Originally posted 2015-11-16 17:22:51.
If not, you’re going to have to wait to find out if I hit my 500,000 steps by day 50 or not.
TUT, TUT, TUT!!! You get back up here… no scrolling ahead.
This week, I’ve come to a few realizations that I want to share, as I know some of you playing the ‘home version’ of the #100days (meaning, you’re doing it silently and privately without anyone else knowing that you’re slowly changing your life. — and by the way, I’m proud of you for wanting to change yourself and make tomorrow better!) might want to see these thought patterns and steps along the way. Before I do that, I want to address something that has been brought to my attention this week from a few different people concerned about something that I, in fact, struggle with all the time.
I was always under the assumption that I was a lonepixie out in the universe, stumbling around, trying to see where my life force was properly connected to, without much avail.
I’ve always felt that I am, though not intentionally, a polarizing kind of creature. Truth be told, I surprisingly come off fake or phony or even shallow and vapid to some. Those are the ones I allow to slip into the rear view mirror of my life story, as clearly they will never understand that being kind doesn’t have to come with strings attached, nor does my friendship.
They see the way I try to be every day, and assume it’s a facade because “no one can be that sweet all the time”. Yes, I have been told this not just online, but to my face.
For the record, I’m not always sweet.
Sometimes I am bitterpixie, grumpypixie, pointy-edges-pixie, just-throw-chocolate-from-a-safe-distance-pixie… yeah, I’m not always sunshine and rainbows.
I just CHOOSE to try to be better than how glum, depressive and ‘meh’ some people trudge through life on a daily basis as.
I don’t want to revert and hibernate. I wasn’t healthy. I REALLY wasn’t healthy.
I am beginning to surround myself (recently I left the shattered pattern of how not to be a good person in the dust of the hibernation den) in my ‘daisy petals’ if you will, with people who are positive, healthy, and moving in the same direction as me. I am finally starting to fit in on this planet. Everyone knows I’m from Pluto, along with my octopuses. You’re welcome, Earthlings. I’m usually hyper-aware of my awkward, clumsy, ill-fitting moments of reality with other mortals that make me feel less than delighted about my interactions.
Most of us make snap decisions based on the first glance, first word, etc. Don’t judge The Hobbit based solely on the minimalist tiny Smaug drawing on the hardcover first edition. Commence fangirl swoon — someday, someday my sweet Bilbo, you and I will be united. Until then, I sadly have to procure alt editions to placate the Pixie.
He’s quite the feral beastie, and definitely not one to trifle with unless you bring an army and my boy Bilbo, (shhh, lemme have my fantasy!!!).
Just like Smaug isn’t that tiny little creature depicted on the cover, no one is such a minimalistic version of themselves. As I mentioned so many weeks ago, we all wear masks. Some of us to hide the truth, others to hide from it. The point I was casually strolling towards was that we don’t always see our own value, and oft times we are the ones doing the ‘mirror snap judging’ to a massively grotesquerishly nasty way than anyone else could. I am just as guilty in this.
We can be downright cruel to ourselves in the mirror’s eye, and assess a lower value on the good we are in the universe. We are all our harshest critic, but we are also likely our biggest, meanest, foulest bully as well. No one can hurt us the way our internal Feral Felicia can. She’s still around, by the way. I’m learning to keep the muzzle on her most days, or at least on volume setting 1-2. She writes banners and mean things instead to flash before my brain’s eyes, but I’m learning to ignore those as well. I’m a work in progress.
I do fit. I fit quite well in fact. It’s fun to see how someone who you had no clue was in the same style of boat, paddling the same direction in the same ocean, reaches the same shore as you at the same time. I didn’t think I was worthy of the friendships that I have. Just like at one time, I didn’t think I deserved the cute boy’s attention, let alone love and companionship.
I’m never prepared for these BOOOOOOM! kinds of moments when they happen. I feel like I’m plopped into the middle of a comic fight scene unprepared, but instead of fighting, it’s hugs, kittens, giggles, hot chocolate and… yeah, I am really a part of something good.
This happened a few times this week, including a few times at the gym. I want to share one of those, as it was pretty special to me. I had just been sending a message to my pretty ponygirls, mentioning about two of the ladies who are at the gym that inspire me to push harder to be the best me possible, as I see their incredible motivation. I want to match that for myself.
As I’m heading out the door yesterday, the older lady, (who is rumored to have been either an Olympic runner or swimmer in the 60’s or 70’s, as both are possible), easily catches stride with me on the stairs. I don’t go very fast when I’m leaving the gym, I’m gonna be honest! She says to me, completely out of the blue, “Gotta hand it to you kiddo,” (I’m 41. I LOVE being called ‘kiddo’ – seriously, it’s a badge of honor to me. I’m instantly grinning like a crazypixie, and she’s definitely got my attention.), “…I see you in here day in and day out, and you make me proud of you. I’m so impressed with how you respect everyone, smile through the sweat, and you don’t give up. Have a good weekend, kiddo”.
She didn’t even let me respond. Just headed out the door, was in her car and driving away before I got outside. One of the muscle-guys is heading down the stairs, and hears her. He jogs down the stairs and meets up with me at the base, where I’m unmovable, flabbergasted by that kind remark.
“She’s right you know, keep up the good work!”, he says, and smiles, winks, then heads out the door.
