What if I quit?

I was tossing an idea around recently. I considered calling the blog done and gone for good. One day, I just woke up a week or so ago and realized that I just didn't care about much of anything. Is my house clean? I don't care. Have my dogs been for a walk? I don't care. Am I going to be late to work? I don't care. Did I brush my teeth? I don't care. I thought I wanted to teach Punk Rope? I don't care. Didn't I just decide that I wanted to be a writer? I don't care. Everything just felt meaningless.

The first follow-up idea I had to this line of irrational thinking was PMS. Depression? No. Stress? Perhaps. I have had a lot of interesting things happening in my life lately that could potentially elicit the stress response. Instead of trying to pinpoint the issue though, I just decided to write it off as a slump. Yes, I found myself in a slump. How I got there is another discussion all by itself but I'm very  happy to report that the slump of 2010 is now over and the world can go back to the way it is meant to be. You like how important I am that when I'm in a slump, the world feels the effects? Ya, I didn't think so. *wink*

I had to ask myself all the questions in a situation like this. What if I quit? What if I said goodbye to my blog and the awesome community that I love so much? Would I miss it? Would I regret it? Would I resent it? How would I feel about myself? What would I gain? What would I lose? Is it worth it? What do I really want? Will leaving the blog get me closer to or further away from what I want? What about those of you out there who I don't want to let down? Oh and they just kept on coming. All the questions. Oye!

Of course I had to answer the questions. How else was I to get to the bottom of this mess? I mean really?

I will admit that in the answering phase, I did throw myself a little pity party but, BUT I was absolutely certain to also be the voice of reason because no pity party can go unregulated. That would just be insanity. It's a good thing that Officer Lyn was on duty too because Salina's pity party of one would have spun quickly out of control. It would have been like Eeyore and Taz tag-teaming. Not a pretty sight. Trust me on that.

What I eventually came to was that quitting the blog would just be stupid. I've been doing this self indulgent activity for a year now and although I tried really hard to ignore all the good things I've experienced from it, they're just too many and too good to ignore.

• I've lost 20 lbs and kept it off.
• I've successfully become an active person. I went from couch potato to having too many activities and interests to do in the time allotted.
• I've met a few absolutely fantastic people out there. You know who you are and I thank god for you on a regular basis.
• I found the Artist's Way which has ridiculously changed my life in all good ways.
• I'm writing. Um...I'm writing. I never considered myself a writer before, I always thought that I would have to have a book on the shelf at Barnes and Noble before I could claim that title but I was wrong. I AM A WRITER. Book or no book. Paycheck or no paycheck. I write, I love it, it makes me happy. I'm a writer.
• A little something something of mine will be published soon. Thanks to Jules for daring (believing in) me and to Suzette for giving me the amazing opportunity.
• I'm finally Auntie Salina to my brother's kids. After 2 years, I finally found my way back into his life so I can be the sister I've not been to him for a decade and the Auntie that his kids need and I need to be.
• I found and fell in love with racquetball, roller skating and derby, Punk Rope, and Jenny.
• And I've hopefully done some good too. Leaving comments on blogs out there, I hope I've created a few smiles. And through my posts, I hope I've demonstrated that facing our fears and our inner demons can only bring joy.

Also, I started the blog to chronicle my experience from fat and lazy to healthy and active. I'm no longer fat and lazy but my journey is not yet complete either. I still have another 40lbs to lose and a huge list of activities that have yet to be attempted. If I don't do them, who will? There I go, throwing my importance around again. *You know that's tongue-in-cheek, right?* I still haven't made the Punk Rope thing totally real yet. I still haven't returned to the flat track in roller derby yet either. Jenny has been waiting out the Seattle rain to get back out there and discover the city in her two-wheeled gloriousness. So many things to do...I can't quit now.

What if I were consistent?

I would be unstoppable if only I could manage a certain amount of consistency in my actions. Instead, I am gung-ho off the start and burn myself out shortly thereafter. I do this with everything in life. I've done this with school, with reading, with fitness, with writing, with friends, with family, with playing the guitar, with work, with self care, with blogging, with everything. Yes my way allows me to gather many experiences that others might not be able to have if they're focused on one thing for an extended duration of time but it also sets me up for disappointment. 

Lately, I've found myself in one of those ebb portions of the cycle. For the past two weeks, I've had a lackluster interest in just about everything. Friends are getting on my nerves (hurting my feelings), family is in my life and not in my life and it's all very confusing for me. I haven't tracked any of my food or my fitness. I haven't been writing or journaling like I prefer. I haven't been cooking or sleeping or reading or exercising very much. I haven't been reading any of your fabulous blogs out there that I usually look forward to on a daily basis. I just haven't been fully participating in my own life.

What if I were to consistently do those things that I know make me happy? What if I read every day? What if I wrote every day? What if I cooked whole, healthful foods everyday? What if I exercised every day? What if I got 8 hours of sleep every night?

What would my world look life I did those things more regularly?

First and foremost, I think I'd be consistently happier. That's a no-brainer. I'd have more energy. I might take more notice of my surroundings and have a deeper appreciation for the goings on in my world. I might pay closer attention to the journey and not find myself so focused on the destination. I might lose more weight. I might find more joy in my friendships. I might realize more success in this blog and in my work. I might actually sleep better if I maintained consistency in the other areas. I might just be a better person for myself and for those that I care about.

