my bubble

an excerpt from a book I'm reading: "In my search for power, I became a control freak, a people pleaser, a perfectionist, a tough girl, and a princess in a tower. Do you see yourself in any of these categories?"

uhh, let's just say, 4 out of 5 ain't bad...

"...realize that they are masks that prevent you from getting to the root of your pain."

yes, we all wear masks sometimes. some of us more than others.

I like to think of it as...living inside my Bubble.

My bubble is what protects me...where I hunker down in survival mode..my defense from judgement. No one can hurt me when I'm inside my bubble. Alongside me in my bubble, keeping me safe, I keep these 3 things: (1) words of God's truth, spoken directly to my individual heart, my own unique personal mess, (2) words of my own real honest truth, and (3) words of truth from trusted ones. Inside my bubble I can bask in these affirming words and the presence of God's spirit, no matter what's going on or being said around me. They can't hurt me when I'm in my bubble.

Sometimes my bubble looks light and flowy, nice & sweet, smells like baby shampoo. that's how i hope i look and smell....to the un-trustables.

But other times, when I'm alone, or on a run, or jab-cross-jabbing in my boxing class, my bubble becomes a hard, super-bouncy, bouncy ball,

hot neon orange, bouncing, banging, wildly off the walls,

ricochet like an angry bullet,

while my own drops of salty anger pelt the pavement like splattered blood

all my hurts, pain, sadness

become food for fury

in this fiery furnace of my hardened heart

watch what you say

careful what you do

or next time....

I'm in something like this...

 

...but remember, it's just a mask.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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What happened?

thought I had it all together

thought I had them all fooled

hiding behind babies, play dates, church faces

I really was a normal person

living a clean, balanced life

then what happened?

something cracked it...

once cracked,

insides started leaking..

slowly at first..

a drop..

then a trickle...

streams to a torrent...

now out of control.

want to reign it all in,

close the dam, suck it all up..

but I can't.

it's my truth.

 

ugly, broken, twisted..

yet still longing to live,

reaching for the sun

craving warmth, freedom

just needs a safe place

to grow, supported

held with gentle hands

and the truthful whispers of the Creator.

to know I'm still loved

to know I can be remade

to know what I've broken

can be restored, made stronger,

reflecting Your glory and power

in the small, beautiful places.

take me there, Jesus

to my Healing Place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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just another thursday

Thursday. The usual. Body Combat report. To get you in the mood, here's a cool video promo of one of their DVD"s, led by some very official-looking Les Mills instructors who have awesome form. It's short, check it out here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMNyX3T1UoA&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Great class today. To put it in the words of our instructor, as he commented on Facebook a few minutes ago: "Well done today, MCM..."(Mad Cary Moms) ....."....Beast Mode was definitely engaged."

Yes, we were beasts. Hot, sweaty, mean beasty moms. even the guys.

I've been rambling and raving about this class for awhile now, so I'll try to keep this short. Just a couple new observations: 1. Mr. Robb really smells. I happen to stand in the front row, so when we travel forward to do a moving fight combination, I have to remind myself to stray to the side a bit, or P-U!!!! Of course I'm sure I really smell, too, but just sayin.. 2. The chick I critiqued a couple weeks ago? She happens to be another Body Combat instructor!!! uh, whooops!! Guess I"ll have to go back and do some editing before I add any tags to these posts, making them google-able to the world, so nobody knows I've been critiquing them..and whoops, I guess I'm also put in my humble place here, no more judgement. :)

Notes on technique: On cross-jabs, aim the 2 first, front knuckles at your opponent's face. I'm aiming here...

Also, on the hook-upper-cut-hook combo, he says this move needs to be "like a little black dress: tight, and close, so you can't get inside!" Right, Robb.

We move into the Muay Thai track, my favorite one, to the song "Speed". (It really feels inappropriate to call that piece of crazy noise a "song", there's no melody or notes, just insanity-unleashed-mayhem and I love it!

Robb says we're moving from the street brawl to the steel cage... "This track starts with your opponent already on his knees, begging for mercy...I think he's come to the wrong person!!"

