking it too far for some people. And I guess if it is, then that's ok. My intention here is not to offend or to push away, but to say what I think in the way that I think it, not the way that I feel you should read it.

So, I guess what I am saying is this is me.  I'm just a girl trying to figure things out and in the process heal my body, my mind, and my spirit. Nice to meet you. You can take me, or leave me. But just know one thing,  I'm not..... I'm not per......I'm not perfec.........I'm. Not. Perfect. Eeesh, that was painful.

The Four Letter Word

The view from where I stand. Stand. Standing....sometimes, all I feel like I can do is stand. I am not speaking physically, although there have been plenty of times in the past year where I felt like literally, all I could do was stand, and even then I couldn’t do it for very long.  No,  I am talking about feeling stagnant, stuck, not able to move forward with my life. Feeling like I am just standing here letting everything pass me by.  

And this, my dear friends, brings me to that ugly, nasty, horrible, word.  The word that makes you cringe, makes you recoil in shock when heard.......that mean little "f" word that is used all too often. Fear, people, I am talking about fear.  F-E-A-R, it should be a four-letter word……well, you know what I mean. 

A couple days ago, a girl I follow on Instagram posted the question:

I sat there staring at the screen trying to think of what I would do, then I made a list of things I would NEVER do.  I wouldn't sky dive (because I actually like being alive and the thought of falling to the earth at the same mph of a speeding car just doesn't float my boat).  I wouldn’t swim with sharks (did that with dolphins in the wild and that FREAKED me out and they aren't nearly as scary as sharks). But still, I couldn’t come up with what I REALLY wanted to do if I WASN'T ruled by fear.  Then, one day it hit me. I knew what I would do. It's something I have thought about at least a dozen times in the past couple months.   I would learn to…..wait for it………SURF!  Yes, I just said surf.  (I’ll go ahead and give you a second to stop laughing and to get the image of me attempting to surf outta your head………said image had better be me with a bikini body btw).

A long time ago, about 15 years, my sister moved to Hawaii, Kona, to be exact. I needed a vacation so I packed up my up my bags and got the heck outta dodge and landed in paradise.  

That’s when my love affair with Hawaii started.  I stayed for about 3 weeks.  One of the first things we did when I got there was go to the beach.  The beach we went to (thank you dear sister) had been known for having record high waves (a man had broken his neck at that same beach later that same day).  Now, a little preface here about me. I didn’t grow up at the beach beach. I grew up with a cabin, on the lake, in the woods. Our cabin had a beach but lakes don't have waves, unless you make them yourself by going around in circles in the boat.  I had very rarely ever been to the real beach and I knew nothing of the strength of the waves.  I did not know the cardinal rule about the ocean, which is, NEVER EVER TURN YOUR BACK ON IT.  

So, imagine, little ole’ me walking out into the surf, enjoying the sand beneath my toes (and that’s a lie because I cant stand sand beneath my toes), breathing in the salty sea air, bending over to look at seashells that had washed up and just being happy, curious, and at peace….when all of the sudden, BOOM! I was hit!!! Hit so hard by the biggest wave I had ever seen (that I never really even saw)  It. Took. Me. Down. I remember my face being scraped along the dirty, wet, stupid sand. It grabbed on to me and pulled me out a little. I was so freaked out I could barely stand up, let alone catch my breath once it washed away. Then, BOOM! I was hit AGAIN! This time it pulled me under and I felt like I was being swirled around and then I slammed into the ground one more time. Eventually, after what seemed like hours, days even (it was like 20 seconds), I was able to frantically get up and clumsily make my way to dry sand. I laid down and just hugged the earth, very quickly forgetting the hatred I had for sand, all while thanking my lucky stars that I made it out alive. Meanwhile, my sister, who was standing over me said, “Hey, you’re not supposed to turn your back on the waves……”  Gee, thanks Sis, that info would have been more useful to me BEFORE I had been pummeled and almost dragged to my death!  (I have often been told I am quite dramatic….huh, I don’t see it.)

