Sharing (9)

It has been almost an entire year since I've entered anything into my blog series entitled, Progression into Beauty. It's not that my progression into beauty has been forgotten or given up, but rather, my progression into beauty has taken several turns into other realms than focusing on losing weight. It has been QUITE the year since my last entry into this series. However, the promptings are coming from all around and I'm paying attention. It's time to focus again on my physical body.

A few days ago, I received an email from a very dear friend, Gaby, that has sent into motion a chain of events that I have never before considered. It read something like this...

Ang-

...This is a big risk for me so I am going to be brave.

This Saturday (31st) is the open casting auditions for "Biggest Loser" at NBC here in SLC. They are taking individuals and teams. Would you like to be my partner in this adventure?

All we need for Saturday is a picture and our personalities. You can find info on the KSL page....

I want to do this but you are the only person I would consider doing this adventure with as a partner. I know together we could learn a ton and have fun.

What do you think?

Love you,
Gabs

Thus ensued a thought process that went something like this...

I LOVE Gaby! We have so much fun together! It would be such an adventure to be on "Biggest Loser" with her and there would be lots to learn about. But I haven't really ever followed the show... hmmmm... I imagine that could be a problem... and I don't really like the name of the show... seems "negative" to me... BUT it would be so fun to do that with Gaby! We could TOTALLY do it!

Without more thought than that, I shot off a response: ABSOLUTELY! LET'S GO FOR IT!

What was I thinking? WOW! This is a HUGE commitment. I had NO idea how big of a commitment it truly is until our studying began. She and I have been researching and getting educated on the show, watching as much related stuff as we can get our hands on, reading blogs, reading wikipedia, reading news articles, watching contestant videos. We spent 4 1/2 hours together last night going over everything we've discovered, discussing what we want to do next and talking, talking, TALKING to see if spending four months together in a house in another state away from our lives here, with other people and being totally focused on our health was something that sounded appealing and do-able. We came away from that with a resounding yes.

WE ARE GOING FOR IT! We WILL be at the casting call next Saturday.

Who woulda thunk it!

So... three cheers for Gaby and me! Send lots of good "Biggest Loser" success juju. She and I can pull off anything together so this is going to be SUPER FUN!

Sharing (8)

I've discovered that my days go generally "better" if I walk in the mornings. This walking gives me space and time to immediately go into gratitude and appreciation for all the beautiful miracles of the world and my life. It was an especially delicious experience this morning because my Baby Angel chose to walk with me and it's always a pleasure when she is in the mix.

Every morning, though, this morning stroll - because, truly I'm strolling and have no desire to power walk - is a feast for my senses.

The sound of my feet hitting the pavement, the grass, the puddles, the dirt road in the field. The sound of the electricity coursing through the massive power lines over head. The sound of the wind blowing against the crispy weeds.

The smell of the secret harvest of white sage I've discovered in this field. The smell of morning dew in the air, on the grass. The hint of the scent of the approaching autumn season. The smell of flowers and dust.

The colors seem to be more brilliant to my eyes and the details seem to stand out more vividly. The slightest change in the landscape is noticeable. Even the smallest weed in the cracks of the sidewalk seems significant. Dancing around the potatoe bugs - or Tapatoe bugs, as my daughter kept accidentally calling them - so that I didn't crush any of them while they were on their morning stroll, really kept my eyes alert.

The mists from the sprinklers in this yard and that kisses my skin and leaves me shivery for but a moment. The trees lean over to caress me with their leaves and branches and the grasshoppers flit about quickly, landing on me and sending me squealing because it's one of my least favorite sensations to have a grasshopper land on me.

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Sharing (7)

I consciously began the process of regaining my body back in January of 2007. I believed, back then, that starting it AND writing about it would support me in reaching my goals, which I had clearly defined for myself and the world in my very first post, Confessions of the Fat Girl. My goals were focused, solely, on losing weight. Lots of weight.

When I switched the title of my project two months later from Confessions of the Fat Girl to Progression into Beauty, I had no idea what making the commitment to progress into beauty would unleash in my world. Since making that commitment, I have faced the "stay or go" decision twice - two opportunities to leave the earth or stay. Two! Once with West Nile Virus and again almost 2 months ago on June 17, 2009. On both occasions, I was visited by a disembodied voice who offered a choice, "Angie, you can choose to stay or you can choose to go. Which is it?"

Each time, I chose to stay.

This last time around, something shifted in me. They could find nothing wrong with me at the hospital. In fact, all the tests came back with the results that I was "perfect." Interesting. I'm perfect? Then why the hell am I laying in this hospital bed feeling like I am disappearing?

I was dissatisfied with that answer and decided to take my own life into my own hands and get busy BEING ALIVE! I called my doctor, Todd Cameron, ND, the very next day. When I sat across his desk from him, I said, "Todd, it's time. I've chosen to stay here AND I am committed to being alive. Let's get busy creating my wellness program."

He ran me through a battery of blood tests and such to discover I'm in Metabolic Syndrome and Adrenal Fatigue. In other words, my adrenals and thyroid are trying to shut down. My cells are not receiving insulin correctly and my hormones are way out of balance. All in all, the most delicate and small parts of my system need support - the parts that a general test in an emergency room passes right over.

On Saturday, August 8, 2009, I officially began my own wellness program with the close guidance and interactive participation of two brilliant doctors, Todd and Grant Redstone, DC. We are following the First Line Therapy diet plan from Metagenix. I am LOVING it and am feeling really surprised by the immediate results. I'm especially appreciating that I have the desire and energy to move my body. That feels deliciously delightful!

