Today I went to a church in Phoenix (this was my 2nd time going). This month’s message is based on the book You Are a Badass by Jen Sincero! Uhhh hello! Who doesn’t want to go to that kind of church?
Today’s message was all around embracing change. I felt called to share a little more about my story of a variety of changes in the past 5 years and how things ended up changing for the better even when I couldn’t see it at the time.
Many of you have known me since I became a Beachbody coach in 2014. It was when my entrepreneurial journey really took off. Before that, I began my very first business creating individualized meal plans. I had a passion for helping those who wanted to live healthy lives but felt overwhelmed by planning and budgeting.
I eventually stopped because there was only one of me and I was limited in how many people I could serve, which is why I then dove head first into health and wellness coaching. I loved having a larger platform in which I could share my message.
A year ago, I quit Beachbody coaching.
I quit because I saw way too many of my clients “falling off the wagon” due to not working through their mindset and the bullshit stories that were holding them back from seeing long-lasting success.
I didn’t become a coach to help my clients get a quick fix, leaving them back at square one and feeling like they had somehow failed.
I spent the next year really honing in on what my clients needed, where they were struggling, and how I specifically help them get long-lasting results.
In the past year, I have gotten crystal fucking clear on who I am, what my gifts are, and how I serve. And…I’m really fucking good at what I do!
This past year (and all the ups and downs I have experienced) has truly served me in order to fully serve you.
When I came to Atlanta (I’m here again this weekend) in February to visit a dear friend of mine, i heard about a new program that Beachbody was coming out with…
A mindset program that focused solely on nutrition, NON deprivation, and honed in on emotional eating.
It was this program, specifically, that made me realize, “My clients need access to the tools that I’ve been using since 2014.” My clients are never required to use Beachbody products, but I felt like having these tools to offer my clients was the final missing piece in my toolbox of powerful tools for long-term, lifelong success.
I feel so passionately about the power of this program that I’ve decided to offer a 90-day group (the length of the program) AND offer additional coaching services of mine FOR FREE during the duration of the 90 days.
What it looks like:
*A Facebook group open for 90 days
*2B Mindset program
*Weekly live calls with me in the group for the duration of the 90 days
*Daily support & accountability
*solidified morning routine that focuses on your body, mind, and soul (what I start all my 1:1 clients with)
**option to add on Shakeology (a superfood supplement I’ve been using daily since 2014)
**option to add on hundreds of at-home workouts
We start on May 14th!
If you’re interested (or if you have additional questions), send an email to anne@annelivingstoncoaching.com (subject: 2B Mindset
**cannot be working with another BB coach
Much love,
Anne
In my virtual classroom, I coach through song lyrics. Today I used the song I’ll Find You by Lecrae.
As I was sharing my story, I kept hearing, “You need to share this publicly” and yet, I didn’t want to just copy and paste what I shared with them because they get a different raw and real version of me.
So here I am trying to share this in a way that feels authentic, knowing someone reading this needs to hear exactly what I have to say.
You know I live on the road.
You know I took a leap of faith in July to do so.
You’ve seen the struggles and the highlights, but to some, I may look like Wonder Woman who has some kind of superhuman strength.
There’s more to the story.
I was supposed to be in Mississippi for 3 weeks and I stayed for 8 months. I stayed out of fear.
I was taught to have months of income saved up before quitting jobs, moving to a new place, making big life changes, etc.
Selling all your shit and living on the road is not something people in my family did so I didn’t have a blueprint for what that looked like or what I was supposed to do.
I just kept hearing fear, “You can’t leave. You don’t have enough saved up.”
I gave into the fear, hardcore. With that fear came some of the worst financial struggles of my life. What happens when you focus on fear, worry, and worst-case-scenarios? They manifest in your reality.
I was working with a coach at the time who had done something similar and she kept saying, “You’re safe. You’re supported. It’s safe to move forward.” But I didn’t believe her. So I stayed in Mississippi. Frozen in fear and watching my worst-case-scenarios come to life.
October to mid-January were some of the darkest months of my life. Friends and family knew, but I refused to talk about it because I finally decided I was done talking about “what is”.
I decided for the first time in my life to really go inward in a way I never had before and get to know God.
I woke up almost every morning with fear and anxiety waiting for me.
When the uncertainty and pressure refused to let up, I consistently broke down into tears.
I could not see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I pulled away from friends because I had to. I was deep in the dark night of the soul. I knew there was nothing anyone could say to me that would help me.
This was between me and God.
I knew there was a God. I believed in him/her/it. But I didn’t have the faith, yet, that the rug wouldn’t be pulled out from under me.
At the beginning of April, when I was prepping to leave, one more huge wave of contrast stared me straight in the face and I had a come to Jesus moment with God. I prayed for clarity and clarity came in the middle of a live meditation in my virtual classroom.
It was in that moment, I knew everything was going to be okay. I still had no clue how, but I told God I would continue to listen and trust if he/she/it would continue to support me and keep me safe.
To you, I may look like a woman with superhuman strength.
I’m only able to do this BECAUSE of my relationship I built with God.
When I say I know your fears…I know your fears.
When I say it will be okay…it will be okay.
When I say you need to take that leap…take the leap but KEEP MOVING.
