Warrior Soccer Training

The rain was as steady as my inquisition.

 
The sky was gray, cooperatively depicting the complexities of the impending question that plagued me on my drive home from Baltimore one rainy afternoon this week.

 

It’s not the first time this question was posed.

 

But, it’s the first time I chose to dig into it.

 

As I asked myself questions, probing and searching for answers, I could feel the fear starting from the center of my body, and extending outward.

 

It wasn’t just cerebral.

 

It was in my bones.

 

I argued with my fear.

 

I was aware of it’s convictions – cemented and firm.

 

I was aware of it’s impact – with each belief, I could feel myself shutting down in agreement.

 

The only difference between this day and others, is that I was aware. And curious.

 

I wanted to engage with my fear.

 

And as it turns out, she was no longer in her infancy.

 

My fear had bulging biceps and six pack abs.

 

She’d been increasing muscle mass for nearly three decades, taking little pieces of life and experiences relating to rejection and abandonment and adding them to her protein shakes.

 

I have just really started this conversation with fear.

 

It’s deep, and complex, and probably just too much to share, especially when there’s so much healing that needs to be done.

 

Furthermore, there’s a tremendous amount of psychology involved, and I’m not a trained professional, so if I were to start talking about things like “attachment” and “trauma bonds,” and “narcissistic abuse,” anyone reading may wonder what in the Sam hell I’m talking about.

 

But perhaps you already are, considering I’ve personified my fear and I have boxing matches with her.

 

So, here’s where I’m going to take a turn and talk about a bigger theme : the storm inside of us.

 

We all have one.

 

A fear.

 

A wound.

 

Something we wrestle with.

 

Something that affects our decisions, or guides our lives in ways that we may not want.

 

Something we’d like to overcome or get past.

 

And as I began to ask my fear questions, here’s what I realized.

 

Fears, are sometimes rational.

 

They were born with legitimacy.

 

They served as a means of protection.

 

They provided evidence that their existence was factual.

 

And as a result we create these narratives –

 

Narratives based off of what we’ve experienced.

 

This is how it was, so this is how it will probably be.

 

We can’t see outside of the experience.

 

We don’t allow ourselves to believe it could be any different.

 

And if we do, we are paralyzed by the idea, because of the anxiety that would ensue if we were to have these things that seem “too good to be true,” while we were just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

But what if our narratives aren’t really ours?

 

What if they’re generational stories that have been handed down to us, instead of written by us.

 

What if they’re perceptions based off of the things that wounded us, rather than longings from the things that are embedded in our hearts?

 

What if they really are just constructs of our own fears, contradicting the truth of what God has in store for us.

 

Then we realize –

 

We have the power to write our own stories.

 

Suddenly we see, that this beast of a woman called fear, can get her ass kicked by something stronger – personal power.

 

We forget.

 

Everything we need to thrive, in every area of our lives is already inside of us.

 

And every day, we have a decision as to whether we’re going to employ the characteristics that give us power, or that cause us pain.

 

So, I guess the invitation for all of us is, what are those fears in your life?

 

The really big ones.

 

The ones that dictate your decisions, and cause you to shut down.

 

The ones that have written the story, that prevent you from pursuing things you want because no matter the path, it always seems to play out the same way in your mind.

 

Can you challenge those things?

 

Can you ask it questions?

 

Can you investigate why it’s there, and where it was born from?

 

And then maybe, can you empathize with it, knowing that it was never there to harm you, but to protect you, and now – it no longer serves you.

 

Then – pick up the pen and find the courage to start writing how you would like the story to go, with faith, and belief that you are worthy and deserving.

 

Not because you are unique, but because you’re not.

 

You’re human.

 

A child of God.

 

And we’re all worthy and deserving of the things our hearts long for.

It was almost twelve years ago that I first sat in a church basement and saw the words “Live and Let Live”  on a white cement block wall.

 

I rolled my eyes.

 

“Yeah, ok. What does that even mean?”

 

A slogan that went against every fiber of my self-willed run riot lifestyle.

 

Yet, there I was – life was unmanageable, and it turned out my will wasn’t running the show all that well.

 

Over a decade later, during this holiday season, when I think of what I’m grateful for, these are the words that come to mind.

 

“Live and Let Live.”

 

What does that mean to me today?

 

Freedom.

 

The freedom to live.

 

Let go.

 

Make mistakes.

 

Take risks.

 

Sustain rejection.

 

Give and receive love.

 

Be who I am.

 

Let others be who they are.

 

Survive loss.

 

Dream and take action.

 

“Live and Let Live,” to me, expresses the reality that life is unpredictable.

 

And complex.

 

And so are we.

 

It means that most of life is outside the lines.

 

Undefinable.

 

That timing is always perfect.

 

And that there are no mistakes, only learning.

 

It means that there are times that what was right for us then, isn’t right for us today.

 

And it means authenticity is a journey.

 

It doesn’t just happen.

 

It happens with rigorous honesty.

 

With courageous experimentation.

 

With an unwavering commitment to courage.

 

And with practice.

 

It happens step by step,

 

with deliberate intention and readiness.

 

And when we aren’t ready,

 

We shouldn’t demand that we be ready.

 

Because with each step, we find crumbs along the way that prepare us for readiness.

 

Crumbs of strength

 

Validation

 

Healing

 

Pieces of ourselves, that whisper, you are whole, you are enough, you are worthy.

 

From another perspective, authenticity also doesn’t mean that we have to tell everyone our deepest darkest secrets at every turn, because we fear that if we don’t, we may be fraudulent.