I had the idea as I walked this morning that I would post some of the images I see while walking and share with you the stuff I ruminate on while I'm on this journey of health. This morning, the images that caught my eye were the cheery sunflowers. I love sunflowers because of their heliotrope abilities - they follow the sun. They turn to the east each morning to greet the rising sun and by day's end, they are facing the west to kiss it good night. Fun!






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Sharing (6)

"My Feet"

My feet have done me proud all my life. They are little, tiny things - generally a size 5 1/2 or 6 - which makes sense since I am only 5' tall. I always am amused by people who flip over how small my feet are because it would just be silly if they were any bigger. I would look like a clown.

My feet have danced my way through life so they are strong and know how to point prettily. What I like most about my feet is that they are symetrical... from big toe to little toe, each toe is just slightly shorter than the one proceeding it. They form a beautiful, graceful, curving slope downward without the usual second-toe-longer thing that most people have. I like that. And it made it so much more comfortable when it came time for me to go up en pointe when I was in ballet.

Over the last few years, my feet have begun to feel sad. As the pounds have accumulated around my small skeleton, my feet have taken the brunt of it. They are supporting double the weight they were made to support and they are showing the wear and tear. Some days, by the time I crash into bed, my feet seem to be screaming for relief. Thing is, the louder they scream, it seems I ignore them more. I mean, I am not losing any weight. It's just staying there. I feel different about myself and people are seeing me differently, but the scales? They still holler out the truth with blaring rudeness.

In addition to the weight, the energy work I do really grounds through my feet. I became aware of the change in my feet when I began my internship as Reiki Master Teacher. My feet went through some wild changes during that time. And now, I am really aware of them while I am working. Sometimes they feel as hot as a volcano. Sometimes they feel heavy, like they are encased in cinderblock. While I am doing this work and channeling in a cycle heaven to earth, I realize that the energy is not accumulating there, but those little feet of mine are conduit for the heat of the Universe.

A few years ago, my mother gave me a pedicure as a gift. She loves pedicures. I appreciated the loving gesture and ventured in to the salon for the experience. Because my feet appear so abused - no matter how much lotion I slather on them - I am very conscious of how others view my feet. I have had people gasp in horror when they spy the gaping cracks and thick, calloused heels. It isn't pretty and I felt embarrassed to have someone working on my feet.

The young lady was not very well trained. She razored my heels to rawness. She picked at my toenails until they bled (I have never had a problem with the toes, just the heels) and she buffed the sides of my feet to burning pinkness with a block of what seemed like coarse-grained sandpaper. For three weeks following the ordeal, I could barely walk and the pain for the first three days was so intense it brought tears to my eyes. I haven't had a pedicure since.

While I was in massage school, Reflexology was a required course - actually the very first class of my very first semester. People were going to have to be touching my feet???! Ugh! I was mortified! The ten-week class, however, gave me a new appreciation of my feet. I began to love them again. They began to feel happy again. Then the class ended and I no longer had an "excuse" to pay attention to them.

My feet have continued to do what is expected of them. They walk me to and fro. They dance me. They run me if, god forbid (cuz I hate it!), I ever decide to run. They jump when I need them to. They hold me steady on the earth. And... I ignore them, for the most part.

My good friend, Jen Halterman offers an amazing service of Intuitive Coaching while the client is receiving an ionic foot bath. She and I discussed the option of doing professional trades. I had no idea what an ionic foot bath was and was concerned that it was a modality that, once again, would focus my attention on my feet, but it felt right (chivels and all) so I went for it.

WOW!

I loved that I had the ability to see a physical response to the energetic and emotional processing she facilitated. Being that I am a Reiki Master Teacher, I am able to amp up the process and truly chose in for the hour I was with her. I experienced physical, shifting responses in my body. I felt pain rise and leave. I heard my stories of sadness disipating into the water that grew evermore murky until it looked like I was soaking in thick coffee. I appreciated the sensations that woke up in my adipose fat - my biggest storage area of protection. I appreciated the innate sense that the memories were dissolving and melting out of me.

Afterward, I felt lighter and my feet felt wide awake. I was so aware of my feet, sending them appreciations and love. Despite the weight they carry, my feet truly do their job well. I am grateful for that.

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Sharing (5)

The latest article in my Progression Into Beauty column...

"Growing by the Minute"

At the beginning of May, I was given the opportunity to dance my essence dance. For the first time in 20 years, I allowed myself to dance. At the end of my performance, I stood at the end of the stage and stared at the room full of people who were sitting on the edge of their seats, jaws agape and eyes wide. Then the room erupted in a standing ovation.

I felt tears burning behind my eyes. They were tears of release. I had released myself and I felt like I was soaring. I soaked in the victory and the applause and the feedback. I reveled in the tears of joy on the faces of my friends and the delicious words they bounced back to me. I cherished the reflection of my beauty.

Breathing it all in, there on the stage, I checked in with myself and discovered with a gasp that I felt taller. It was a wild sensation and I shared it with the group who offered some of their impressions of what that could mean. For me it meant that I finally understood what/who I am. I finally got that I am a big, powerful being with a super-huge essence. As I have strived to not recognize my power, stay small, play small and make myself smaller so those around me are not intimidated by my grandness, I have compressed myself. And my little frame, to accomodate this voluminous energy, has made itself wider and rounder to hold it all. There was nowhere for it to go because I wouldn't allow myself to show my true self, so it just devolved into fat and wound itself around my skeleton until I became only a slightly recognizable, more rotund version of who I once was.