Now I’m blushing, sweating, and laughing like a crazypixie for sure.
Yes, there’s a part of me that needs to be #1 for some things, but generally it is all about the memories I can forge and the potential goodness I can create or glean from a situation.
I don’t go to the gym to DO ALL THE WEIGHTLIFTING, or RUN ALL THE MILES. I do it because I am changing this internal mindset, life pattern, and futurepixie can thank me.
I do challenge myself – I just try to do it with a growing level of dignity, integrity and respect than I did before. I hope that I can inspire others to see beyond a “win” and look at the memories they are creating. Like how WykedCrafty, Pinghighscore, Aurakiel and I skyped for over 16 hours last Saturday and Sunday.
Those laughs were real. Those memories can’t be taken from us. We all just fit. Like a spectacular little puzzle that we are able to, and have effortlessly, expanded upon as we grow and shape the DayLites and forge new bonds of friendship and happy memories that will last.
There’s one more thing I was wanting to share with everyone.
Friday, November 13th was Day 52. Bound For Glory Tattoo shop had a special $20 Flash Tat Day. Being that the number 13 is my favourite number, I was hoping to get a 13 somewhere. There are a few reasons (8. Okay, that’s a lot) that I had to have that tattoo.
For the sake of younger and innocent eyes, I’m going to leave this purposely a bit vague for a few of them. For those who understand right away, I’m not going to explain the why’s, how’s or other not so happy details. I’m trying to share a pointed story, not a salacious gory horror.
When I got to the shop, I was way early, an hour and 13 minutes early to be exact. Yeah, one of the things about me is if I have to be anywhere and I’m not at the mercy of other people’s time-keeping abilities and skills, I am at least 1/2 hr early for everything – if not an hour early. I messaged a few of my ‘daisy petals’, and wandered around a shop for 10 minutes. Great… still over an hour to kill.
Well, at least I was first in for my tattoo. They put up the flash sheet, and I was debating between three of them. A tea cup with a string/tag with the number 13 on it, tick marks, and a lightning bolt style 13 in shadow form. Yes, I love my tea, but not enough for me to have that permanent tattoo.
Brain, stop going back to the tick marks. I see what you’re doing and I know why, but people are going to see it and… okay, you know what, brain?
“Tick marks it is”, I say to Nick Caruso, owner of the shop.
13 is the number of times I’ve tried (all but 2 were before I was 13 years old). 13 is the age I promised myself, if I reached, I was going to be “okay”. 13 is the number of tattoos I want (the fact that I got it as the 3rd tattoo is just so cool for me!). 13 my favourite number. 13 is half of my birthday (13/26). 13 is our Wedding Date (and when added together, is the month, because I’m goofy like that. 1+3=April. April 13, 2015). Doctor Who’s “The Silence” are recorded with tick marks.
Alas, only eight reasons. *shakes fist* Come on, Pixie!!! We need five more to make it 13:13!
Oh well, at least I’m elated with this tattoo. It was technically a 50 (+2) day reward for V2.0. D grabbed a calendar when we were on Skype later on Friday, and worked out when day 54 (keeping with the tradition, I’m all about making things cool like that) would be of V3.0. I was so elated, I HAVE to find a way to make this happen. March 26, 2016 will be Day 54 for me.
I HAVE to get a tattoo that day. Why? Well, it will be exactly 3 years (three again!!!) to the day that I quit smoking, and it will be the third tattoo I get for my third #100days. Uh… duh… of course that’s gotta happen!
Stats: I’m down one groan-worthy pound. Yup, I’m groaning. I was hoping by now to be way below this point, and though I’m obviously maintaining this weight, I want to be dropping.
So I’m going to reduce the fats and sugars.
I know, I’m heading in the right direction, but I am needing to show some positive changes before the snow flies around here. Time for me to become diligentpixie and own what I have to do to see the results permanently to take control of the end of this #100days, #1millionsteps.
Speaking of which, of course I hit it! YES I’m proud of myself. Way totally, awesometastically, deliciously proud of myself. I did more steps in this first 50 days, than I did in ALL of my first #100days combined.
I’m guessing adding in all my hibernation as well, easily with leftovers for the fridge.
I have to write today, to catch up for yesterday and today, but I have no worries. I have 15 days to finish, and I’m going to be just fine. I have writing Skype sprints with two of my fellow NaNoponies, (yup, I just did that), on Tuesday. Wednesday I am going to officially start typing ALL THE WORDS again.
My stats make me very happy, particularly my neck! Only two that weren’t changed from before, but I’m heading in the right direction and I’m extremely pleased with my workouts this week. I’m currently not able to reach very well today, as “chest” day is having it’s delicious achy reminder of what I did yesterday at the gym.
This week’s theme for my DayLite’s mini challenge is to work on the mental decluttering that is in connection to Week 7’s physical one.
See, what a lot of them are skipping over is that I’m showing them there is a better way to live completely. It’s not just about one less chicken wing, or having an apple instead of a chocolate bar. It’s a mental reprogramming and breaking of the nasty patterns that are comfortable and safe, then making it better for themselves tomorrow, tomorrow’s tomorrow, and a few decades worth of tomorrows as well.
Until next week, sweet readers. Be nice to your reflection, because it will be the one who walks with you always, so it’s a good idea to be your own best friend.