 

“Live and Let Live,” still invites boundaries.

 

It also invites mercy and forgiveness – for myself and others, because at the end of the day aren’t we all just doing the best we can?

 

“Live and Let Live,” means that everything doesn’t have to mean something.

 

That sometimes there’s a difference between behavior and identity.

 

Because I did this, does not mean I am this.

 

When we “Live and Let Live,” we have to accept that part of the human experience is to feel.

 

And for some of us, that means a lot.

 

And deeply.

 

And that’s more than ok.

 

We can learn to manage those feelings –

 

The pleasant ones, are a gift.

 

But so are the painful ones, because they lay the foundation for transformation.

 

And lastly, “Live and Let Live,” means having goals, and desires and a life vision,
but not being so rigid, nor so arrogant, that I believe that my vision is superior to God’s.

 

Sometimes, God grants us with opportunities outside of our vision, because He is greater, and the plan is greater.

 

Life isn’t meant to be tamed and mastered.

 

We are.

 

We cannot control the universe, only ourselves.

 

So this year, I’m grateful for that stupid little slogan that planted seeds which took root in my heart all those years ago.

When I was 22, I was given an assignment.

 

“I want you to write about why you’re afraid of success.”

 

“Afraid of success?” I asked.

 

“You mean afraid of failure?”

 

“Are you afraid of failure or success?” he asked.

 

“That’s where I’m confused,” I said.

 

“It feels like both. How can I be afraid of both?”

 

I tried to write on that subject.

 

I came up with theories, and answers that sounded appropriate, but nothing ever felt like I was unlocking the door to truth.

 

Ten years later, and I think I can write that paper.

 

It was neither “success” nor “failure” that I feared – it was rejection.

 

And whether it’s “success” or “failure,” rejection can ensue.

 

Not from the right people.

 

Or the real people.

 

Or the people who unconditionally love you.

 

But it’s likely to be there in some form, from someone.

 

And we all don’t fear rejection in the same way, do we?

 

Some people may fear rejection in social circles.

 

Some in matters of relationship.

 

Some in their professional lives.

 

But usually, something is tied to that.

 

Your identity.

 

Your worthiness.

 

Your sense of belonging.

 

Your own self-image.

 

The truth is, rejection in every capacity – minor and major, is just a part of life.

 

And the even greater reality is, we have control over how we perceive rejection.

 

Just don’t.

 

In any situation, just don’t take it personally.

 

Ask if there’s a way you can use it to better yourself.

 

Because fearing rejection doesn’t serve us.

 

It keeps us small.

 

This week, the teacher of my cycle class –  someone whom I admire and respect, said:

 

“What are you saving it for? Use it. Don’t walk out of here with more left to give.”

 

Isn’t that life?

 

What are we saving it for?

 

Our gifts?

 

Our talents?

 

Our voices?

 

Our thoughts?

 

Our ideas?

 

Liz Gilbert once said, the older she gets the less she cares about originality and the more she cares about authenticity.

 

Only you, can be, do, say, share, love, create, in the way that you are. No one else. And the world needs every unique interpretation and contribution.

 

If we are to test ourselves –

 

Go after our dreams –

 

Face up to our biggest fears –

 

Live up to our potential –

 

Make a difference in the world –

 

We will have to continuously, deliberately and willingly step into discomfort.

 

Risk rejection.

 

Any athlete knows this with progress.

 

Improvement only comes when we find our edge, and push against until we push through it.

This afternoon, I saw another “on this day” memory on Facebook, showing me where I was and what I was doing this time last year in Australia.

 

I’ve been getting all kinds of fun memories, and today, as I sit in a Starbuck in Annapolis in between sessions of Preseason at Navy, I can’t help but think about how much has changed in a year.

 

Time is funny like that.

 

Five years can pass, and it seems like yesterday.

 

One year can pass, and it feels like an eternity.

 

You realize that you shed a few skins…

 

You find yourself amazed at how much has changed…

 

Both internally and externally.

 

Maybe change has a way of warping time?

 

I remembered a podcast I listened to recently about energy.

 

Did energy have something to do with all the change in my life?

 

Or maybe all the change in my life had something to do with the energy…

 

I knew for sure that there was a shift in my inner life this year.

 

I knew that I was committed to having boundaries when it came to the energy I allowed, and the energy I welcomed.

 

I was all done with anything toxic. Whether it be in relationship, in friendship, in thinking – I would choose self-loyalty and self-preservation – I would decide to encourage and root for myself as I did for others.

 

I would stop fighting myself, and that meant making decisions that would serve me well, not bring things into my life that would serve as life distractions and feel like hindrances to becoming all of who I’m supposed to be.

 

I had learned from experience, that energy is critical to the way life unfolds, and the quality of life that I experience.

 

I returned to the podcast, and found the part that resonated most with me:

 

       “You are responsible for the energy that you bring.

       You are also responsible for the energy that you allow to be brought to you.

      And so, it’s just a choice about how you want to live your life.

      All of the negative, dark, irresponsible energy that comes around you, blocks you from

      moving forward in your life.

      Life is always about energy – it’s about clearing your energy space.”

      Oprah continues, “I say it’s like having mud in your wings.

      There are a lot of people who have people in their lives who bring mud into their lives

      and who are not creating a space for clearing them.

      And if you’re surrounded by people who put mud in your wings, who bring you bad

      energy, until you clear that out, you will not be able to live the fullest, highest creation

      of yourself.

      That’s just the truth.

