So get this… everybody has dreams right? At some point in their life, young or old, rich or poor, happy or sad – everyone has had a dream. A goal. A wish. An idea of how “x” would be if “y” happened. So what happened? What thing occurred (or didn’t occur) that caused “y” not to happen. When did the dream die?
So mornings, in general, are hard. That’s not a question, just a fact of life. Waking out of a lovely slumber to force yourself to start a new day can be difficult. But, what’s the alternative? Not waking up? Yea, I’ll take the alarm clock for 200, please.
So the question, then, is how to make this most necessary task less task-like. The internet and self-help aisle abound with hundreds of ideas and routines to get your mind and feet in total harmony come sunrise. But who has time for all of that? We’re just trying to wake up here! No need to fret, lovelees – I’ve reviewed the masses and threw in a few of my own to bring you my favorite 5 for your breakfast-skipping pleasure (wait – you probably don’t want to skip breakfast unless your doing intermittent fasting) . Hopefully you’ll find a few new ideas to ease that transition from sheet to street.
So I have been on a mission. This mission has been started and stopped many times before (like for years… don’t judge me) but this time, I feel like I’ve actually gotten my mind and body on the same page. Like, they’re friends now. And if you’ve been on this mission before, you probably know exactly what I am talking about. Continue reading “Scale Wars… Issa Journey.”
Yes, it’s true. Secret’s out. This frequent flier of the clear blue (but oftentimes turbulent) skies has a deep-seated, text your loved ones goodbye, pray ten times before takeoff and seven more times in the air fear: flying. From DC to Brazil to California to Rome, each and every flight in my lifetime has caused me a guaranteed and certain anxiety. Early morning, late night, well planned out, or last minute – it doesn’t even matter. If I’m going up, so is my heart rate.
Even as I write this now, I’m nervously shifting in my 22A window seat (cue Eryka Badu) pondering my life and hoping that I’ve made Him proud. Cause what else do you ponder at this insane altitude watching the lights flicker on the earth below somewhere between Texas and Baltimore? I tried to go to sleep, as I almost always attempt to do before takeoff, but like so many times before – I’ve failed. So now I’m up, my Beats by Dre pumping NeoSoul into my eardrums, doing their best to drown out the turbulence and my own overactive imagination. They are failing as well.
The question, though, is why do I put myself through this anguish? I mean right now the ride is relatively smooth and I feel like I am in no immediate danger. But there have been flights where I have cried real tears and where the poor soul next to me has grabbed my hand to reassure me that we would live. (Yes, he really did – I must have looked as terrified as I was.) So why, again, do I do this to myself of my own free will every chance I get? It’s simple:
Because what I really want is on the other side of fear.
And isn’t that so often the case? Think about it. What would you do in this very moment if you weren’t afraid to do it? Where would you go? Who would you talk to? What would you say? Who would you become?
And I’m not referring to the healthy fear, the one that protects us and guides us to make wise decisions. That fear of being run over that keeps a lone child from crossing a busy street. That fear is helpful. That fear can save lives. But what about that other fear. That negative fear that causes us to not go for that promotion or opportunity, to not approach that person we’ve been eyeing from afar, to not say I’m sorry, or that I love you first. That kind of fear is stifling, debilitating. That’s the kind of fear that would’ve kept me from seeing the castles in Portugal, from swimming with the sting rays in the Cayman Islands. I may have never gotten the chance to freeze my tail off in Paris or scare myself silly in London’s museum of wax. Yes I had to nervously board a plane to attain all of these experiences, but I felt the fear and then did it anyway.
What fear are you feeling at this very moment? (Mine is that the captain just announced our descent.) But what about you? Is there something you’d like to do/say/be but an unhealthy fear is getting in the way? Why not re-evaluate and then make it happen. As I wrote in a previous post, arrange and rearrange. People often say that life is too short to be unhappy. I say life is too long. Some people go 30, 40, 50+ years carrying shoulda’ woulda’ coulda’s that tear them up inside. That’s too long. Too long to be sad. Too long to be unhappy. Too long to be afraid. My aim is to live a determined life; to set fearless goals, and then work fiercely to attain them: spiritual, physical, and otherwise. And as I prepare to utter my next “oh Lord, please let this plane land safely cause I don’t wanna die” prayer, I sincerely urge you to do the same. (Not the prayer part, just the goals part… though prayer never hurts. But that’s for another blog post :))
I promise you I awoke with the best of intentions. And yes, I know it’s Monday. What’s the cardinal rule? Never miss a Monday. Never. So even though I went to bed with a slight headache already fully aware I’d want to sleep past the third alarm, I knew come morning I would throw on my workout clothes and be prepared to sweat at some point during the day. I mean look at the photos… I’ve been doing pretty well. Kind of. But here it is almost 9:30 pm and I am still in these blasted workout clothes… sans sweat.
Now why am I confessing my workout (or lack thereof) sins on the worldwide net? Accountability. A girl has goals, and missing today does not get me any closer to that for which I am striving. And, ok… if I’m going to be totally honest, my eating wasn’t on point either. I mean some of it was. I just cooked and polished off this grilled skinless chicken breast and roasted brussel sprouts and it was delicious! But the leftover mini-cupcakes and cookies from Sunday’s cook-off, also delicious, were on the menu as well and for that I pat this belly in shame.
Oh the struggle for the thicky with goals. But I digress…
In a few days, I travel for a friends wedding and cannot guarantee I will be on my A-game. A long-time girlfriend I haven’t seen in years is hosting me for the week and she already informed me plans have been set and the wine has been bought. So rather than beat myself up on what’s looking to be an amazing trip, I have devised a game plan for once I return. Total beast mode. Nutrition. Training. Sweat. Because while I love being a full-figured cutie, health over beauty so I will tame these curves and lift those weights. It’s all set and I am looking forward to it. Truthfully.
But til then, I hang my head in sugar-coated shame and apologize to the www for missing this Monday. I’ll do better tomorrow. Promise.