I just have to share some video of that track, and I couldn't decide which one I liked best, so here's all 3:

First one's in Spanish...where is this, Brazil? This girl instructor rocks:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RF_eZy5bGlk&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Second one, has 2 instructors, love how halfway in they attack each other with the street brawl move, fun!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4K8iZVZVgD0&feature=youtube_gdata_player

And the third, I just love watching the Mad Mom participants in the front row, they are really MAD!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NBtlCO-P7IU&feature=youtube_gdata_player

So there you've got an idea of how much fun I just had!!! My only disappointment with these videos was they did not really get off the ground on the elbow strikes. Robb called this move the "flying elbow strikes" and my thought during that part was, "O, how lovely art the air beneath the feet of these Ninja Mad Cary Moms!!!" as I looked in the front wall of mirrors at all these crazed fighting ladies a foot off the ground, striking their imaginary opponents with their sharp elbows. Hiiiiiyah!!

Robb made it even more fun by getting us all worked up and screaming with him at the part of the song that goes, '"SPEED!!! SPEED!!!!SPEED!!! SPEED!!!! "

He also brought out our cheerleader instincts on the last boxing track, where he'd yell, "MAD CARY MOMS!!!" and we'd respond, "FIGHT!! FIGHT!!! FIGHT!!" over and over again.

So much fun.

End of class. Sweaty moms stagger out, cool, ready-to-stretch Body Flow people flow in, as the lights dim and the mood quickly turns to relaxed, peaceful, yoga-ish. Love the relaxing, "let go", flowing movements, as we move through the class of stretching, tightening our core, working on balance, breathing and mindfulness in the serene environment of dimmed lights and upbeat/reflective, relaxing music.

At the end, my favorite, the resting/meditation track, as we're lying on our backs, she tells us to "go to that place of warmth"... I'm there. Suddenly these stupid tears come leaking out of my eyes, first the right eye, then the left, then right, left. What's all this noise? I"m thinking. I am not a crier. Guess it's my right-brain, movement-to-music connection that always gets me all emotional, digs into my subconscious thoughts. I mean I wasn't even consciously thinking about anything specific...or else it's a Spirit thing...

...or both. Either way, we finish class with our usual bow and "namaste". I roll up my mat, and use my sweat towel to wipe up a silly stray tear that fell on it. weird.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The donut man

Now how does this go again???

Ahhhh Mondays, I love Mondays... I know that sounds ironic, but it's true. Weekends are hard. That's just how my life rolls.

This Monday, (today) I am psyched because I am on my way to try out yet another different instructor at my boxing fitness club. I'm downing my starbucks and DD munchkin donuts, singing to the radio, having a good time, not feeling a bit nervous....till I pull up in the parking lot next to those big picture windows. Why am I here? I'm asking myself again. Silent prayers go up as I gather up my gloves and wraps and sullenly walk towards the door. But when I open the door, I am greeted by the cutest, sweetest Boston terrier you ever meet, and my fears are melted into cute puppy-dog goodness. It's the instructor's dog, I learn. What a good dog, very well-behaved, too.

I soon grab hold of the instructor, Mr. "Duque" (pronounced like "Duke") and ask him to help me with my hand wraps. He wraps me up really good, says there's lots of ways to do it, but his is the best. It DOES feel really good. First impressions: shortish Italian (?) guy, big-ape muscles, tattoo of some Arabic writing all over his arm, totes a gallon jug of water. He's from Californina; credentials include training with some UFC guys by the names of Griffin, Diaz, Melendez, Melchor Menor...well those names could be Big Bird and Elmo from Sesame Street, as much as I know about fighting..

Jump-rope warm-up. Only 6 of us in the class, so the talk is light and fun. He spends the whole time talking about donuts. He considers Dunkin Donuts & Krispy Kreme trash, since he's from Cali where there's a mom-and-pop donut shop on every corner & he can't believe we don't have those here in NC. I'm just getting hungry thinking about it, so let's get busy burning off those munchkins I just ate in the car..

Cardio intervals...we all grab a set of small dumbells, which we hold up to our faces while running back & forth to his commands: Jog-sprint-push-ups-jog-sprint-jab/cross-jog,sprint,mountain climbers-sprint,jog-bob & weave-jog-sprint-bear crawl-jog-sprint-squat walk-keep those dumbells by your face-sprint-etc.