      But it’s a process of seeing it for what it is, and beginning to distance yourself, however

      you can, from that situation.

      In many cases it means divorcing yourself from the relationships that are toxic to you.

      And unless you’re willing to do that, then you don’t grow forward.

      You don’t.

      You just don’t,” (Oprah’s Supersoul Conversations, The Best Relationship Advice).

     

 

So, the questions for all of us are,

 

What kind of energy do you bring?

 

And here’s the thing, I do believe that some of that is a choice, but energy comes from who you are. Sometimes, you can’t “fake it till you make it.” People feel the truth of who you are. Energy is a byproduct of the work you’ve done on yourself internally.

 

What kind of energy do you allow?

 

Is there toxicity in your life, and where? What do you need to divorce yourself from?

 

Is there mud in your wings and why?

 

It’s time to fly, so figure that out.

 

Listen, we have limited time.

 

Limited energy.

 

There’s only so much we can focus on,

 

Only so much that we can give our hearts, our minds, and our bodies to.

 

In order for you to reach your potential, and for me to reach mine, we have to be good stewards of the gifts we’ve been given and the way in which we use them.

 

This whole “energy” thing sounds pretty self-centered, but if we look at the big picture, it’s just the opposite.

 

When we surround ourselves with good energy –

 

When we’ve done the work and we are a source of good energy –

 

We impact others, and we’re free to serve, and shine brightly in the way that God created us to shine.

 

We’re free to fly.

 

So, energy.

 

Maybe it’s pretty important.

 

Think about it.

A few weeks ago, I sat with a man who can only be compared to as Yoda, and he asked me questions I didn’t want to answer.

 

My Yoda, is a man named Dr. Joe.

 

I first started meeting with Dr. Joe, in preparation for preseason about two years ago. My aim was to be as mentally prepared as possible for what I was about to experience – pressure, performance, and a highly competitive environment.

 

The thing I thought was the icing on the cake – getting to sit down and talk with a man who had a clinical practice for many years (with a partner who survived Auschwitz), and later moved into sports psychology to work with a team in the NFL – was the real gift.

 

Consistent with the theme in my life – this divine connection had nothing to do with soccer, and everything to do with personal growth and relationship.

 

Yoda, aka Dr. Joe, has impacted me in more ways that I can list.

 

But, let’s talk about this particular conversation.

 

Dr. Joe leaned in and asked, “The question is, do you want to dance with somebody?”

 

What? What happened to visualization, and positive self-talk? Why are we going here?

 

At first, I thought of Whitney Houston’s rendition quietly.

 

Amused, and I’m sure, invoking a coping mechanism to ease my anxiety about the question.

 

Then I thought, “like a Salsa Rueda, where you switch partners every so often?”

 

I could have probably gone on like this quietly for a while…

 

…still coping – still hiding – still avoiding the question.

 

I knew Dr. Joe was talking about the long haul.

 

The C word. …Freakin’ commitment.

 

These conversations, I thought, started to feel like they should warrant a stiff drink, but I don’t have that luxury.

 

…Suddenly, I was regretting not working out longer prior to this conversation. …Maybe exhaustion would have helped.

 

But after the humor subsided, and the truth broke through, I decided to get real.

 

After all, Yoda seemed to possess something akin to MIT’s sonar technology – he was able to see through me the way MIT’s technology sees through walls.

 

“Yes,” I said. “…well….I think.”

 

I started to get emotional.

 

“I don’t like this topic. There’s so much wrapped up in it.”

 

He asked more questions..

 

I talked about why.

 

And why not.

 

He asked questions about belief systems.

 

And I had massive revelations about the beliefs that I attached to love, marriage, commitment –

 

Beliefs that have never been challenged or changed from the age of 12.

 

Beliefs that were born from a divorce, not from what I believe to be true.

 

They seemed too bad to say out loud.

 

And I was finding myself confused.

 

I also maintained a set of beliefs in adulthood rooted in Christianity and all kinds of spiritual practices.

 

The first felt personal, and the later felt like a desperate attempt to believe in something I wasn’t sure existed.

 

Or maybe something I thought was rare – and definitely far too rare for me to have.

 

It was like winning the lottery, and my chances weren’t good.

 

So, I sat there wondering…which set of beliefs did I really believe?

 

It seemed my beliefs from childhood were the ones guiding my decisions.

 

When I thought about it, and was honest, I said I believed in unconditional love.

 

But did I really believe it? ….And did I believe I was worthy of it?

 

I had certainly sought out every person I could find that would prove to me that unconditional love was indeed not true.

 

I said I believed that marriage was good.

 

But did I really believe it?

 

I said it’s amazing when people share decades together.

 

But did I really believe it?

 

And could I believe they were actually happy and connected throughout those years?

 

…So many people seemed miserable.

 

I said all these things…

 

I said I believed in loyalty, and commitment – but when I looked at my decisions, fear was the thing that ran my life. It certainly wasn’t faith.

 

I once read a quote, (I’m paraphrasing), that was something of the likes of “what you do comes from who you believe you are.”

 

And I had adopted all kinds of things about marriage and commitment and love and attached them to who I am, and it’s just not true.

 

We do this.

 

There are many opportunities in adulthood to challenge what we have accepted as truth.

 

Do we take these opportunities?

 

Do we ask the hard questions?

 

And listen to the truth?

 

And seek to understand?

 

We are not always simple.

 

There are parts of ourselves –

 

Parts of ourselves that are injured and in need of healing. Maybe they’re frozen in time –

 

Parts that are healthy and aware.