      

At any rate I was so terrified of the ocean after that for the rest of my time (life) in beautiful Hawaii I sat on the beach.  SAT ON THE BEACH. We went to a lot of different beaches, some with green sand. (Let's not go into the story about how I was carrying a very LARGE umbrella to get to that beach and the wind was so strong it nearly swept me off a cliff. Not kidding. My brother-in-law had to help me. Heaven forbid I let go of the gigantic umbrella and let if fly off into oblivion....cause that would have been tragic.) We went to black sand beaches and white sand beaches. And what did I do? I just sat there and watched my sister frolic in the waves thinking there has to be more to do here than just going to the beach. All the while, I just cooked in the sand, like literally, I walked away with horrible sunburns (hence the umbrella). I have been back a couple times  since and I let my fear take over again and I just sat on the beach while my whole family (kids included) played in the waves.  It's actually quite ironic that Hawaii is my favorite place on Earth, despite the fact I almost died there....twice (oh, and the fact that I hate sand and being in the ocean and all.) 

So this year, as I have been dealing with this physical pain that has made it hard to do much of anything I have thought about Hawaii many times. I have thought about how I just sat there and watched everyone else have the time of their lives all because of a fear I had that started more than 12 years before. And I decided that I don't want to be afraid anymore. I don't want be to be afraid of the ocean, or the waves. I don’t want to be afraid of  my life and how its going to turn out. I don't want to be afraid of doing things that are uncomfortable.   For instance, like starting a blog and revealing my inner most self that I have tried to hide my whole existence. 

I don’t want to be afraid  of healing from my back pain. I know it sounds dumb but for a long time there was a fear of healing because that would mean I would have to take action in my life, and do things that I wasn’t sure I could do, (still not sure I can do them, but dang, I want to try). Afraid of being vulnerable, of letting go, of hanging on. I am done. Done, done, done.   And maybe it isn’t so much that I am done being afraid, but it is more that  I am done letting the fear I have prevent me from playing in the ocean and riding the waves. (Pun intended)  A funny thing happens when the circumstances in your life prevent you from living. It makes you reevaluate the kind of living you want to do.  And I want to be a gnarly surfer chick. (Again, go ahead and laugh it out, I'll wait....)                                                                                                                                                          

So this is it folks. This is the declaration: I WILL learn to surf within one years time …..uh, maybe three years time, yes, give me three years.  BLAST. Out with you fear. OK, OK one year...and a half. (Do you see what goes on in my head?) 

Whether it be in Hawaii.

Or  Bora Bora, although doesn't look like there are too many waves goin' on there.  I'll just have them get in a boat and go around in circles till I can catch one.

OR Provo Beach Resort. Yep, thats gonna be me, fancy footwork and everything. (Seriously, stop laughing) 

One more thing. Fear is not an easy thing to let go of. If anything, I have learned that every single day I have to let go. Sometimes, of the same fears that I let go of yesterday, and the day before, and the ones I let go of ten times the day before that.  I have to condition my mind and my thinking to not give into those fearful/depressing/take you down kind of thoughts. I have felt like I failed so often because I would let go of something and it would pop up again if I was feeling vulnerable, tired, or defeated. That's the AMAZING part of this process. With each "failure", I learn.  I learn what triggers me, what steps I need to take to get me out of the line of fire, and most importantly that even if I give in to those thoughts just one more time, I can pull myself out of them, just one more time.

One day, maybe I will be fearless, and when that happens, by George, look out!!

This is Me.......

Have you ever wondered who you are? Like, who you REALLY REALLY are? Who you are deep deep down, underneath all the "I am a daughter, sister, mother, friend, crazy person" stuff.  I have wondered that a lot in the past little bit.  And I am not sure I liked what I came up with.  I had a very hard realization when I realized that... 

 This is me. This is who I am……wait….I am 35 years old and STILL trying to figure out who the hell I am.  Who am I? Who do I want to be? And how am I going to get there?  All questions I ask myself probably 10 times a day.  There have been a series of events that have lead me to ask these questions on a daily basis.  All of them PERSONAL to me.  Events that have forever changed my life and helped me to recognize the things inside me that I want to change, that I NEED to change.  I look back at who I was for so long and I LITERALLY cringe.  Not that I was a bad person by any means. I never broke the law, I tried to be kind and nice to everyone, I always did what I thought to be right and good.  In fact, just the other day my dad said to me, "Ericka, you were always a goodie-two-shoes", which, for the most part, is true.  We won't tell mom and dad about the rebellious, well, I can't even say years but minutes? Hours?? Definitely. But there are so many things I wish I could go back and change about who I was, because those things have  lead me down a path that I NEVER thought I would go down. 