Time to glove up up. Today's big treat- since it's such a small class, usually it's like 20 people, we get to partner up and catch each other's punches, almost like real fighting!! He puts me and this other mom together and we learn several sequences which we do back and forth across the mat:

Jab-cross combo, partner rolls shoulder to avoid punch.

Upper cut, cross, hook, cross. (partner catches)

Cross-jab, body-hook, that one was fun, whopping each other's motherly hips, lots of cushion there!!

Overhead swing right, left (partner ducks twice, gotta time this just right...) My partner recently had surgery on her toe and has less range of motion on the ducking, so I have to aim higher, plus she's taller than me, so I end up smacking her right in the face not once but two times!!! Ooooops, sorry-not-sorry, do I get 2 points for that one? hahaha!!!!

 

Advantage of small class: more personal attention and critique. My advice from Mr. Duque, relax more, not so rigid when I swing. This was so fun! Like learning a dance, takes coordination. sort of like ballroom dancing, the partnering/ mirroring kind of thing. Time flies, and it's time for the last section of strength training.

 

They're called "undulating ropes", I think, these big fat double ropes secured on one end to the wall. In squat position, violently shake those big heavy things till they go up & down like big snakes, reminds me of double-dutch jump rope games as a kid. Except these things are monstrous, and we have to keep our butts way down close to the ground. Then move them like rainbows, dont' stop till the time is up. He's barking at us, "Who's ready to quit???" More squats with medicine balls. Ab work with the balls. Done.

I get to know Dozer, that sweet Boston terrier that Duque's been petting this whole time while we're working our butts off. I ask him (Duque, not Dozer) if they have any actual fighting classes, he says not yet. I assure him they'd just be fun to watch. (I lie) Love this class. Wish I could afford the full membership, I'd be back much more often!

Now I deserve some more donuts.

 

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quickie

 

 

Just a quickie....it's sort of a beeezy beeezy day...

My favorite line from Body Combat class, spoken by who else but our fearless leader Mr. Robb, (instructor):

during the Muay Thai track, "Look, Ma!! I'm makin' hamburger!!!!" (if you're new here, you have to understand that we Mad Cary Moms take this aggressive fighting-fitness class quite seriously, and aggressively!)

also during same track, we're doing these cool jumpin' elbow strikes, and the girl next to me must've been trying to jump higher than me cuz all of a sudden her glasses go flying off! (had to be there, it was funny...)

last funny mentionable: Before class, I got caught jammin' to my tunes as I sat in my car, slammin' the rest of my coffee, killing time before class started, when Mr. Robb pulls up in the space beside me. Busted!!!

sad and happy mentionable: I may soon miss some of Mr. Robb's classes, as I had a job interview today that ended in an informal job offer (yippee!) depending on my background check. (oh dear...biting my nails here...) Guess I"ll have to start following Mr. Robb around the Triangle like a groupie, visiting all the other health clubs where he teaches this class. My life is about to change... (duh-duh-daaaaaaahhhh!!!!)

that's all. see ya!! :)

 

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Sights along the journey (trailer)

When embarking upon a journey in life, here's a few things to remember...
First, don't forget to stretch. First one side...

...then the other.

Of course that means stretch your mind, as well. You can do a lot more than you think you can. Widen your possibilities. Walk right up to the edge of your comfort zone and...

oh wait, be sure to look before you leap, if you can...

why did this river dry up, when we've been given so much rain? Watch out for water-stealers, things in life that leave you dry, thirsting for more.

And if you do leap into a dark, scary place...well, to be honest, my first thoughts upon entering this dark secluded area of the woods were not big brave spiritual thoughts...they were more like, ok, I am reeeeeeaaally glad I've been taking Body Combat and boxing classes for the past few months, for if I should suddenly encounter an Attacker in these woods, I know just what I would do: start with a few speed jabs to push him back, wind up and smack him in the nose, then the gut, POW! POW! followed by a knee in the gut as well, add a roundhouse kick to knock him down, finish his descent with some mad-insane muay thai street brawler punches, let's see, what am I forgetting...ok, once he's down I jump on his chest and let out all my fury in some powerful right and left hook blows to both sides of his head, AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!.....then jump up, brush myself off, and skip away, whistling "zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-day, my oh my what a wonderful day..."

After doing battle, whether in the flesh or in the spirt, you need to give yourself time to rest. Come away to a quiet place and rest your soul.