Since that day, Megan, one of the facilitators who witnessed my explosion onto the stage, approached me to say that she had dreamt of me. It was a lucid dream wherein she actually heard herself say to herself, "Remember this. You need to share it with Angie." In this dream, she saw me as flowing and tall.

Since that day, several people have stopped me to say, "Angie, have you done something new? You seem... different... somehow." Each of them, when they have said the word "different" have gestured vaguely with their hands somewhere above their head. As though they are unable to tag the change but that it seems to be going on above my physical head.

Then, the other day, my assistant/replacement invited me to go to lunch with her friend. When we stepped in the door of the Sushi restaurant, he was already there. His back was to us and I heard myself think, "I love a man in a pink shirt. It shows me they are confident and strong in being a man and can still wear pink." I was grinning at my thought and staring at his waistline, since that was pretty much where my line of vision leveled out on him. He stands over 6'4" tall.

She introduced us, we sat down and we proceeded to have one of the best conversations I have had in a long time. It has been ages since I have met anyone, especially a man, who was willing to stand in the face of my inquisitiveness and answer me with full-on eye contact. No matter what I asked, he answered it without a twitch, without a shrug. He was completely open, completely transparent and I was completely in awe.

At one point in the conversation, my assistant, was commenting that she wasn't short and that she could ride a Harley if someone would just teach her.

He said, "Oh yeah. You're what, a towering 5'4"?"

She laughed. "Yes. But Angie's shorter than me."

"She is not," he said, eyes wide with surprise. "She is way taller than you."

I was surprised and I imagine it registered on my face because he looked at me and said, "Is that true? How tall are you?"

"Yeah, it's true. I'm five foot even."

"No way! I could have sworn when you walked through that door that you were towering over her."

Later that night, it hit me. I suddenly realized that people are seeing my essence, that I have allowed myself, my true authentic self, to come forward and that is what people are interacting with. I see that people are seeing who I really am rather than what I have incorrectly believed them to be seeing. I realized that my true self is a beautiful, lyrical, flowing, graceful and big spirit. I realized that this short, squatty, "voluptuous" figure is not a true representation of who I am. Moreover, I realized that this me, the physical me that I am right now, is beautiful in her own right and that I am in transition and aligning all parts of me authentically.

I feel such a sweet surrender in this.

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What Is My Body For?

A while back, my Reiki Master Teacher, Laiya Moniak, facilitated a session for me where we bumped up pretty stiffly against my walls of self-protection which are turning inward and developing a destructive force. For a long time now, I have had this "Hate Affair" with my body, seeing it as my enemy, rather than my ally. Its cumbersome form is getting the best of me and I feel scared, as though some alien force is at the helm of my ship. This disconnect, this need to be disembodied and absent from my physical form, has resulted in me placing myself in some dangerous situations. And, as I commit to moving forward, I am realizing that this particular program has got to change.

