• Willing to Live

    • August 29, 2011 9:12 am

    Dearest Readers,

    This post is for you if you are feeling overwhelmed, run down by life, paralyzed by fear, stuck in a rut, cynical, helpless, hopeless. I would like you to know that you are not alone.

    Before I go on, I would like to preface what I am about to say by telling you that I have a great life. I am young, healthy, talented, loved, and pretty cute. AND I struggle with anxiety and fear. So despite the fact that I have enormous amounts of abundance and opportunities for joy in my life I go to bed some nights and wake up some days in cold, naked, fear.

    Last night was one of those nights and this morning was one of those mornings.

    When I went to bed last night I told myself that when the cat pounced on me at 5:30 the next day I would not go back to bed after getting up to feed him. I would do the morning routine and embrace the day. I was determined because I knew that if I didn’t, if I let the fear plague me it would end up driving the bus of my day and I would sink deeper into the mire.

    So this morning at 5:30 a.m., right on schedule, “Pounce!” The cat jumped on me and began his mournful sing-song to waken me. Guess what? I ignored him. I pulled the covers over my head and stuck a finger in my ear.

    Fear: 1, Celia: 0

    Now because I am aware of my shortcomings, because I am aware that I rebel against my Highest Good, because I well know that I get in my own way more often than I care to admit, I did not stop there. I did not let the fear win.

    Despite myself, I began to ask for help. Buried under those covers with a finger in my ear listening to the cat cry for his breakfast I began to pray like a motherlover.

    “I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to face the day. It’s too much. Please help me. Please forgive me. Please give me the strength and courage to pull my covers off and sit up and get up and feed the cat and start the morning routine and live the day. I don’t want to because I’m afraid but I’m willing. Give me the courage, please, I need strength, please help me.”

    I kept on like that for some time. I just kept on. Then out came the finger. Off came the covers. I sat up. I got up. I fed the cat. I splashed water on my face and drank water. Life-giving water. I felt relief.

    Celia:1, Fear: 0

    I began the morning routine, entering into deeper prayer and meditation. I did a yoga practice. I WENT FOR A JOG. IN THE RAIN. When I got back I picked raspberries from the bush in our yard for breakfast.

    Miracles all.

    Somewhere around the five-minute mark into the jog (those of you who have been following this blog since the beginning will be most impressed for I began hauling myself up an outdoor staircase two years ago to build cardio activity into my life and nearly had a heart attack) I began to feel better. The fear began to lift and I could feel my energy changing. Hallelujah.

    For a person who is gripped by fear or anxiety the most difficult thing in the world to do is to get up off the proverbial couch. And yet it is the absolute solution to the problem. We must get up off the couch and step into our lives for the fear to lift, for things to change, for the miracle of thankfulness to overtake the dread. And yet how? How do we do that when we are paralyzed?

    Ask. Ask for the strength and courage. Beg for it if you have to. It will come. It. Will. Come.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: I am willing to live despite my fear. I am willing to move forward with love in my heart. I’m terrified of what lies ahead and life feels too big for me to handle. But I’m willing because I trust the shift will come and when it does I will be returned to thankfulness and inner peace, which is my true state of being.

    One!

    • September 21, 2010 10:36 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Today is the one year anniversary of Inspiring Message of the Day. I just went back and read the very first post, which I wrote in response to hearing the Still Small Voice say, “Get up and write a blog.”

    “Huh?” I remember thinking, “Are you completely serious?” But I listened. And if you look at the time of that post it says “5:47 a.m.” And that was an hour after getting up and figuring out Blogger and then writing the darn thing. Case in point: I obeyed the command despite its seemingly bizarre nature.

    As I was pondering what to write on this momentous occasion I thought about all the things I could say. The most obvious one is that I achieved a goal. This is huge. I committed to posting six days a week for one year and I actually did that without fail. Granted, some posts are better than others but nevertheless I did it. So “clink” and congratulations, Celia.

    There were other goals that came out of the blog that I achieved as well. I made a commitment in Run For Your Life to do one form of cardiovascular exercise a week in addition to my daily yoga practice. And guess what? I’ve kept that up, too. As I was running up those Black St. stairs two at a time yesterday I thought, “My body has changed.” A year ago I was huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.

    But here is the question that is really begging to be answered. Have I changed the thing that prompted the blog in the first place? That rage that powered the prayer to help me not strangle the cat?

    Yes. And no.

