NOW | Better Late Than Never
It was somewhat jarring to wake up one morning to realize that I’m free to be whomever I want from now on. I’ve played so many roles in my life, I never had much of a chance to be me - 100% - all the time. That doesn’t mean that I’ve been putting on any kind of act; I just served certain roles in the way the role required. Mother, friend, daughter, lover, neighbour, coach, student, owner, investor, cheerleader, employee, life journey cruise director - so many roles.
This past summer, I took a 10-week workshop on how we want to show up in our relationships and simultaneously, I started therapy. I think the combination of the two kick-started something deep in my soul. It reminded me that I was missing; I was not showing up for myself as much as I was showing up for everyone else. For a long time, so many people in my life needed me to play small for their comfort, and after years of bullying at its worst, I conformed because I had lost the ability to see the big picture and simply wanted to make the hurt stop. If I agreed and went along, I wouldn’t bring any unwarranted attention to myself, and then I’d be safe.
I started therapy because of my weight. I’ve always referred to it as my “armour” as it protected me from a lot. Let your imagination run wild, and you’ll be almost half right. I don’t want to go into specifics, but at this point, I know the many extra pounds served their purpose. I’m grateful for the protection the weight afforded me, but I’m no longer in trauma; it’s time to go.
I decided that for the time between the Autumn (Mabon) and Spring (Ostara) Equinoxes, I would give myself the best, most focused and consistent opportunity to create the life I want. The Lee I want to be - for me and no one else. In case you weren’t aware, this time of hibernation taps into your feminine energy, and that’s what I knew I’d need if I were to realize my dreams.
After all, in the brilliant words of Elizabeth Gilbert, “I've never seen any life transformation that didn't begin with the person in question finally getting tired of their own bullshit.”
With that in mind, I erased all of the meticulously colour-coded time blocks in my calendar - and any corresponding lists. All that was left was:
WRITE - get a draft completed, forget about “what’s next” because nothing happens if nothing is written. I was literally worried about nothing. Paralyzed for years.
I came up with a fresh and new-to-me idea about a topic with which I’m intimately familiar. My kids laughingly call it “Gossip Girls for Adults,” and some days, it seems that way. More often, it feels really fun to get down on the page all of the wild stories the characters (who have taken over my head) tell me all day long - they’ve even taken over my dreams! And so I’ve embraced permission to lie on the page with impunity. I have relied a bit on my experiences for some of it, but wow, once the characters run with the story, I’m breathless trying to catch up. What I’ve ended up with is certainly not how it started; I can only hope it’s better.
When I started, I decided to write a minimum of 3-hours every day from Sunday through Thursday. It’s amazing how I can sit at the desk with a hot cup of tea and get up to make a fresh cup only to realize it’s a few hours later. Time has morphed into a whole new concept that no longer cooperates. This is especially true when I’m researching the rules and regulations for investment banking, fringe sexual fetishes, competitive junior tennis, the running of an art gallery, or how a Michelin-star restaurant actually works. I’m also being reminded of the quirks and contradictions in other industries and institutions I never thought I’d forget! It turns out that 3-hours is not enough time to write, research, and read - all of the ingredients of a good book. And often, my characters wake me up in the middle of the night, and I wander downstairs, much to the bewilderment of the dogs, and shuffle into my office, where the computer screen reveals a blinking cursor just waiting for more story.
To keep my writing a priority, I hired a writing coach the minute I decided to completely immerse myself in this project. Christina has been a generous, insightful and patient godsend. Without her, I don’t know where we (the draft or me) would be!
I continue to write here, too. I’m walking my talk and showing up as my most vulnerable self. For the first time, I’m actually honouring my own story with Anne Lamott’s famous quote, “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” Instead of being hurt by the monsters in my life, I’ll simply write about them. Exorcise them from my system to take their power away. Casual cruelty is pretty potent. Who knows what the stories will become? Right now, I’m content with them being recorded.
MOVE - physically as well as energetically. It’s past time to address the weight and get rid of it, or at the very least make a last-ditch wholehearted, unconditional effort.
I consistently eat well - I’m a perimeter shopper at the grocery store, consuming very little fast- or prepared-foods. I have a rebounder, skipping ropes, and Bosu, which I use less than I’d like; I walk as much as I can and am that crazy person who parks at the far end of everything to force myself to get extra steps in; though October was nutty, I’m in the market for a new trainer for the Pilates reformer machine twice; I get upwards of 9-hours of sleep every night; and, drink the obligatory number of ounces daily. Even if I eat like crap and sit all day, my weight has remained the same for over a decade. With one exception: when Bill was with me. He asked me to weigh myself one day - which I feared meant I had gained weight. In fact, he was concerned that my butt was getting smaller (he really was lovely). And he was right. I had lost close to 30 pounds, and I didn’t even realize it! It’s clear that my body responds well to love and safety.
When I scan my body if I’m concerned about something, stress always shows up in my solar plexus, the space between my sternum and belly button. I don’t have to check-in; it’s so tight it feels like I’m planking when I’m sitting or lying down. Therapy has helped me identify a few of my stories that need permission to heal, and I need to integrate them into my system, which has been exhausting. We keep at it! I don’t know if my stories amuse or horrify her. And, because I’m a practitioner of a few metaphysical modalities, I’ve gone to a couple of talented energy experts to help shift the stuck gunk from my third chakra, my solar plexus, our “seat of power.” Hey, anything to move this crap away! To that end, I have a cup of solar plexus tea after lunch every day; I’m wearing amber and citrine; I’ve downloaded solar plexus guided meditations, musical playlists, and I even curated a playlist that includes some pretty potent empowerment tunes which I have on repeat. Not for long, but I have lived in a yellow house for two years! I stop short at purchasing yellow clothing, but other than that, I’m doing all I can to embrace and harness my “seat of power” and integrate all it has to teach me into my system to flush the weight away (likely, literally).
MANIFEST - this was the easiest part because none of the work is mine, and I’m not even supposed to invest thought in the form it arrives. I’m responsible for the intention.
I am not lonely; I have an abundant life filled with people and activities that keep me hopping. Bill and I were just getting into a solid, trusting, safe, and loving rhythm in our relationship when he left us. I liked having him around - someone to talk to, laugh with, learn from; he was better than I could have ever imagined (and I dreamt of him for decades). If it’s meant to be, I’m hoping the Universe (Spirit, God, The Divine, Bill, pick your preference) will bless me with another (healthier) partner so that I am not alone and can feel safe and loved again, I want to be in good company for a long time - I didn’t have it long enough, and I miss it!
We’re just past the halfway point to the Spring Equinox. Even though I lost the majority of October to an insane schedule, November to writing, and much of December to re-entry, I’m confident that great strides have been made toward the life I want to participate in. What is that exactly? I want a life that is sized right for me. I’m tired of playing small, conforming, and not living true to myself and my values or dreams. I’m not too much of anything. If I am, then I’m simply not the right fit for you, and that’s perfectly okay. With love and light, move along, no hard feelings.
As anyone who visits here knows, I always choose a “word of the year” and I believe MORE was perfect for 2022. It held many gifts and surprises I needed. It taught me where I needed less in my life.