I feel inspired to share here my most recent exercise with her as part of my "Progression Into Beauty" work... (for a directory to the rest of the posts within this work, CLICK HERE.)

~~~

What is my body for?

You asked me this question and I felt lost, confused, unknowing. And then I felt scared. It is my body, for godsake! How can I not know what my body is for?

I have carried your note with me since that session, moving it continually forward to the next day, saying, “I’ll get to that tomorrow.” Well, tomorrow never came. Until now. And, interestingly enough, right after I wrote “until now,” my daughter called me. I have the impulse to say that one of the most important things that my body was for was creating her. And, I also understand that the answers we are searching for are different than that... I get the sense we are looking for present tense answers.

I feel scared...

“Can you find ten things that your body is for?” You had asked me and then added, “Can you find one thing that you will not judge?”

Yeah... I feel really scared. Here we go...

My body is for weighting (I heard “waiting” and wanted to type “waiting” but my fingers typed “weighting”).
My body is for carrying pain.
My body is for gathering information.
My body is for housing my healing gifts, my Reiki energy, my psychic powers.
My body is for enjoyment through my senses – especially hearing and touch.
My body is for holding on to old things.
My body is for flowing movement.
My body is for holding fear too close.
My body is for resting.
My body is for embracing.
My body is for luxuriating. (really?)
My body is for channeling information for myself and others.
My body is for understanding.
My body is for creation.
My body is for going to the movies. (found this one quite funny)
My body is for stuffing. (ick)
My body is for observing.
My body is for protection.
My body is for karma.
My body is for back stepping. (Aaaaaaaa... feel sad about this one)
My body is for unfulfilled yearnings. (sad about this one too)
My body is for connection.
My body is for profit. (WTF?! Totally judging this one.)
My body is for being in the sun.
My body is for laughter.
My body is for creating money. (NOT! Judging this one.)
My body is for repressed anger. (total resonation)
My body is for living.
My body is for travel.
My body is for comfort.
My body is for large emotional boundaries. (wow)
My body is for reaching out, but not grasping. (sad)
My body is for no return on investment. (What???!)
My body is for ease but I don’t believe that. (lol! That is exactly what I heard!!!)
My body is for copulation. (God! I hate that specific word – sounds so scientific and disconnected – although I love sex. I am curious why that word is the one that came up!!!)
My body is for rejoicing, singing, dancing, climbing, loving. (these all tumbled out together, one right after another faster, almost, than I could type)
My body is for rising above. (curious about this one.)
My body is for eating.
My body is for fulfillment.
My body is for joy.
My body is for weaving sparkling, beautiful ribbons of color in the world. (curious what this means.)
My body is for taking one step at a time.
My body is for listening.
My body is for holding.
My body is for being.

Okay… so that was way more than ten. I chose to put on meditative music and do this with my eyes closed. On each line, I silently asked, “What is my body for?” and typed the words, “My body is for,” and then would wait. I channeled whatever word, sensation, image or experience came to me and If anything came up after writing the sentence, I jotted that down too.

I am noticing right now that I feel a lot of repressed anger in my body, especially on my left side. My jaw is in raging pain across my whole face and feels like it is in lock-down. My muscles along my spine from mid-back to my ear are clenched on the left side. My left ear is burning. My sacral-iliac joint on the left side is pulsing painfully. My right leg from hip to toe is ice cold. My mouth is dry. My head feels like it weighs a ton and like I cannot hold it up for the life of me.

I haven’t read through the list, but am going to now before I send this off. If anything else comes up, I will make note of that. (Interesting... just as I finished “make note of that,” former husband called and I instantly felt all those anger symptoms skyrocket)

Any feedback?

~Angie

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Slip Slidin' Away

Whew... I made it. And even in one piece without any scratches, dents, dings or bumps. Nice to know.

I am grateful for the storms that have been relentlessly marching across my state for the past several weeks. Heaven knows we need the water.

And that is all I have this morning.

Oh. That and... I've lost four pounds... :)

Ten Weird Things

10 Weird things about me...

Cele posted a Talk Thursday and, although I am about a week behind – it’s dated 12/20/07 – I thought I would give it a go. And, now that I have decided to take it on, I am completely drawing a blank. Funny... yeah, not so funny...

10 – I have a story that I am unlovable because I am not some waif-like nymphet. Actually, I am a nymph (older than a nymphet, yet a nymph still the same), but I am far from being a waif. Somehow my brain has conjured that that is grounds for being unlovable.

9 – I want to be monetarily wealthy and yet I choose to sabotage myself by creating debt. There is no hope of getting ahead that way.

8 – I believe in Christ, (ack! I totally heard that hymn, which, at one point, was one of my most favorite hymns, blast through my head when I typed those words...), yet I am questioning the validity of that story – the “Birth of Christ.” I am questioning the reality/possibility of such an improbable tale. I am questioning if He is really my Savior, or anyone’s. I am wondering if my God would require His Son to die for me in order to save me. I am wondering why that sounds weird to me now. And I am really scared to write this one...

7 – I have three (almost five) completed books which I am absolutely terrified to query or publish.

6 – I do not call my father’s wife “stepmother.” I call her “my father’s wife.”

5 – Sometimes things come out of my mouth that sound so not-funny and actually quite serious to me in my head, yet people laugh so hard I think they will burst. When I intend to be funny, it is usually received as such. I am funnier around certain people than I am around others and I “feed” off the chemistry there. Sometimes I am surprised to hear someone say, “You are so damn funny!”

4 – Apparently, when I am angry, I am really, really scary. I have had big burly guys tell me that I intimidate the hell out of them when I am angry. I find that funny because I stand five feet tall and forget that I have an extra-large body (until, of course, I go shopping for swimsuits and such), in my head I see myself as tiny. So when these “big” people who tower over me tell me they are afraid of me, I laugh. Then I think about it and wonder if “intimidation” is really what I want to project.

3 – I long to be in a romantic love relationship, most likely with a man since that is my tendency, yet I surround myself with lesbians and gay men.

2 – I have a lot of friends who aren’t really friends and very few whom I would call real friends. Although I have a lot of people in my network, I feel really, really aware that I feel really, really alone. I am a sociable person seemingly without social skills. I love being invited, yet refuse to invite. I love to be included, yet refuse to plan on my own. Shit...

1 – I have spent my entire life trying to fit in and be like everyone else, while longing to be unique. While this is probably very common, it is the strangest thing indeed.

I am way too un-weird. This was a struggle for me. And now, as I am looking back at it, it seems to be another list of fears, rather than weirdness. Okay... so maybe I am more afraid than I am weird.

Go figure!