 

Parts that remain unconscious.

 

And throughout our lives, there are people who will place labels on us.

 

They’ll tell us who we are, sometimes before it’s even proven true.

 

They’ll make verbal judgments.

 

They’ll place us in boxes.

 

And we participate.

 

Either by accepting these labels, judgements, or tiny spaces, or by being the culprits ourselves.

 

But they’re not always accurate.

 

Guys, the truth is, I would never prefer a salsa rueda over one dance, with one person. I’m loyal to a fault.

 

That’s what’s scary – when I’m in, I’m in. But how can I trust that you are too?

 

So many areas of my life illustrate that I believe in loyalty, trust, honesty, commitment –

 

….But here, in this area of my life I think it’s a great idea to stay non-committal to avoid risk?

 

All the sudden, I have just realized how dumb this is.

 

And how inconsistent it is with who I really am.

 

Dr. Joe has a way of bridging these things –

 

Of showing me what I believe on the field –

 

What I preach to players –

 

And then saying “don’t change the rules.”

 

So when I say, “Take risks, give everything you have, it’s the process not the result, regardless of the outcome there are always lessons, it’s about your growth as a person and a player, rigorous personal honesty is required….”

 

I shouldn’t change the rules.

 

Why should it be any different when it comes to love, life and commitment?

 

Listen, maybe this doesn’t relate to you at all.

 

Or maybe it does.

 

I think it will always be uncomfortable, to write about things that are so deeply personal to me, but I can’t not do it.

 

And I still don’t know why – but I just do it. I don’t resist – I just listen, write and share.

 

Perhaps it’s the years of talking about my feelings in a room full of other people in recovery – something about being honest with others, and that whole accountability thing.

 

But the universal message – the thing I think we can all ask –

 

Is what do you believe?

 

Not, what do you say you believe.

 

What do you really believe?

 

What do your decisions reflect?

 

Maybe ask, where these beliefs were born, and why you maintain them, and if they’re consistent with who you are and what you want.

 

It’s been weeks since I left this conversation with Dr. Joe.

 

And I haven’t stopped thinking about these things.

 

It’s frightening. It’s difficult. Sometimes it brings sadness and grief, and others it brings insights and clarity.

 

I don’t like that my answer is “Yes, Dr. Joe. I want to dance with somebody.”

 

“….I wanna feel the heat with somebody…”

 

Just kidding. Shit got real again – Enter, Whitney.

 

…..

 

Perhaps we never actually figure things out.

 

But I think it’s about our attempt –

 

To know ourselves.

 

To understand.

 

To consistently try to be better, more honest, and more confident in who we are, what we believe, and how we’re living.

So, I mentioned in my last blog Brene Brown’s, “The Call To Courage” special.

 

I’ve been reading her stuff for years.

 
And I’m the first to admit – conceptualizing her work and practicing her ideologies are two very different things.

 

It may have been five or six years ago that I first picked up one of her books…

 
It may have been four years ago that I first took her Online E-Course on the The gifts of Imperfection.

 
And I’m certain that for five years her quote “You’re imperfect and you’re wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging,” has either been on my fridge, on a mirror, in my bible, or on my nightstand.

 

And here’s the thing guys.

 
I’m revisiting some of her work, reading and going “ohhhhhhhh” … “Oh. Ok.”

 
Probably a year from now, or two years from now, I’ll look back at the same work, and think, “yep, still didn’t get it.”

 
We know something before we know it, don’t we.

 
…It speaks to us.

 
…It resonates.

 
…We know it’s true.

 
But sometimes it takes a while for our hearts to catch up to our brains.

 
Sometimes, it takes experience and then retrospect, and then maybe trying again and again and again, for us to really practice something.

 
And it’s hard.

 
It’s deliberate.

 
It’s conscious intention.

 
It’s failing, and owning that failure and doing something different next time.

 
I needed to share about my sobriety, because the same process I went through when deciding to remove alcohol from my life, is the same process I’m sometimes faced with in other areas of my life at varying levels.

 
I didn’t just decide to quit drinking.

 
I kept trying the same insanity over and over.

 
Giving myself new rules, and stipulations to try to control something I had zero control over – a feeling I didn’t like.

 
I went through denial, and anger, and fear.

 
I said I wouldn’t drink, and then I was the first one to take a shot 10 minutes later.

 

It was a personal process.

 

It was denial and justification –

 

It was saying “This is what kids do in college, I’m fine.”

 

And then thinking “But what if I can’t stop this after college?”

 

It was the willingness to pray, followed by overwhelming spiritual defiance.

 

I started going to church on Sunday’s – still drunk.

 

I wore a W.W.J.D wristband on the same hand that I poured endless shots with.

 

My mother’s personal ringtone was “They Tried to Make Me Go To Rehab,” by Amy Winehouse.

 

I thought it was amusing.

 

So did Amy Winehouse –

 

…look how that turned out.

 

But, I fought before I surrendered.

 

And I had an unbelievably high bottom, thank God.

 

I also remember when I got sober, feeling like a freak because Friday night would come, and bottles would start opening downstairs among my team mates, and I would have a decision to make – drink again, or go to a meeting.

 

Participate in drinking games, with good music…

 

….or go sit with a group of people I didn’t know, who I wanted to believe I was different than, and talk about my feelings.

 

At that time in my life, I would have rather had open heart surgery. (Well, mainly for the meds at the end, but back to sobriety).

 

The point I’m making is, authenticity, in my mind, is doing what’s right for you.