What would your world look like if you were more consistent?

What-if we were all honest

Yesterday, I met some people. New people. I'm usually an easy going kind of person and am willing to accept whoever for whatever they are as long as they don't push their beliefs on me. But sometimes, every great once in a while, I have a strong reaction to new people. I get an overwhelming sense about someone that I just can't ignore. It's either an intense dislike for them or I decide immediately that we're kindred spirits.

I had a strong reaction to one person I met. The moment they entered the room, before they had even gotten close to me or in view, I had a feeling in my gut. It was like the muscles in my stomach all decided to hit the deck at once. Then the hair stood up on my neck. I swallowed the huge knot in my throat and scrunched my face in disgust as though I was rejecting a fowl smell.

My first impression was not a favorable one both intuitively and with what little interaction there was.

This person just happens to be a "friend" of one of my friends. I haven't been asked for my opinion on this person as is typically the tradition in friendville so I'm still safe. But it got me thinking...what on earth am I suppose to say to my friend if/when I'm asked for that opinion?

Am I to be honest? Or am I to give what I think is necessary to protect the friendship?

To be a good friend, I would have to say that I must be honest with my friend. When I ask people's opinions, I expect them to tell me the truth. If someone knew that my husband was being unfaithful or lying about something, I would hope that a friend would tell me. I know not everyone thinks like I do though. Others avoid the truth at all costs. They avoid the truth in others and they avoid the truth in themselves.

That brings me to another thought. What if we were all honest with ourselves?

Part of what I don't like about this new person is that I perceive them as being so insecure that they try and I emphasize TRY to put on a front of being tough and cool. I respect real people. People with flaws and strengths. People with opinions based on self awareness and education. I do not respect people who wear a mask. This person wears a very flimsy mask.

How can we as fallible creatures be expected to be honest with others when we can't even be honest with ourselves?

What if we were all just honest with ourselves about who we are and what we think, feel, and believe?

How would your life be different if you chose to face the truth about who you are?

What if I chickened out?

A few days ago, I started surfing online for organized bike rides around the Puget Sound area where I live and work. My expectation was that I would find a few but that I would have already missed them due to the rainy season upon us up here in the great Pacific Northwest. I was happily mistaken though. I found one in particular that was happening just down the street from me and it took place this past weekend. Without even thinking about it (or considering the weather report) I jumped. I registered myself and Jenny and we were ready to go.

Then I thought about it. I asked a couple friends if they wanted to go with me. They turned me down. I looked at the weather report and it called for rain, rain, and more rain. I don't have rain gear. I was invited to my grandmother's 80th birthday party the same day. I would most definitely be late to arrive. The course description for the 25 mile ride said to expect slight rolling hills. Jenny only has 7 gears and she's not so easy to maneuver up any steep hills and in my neck of the woods, "rolling hills" usually means "minor mountains". All of a sudden, I saw obstacles appear before me to pursue what I was originally excited about doing.

Here they come. Here come the self doubt, negative self talk thoughts again. I have no idea what I'm doing for an organized ride. Never done it before. And no one will go with me. What if I can't make it? What if it rains all over me? Do I really want to be soggy wet and miserable? What if I can't make it up the "rolling hills"? What if something breaks on my bike and I don't know how to fix it? What if I make a complete fool of myself? What if I stick out like a sore thumb because I'm surrounded by a bunch of northwesterners who live a bike life? You know the ones, the people who wear their full bicycle gear with their aerodynamic helmets, matching spandex outfits, and clicky shoes to the grocery store. What if I'm the only non bicycle obsessing freak there and they all point and laugh? What if they're all snooty eastside housewives who have private bicycle trainers and hire nannies so they can ride their bicycles with Mr. Rock Hard Abs?

But....there's the other side of the brain that started calling out the sissy in me. RIDICULOUS! What if I choose to stay home where it's warm and dry and comfortable? How proud am I going to be of myself? What about the money I spent on it? So what if it rains? Hello....I live in SEATTLE. It rains here. Big deal. So what if I do it alone, I'm a big girl. Since when have I ever been worried about being judged before? No need to start now. What if it will be fun? What if it will be one of those tiny little opportunities I've committed myself to take advantage of? What if I allow myself to chicken out?

Guess who won the argument?



Cheerleaders...and I didn't steal any pompoms



See the bell? I got a bell....finally. Love!

Funny. I couldn't go that fast if I was full speed down hill.

My flower. We all got flowers at the rest stop.

Soaking wet from one of the torrential rain showers

Just a flowery house somewhere

Look for the W with the directional indication so as not to get lost

Not sure if he was part of the ride volunteer staff or if he was just a cool guy beating drums under a bridge.

What if I finish the thing?

I ended up with a basket full of flowers because I picked up all the ones that others dropped

Notice the derby helmet, Via Spiga rain trench, and poka dotted rubber boots aka RAIN GEAR. I made do with what I had. I got soaked anyway but it was soooooo worth it.

This ride was by far the most challenging yet. I'd never done 25 miles before. I'd never done an organized ride before. I'd never ridden with traffic before. I'd never ridden by myself before. I'd never ridden in the rain before. I'd never done so many hills before. I'd never been so proud of myself for doing what would have been so easy to avoid before.

I can't even imagine missing the opportunity to feel about myself how I feel after having done this.

What if you face your fears and end up getting everything you ever wanted?