Christmas Carnage

I imagine that at one point - or a dozen points - throughout this holiday season that your house looked like this too. Wrapping paper that had been measured and folded with painstaking precision to create a lovely package now lay upon the floor shredded, discarded, forgotten. Bows are strewn from hell to breakfast to be trampled upon unheeded, unwanted, unappreciated. Those presents looked so pretty all stacked there beneath your shimmering Christmas tree, but what counts is what's inside.

Hmmmmm...

What counts is what's inside...

Perhaps I should listen to myself. I had no idea that that was what was going to come out this morning. I thought I was going to write about the fact that I feel shocked to go from 24/7 Christmas music - since November 1st - to no Christmas music as of midnight. Feels weird and I thought that was going to be my topic of interest today.

Instead, I give myself a reminder that the encasement of the gift is not what is important but, instead, it is what is on the inside. And, yes, when I wrote it, I meant it in a purely commericial, retail sort of way. But it hit me and it hit me hard.

What counts is what's inside...

That applies to me and you and you and YOU.

What counts is what's inside...

My beauty is inside. My extra large trappings were created by me to protect me from hurt and in a bizarre attempt to hide my beauty. Somehow I have tricked myself into believing that my outside - my body - is who I am.

And... well... now isn't this just ironic?!!!

Last week I had a conversation with a client of mine...

Me: Let me know if any of this deep work makes your arms or hands tingle or go numb.

Client: Deep? This is considered deep?

(informational sidenote here... I am a Licensed Massage Therapist. However, although I became an LMT first, I am really a Reiki Master. That is where my love is. I have focused my business toward energetic healing and interactive, support-full awakenings for my clients. And while I do not do full-body, naked Swedish massage anymore, I will do focused massage on troubled areas. That being said, I have never been a "deep" massage sort of person - in either the giving or receiving.)

Me: *grinning at my client's crown* Well, yes. It may not feel deep to you because I am not using deep physical pressure. I have found a lot of trigger points in you that feel like they go right into your core. When I am working with them, I am following them all the way in and they go way deep. Even if it doesn't feel like it to you, it's deep work. You may not recognize it, but your body does.

Client: *skeptical look on his face* Hmmmm... interesting. How can that be? Aren't I my body?

Me: *matter of factly* No. You are your soul. *remembering a quote from our similar religious upbringing* Remember, your body is a temple. It is just a building for you, for your soul.

Client: Hmmmm... interesting...

Okay... and with that conversation being shared, you can now see the irony in today's post.

What counts is what's inside...

Okay... I hear ya.

A Life Without Fear?

My friend, JulieAnn did a post inspired by her friend, Sister Mary Lisa. I felt inspired to do the same...

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Take him up on his propositions without making up silly excuses that are only lies to cover the fact that I am fat and afraid that it will ultimately turn him off. I would meet him at that hotel room or fly with him to Vegas or take a ride up the mountain with him for the sole and carnal purpose of getting our rocks off. I would, of course, not worry about heartbreak because, in a world without fear, there is no such thing as heartbreak. And I would know that I was able to be there with him in that moment and that, when that moment was over, I would go on as I have before. Nothing changed.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Stop editing my books and declare them finished. I would self-publish the autobiography. I would query on the 'tween fiction series. I would own them for the magnificent piece of works that they are and release them into the world. I would step into world-class-renowned-author and I would celebrate that victory every day.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Recognize my beauty. The beauty that is right here, right now in all of this curvaceous, soft, rounded-ness. I would look in the mirror and see only beauty. I would walk down the street and know that I am beautiful and that the whistle I just heard was actually for me, not her, even though I tried to convince her - and me - that it was only for her.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Step out from behind the walls that have protected me for so long. I would open my arms and welcome in love. I would kiss and touch and be kissed and touched. I would hold and be held. I would snuggle under the blankets and feel the warmth of passion beside me... male or female.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Kiss that woman I have been longing to kiss for over a year now. I would actually discover what it feels like to touch another woman's breast in a heated moment of passion. I would feel her hands on my body. I would come alive under her touch. I would shiver with the intensity.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Paint more often. Maybe even in the nude.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Do something about my money situation. I would stop sabotaging myself so that money would actually flow into me and I would get out of survival mode.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Continue to speak my feelings, only I would do it without flinching or apologizing.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Fly to Italy and have a sordid affair with an over-handsome Italian man who speaks broken English with the lilting rhythm of his native tongue and in the throes of passion, in the middle of mind-blowing, earth-shattering, life-altering sex, as I am rising to my climax, he will speak to me of things I do not understand in the lyrical Italian language - music to my ears.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Check out of society and drive cross country on a Harley. I would visit all the back-woods towns. I would eat in diners that have the best apple pie around and I would sleep out under the stars. Alone.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Launch into my speaking career - the career I have been avoiding not because I fear speaking in front of crowds but because I fear I am not enough, not good enough, not important enough, not accomplished enough. Yeah... those fears would be gone.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Tell my father's wife to be nicer to my father. I would tell her to let him pick out his own clothes and stop biting his head off every time he turns around.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Tell my Mom to stop talking to me about being in love with her love and actually do something about it. Then I would take my own advice.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Tell my father that he raised me well in the LDS religion and that it is not a reflection on him that I am no longer a member of the Church and that I appreciate his seemingly genuine kindness when I blew his dreams out of the water that day when I told him I was no longer a member. I would be able to do this because there would be no fears that, by doing so, I would be giving him hope that I would one day return to the Fold because I know that I will not.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Actually do something about purchasing that four bedroom, two bath bungalow cottage with hardwood floors, white flowing curtains, herborium and healing space.