 

Not what’s easy.

 

Not what makes you cool.

 

Not what makes you “part of.”

 

Not what speaks to your ego.

 

Did I feel left out at times? Sure.

 

Did I feel like I was missing out at times? Absolutely.

 

But what I knew was that partying for some of my friends may have been just as lighthearted and frivolous as it’s supposed to be. It’s college – go crazy, make bad decisions, be a kid.

 

But for me, something else was going on, and that’s not what it was about.

 

This was the first time in my life I would know peace.

 

The thing that comes when you do what’s right, not what’s easy.

 

That thing that comes when you listen to what your life is asking you to do.

 

And sometimes when we do that, we lose friends, but never the ones who really have our backs.

 

My two college besties stayed my besties. And they encouraged me, and loved me through it.

 

And I gained a new tribe.

 

A tribe that I never would have asked for or wanted, but that I ended up being grateful for and loving.

 

A tribe I probably would have judged, but who proved to me that the age old saying “never judge a book by its cover” is timeless and true for good reason.

 

A tribe that called me on my shit, and showed up in my life when the crap hit the fan.

 

I’m remembering this right now, because I need to.

 

I find myself in a similar place.

 

One of the takeaways for me from that Netflix special was when Brene Brown talks about how “fitting in” is actually a hindrance to belonging.

 

She said: “True belonging doesn’t require that you change who you are; it requires you to be who are you.”

 

She also wrote: “True belonging is not passive. It’s not the belonging that comes with just joining a group. It’s not fitting in or pretending or selling out because it’s safer. It’s a practice that requires us to be vulnerable, get uncomfortable, and learn how to be present with people without sacrificing who we are.”

 

Like you, I want belonging.

 

We all want belonging, and if we say we don’t, I think we’re just too proud to admit it, too foolish and delusional in our self reliance, or too scared of rejection.

 

The question comes back to the difference between fitting in and belonging.

 

I don’t want to fit in.

 

I’ve never wanted to fit in.

 

It’s a cheap substitute.

 
And life is full of all sorts of cheap substitutes that we settle for, because we’re too desperate for something, too unwilling to wait for the real thing, too fearful that may never get the thing that we want – I’m unsure – there’s probably a multitude of reasons. Maybe we’re afraid to stand alone, or we care too much about how things look, or what people will say…

 

But I think the questions, for me –

 

When getting sober –

 

When choosing any kind of discipline –

 

When leaving a relationship-

 

Or maybe entering one –

 

When making decisions about what I do, where I go, who I surround myself with –

 

Is what is it that you want?

 

What do you want the most?

 

What do you want so bad, that you’re willing to sacrifice these other things that you also may want?

 

What are you willing to temporarily forego – even if it’s tempting – even if you kinda wanna – because you want the real thing more?

 

What brings you peace?

 

….What really matters to you?

 

Because these questions are incredibly personal.

 

With varying levels of depth.

My birthday’s this week.

 
Somewhere between 27 and now, I stopped liking birthday’s.

 
I started associating birthday’s with pressure.

 
We do that, don’t we?

 
We form expectations.

 
We give ourselves timelines.

 
And then we find another reason to beat ourselves up, when we fall short.

 
And here’s the thing.

 
Our expectations, are usually external….which isn’t at all what I want my life to be about.

 
That’s not who I want to be.

 
Our expectations are also seldom mediocre.

 
I remember in early recovery making an “ideals” list for a partner, and my sponsor saying “Jesus….good luck finding this person!”

 
It was like a page and a half.

 
Not kidding.

 
It’s gotten a little better, but I’m aware that I need to chill.

 
And it’s not like I’m under any illusion that I’m perfect. It’s gotta be some sort of self protection.

 
Most the time I can’t find my keys, I leave all the cabinets open, I put the toilet paper on backward, my closets are frightening (I get way too attached to everything), and I usually open something before the same exact thing in the fridge is finished. I’m forgetful, easily distracted, and I have a little of what I like to call creative chaos. Some call it mess. I like “creative chaos” better.

 
And these are my surface flaws.

 
I’m flawed. In every way.

 
…just like you.

 
I also have a lot a good stuff.

 
…just like you.

 
The funny thing about these lists is the people I’ve loved – some of the reasons I’ve loved them can’t be named.

 
It’s not always the things that make them right. It’s usually the things that make them, them.

 
But in every way, we have these lists.

 
These lists of ideals.

 
These lists of perfection.

 
We expect to have the world by the balls by 30, having manifested all of our greatest desires, dreams and hopes.

 
But if we’re honest – if we seek within ourselves, we know that we are exactly where we’re supposed to be, like it or not.

 
We know that life unfolds according to what we’re ready for.

 
According to the lessons we need to learn.

 

According to the decisions that we’re capable of making.

 
According to God’s will.

 
Expectations and the timelines and pressure….it’s all really just bull shit.

 
And ideals – yes, I still have them, but they change as I change.

 
Oddly enough, “great hair” isn’t in my top five for ideals in a partner. (It’s still in there, but like at the bottom – as an added bonus request to God. Don’t judge me).

 
Somehow, kind, considerate, generous, respectful, loyal, honest, faithful, authentic, good communicator (willing to have hard conversations), supportive, shared sense of humor, consistent and unconditionally loving, deep connection with God, willingness to own their side of the street too – these are the things that have worked their way to the top. (I keep adding ideals as I edit – see…).

 
So 32, isn’t going to be about pressure.

 
When I think about what I want for 32, a lot goes through my mind, and in many different areas of my life.

