We could also call this one, “What’s your dream?”…have you seen the movie “Pretty Woman” because there’s a man Paul Revere-ing across the street, this whole “What’s your dream..” spiel that has stayed with me since my youth when I first saw that movie. (Towards the end of the clip above…) Obviously, Rom-coms are not life, this movie in particular is quite elastic when it comes to reality, but something I’ve been wrestling with lately somehow keeps gettting tied together in my brain with this movie.
On the 26th, I’m starting my educational study for NASM, which is the National Academy of Sports Medicine, to get two trainer certifications so I can teach again. Sort of again. I was a yoga instructor of the Ashtanga Vinyasa heated variety years ago. I’ve been a person who works out daily and loves it for most of my life. Over 17 years now to be exact. And I’m fortunate because I love to work out, love the sweat, love the challenge, love it all. I know, I’m a freak, and what I really love is helping others find their way thru the forest of misconceptions we’ll call it. I’ll write about all that another time. This all sounds superb doesn’t it? Here comes the fuckery:
I have realized unlike Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, I don’t fully believe in myself. She may have been a hooker, but she was completely in her own corner. (Yes, It’s fiction) Actually, not just that, but I have been minding my thoughts and actions lately with a Buddda like focus to try and help myself and I have decided if I’m honest with myself, I have some issues.
First, I genuinely need the assurance of others in order to feel good about myself. I had told my therapist that I’m certain that I have used relationships with men to disctract me from the scary stuff, aka, making the dream come true. Not because I didn’t care or love any of them, but I used the relationship to validate myself. Which is not good. And while I have my moments, because I’m not totally devoid of self love, they feel fleeting.
Brene Brown calls it the story we tell ourselves, and I create stories in my own mind, where people are in some way expressing that I am awesome. Usually it’s as a writer or in some form of teaching an awesome class. It’s like I have to believe that others believe in me to help myself feel better, when obviously I need to arrive at the moment where believeing in myself is enough, on my own. No grandstanding necessary.
I don’t know how I’m going to make that happen…
I had enough conviction to sign up, pay for and schedule my class start date. As it approaches, I am excited and terrified. I don’t know where this path is going, which leads to number 2, I don’t handle uncertainty well. At all. I’m working on the one thing at a time and not concerning myself with where it goes. Which is funny for someone who practices yoga because there is this thing called non-attachment which means a few things: that we are present during our experiences for the sake of the journey and not being overly invested in the end result. Also, that we can sit with our emotions and not become those emotions, that’s how we learn about who we are. We do what we do, are present in the doing and move with it…I am a walking contradiction. I know how to care for myself and I know what needs to be done, but I’m sitting here and the emotions make me feel like full bodied brick. Oh, that doesn’t make me happy with myself.
Third, I’ve also realized that my life has been orchestrated in a haphazard kind of luck of sorts. I’ve worked hard with the chances that arrived on my lap, but none of it was my dream. I enjoy my job and most of what that luck has brought, but I am invested now in a much different way.
I also dream of being a writer. Publishing a children’s book, writing great tales that stand thru time. I always thought I could be great, but I’m so not sure. I thought I was born with talent. But I’m not sure, but then I am, then I’m not. And it breaks my heart because I’ve realized now that I’m the person who’s going to have to believe because I’ve had people my whole life saying I could do anything, be anything, and yet, I have stayed comfortable and safe.
Safety was a luxury I did not have growing up and it was apparently my dream until this past year. To find safety, to find a home and be loved and now it’s not enough is it? . And I want someone to reassure me I can, but I know it’s me. It’s time to hold my own hand isn’t it? I am standing at the precipice of everything, I can feel all the true things rising inside of me and yet, I am resisting, still.
And the worst part is, what if none of it works out? Then what is there for me? I think I’ve avoided chasing these dreams because if these don’t work out, it’s all I’ve got..do you know what I mean? Do you ever think there is something else you were meant to do? Do you yearn for a different path? How do you know if your dreams are meant to be pursued?
I wonder if little birds are scared that first time they fly or if they just know they’ll make it. Are we suppose to instictively believe we can do it too? Do the mommy birds sing, leap and the net will appear to the chicks? Do they dream of flying as babies? I found this quote recently that I really like: “Live as though your life depends on it…” what’s really weird, is I find that comforting and I think that might be how they fly. Maybe it’s how any of us fly…
Oh Mopsy, I hope you are well wherever you find yourself tonight. My brave little soul.