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Eat healthier and develop healthier living habits. This would result in me losing weight. Which would be awesome because there would be no fear that someone would actually desire me because I was magically desirable now. Or worse... that there would still be no one that desired me... even at my smaller weight. Yeah... I could really do without those fears.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Really divorce my former husband. Yeah, yeah. We are legally divorced and he is remarried. We are still, however, very intertwined. In a life without fear, I would not need that intertwine-ment.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Own the fact that I am a fanfuckingtastic healer and get my ass in gear, build my business and touch the lives of people that are waiting to be touched.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Dance every spare moment I've got. I would do it naked, even, and relish the feeling of my body parts swaying with the movements.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Forgive and forget. He married someone else. It was his choice. It is time to move on, already. Yep. I would forgive and forget. And, no, this is not my former husband of which I speak. This is someone even more devastatingly important to me. And... in a life without fear, I would be over this by now.

If I lived a life without fear... I would...
Be financially abundant, optimistic, co-creative, fulfilled, successful, joyful, artistic and complete. And, of course, I would laugh often.

And, apparently, my life is more full of fear than I previously cared to admit. I feel sad that I am holding myself back from my Self through this veil of fears. When I finished writing all this, I read through it and felt more and more oppressed. My shoulders hunched over and I couldn't breathe. I have such a tight grip on myself, because of fear, that I am strangling my self. And, in the face of these fears, I go forward day in and day out. The fears sit there and 24 hours tick by and well... they are still there.

Okay... I am thinking I was supposed to feel uplifted and inspired by this.

At this moment, that is so not my experience.

Oh... hello anger... imagine meeting you here...

Feedback

The party was amazing tonight! I felt grateful to be back amongst my friends... my crazy, crazy friends where anything is possible and anything goes. I have missed that energy in my life. Desperately. I felt happy to be able to cuddle and talk and laugh and touch and be... just be me. I didn't realize how much I missed the energy of that group until I walked in and found myself surrounded by it again.

I am grateful I went, even though I had misgivings about going alone. I am grateful, especially, that I went alone. Come to find out, almost everyone came alone and I was grateful that I did not have anyone that I needed to make sure they were "doing okay" in a crowd of strangers.

I am grateful I was there to witness with my eyes and ears all that is happening for my friends... one friend is flying out on Monday to spend two weeks with her son whom she adopted out 18 years ago. Another friend has just landed a monthly column in a local cool publication. Another couple of friends have gotten together since I last saw either of them - it is an amazing match. Another couple of friends chose this night to do an official "divorce" ceremony in front of us wherein they burned their marriage knot and consciously chose to leave the relationship in love. It was a breathtaking experience to watch a break-up go so... lovingly.

The friend who landed the column also realized she is completely in love with the man she has been with for several years. She had thought she wasn't... she had been all caught up in her stories of why he wasn't good enough for her and why he didn't love her enough. Suddenly, she discovered that it was simply that... her stories and now she has come to know that no matter what it takes, with him is where she wants to be. She said, "I realized that my soul is happy when I am with him."

Listening to her, I found myself longing to feel that. I wanted to have someone in my life whom I could say my soul feels happy when I am around them. I became aware that, after almost 10 years post divorce, I am really ready to welcome in love.

I have spent the bulk of 2007 getting to know myself and understand who I am. I have found my anger - by god! I have so found my anger - and I have come to discover that I can actually feel my anger and that is a good thing. I have learned that a lot of what I am carrying around with me in the form of over-excessive weight is my anger that I have held onto. And I feel sad about that.

The amazing thing is... everyone with whom I spent time one-on-one with tonight said these exact words to me, "Angie, wow! You look amazing!" One of my friends actually said, "I can see in you that you have changed so much. I look forward to watching the rest of your transformation and I feel that it is coming around the corner... it's next year! I can see that you have really stepped into who you are. You are beautiful, radiant, ready... you!"

I stepped in front of the mirror tonight, before removing my makeup and taking down my hair. I studied myself closely and let it all sink in.

I am ready!

Hilarious

A friend of mine just sent this video link to me... Given the subject content that the comedian addresses, I found it quite fitting for my life... Enjoy!

John Pinette Stand Up

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BUG!

I have caught a bug
It's one I hope will stay
It's a nice little bug
And I feel happy today
This little bug makes me move
It makes me hop and jump and dance
It makes me want to smile and laugh
Perhaps it will land me in France
If I had my druthers, though
To the shores of Italy I'd go
And climb the hills of my ancestry
Reclaim the magic that's mine, I know
This little bug wakes me up
It calls to my soul and shouts GO!
I move my body, I stretch my limbs
Then my pants sag and panties show
I like this little bug
I really hope she will stay
Because this little bug gets me movin'
The inches and pounds are melting away
Yep.
She's a good bug!

akm 8/30/07
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Sharing (3)

I have been gone for some time. Gone from the land wherein I am progressing toward beauty. I had given up that there was any hope for me to even progress toward beauty, let alone actually land in it. Beauty being my "ideal" weight.

I stopped looking at the numbers for a long time. And then, I stopped looking at myself. I just couldn't bear that I had let myself down, yet again, on this weight thing.

Then... awarenesses started eeking into my brain. And people started nudging and dropping hints about me, my physical form. It was all appropriately timed in moments when I felt safe and strong and open. I received all the awarenesses and nudges and hints with grace and appreciation.

Then, I was given the challenge to write a new script for myself.

"What would your life look like, Angie," one of my mentors asked, his partner nodding in agreement, "if you were living the life you want and if you looked like what you want? I think we are all going to be surprised when you write a new script for yourself. Can you commit to that?"

I nodded, feeling excited and scare and hopeful all at once. For the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful.

So, that very night, I began to write my new script. And, suddenly, I see what it means to "be the change you want to be in the world." My new script is already taking over with breathtaking clarity. I would like to share the part that of my script that has already begun. When I wrote it, I had not yet done what I wrote about, although I had gotten on the scales and they had blared the truth at me. The next morning, however, the words I had written the night before popped in my head and I tried it. I think it is important to note that the day I speak of was just Tuesday morning, August 21. This morning, just for fun, I got on the scale and it read 198.8 - a five pound loss!

