Drop the Drama

I have a lot of feelings.

Ever find yourself watching Teen Mom on purpose? Lifetime movies? Crying over songs Justin Timberlake wrote for Jessica Biel? Super Bowl commercials?

It can get a little embarrassing, but I do. When people open up about great loss, when they open up over great triumph, when they make something beautiful, when they display any degree of passion in any direction–I cry. I can face it: I cry a lot.

Past

As a kid, my mom and other relatives would call me a “drama queen,” and it caused me great hurt. My feelings felt so real to me; how could people who love me devalue them like that?

When I grew into an adolescent, I rebelled against my feelings. I hated that I was emotional, so I took on a persona of  “hippie” and “chill”. Drama free, care free. I wanted to be Cool Girl, and I steered clear of all people who were always fighting about who knows what, in favor of others who shared the same carefree careless attitude toward life. I wanted to be strong.

As an adult, I embrace my feelings, and take pride in the empathy I have for others. I learned that strength comes from knowing yourself, expressing yourself fearlessly, and inspiring others to do the same. I steered away from the drama-filled people and the careless, and confide in people who are emotionally aware. Now, I’m really drama free, right?

Present

Not quite. A little perspective I gathered from my 40 days meeting today:

Just because you steer clear of unnecessary conflict and people who are always wrapped up in it, doesn’t make you bulletproof from drama.

How often do you think, “Well, I really want to _______, BUT _____,” where BUT is some aspect of life that you allow to limit your growth?

  • “I really want to lose weight, BUT I can’t make the time to work out.
  • “I really want to eat healthy, BUT I hardly know how to cook.
  • “I really want to blog everyday, BUT I worry that there’s nothing valuable in what I have to say, and no one will care.
  • “I really want to simplify my life, BUT first I have to tend to my to-do list.

These are limiting beliefs I’ve let control my actions–my life even. I bring drama to things like going for a run because I haven’t done the laundry yet. I bring drama into cooking because I might fail again, I bring drama into blogging because “Oh no, I posted a link to my blog on Facebook and now people who I know could read about how I really feel and things I do that no one probably cares about and I’ll be vulnerable and they’ll judge me and my writing isn’t good enough and and and!” 

I bring drama into finding misplaced objects: “Where is that f*cking thing?” and as I continue to look, “Damn it! I can’t live in this mess!” and I bring drama into laundry: “I’m going to fold some laundry, but first I need to find a movie on Netflix to watch while doing that.” Then later, “Ugh! Why does Netflix keep messing up, I’m trying to focus on getting this stuff done!” 

Future

Now that I’ve noticed these thought patterns, I can bring ease into my daily life. I can stop thinking about what could limit me, and just BEGIN. I can think to myself, “Where is that useful object?” and replace the word “f*cking” with “delightful” in any situation. I can glide over the hurdles effortlessly if I’m focused on the finish line. All I need to do is see and drop the drama.

Is there something simple in life that you add drama to? Let me know in the comments!

 Featured image found on https://myfitwitjourney.wordpress.com/

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This is it!: My 2nd 40 days to Personal Revolution

It sounds hokey, I know. I was curious when I first saw posters for 40 Days at my yoga studio. Personal Revolution, really? It’s pretty ballsy to say you’ve got a program that’ll single-handedly change the lives of those who take part. The flyer seemed so vague–forty days of WHAT will lead me to this?

During the first meeting, I learned what we’d be doing. There’s a book that was authored by the creator of Baptiste Yoga and each week we had assigned readings from the book that included directives on how we will be eating, meditating and practicing yoga for the following week. At the end of each reading, there are questions to answer about yourself and the way you’re experiencing the world, to dig deep at what is blocking you from living the life you want to be leading.

Along with the book, we were required to do yoga six times a week (five of which had to be at the studio, one could be at home), meditate morning and night for an increasing amount of time and attend a meeting once a week at the studio that focused on what was showing up for us through the process. At Big Yoga, we’re very much into community, so there were a few other things thrown in there so we’d get to know each other, but that’s the bulk of the plan.

This was my second time doing the program. The first time opened up a lot of stuff for me, and I was intrigued by these people who have essentially read the same book again and again and felt the need to participate again. I was curious as to what could lie ahead.

Here’s what happened:

I stopped worrying about pleasing other people and became aware of the subtle hints I was dropping to myself and the people around me about what I really wanted. I committed to changing. I decided to leave my job and we mutually parted ways. I allowed myself to be vulnerable, and opened up really deep feelings to a whole room of people I didn’t know and also to my closer friends. I opened up in general. I blossomed and became visually happier to those around me. I celebrated my accomplishments and accepted applause. I took breaks from vices that once controlled me, and continued with changed attitudes toward those things. I connected more deeply with every person in my life.

