Red is not really my color. It doesn't look good with my skin or my eyes. It's a great color, just not on me. At least that is what I have always thought. But, lately I've been trying on my red a lot more. Not really wearing it, necessarily, although I do have some rockin' red flats that I love. What I mean is that I have adopted a new mantra, if you will. Instead of approaching my life from a place of fear, I have decided to switch the fear with courage. Sounds simple enough, no? No. Not really, anyway. It has taken me a lot of hard work, determination and, well, courage, to shift my thinking.
Now, I realize that what takes courage for me is very different from what it may mean to others. Here is an example of what it's like from my eyes. I wake up in the morning feeling like I could easily sleep another three hours, head aching, allergies raging, pain and fatigue assaulting my body and I yell, "NO!", in my head. I want to hide under the covers and pretend that I did not hear that alarm or my husbands' gentle but persistent voice to wake up. I immediately tell myself, "I can't do this". This is pretty much how I feel every day. HOWEVER, for the past month or so I have been challenged by my ever so amazing Integrated Awareness Practitioner to replace the fear behind those statements with a calm sense of courage. So, now when I say "I can't do it!", I correct myself and say, "Yes, I can. I did it yesterday and the day before and I can do it again today".
What is "it" you may ask? Well, getting out of bed for one thing. Then there is showering, eating breakfast, taking my meds and supplements, getting my little one up and fed and clothed for school. Making his lunch. Driving him to school. Taking my walk and then picking both of my kiddos from their schools, the occasional play date, bringing them to karate, making dinner, playing with them, helping with homework, and if I can muster up the strength; bedtime routines. Overwhelmed? I was.
It amazes me that moms without chronic pain and illness do all of the above and much more in a day. I do not clean my house during the week. I do laundry and try to keep up with the dishes and trash. On good days, I make dinner. May not sound like much to some, but that's what I do. My husband does the vacuuming, and pretty much picks up the rest of the pieces that complete the puzzle of our life together.
At first, I was really jazzed about this new idea of replacing the word and feeling of fear with courage. It was exhilarating and empowering. My revised mantra seemed easy enough. Until the day when it rained for the fifth day in a row, insomnia had been taking over my nights and the bags under my eyes could hold $250 worth of clothes from Kohl's. That morning I said, "The hell with this. I CAN'T do this. I don't WANT to do this. I give u........", and then a voice, a very small voice, in my soul, said "Yes, you can". I decided to begin with the Serenity Prayer. Then I slowly slid to the edge of my bed and took an enormous breath and got up. Nothing magical here. It was not fun. It was not invigorating. I still looked like death warmed over. But, I got up. I went downstairs. I began my day. I did not make dinner that night. I could not exercise. My courage that day was getting out of bed. Washing my face, brushing my teeth and getting dressed took courage. Every step I took felt like I was sloughing through molasses. It was a very hard day but I smiled for my kids and hugged my husband when he got home from work. When the day finally ended I even smiled at myself. I wore my red that day. My red badge of courage. Going to bed that night, I thought, "That wasn't too, too bad".
I am proud to say that I am getting used to this power color. I'm diggin' it a lot more these days, That right there is progress, my friends.