~~~

The day I decided to take charge of my life and get real with what was, I stepped on the scale and weighed 203 pounds. That day, I loved myself at that weight. I looked at myself in the mirror, smiled and said, “I love you.” It was foreign at first and I felt really, really silly. So I kept doing it. I added appreciation to it, “I love you, Angie and appreciate you for your courage to take on this experience with fat.”

Then, even though I felt exceedingly ridiculous, I added appreciation to the fat, “I love you, Angie and appreciate you for your courage to take on this experience with fat. And, fat, I appreciate your willingness to carry my projections that it is your fault I’m not what I want, don’t have what I want and am not with who I want.”

I became aware that, as I let the other Me go, I felt sad, as though I was grieving the death of a dear loved one and I was surprised by this. That fat had been a part of me for almost half my life. I was used to having her around. She was a constant in an ever-changing world. My other Me was someone who would never let me down. She wouldn’t beat me up. She wouldn’t spit in my face. She wouldn’t call me names or look down her nose at me. She was there with me. Always. And, while she was not doing any of those things, she was also not serving me. She was just there, kind of quiet and not very interactive. But, still, she was a comfort, a presence that was always there....

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Sharing (2)

I amaze myself, sometimes.

I feel good today – so complete and in my body. It is important that I recognize these moments because I am becoming increasingly sensitive to the fact that I have made completeness difficult for myself.

I have intended that I become aware of my self-defeating thoughts which, for a long time, I was convinced I did not have. I am appreciating my ability to finally recognize – and change – my internal dialogue, which began with the realization that the name of this blog column needed to change. Upon recognizing these on-going thought patterns, I have followed through with replacing them with conscious thoughts of self-love, health, acceptance and beauty.

I am able to realize that my fully conscious thinking is working. I feel beautiful. I feel light. I feel free. Those three attributes combine in a delicious way. I feel delicious. And I appreciate all this most starkly in the first startling instant when I catch a reflection of myself as I pass before a mirror or reflective pane of windows.

I gasp at the sight there… Oh! What’s this? I’m not really tiny. I am still overweight.

I feel inside that I am beautiful, that I am healthy, and that I am at a more comfortable weight. I feel my body changing and clothes fitting differently. But, then I see my reflection. I am still… well… for lack of a better word… fat.

I am appreciating that my mind is reshaping who I am. I am appreciating the magical quality that belief lends to my life. I am appreciating the excellence I feel within and the rapid pace at which my mental, emotional and spiritual bodies got into alignment with my essence.

Now I am asking that my physical form speed up its progression and begin to look like I feel inside.

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Sharing (1)

I feel such relief after yesterdays blog. I was able to move with ease and I felt myself growing lighter by the moment.

Today, when I awoke and stepped out of bed, my feet did not hurt, my knees did not creek and I was able to walk to the bathroom without groaning. I took it as a good omen.

My journey through weight issues and into self-realization of beauty has opened my eyes to my own power.

And, today, I smile. I laugh. And I am appreciating who I am, in all my glory. I am appreciating my body for continuing on - no matter how I abuse it or neglect it. I am appreciating the lightness of being.

Most importantly, I am appreciating the intuitive nudge that reminded me that to move forward, I must release, let go and step in faith. In that energy is when I succeed. Sometimes I forget that. Well, actually, frequently I forget that. So I am appreciating that the reminder came quick and fairly pain free.

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Confession of the Fat Girl #11

When I originally started this blog, I chose the name “Confession of the Fat Girl” for a reason. A part of me needed to own the fact that I was F-A-T. In the past, I have found ways to make it sound prettier and have been able to look past the reality of my body. Thing is, I liked that reality better. Now, I actually feel fat.

A few months ago, I joined Curves and have really enjoyed the ability to move my body in that way almost every day. The day I signed up they weighed and measured me. The lady weighing me said the number quietly so that only I could hear it, but she might as well have shouted it because I heard it. My body heard it. Somehow I had so cleverly convinced my mind that I was around 150 pounds that when she told me I was at least 50 pounds heavier, I was confused.

The sad part of this is that within 24 hours, I suddenly felt every single one of those pounds. I suddenly felt… well… fat. Worse, I felt obese. I was in that state of mind when I began this blog. It seemed important to me at that time to own the obesity. I hate it now.

Wow. Where did that come from? I didn’t see that coming, at all. And I certainly didn’t suspect the venom that was dripping from it.

Sooooo… here’s the thing. For about a month now, I have been hyper-aware of my body. I have discovered that no matter how much water I drink, no matter how healthy I eat, no matter how much I exercise, nothing is happening. I have decided that it is time to change my focus. See, back then before I began feeling obese, people were actually seeing me as slender. I was feeling slender. The world was seeing me slender. I was believing my way to slender.

I have had several people mention that the title of this blog column is too harsh. Even before anyone said anything, though, I had begun exploring the energy of the title. I am now aware that, for me, my body image is going to have to begin from the inside out. I need to emotionally, mentally and verbally support myself into the size I desire. It requires me changing the way I think about myself. It also requires me to stop monitoring my weight and inches so that I stop focusing on the size of who I physically am right now. And to focus, instead, on allowing space for my body to evolve into the shape and size of whom I am supposed to be.

Therefore, I am packing up my measuring tape and my scales. They are getting put away for one month. During that time, I will continue to eat healthy, drink lots of water and exercise at least four times weekly, more if possible. I will begin again to use the subliminal weight loss cd during meditation. I stopped doing that at the same time I joined Curves.

Also, the name of my column is changing. Instead of confessing, I am going to be sharing. And I am going to call it, “Progression into Beauty.”

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Confession of the Fat Girl #10

I decided that the best way to start my day today would be to go try on swimsuits. Yeah. Right.

It has been an adventure this week, my attempt to find a suit. I am going to Lava Hot Springs tomorrow with a newfound friend, her daughter and mine. It is meant to be a bonding experience, wherein we discover one another and form a lifelong friendship. I am a nervous wreck. Mostly because it is going to require me to do one of my least favorite things – don a swimsuit.

This morning, it was my third store in the search. The first one had no suits at all, even though it is winterish outside and seems to be the time that stores do carry suits. The second one had two racks of suits in these hideous prints of glow-in-the-dark-colored flowers as large as my hand. Amongst the gore, I found two simple sets – one solid black, one navy blue with white accents. Dismayed by the selection and wondering why the designers think that big girls want big flower prints to accentuate their size, I trudged to the dressing room for more fun.

I felt like a sausage once I wriggled myself into the binding suits that were the biggest size in those styles and I felt my spirits crash. There was no way in hell I was going to go a bigger size in that store because it would mean splattering my body with atrocious flowers. No way!