Find a perfect tree to make friends with for awhile.

Finally, don't forget to look back and see how far you've come. The journey may not be over, you may not be where you need to be, but thank God you're not where you used to be.

oh just one more thing..

Don't neglect the child inside of you.. have a little fun! (check it out...)

http://7sec.co/v/2tUM

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traffic cops & weinerschnitzel

Recently I was asked to answer a few questions about the word "power". yes, power. ok. Like....what is your definition of power? who have you known who was/is powerful? what power have you lost or given up over the years? what can you have power over now? what steps will you take to get it and keep it?

My first reaction was to ask the asker to rephrase that question, isn't "power" a word reserved for talk about God, or superheroes, or powerful world leaders, political figures? Maybe just "control" would be better...
But ok. I'll roll with it. My definition of power: the ability to make change occur, to have a strong influence over others.
Jump down a few questions... these days, I exert power over my body by working out frequently in order to increase my physical strength and overall health benefits. I can control that area of my life, so it helps me feel more powerful. in all areas.
Same with writing. Expressing myself through the written word is a huge source of power for me. Using my voice. Learning to sort out the life inside of me by putting it down on paper or the screen. power.
And power in relationships...

well, let's just say that on a one-way street, I like to be the traffic cop; NO ONE gets past me unless I say so.
Realizing my potential for personal power, as it's coming to light during this journey, thanks to this kind of thinking and articulating it into words I can spit out and look at, is helping me differentiate between being assertive and being aggressive. At first, feeling aggressive was a reaction to frustration and pent-up emotion. Where it can't be let it out, it can become passive-aggression, acting out in secret but deviant ways. (you know, like unscrewing the salt shaker a bit so the next person dumps a whole load of salt on their food while you sit there pretending to be innocent!) But being assertive means knowing my truth, using my voice calmly but firmly, stating my preferences. I may like this, but not that. This warms my heart, but that, quite frankly, no offense, but it just...does...not. Never has.
It's like weinerschnitzel. Suppose a German friend wants to treat you to dinner at a German restaurant. You're not crazy about weinerschnitzel and saurkraut, but you go and eat, just to be nice, and when prepared just right, the dish may not be all that bad, even slightly tasty, in a quirky way. But definitely not something you want to eat every day. or even more than once a year. So the next time your German friend asks to go there again, you politely but firmly say NO, you'd rather not. that simple.

And while we're speaking of power over words, I couldn't help but bring up some of my favorite lyrics from a favorite song again, as I put it to music on my first try at a GarageBand app music recording. (yeah, that's me & my guitar in the background, behind all the echo-y effects and layers of percussion..) I'm just learning to play with this very cool app, so this is very amateur; I'll be working on these some more in the future.. so here's the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0DjNp5kuvJg
(hope that link works for ya..it's a very short snippet, and in case you can't hear what i'm saying..


"2 am and I'm still awake writing this song, if I get it all down on paper it's no longer
Inside of me, threatnin' the life it belongs to..."


love it. love words. don't love weinerschnitzel.
Guten nacht!!!

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choose your suffering

I almost chose not to blog today. To take revenge on that happy internet cloud in the sky, as if it has anything to do with the darkness in my heart. Just didn't feel inspired. Like my muse has spread its wings and flown up, up, up into the sky. gone. But as I settled into my Body Pump class, and stood at the back of the room, staring at the rack of weights staring back at me, I remembered that discipline means working at something even when you don't feel like it. And that getting these words onto this blank screen is like facing that rack of weights and deciding, how do i like my suffering? Do I choose to be a pansy and not even use any weights on my bar? Stick with the same weights I've been using thus far, since I'm fairly comfortable in that place now? Or do I reach out for the heavier weights today, even if I don't feel a stinkin bit like doing it at all. And so I also choose to develop my writing muscles, but more than that, to get these words out of me. Like if I can just put a shape and a form to this expression of...whatever this stuff is inside me, put it into words, it can no longer control me. I have power over it when I put it into words.

To quote Anna Nalick, (her song Breathe): "If I get it all down on paper it's no longer inside of me, threatnin' the life it belongs to...."

Not many areas in my life where I feel like I have any power, so here's where I"ll choose my suffering.