 
There’s no shortage in my list of goals this year.

 
But the most important things to me, are in regards to who I’m becoming.

 
When faced with decisions, what are my motives?

 
Is this who I want to be?

 
Is this what I want to be part of?

 
Is this who I am?

 
If the answer is no, nothing else matters.

 
Because I know by now, if it goes against who I am, who I want to be, and what I want to be a part of, I’m in trouble.

 
So, I’m gonna get all Brene on you to close. (Her new Netflix special The Call to Courage was amazing, as to be expected).

 
I’m going to use her Manifesto of the Broken Hearted as my manifesto –

 

“There is no greater threat to the critics
and the cynics and the fearmongers
Than those of us who are willing to fall
Because we have learned how to rise.
With skinned knees and bruised hearts;
We choose owning our stories of struggle,
Over hiding, over hustling, over pretending.
When we deny our stories, they define us.
When we run from struggle, we are never free.
So, we turn toward truth and look it in the eye.
We will not be characters in our stories.
Not villains, not victims, not even heroes.
We are authors of our lives.
We write our own daring endings.
We craft love from heartbreak.
Compassion from shame.
Grace from disappointment.
Courage from failure.
Showing up is our power.
Story is our way home. Truth is our song.
We are the brave and brokenhearted.
We are rising strong.”

 

My eyes opened. I lay there for a minute – slightly nauseous and still exhausted. I could still smell alcohol – on my skin, in my hair, on my breath. I sat straight up in my bed, turned to my right and looked at my reflection in the square mirror that hung above my dresser.

 
It was a poignant moment in my life.

 
Clear –

 

Almost out of body.

 
As if time slowed down.

 
I saw the mascara down my face, my tangled hair and my empty eyes.

 

But I saw deeper.

 

I saw me.

 

A moment of clarity.

 

The words rolled out of my mouth, without conscious thought or awareness.

 

“What are you doing to yourself?”

 

Again, I felt these words escape my breath, as if to come from a place beyond my own understanding.

 

“….What are you doing to yourself?”

 

It was January of 2008.

 

I was a junior at Penn Sate – 20 years old, and realizing that I wasn’t quite like the girl next door or across the hall, or downstairs.

 

My all-or-nothing personality, my competitive spirit, my dare devilish and willful character was a deadly combination with my shame and childhood trauma.

 

And this wasn’t supposed to be me. I was the kid in high school that never drank. I went to parties, declining the forbidden red cup, strong in my resolve that I had soccer the next day.

 

I thought about things like being the designated driver, and what we would do if the cops came.

 

I was the nerd who called my mom when faced with alcohol for the first time, asking “Can I have a sip of something called Mike’s Hard Lemonade? Just one sip?”

 

I’m not kidding.

 

My childhood friend, Devon still laughs about this.

 

But then college happened. And an injury.

 

And quickly – very quickly, things changed.

 

I found escape.

 

I found identity.

 

I found a way to ease my anxiety and to relieve myself of the burden of self.

 

Drinking had stopped being a social endeavor, and instead became an internal ally.

 

Alcohol took on a life of its own– like a monster with claws, and whispers, and demands, each time growing stronger and digging it’s claws deeper into my spirit.

 

Once it entered my body, it took up residence, and robbed me of my power and self respect.

 

For someone who considered herself disciplined, I found that once I started drinking my discipline was void of its authority.

 

At first, alcohol cloaked me with armor, making me feel safe, and apathetic. (Apathy was a gift for someone who cared too much, about things that don’t matter.)

 

Until I entered a different dimension, where I had left completely, only to wake up the next morning with nothing but shame and wonderment…and not the good kind of wonderment.

 

There’s a lot of moving pieces to this story, but the most important piece is that I made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God on January 17, 2008.

 

It wasn’t because I failed out of school – the opposite is true. During the time I drank the most I was on the Dean’s List.

 

The irony is, that I actually struggled the most the first semester I stopped drinking.

 

It wasn’t because I got kicked off the team.

 

 

I was still playing, and able to train, and train well. I went to early morning lifts, still drunk and dancing in the weight room.

 

It wasn’t because I was homeless, or on a corner with a brown paper back under a bridge.

 

In fact, I remember listening to others like me for the first time and thinking “I’m not like these people. I’m an athlete. On a scholarship. I’m not some druggy bum, who’s lost everything.”

 

And in that space – in my first encounter with people who shared in a common malady, a woman in her 40’s with only the love a mother would have, grabbed my face with both hands and said “sweetie, this is not the life that God has for you.”

 

In that moment, I broke.

 

God spoke the words right through her.

 

The words I knew to be true.

 

The words that led me to that place at that time, and cut through my soul.

 

The stories I heard about people’s losses – I learned those were my “not yets” and they didn’t have to happen.

 

Looking back, I did have a deep fear of what could happen.

 

I still do.

 

The loss of school, and scholarship and soccer.

 

 

I had fear about all the things that could result from my behavior.

 

 

The roads it could have taken me down.

 

But, most importantly, I had a fear that I would never be able to live the life I wanted to live – the life God intended for me to live, if I kept drinking.

 

This is the take away.

 

Drinking diminished my light.

 

It wasn’t about a physical rock bottom for me, it was about a spiritual rock bottom.

 

I had arrived at a place where alcohol stopped allowing me to escape my pain and started bringing more pain to my life.

 

Over the last 11 years, I’ve had times that I’ve been proud of my sobriety and times where I’ve felt shame.

 

There are times where I feel different –

 

And sometimes that’s uncomfortable.