    The rage can still come up. So that’s not gone. Maybe it never will be. But the force at which it arrives has lessened considerably. The cat hasn’t jumped on my stomach for a long time. Coincidence? Probably not. Now when he cries at 5 a.m. I pat him, scratch his ears, talk to him quietly and lift up the covers so he can snuggle underneath them with me. And then we both go back to sleep. Some kind of Surrender had to take place in me and I had to let It in.

    Yesterday I had a major deadline to meet. I was at Staples making copies and things were not going my way. The copier printed 170 pages of my work with a big black line through each one. The 3-hole punch was on the wrong setting and the holes in 120 pages were skewed. I could feel that old rage starting to boil.

    I took a deep breath and said, “Please help me. I can’t handle this.”

    Moments later a woman who might be called the town loonie came stomping into the store. She was having some kind of psychotic episode. She was ranting unintelligibly and everyone just kind of stopped and stared. She did a tour around the cash registers and then she left.

    This woman just happens to be one of my Symbols. There she was. Appearing almost immediately after I’d asked for Higher Guidance. I relaxed. Look at your life, Celia. Look at what you have. Your problems are not really problems. Things fell into their proper perspective.

    Thinking back to a year ago and that morning of the first blog I can see the difference between who I was then and who I am now. Yes, I have changed. And I will continue to change if I continue to ask for that Help. I can’t do it by myself. I need something Greater, something More Powerful than my little old self. That part, thank goodness, hasn’t changed.

    This is by no means the last blog, Dearest Readers, but I am going to take a bit of a break. I have a play to write and this precious time I take to post each day must now be used for that.

    Thank you, thank you, thank you, a million times thank you for reading. Thank you for being there, for being You, for Be-ing. You are amazing!

    Inspiring Message of the Day: When I am in need of Great Strength I will continue to ask for It. I will ask no matter where I am and no matter what I am doing. Today I will trust that when I ask for help It will come. It will come.

    Day Four

    • June 10, 2010 6:39 am

    Dearest Readers,

    One of the greatest things I’ve heard said about being on the Healing Path and leaving our Old BS (belief systems) behind is that “we don’t go back to them as often, we don’t stay in them as long and we get out of them sooner.”

    Learning this was a huge help for me, the recovering perfectionist, because it meant I didn’t ever have to graduate to being fixed. It meant that I would get better (and I have) but I could still screw up.

    I got lost yesterday. One would think that with an iPhone (complete with a Google Map App) and a built in compass in the vehicle that losing one’s way would not be possible but oh, yes. It is and it was.

    Somehow I passed the road I was supposed to take and after narrowly missing the on-ramp to the highway I pulled off and began driving in the (sort-of) right direction. I found a place to pull over and got out the iPhone to find my way once again.

    No service.

    Whaaat? Am I suddenly in Siberia? Does this one particular section of Ottawa not have a cell phone tower? No answer would satisfy. No shirt, no service, kid.

    A gas station up ahead! I could go there and ask for help. At least I’ve learned that much.

    There, a very helpful guy told me where I needed to go. He was having trouble talking because he’d been up since four a.m. (it was now 1:30 p.m.) but he was a real cutie and totally willing to help me. I almost asked him for his number. Kidding. Sort of.

    So I followed his directions (I had actually listened to them — I’ve asked for directions before and then not listened — good mule that I am) and eventually found myself on the street that he mentioned. Uh-oh. New problem: even though I’d listened I still wasn’t completely clear about where to go next.

    This is where the old behaviour came back. I actually started to whine. Whimper, too. Oh, and bang my hands against the steering wheel while swearing profusely. I was now late for the meeting I’d set up. Things were not going my way. Solution? Act like a two-year old.

    I’m glad to say that within that childish moaning was embedded a prayer. Okay, more like begging but “help me” was thrown in amongst the curses. Then I remembered something: Trust. Everything is happening as it should. It’s all okay.

    A woman appeared pushing a stroller. I rolled down the window and stopped the vehicle. I did not introduce my two-year old to hers. I was calm, collected, and kind. A better actress you’ve never seen. But it was right to be polite. And she was sweet as honey, giving me the final directions to the place I was going not 4 minutes away.

    Seven minutes late. Totally no big deal. Fantastic meeting. Why the sh#% fit? Pride. What would the man I was meeting think of me? Yes, that little worry is enough for a big ego to take the wheel, literally.

    So it all worked out, of course. I didn’t need to lose my sh%#. But I did and so be it. Not perfect yet. But I haven’t been two in a while. I didn’t stay two for long. And I managed to turn 38 again PDQ.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: No service? On the contrary. The Human Being is the ultimate Map App.