tell yourself a different story

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"Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I choose to tell myself a different story from the one women are told. I decided I was safe. I was strong. I was brave. That nothing could vanquish me. Insisting on this story was a form of mind control, but for the most part, it worked. Every time I felt something horrible cohering in my imagination, I pushed it away. I simply did not let myself become afraid. Fear begets fear. Power begets power. I willed myself to beget power. And it wasn't long before I actually wasn't afraid." Cheryl Strayed

I was in yoga the other day loving the practice of inhaling my arms up over head while inviting in any images I wanted to flood my being and environment with. I envisioned a pale pink rose, petals unfolding like the unfolding of a story, bursting with love, light, mystery, healing, and grace. I breathed this into my body, into every cell and part of me. And I breathed out fear. Fear was what I wanted to do away with. Letting go of the fear and letting in the good stuff.

I am in a place right now where the sadness I feel, I am okay with. Sadness is a testament to love. But fear is it's negative and alluring counterpart. The sadness, I will let visit and have its way with me much like a roaring wave, allowing it to take me under since fighting it is futile, and then watch with awe as it recedes back to the horizon. I'll accept the waves washing over me encouraging them to whisk away any stagnate, stuck parts impermeable to change. I can't control the sadness, I simply can't repress it but I can learn to accept it and allow it. And when the sadness comes and then it goes, it leaves nothing but love in it's wake.

Now, fear on the other hand, well sometimes, I'll look at it. And run with it and let the what if's dance around in my hand as they whirl around stealing my attention with their grabby fingers. But often times this indulging fear leads me down a path of worry and unnecessary struggle. So the fear is a different story and one I am choosing not to give into at the moment.

After completing these particular sun salutations at yoga, I reached for the blocks to place under my hands as I stood in a forward fold and felt grateful for their presence as I laughed at myself thinking about how years ago, I would have scoffed at needing blocks. My ego thought it was a sign of weakness. But now I take all of the help I can get. And yoga as well as life is much sweeter with the support.

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a dead cockroach and a full moon

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love yourself, be who you are