 

But, this is me, and here’s my truth.

 

The reality is, that whether it’s alcohol, shopping, food, relationship, exercise, business, busyness, etc. – we all have ways of escaping our pain.

 

We all have toxicity in our lives that we need to be rid of.

 

… We all have things in our lives that will prevent us from becoming our best selves and living our truest purpose, if we don’t identify them, and do something about them.

 

Oprah talks about the reality that we are spiritual beings, having a human experience.

She also talks about the fact that we are all here to figure out our purpose and to realize that purpose.

 

I believe both to be true.

 

For me, this was a time where I had to remove something for the health of my spirit, and the health of my relationship with God.

 

Perhaps I’m writing about this, because I feel that I’m here again, in a different way.

 

For each person, this walk looks different.

 

It’s not linear.

 

It’s riddled with chapters of accelerated growth, and what feels like decline.

 

There are setbacks, and challenges, and roadblocks.

 

But the thing I know to be true through the complexity of this experience is that we cannot find peace in the dichotomy of spirt and human unless we honor our spirt first, because that is who we really are.

 

And in order to honor our spirt, we must first honor God.

 

By doing both, only then, are we able to find our purpose and realize our potential.

 

And God said “For I know the plans I have for you,” “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future,” (Jeremiah 29:11, NIV).

 

 

 

“Life gives you exactly what you need to awaken.”
T. Scott McLeod

 

You know those relationships – those experiences – those interactions…?

 

That thing that was said?

 

That action that was taken?

 

That look that was given?

 

And you find yourself having a reaction.

 

….You find yourself irritated.

 

Annoyed.

 

Angry.

 

Your buttons have been pushed.

 

All the stuff – the stuff we push down deep – starts to bubble to the surface.

 

Maybe this happens to you too often – why?

 

Maybe this happens rarely, but you’ve met that one person, who just knows how.

 

Maybe you want to run.

 

Maybe you want to distance.

 

Maybe you want to lash out and fight.

 

Maybe you want to blame,

 

Or deflect,

 

Or cry.

 

We’ve all had those relationships.

 

The ones where,

 

Our buttons are pushed.

 

Triggers are ignited.

 

And something’s been activated within us, that we don’t like.

 

It might be a parent, or a sibling.

 

It might be a friend, a boyfriend or a spouse.

 

It might be someone who does it unintentionally,

 

Or someone who does it on purpose (maybe run from this person…).

 

But, what do we do in these times?

 

Do we recognize what’s happening?

 

Do we acknowledge what we’re thinking and feeling?

 

Do we have the courage and curiosity to discover what’s really going on?

 

As we go through life, we will meet people from all walks of life.

 

We will have friends.

 

Acquaintances.

 

Soul mates.

 

Lovers.

 

Casual partners,

 

And big loves.

 

We’ll find people we connect with intellectually,

 

spiritually,

 

physically,

 

emotionally.

 

We’ll find people we connect with on more level than one.

 

We’ll find people that we connect with on a heart level – soul to soul.

 

And we’ll unfortunately find people we connect with on an injured level – wound to wound.

 

We’ll find people we connect with based on personalities –
It’s easy – there’s chemistry – “we click” – we have the same interests, and passions, and hobbies.

 

And we’ll find people we connect with on a spiritual level –
We have similar morals and values, and we’re both committed to authentic living, and spiritual development.

 

But, I don’t think we meet any of these people by mistake.

 

About two years ago, I met someone who called me a “soul mate.”

 

About eight years ago, I remember reading an Elizabeth Gilbert quote that read :

 

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so that you can change your life. A true soul mate is a probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.”

 

Two years ago, I met a soul mate in the form a what I thought was a very close friend.

 

It was a friendship I considered sacred – I think I misunderstood it as a spiritual friendship, soul to soul – and in retrospect, I’m left realizing that maybe it was “wound to wound.”

 

Eight years ago, I was departing a relationship with someone I thought I would marry.

 

Both times, this quote resonated.

 

Both times, I experienced tremendous pain –

 

Both times, injured parts of myself were revealed –

 

Both times, I discovered in many ways,

 

At many times,

 

Buttons were pushed

 

Triggers were activated.

 

And fear was the thing that was always present.

 

When we experience pain in relationship, can we be honest about the fact that it’s not the relationship itself, but about what’s being activated within us?

 

When an injured part of ourselves is revealed, can we acknowledge it, and treat it like a living part of ourselves asking to be seen, heard and loved?

 

I think most times, when we find ourselves in these situations, we try to self soothe in other ways.

 

We blame.

 

We focus on the other person – their shortcomings, failings, and wrongdoings.

 

We ignore completely.

 

We distance ourselves.

 

We distract ourselves.

 

We do whatever we can do to just make it go away.

 

It’s human – we want to avoid the thing that hurt us.

 

I’m reminded this week, that little to nothing is accomplished by these methods.

 

You don’t ever heal.

 

And you don’t ever grow.

 

The question isn’t about someone else.

 

The focus can’t be about someone else.

 

Both the question and the focus must return to : what’s going on inside?

 

What’s my part?

 

Where was I wrong?

 

And why?
I don’t think we ever act poorly because we want to.

 

And we don’t make faulty decisions or act in poor judgement because we want to.

 

The things we do or don’t do –

 

Say or don’t say –

 

Reveal the truth about why.

 

Why and where.

 

Why we are –

 

And where it’s coming from.

 

If we believe that everything is spiritual, the personal question should be:

 

What’s being asked of me for my own spiritual development?

