Standing on Ceremony

Please make yourself at home. There is no need to stand on ceremony.

I often hold back on my true feelings to avoid even a hint of conflict. These are patterns of behavior that served me well as a young child, but as an adult, they have wreaked havoc on my relationships. And I am changing my ways.

Tired of acting overly or unnecessarily polite, I find myself in a kind of fog. The way forward is not clear. I don’t want to be difficult. But I need to find a way to be in connection with others without losing my sense of self along the way.

What do I want? This question that I have so seldom even considered is now at the top of my mind.

Even though drinking coffee or tea or wine are all socially expected, I don’t really like any of them. It sounds like this. No thank you. I prefer water.

Joy feels good. Depriving myself of foods that I love, in the name of wellness or health, feels like a thief trying to steal that joy. I’ve been using a continuous glucose monitor to help me prevent my prediabetes from becoming full on diabetes as though it was my life’s work. It’s time to let that sh*t go. It sounds like this. I’ll wait and see how my lab results look without making predictions that I’m not doing enough to change my lifestyle.

I’m not standing on ceremony anymore.

Body Parts

 

When I saw this scene in the thrift shop, I was immediately drawn to the symbolism. This is just what my life feels like. It’s as though all of my pieces and parts have been pulled apart and now I am working on putting them back together differently.

When I finally took a long look at the patterns in my relationships, I saw that I was long overdue for an interpersonal revision. My healing is my number one priority, and I’ve been pouring energy and attention into myself.

For years I lived with chronic pain. And it was my body wisdom that led me to a healthier and more peaceful life. I remember telling my physical therapist that I didn’t feel as though my upper body was properly situated on my lower body. I was always struggling with some discomfort, feeling as though my parts were not connected in any meaningful way. It’s an awful thing to not be present in your own life. To believe you are unworthy and try to compensate by over-giving. Now, instead of shaming, I use compassionate language to reassure myself that it’s okay to be human.

There are many ways to expand my window of tolerance, and one of those ways, is through creative work. I love life - and seeing this way makes me feel alive. And whole.