Suffering through the journey, that is. I'm not in this for a big happy party with cake and balloons at the end. No big rah rah rah, no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. no celebration. am i just a glutton for pain? sometimes i think maybe i am. but no. what prods me on this lonely journey is just to stand in that place of peace. freedom. wholeheartedness. no pretending. Definitely not a journey I ever looked forward to. In fact, I avoided it for years, denied that I even needed it. and sometimes it feels like crap.

As I heft my bar up, over my head and rest it on my shoulders for the squats & lunges track, this position reminds me of how Jesus must've felt as he carried that heavy cross on his back. But not just a few neatly balanced, shiny weights in a gym for Him. Nope. He had the weight of the world's sin as his burden. And did He choose to take off a few weights, make the burden lighter? He could've. Just changed his story a little bit, and he'd get out of it. But He did not. He chose his suffering. " Like a lamb that is led to slaughter, And like a sheep that is silent before its shearers, So He did not open His mouth. " Isaiah 53:7

Body Flow class. Summertime Sadness is the song that gets me. just that line. what happens when summer is over. write a new song, i guess.

 

there. it's out of me.

 

"cause these words are my diary screamin' out loud

and i know that you'll use them, however you want to..."

(Anna Nalick)

 

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addendum

ok, I know that after the beginning of my last post, I left some of you hanging there, really disappointed that I didn't rattle off more synonyms for the word vomit. So, for your dining pleasure, and with a little help from thesaurus.com, here's a more complete list:

vomit, cascade, plunge, eject, emit, belch, bring up, expel, gag, hurl, puke, retch, ruminate, gush, upchuck, disgorge, tumble, hem, spill, hawk, whoop, expectorate, bark.

you're welcome. :-D

 

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Dancing heart

 

"It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance." ~ Bette Midler

I've always known that I was a dancer....

and i will update this later... i just got done bingeing on a boatload of awesome art & dance quotes, am feeling that line between nausea & ecstasy from this overload and will soon be needing to regurgitate, blow chunks, heave, ralph, spew....oh, sorry, got carried away, see, my kids are both sick with a virus so I've got vomit on the brain... ahem. I will soon need to share these wonderful quotes with you. thank you. later.

ok, maybe just a few spit-ups:

"He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying." -Nietzschke

"It takes an athlete to dance, but an artist to be a dancer." -(unknown)

"Dancers are the athletes of God." -Albert Einstein

"Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music." -Nietzsche

So I've always known I was a dancer. Unfortunately we couldn't afford formal dance training when I was a kid, so it wasn't until I went to college that I really began to chisel my already formed block of stone into a dancer. The artist-dancer was already inside, but the athlete-dancer had yet to be created. Dance became more than the consumer of my time and finances; it became an obsession. Spent most my classroom hours in the campus dance studio, while keeping my education major just to please the parents, keep up the "practical" side.. Dreamed of it, read the biographies of all the great modern dance pioneers like Martha Graham, Isadora Duncan, Twyla Tharpe, Alvin Ailey. Auditioned and performed a little in college theater, finally graduated....after 6-and-a-half-years. Had to face the fact that starting dance so late meant little chance of a performing career but still opportunities in dance education. Taught at a few dance studios, ballet, jazz, ballroom, modern,...then for a few years full-time in the public schools. My real dance passion was fulfilled when I found a dance ministry at my church, where my love for dance combined with my spiritual passion. Dancing with the group was very satisfying, but the real highlight came when my pastor's wife asked me to choreograph and dance a solo at their youth camp! It was to a song by Nicole Nordman, I think, forget which one, maybe it was someone else? Anyway, I really poured my heart into that piece, made it my own, and felt so much love and freedom performing it that night. Loved the response of all the sweet little girls at the camp. Could've stuffed them into my duffel bag and started a dance school with them all. What really threw me for a loop was when one of the musicians of the worship team told me afterwards, that my dance brought tears to his eyes. whoa, didn't know how to respond to that, so i laughed it off, sort of rude, i know. But that's what dance or any kind of art is supposed to do. Draw out the tears, make your heart vulnerable to breaking. I miss that. I need to find my niche in art again, so I can keep on breaking my heart in a socially acceptable form. That's why I love the quote at the top of this page by Bette Midler:

"It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance."

Gotta keep dancing.

and that's my hiccup for now... :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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