I became a stay-at-home mom and am completely fulfilled by it. After years of trying to prove myself, I’m convinced that I am enough. I became organized, cleaned my house, and have stayed up-to-date day-to-day with my calendar. I got things done that I had been putting off. I became calmer and more patient in my responses, which led me to be a better mother, wife, daughter, friend, granddaughter, and co-parent. I felt more warmth toward everyone around me. I began volunteering regularly to serve my community. I hugged my dad like an old friend, for the first time in my life.

Oh yeah, and I got better at yoga.

My 25th Year: a post-birthday post

This time last year, I was working in the digital department of a large local retailer, putting in sixty hour weeks working beneath an unqualified manager–and bully–who had “known the right person” to get his position. I was overworked, overwhelmed, filled with guilt about my inability to have time for my family, and unsure as to where my “family” stood: my son was now beginning to call my boyfriend his dad…leaving much to be desired. As a recent graduate, I was engulfed with worry that this was what I had worked hard for and it my new normal. I was devastated, to say the least. Those emotions are what consumed me during the days I celebrated the first #quartercenturyofkelsie.

I’m quick to assess a situation’s costs and benefits and make adjustments, regardless of how difficult they seem at first. My thirst for growth is never satiated, and the previous year was filled with big choices, mature revelations, humble understanding, and peaceful acceptance. Here’s some of what I learned in my twenty-fifth year:

1. I am enough.

I spent the first few years of my twenties trying to prove something. I had a child at nineteen. I was devastated by the stigma and felt I needed to be redeemed. My final year of college was guided by fear of achieving a job, and when my job was depleting my quality of life, I didn’t know how I could save myself while still upholding this Wonder Woman Mom image I had been fighting for.

In January of this year, I participated in a 40 day transformation the Houston yoga studio that I belong to. The program is a combination of daily yoga and meditation, mindful eating (and living), and hard-hitting concepts that everyone struggles with. Through this program and my inward contemplation, I began to understand how OKAY I already am, how my journey is just as it should be, the illusion of right vs. wrong, and applied these concepts to my perception of others. I highly recommend the program, which can be guided through Baron Baptist’s book, 40 Days to Personal Revolution.

2. Letting go is worth it.

This year I said goodbye to some people who had been friends to me for a very long time, and I also reconnected with someone whose friendship I had let go of years ago. Someone’s presence is either serving your journey or they are holding you back from it. Don’t let feeling like you owe someone keep you from the growth you need.

On a bigger scale, you have to be willing to let go in the same way of dreams that you had for you future, so that you can make room for new ones. When Mark proposed this past November, I was stoked to have the dream wedding I couldn’t have when I married my son’s father as a teenager and then have a marriage filled with love and respect as I had hoped. Then I reviewed the budget and had to prioritize.

We’re still getting married, but it won’t be a big affair. Yes, I had those dreams a child, but I dreamed of going to Harvard before I was a slacker and the various other ways I let my life go astray from that. The dreams I’m achieving because I didn’t get stuck in not achieving others is why my life is so fulfilled.

3. Working a 9-5 is SO last century.

My favorite thing about working from home for a Houston-based marketing firm and our partners, is that all of the people I’m meeting with have one thing in common: they value life as a whole.

There’s this big issue with work/home balance in our society, but the people in my circle are living the lives that they desire—travelling the world, having the time to enjoy their family, staying faithful in their religion, and being active in their hobbies, all while running a business. We work random hours, but we’re able to enjoy it, rather than spending half of the day mindlessly surfing the web and watching the clock.

4. I’m not that great of a parent.

.,..But I’m not that bad of one, either. When I was growing up, I was always upset my mom was at school or work instead of being around and spite toward my absentee father grew stronger and stronger. I had opinions about the parenting that was given to me, and was sure that when I became a mother, I would do everything better. When Tobias was in utero and infancy, I read all the books I could get my hands on, then I was cocky about the choices I made—sure that they were the “right” ones.

I yell, I say inappropriate things, I talk too much and lose my patience quickly. But I’m doing the best I can, and that’s okay. The boy is all right.

As am I. Twenty-six sure sounds old, but it came with a sense of peace and an invigorating sense of priorities. I’ll take that over a face without fine lines and wrinkles any day.