So, this morning, I tried another store. I walked the entire women’s department and about started crying when I began believing they didn’t have swimwear either. Then I found them. It looked to be the end of the season for this store as all suits – women’s, plus sizes and juniors – were crammed onto one wall. I had to really search through the racks to find my sizes and also to find both parts of most two-piece suits. I felt a little optimistic though, as I walked to the dressing room with seven different styles to try in my size.

The one I really wanted was a rich royal blue one-piece that was as elegant as an evening gown in the way it was created. I could have made this one work, if I had not breathed while wearing it. I wanted the next size up because it would have been just right. So back to the rack I went. Sadly enough, there was none bigger than the one I had in my hand. So I stood there debating between feeling elegant while holding my breath indefinitely or feeling more comfortable in the black and silver sporty two-piece that also worked. I ended up with the black and silver number which actually looked fairly decent if I could have stopped being so critical.

So here is the really good part of my story…

As I was rummaging through the racks one last time I was acutely aware of how hot I was and that I wanted to strip down to my nothings. I also became aware of the quiet thoughts rampaging through my mind. Sadness. Disgust. Dismay.

At that same moment, I could feel someone’s eyes trained on me. I looked up and to the right to find a man standing dead still in the aisle, somewhat in a trance. When he realized I had caught him, he flinched and smiled embarrassedly before turning this way and that, trying to decide where to turn and where to hide.

I smiled, amused by his little dance number of dismay and confusion. He caught my smile and approached tentatively.

“Excuse me, Miss,” he said, holding his right hand out to me, palm down.

Interestingly enough, I noticed my defenses fly up and I actually took a step back.

Timidly he asked, “I don’t mean any disrespect, Miss, but may I ask you a question?”

He seemed harmless and I could feel his nervousness radiating through the space between me and his outstretched hand. He pulled it in and placed it over his heart.

I smiled and nodded.

He smiled shyly. “Do you believe that beauty is in the eye of the beholder?”

I let his words sink in for a moment before I smiled. “Yes, I do.”

He smiled and nodded once. “I want to tell you that you are most beautiful.”

The energy of his words sank into my body and I felt the temperature of my entire being rise considerably. I felt as though I was in a full-body flush. It was an odd combination of shock, nervousness, embarrassment and something really yummy.

He held his right hand out again, palm facing me, fingers spread and stretching toward the sky. I sensed that he could feel my nervousness. “I mean no disrespect, Miss.”

I smiled because the deliciousness of his words was finally sinking into me.

He finished, “Earlier I was watching you and was so taken with your beauty. I actually had to come back to make sure you were real. You totally brightened up my day. And I just had to tell you.”

Then he smiled, bowed slightly in a gesture of respect and said, “Thank you.”

He left me, speechless, blushing and with tears in my eyes.

In my own moment of personal struggle, uncertainty and sadness, a stranger opened his heart and changed my outlook for the day.

Indeed, trying on swimsuits was the best way to start my day today.

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Confessions of the Fat Girl #9

Word of the day: CORPULENT

I did not even know this word existed. I assume I have heard it. I assume that people use it, perhaps even on a daily basis. I, however, was completely unaware of it. Until today, while I was helping my nine year old daughter practice her spelling/vocabulary list on the way to school.

“Corpulent…” I said, pausing. “Corpulent? What does that mean?”

I could hear the smile in her voice. I could almost hear her thoughts. “It means fat.”

“Aaahh!” I exclaimed. “Really?”

“Yes, Mom. Really.”

“Oh.” I shrugged and grinned from the driver’s seat. “Well then, today I am feeling corpulent.”

“Yeah…” she mumbled. “I thought you would say something like that.”

She knows me well and gets really disgusted when I announce that I am fat. She is quick to reassure me that I am not fat and that I am “just right.” God love her for it. Truly. However, I judge that “just right” is still way too fat.

It sucks that my journey through weight issues and into resolution shows up even in my daughter’s vocabulary lists.

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Confessions of the Fat Girl #8

When I first decided to get healthy and rid myself of this excess person I carry around with me on a daily basis, I wanted to do it in secret. Then, I realized, I have always done it secretly and didn’t get very far at that.

If you want different results, do it differently.

Thus, this public blog that blares my truths to the world.

Thing is, I want to hide when the going gets tough. I want to be able to tell you every single moment of every single day that I am on top of things. I want to be able to write that I am losing and losing and losing.

Such is not the case.

So, then I thought, I could just not tell you when I lose my cool or lose my mind or lose my gumption or gain back all that I have lost. I could just write when everything is wonderful and working like I had hoped.

But that would not be very truthful now, would it?

Staying in the game with this has been, in all honesty, not that fun and, actually, quite difficult. Call it what you want: work, play, goals, games, whatever. It doesn’t matter what you call your battle with the bulge, it is difficult if you are battling a bulge that is bigger than, say, five pounds. And, perhaps, if your bulge is five pounds, then you may be able to relate to the difficulties involved with getting rid of it. I hear that the last five pounds are the most difficult.

Damn. If only I could have that kind of difficulty right now!

A few things I have discovered about myself since I consciously chose to get healthy and get rid of the excess weight:

     -   My weight swings like a pendulum from day to day
     -   I can lose almost a pound in an hour
     -   I can gain seven pounds in a day
     -   If I “lose it” (mind or gumption), the results are disastrous
     -   I really do lose (and gain) inches faster than pounds
     -   Avoiding food after 7:00 pm is a struggle

Results since last report:
Pounds: 1.2 gain
Inches: 3 5/8 inch gain

Yes, well… onward and upward. Or, wait! Maybe that is onward and downward! I guess that depends on how I choose to look at this.

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