 A path that I can honestly say has taken me to HELL and back.  Have you ever been to hell?  I am sure most of you, if not all of you have.  I have been many many times.  In the past year and a half I have experienced the kind of physical pain (HELL) that makes you wish you were dead, almost EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.  Dead dead dead. Constant, unending, when will this EVER stop (IT WILL NEVER STOP) nerve pain, muscle pain, bone pain, back pain, hip pain, leg pain.  Pain that made it hard to walk, hard to take care of my kids,  hard to cheer them on at soccer games. And the worst part, hard to take them to do the fun things I want them to experience and that I want to experience WITH them.   Life really really really REALLY SUCKS when you physically can’t be the mom you want to be.  (Can I get an amen?!) 

 Along this path of pain (physical and emotional, but we’ll talk about the emotional causes another day) I have learned things about myself. Things that I really didn't like, things that made me feel like I wasn’t living up to my potential all the time. I lived with the feeling that I was letting myself (and others) down for so so long. SO LONG. Things that made me feel ashamed about how I had acted or behaved in a certain situation.  If only I could go back….if I could go back and realize THEN  that I CAN change. That I CAN fix those things about myself that I knew I didn’t like but didn’t think I could do anything about, my life would be very different right now.  After all, “This is me, this is who I am” was my thinking, my belief. My BELIEF.  

However, I am where I am today.  Everything that has happened has, well, happened.  I can’t go back.  The only thing I can do is to take those things that I know I don’t like about myself and change them NOW.  I don’t have to be that person who lets people down, who doesn’t live up to my potential, who feels badly all the time.  I have learned a funny thing about beliefs over the past little bit. They can change.  YOU can change them. I CAN change them. I no longer have to believe that I am who I am and YOU all  have to live with it. (I know, I am a little late to the party.)  I can CHANGE who I am, to be who I WANT to be. I can be someone who makes others happy. Who loves with an open heart and doesn't hold back. (Sounds cheesy, right? I know, I think so too. Just wait for my post about loving and living with an open heart...man, have I learned a ton about that.)   Who lives up to my potential, who puts myself out there to meet new people, starts a new business, has happy, loving relationships with everyone around me. I can be successful, independent, and HEALTHY. (I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!)

 I have read so many books on how to change my thinking (if you want a list I will send you a list). I have started meditating along with prayer, that alone has changed my life and helped me to connect with who I want to be on a deeper level. It has brought me closer to God and has helped me to stay grounded in a turbulent time.   

I have sought out advice and counsel from those who have learned how to do this before me (by "this" I mean changing one's thoughts, mindset and limiting beliefs). And I have tried over and over again to change those beliefs that have held me back.  It has not been an easy process….for me or those who have to listen  when I am frustrated, or confused, or feel like giving up (which kind of happens a lot…. A LOT. Belief changing is not for the faint of heart, let me tell you).

 I will never be perfect. There will always be something I can strive harder for, be better at, and learn more of. It's a never ending (and can we just  say exhausting at times) process, but for the first time in a very long time I am excited about who I CAN be. Hell, who I ALREADY am. (Did I just say that out loud?)

 I still have physical pain, but that is getting better, and my belief that it will last forever is NO MORE!!!!  I am healthy….let me say that one more time, I AM HEALTHY!  And I am grateful. So so grateful. For everything that has led me to this point, as painful as it has been, both physically and emotionally. I am proud for as many times as I looked the Devil in his eyes and told him to “get the bleepity bleep bleep bleep outta my head” and didn't give in to the negative, self defeating thoughts (and let's just be honest here, there have been plenty of times that I gave into those bad, bad thoughts).  

I have learned a great deal about gratitude and how important it is to be grateful for EVERYTHING. Not JUST the good, but the bad. Not just the peace, but the pain. Not just the pretty, but the UGLY (and you haven't seen ugly till you've seen me wallowing in my own self-pity for days at a time). Not just the lesson learned, but the path I've had to take to learn that lesson.  I am grateful for the strength I realized that I have.  And for ALL the opportunities I have been given to grow and change.

 And ESPECIALLY grateful for all the people who have helped me along this journey, who have listened to me, who have supported me, who have told me what I needed to hear when I needed to hear it (even though I didn't WANT to hear it). For those  who have held my hand, wiped my tears, and hugged me tight (and when I say wipe my tears I mean that metaphorically speaking because that…. would just be awkward).   Having an amazing support group makes all the difference in the world.  And I just happen to have the best!! 

I have no idea what this blog will be about in the future.  Mostly, it's probably just for me. I have to write/talk about what I learn in order to process it.  You are welcome to follow  as I try to make sense of, and figure out where I am headed.  It's bound to be an interesting ride.