 

What reflection have I just seen, in the mirror that was held up in this relationship?

 

And sometimes, this sucks.

 

Being honest with ourselves, about ourselves, isn’t always easy or comfortable.

 

It’s hard.

 

But being honest with ourselves is the only way to authentic living.

 

When we avoid these questions in relationship with self, we live disingenuous lives.

 

When we avoid these questions in our relationships with others, we experience superficial connection.

 

I’m unsure if heaps of people want to ask the hard questions.

 

The questions that they fear have the power to destroy.

 

Whether it be the destruction of perception,

 

Or belief,

 

Or the relationship itself.

 

But, I think to have what’s truly special –

 

With yourself, with God, and with others –

 

We have to be committed to asking the questions.

 

… And receiving the answers.

There’s a new local coffee café, where I’ve been going to work and write.

 
I’m excited about this place – it’s pretty, trendy, and I can get an Americano that’s at least seventy five percent as good as what I ordered in Australia.

 
This is an accomplishment, considering most of our coffee in the States tastes like dirty water.

 
(America, we do a lot of things right, but coffee isn’t one of them. I had no idea…)

 
This week, I entered conversation with one of the barista’s about the owner, and their coffee distributer, and we chatted for a minute about how fantastic the coffee was in Australia.

 
I sat down with my coffee, still smiling about our conversation and decided to dig through my saved, unpublished blogs in my “Australia” folder.

 
I found one entitled, “Intuition.”

 
I remembered what inspired this blog – and why I decided not to share it.

 
As I read, I was transported back.

 
I could feel the sun on my face as I sat outside that café in Brisbane.

 
I remembered the Australian barista who convinced me to try a dirty chai latte, saying “ah, you have to try it love. You won’t regret it,” in a thick Aussie accent that would have convinced me to buy just about anything he was selling.

 
I remembered my turquoise beach cruiser, with the little basket on the front, propped up against the light pole to my left.

 
And I remembered the deep revelation that accompanied a dream I had the night before, illustrating the magnitude of a toxic relationship that I was departing, from the other side of the world.

 
As I read my own words, I thought about why I landed at the topic of intuition.

 
I was re-evaluating a lot of things in my life –

 
Where was I going?

 
What do I want?

 
What’s the state of my soul?

 
And the state of my relationships….

 
I was angry at myself.

 
Because, I found myself in a situation where I knew things weren’t healthy.

 

I remember reflecting, as if to timeline my experience.

 

And that’s where my anger came in.

 

All along the way in this encounter – from the very start – I knew : “something’s off here.”

 

“This isn’t quite right.”

 

And it continued to be revealed to me, but I didn’t want to accept it.

 

That’s the thing about intuition – it doesn’t always reveal the things we want to be true.

 

Intuition is a powerful force.

 

It can lead us to amazing things.

 

It can lead us to opportunity.

 

Love.

 

Friendship.

 

Success.

 

A new location.

 

A new experience.

 

Intuition can also serve to warn us.

 

To protect us.

 

To lead us away from.

 

Our intuition is the thing we know without knowing. Our hunches, gut feelings…our instincts.

 

We know when something’s wrong.

 

We know when something’s right.

 

We know things that we can’t always articulate.

 

Intuition arrives in different forms –

 

Sometimes, it’s a whisper.

 

Sometimes, it’s loud.

 

Sometimes, our bodies recognize it before our minds in the form of an increased heart rate, a feeling of uneasiness, or the recognition of something familiar.

 

Intuition speaks when we feel someone’s energy.

 

When we find ourselves at a crossroads.

 

And, when our senses provide us with information, that would have been inaccessible otherwise.

 

Much of the struggle is when we fight that knowing. That’s when we enter an inner battle.

 

So….I started to think about the times we choose to ignore our intuition.

 

Why?

 

Probably many reasons, but here’s what I came up with….

 

Doubt and insecurity.

We question ourselves – our intelligence, our ability to read people and situations, our ability to make good decisions.

 

Logic or popular opinion.

Sometimes what’s right for us doesn’t make sense to others. It doesn’t fit the mold, or go with the majority. To be honest, sometimes, what’s right for us doesn’t even make sense to us at the time. We just know it’s right.

 

We are easily manipulated.

We allow other people to tell us who we are, what to think, what’s right, what’s real, how things are and should be. We allow others to drive our car.

 

Trauma.

This one’s too deep to explore, but it’s more than relevant.

 

Excitement, attachment, or addiction.

Sometimes we instinctively know that someone or something is toxic for us and we pursue it anyway? We feel terrible, but enslaved. ….Yeah, that takes me back to trauma actually.

 

It looks good.

We choose the wrong schools, the wrong partners, the wrong jobs – we go against our intuition, because it “seems right” or “looks right.”

 

We take on all the things….

In the case of my dream….we take on someone else’s stuff, negating the evidence that our intuition is in fact on point. No doubt we need to own ours, but we also need to stop there.

 

We are too emotionally invested.

We’ve fought for something. We’ve placed too many expectations on something – and we don’t want to back out now. Maybe we care too much. Or we’re stubborn. 

 

There are many things that could cause us to dismiss our intuition, but think about the times that you listened to your intuition.

 

How did that go for you?

 

Think about the times that you denied or rebelled against your intuition.

 

How did that go for you?

 

We are hardwired with an intuitive spirit for good reason. Intuition, when listened to, is a guiding force helping us to learn the lessons we need to learn, meet the people we need to meet, experience the things we need to experience, and live the lives we are meant to live.