The reason showing up for yourself on a body, mind, and soul level is so important is because it is in those moments you meet God, you connect with God, and you trust God.
That is THE relationship in your life that is going to get you through any shit storm you happen to go through.
That is your compass.
That is your light.
Connect to it and follow where it leads you.
Much love,
Anne
Are you needing additional guidance when it comes to your own personal self-care routine and learning HOW to love yourself?
I know exactly how you feel. The journey of learning how to love myself seemed like it took forever. I understood the importance of loving myself, but I couldn’t understand how to do that.
I’m giving you the how.
Grab my document below where I share with you:
*Why self love
*How to start a self-care routine
*The importance of feeling your feelings
*How to work with triggers
It’s the day after my first full marathon and I’m sitting here, still wearing my medal, with so many emotions flowing through my body. It almost feels like yesterday was a dream, except for the fact that my body is still trying to heal from what I just put it through.
The weekend before, I was an emotional mess. I wrote about all those emotions in my previous blog. The week leading up to leaving for Chicago, I was an anxious mess. There were some logistics I was still trying to nail down and a few plans didn’t get solidified until last minute. The morning I was set to leave, I still felt a mix of relief for heading to Chicago and complete anxiety for all the unknowns that I was about to encounter.
Three hours into my drive, I encountered car troubles. There was a warning light that came on and since it was a rental, I had no clue what it meant. I pulled off of the interstate to a gas station in order to look in the manual to see what the light meant. It showed me that there was something going on with the tire pressure gauge. I took a look at all the tires and the front right tire had lost a lot of air, and it looked as though the tire was pulling away from the hubcap. I immediately called the rental car company to see what my options were. When I explained to them that I wasn’t sure it would make it to another location in order to swap out cars, they told me to go to the Walmart Tire Center across the street to get air in it so I could drive a mile. When I pulled into Walmart, I was told there was a knot in the tire and it was about to blow. They were very clear that I should not be driving on it. I ended up waiting for about 40 minutes for a new car to come in order to swap out and be headed out on my way again. By the time I got to Chicago, I had been traveling for 14 1/2 and I was exhausted.
I slept really well my first night and then anxiety hit almost immediately the next morning. I decided to go to the Marathon Expo my first day, so that I could get my stuff for the race out of the way. I noticed how quickly anxiety and nerves set in as I started to look into how to get there. I all of a sudden felt like a tourist in my former home. I took the train downtown, where there were shuttles going to the Expo. When I got there, I followed the crowd upstairs to get my race packet and to look around. A friend of mine had told me about a video there where it’s the entire course sped up so you see exactly what it looks like. I watched it a couple times and each time I thought of running it and not knowing how it would actually feel, I felt more and more nauseous. I walked around the expo feeling a little lost. There were lots of people there, lots of different booths and things to look at, and I chose to just aimlessly wander around. I walked past different backgrounds where you could take your picture. My first thought was, “I don’t have anyone to take my picture. I’ll just skip it.” Deep down, though, I really wanted a picture taken with my bib. I chose to stand in line and ask a stranger. Luckily, there was another woman who got in line with me and was also alone. She looked at me and immediately said, “I’ll take your picture if you take mine?” Done!
On Saturday, I took my sweet ass time in the morning, not really doing much. My friend asked if I wanted to go out for brunch. We went to one of our favorite cafes where I was able to get amazing gluten-free buckwheat blueberry pancakes. I again tried to remain present. I so badly wanted to enjoy my time in Chicago and yet, I was so incredibly anxious. I felt nauseous and told him I had such a hard time staying present in our conversation. I didn’t want to wish away my time there and yet, all I could do was think of Sunday. “Do you want to do anything? Is there anywhere you want to go or anything you want to do while you’re here?” I couldn’t even focus. “No. Not really.” We went shopping afterwards to grab a few things for dinner, and then went home and just walked a bit around the neighborhood and relaxed.
Sunday was surreal, and still is. I know that writing about it isn’t going to give an accurate picture of what it is like to accomplish something like that. Writing helps me process, though. I woke up after only 4 hours of sleep, completely awake. I actually slept pretty well, given my anxiety levels in the days prior to the race. The oddest thing, though, was that on Sunday there was no anxiety. I’m not sure if my body knew it would be able to put it into the race or if my body had just had enough. I calmly drank my coffee and ate my eggs and avocado. I got ready for the race, grabbed my stuff, and left for the train.
I was kind of grateful the lines for the bathroom at Grant Park were so long. It allowed me to stand in line for an hour before the race instead of anxiously waiting in the corral. My wave officially started while I was still in line for the bathroom (the lines were REALLY long and slow) but the only consequence was: go to the end of the wave after the corral closed. Well…given that my corral was the last one, I wasn’t too worried about going to the end. As I entered my corral, the crowd of people was slowly inching forward. I threw off my t-shirt I was wearing over my tank top and was ready to go!
I was still experiencing a lot of doubt around whether or not I was capable of completing it. I mean, I knew I COULD but what would it actually feel like? The longest I had technically run was 18.5 miles. What would the extra 8 miles feel like? I had people watching/tracking me everywhere! Did anyone have any expectations around how long it would take me? As I started, it felt very much like my typical race running through downtown Chicago. I’m not sure it ever truly hit me that I was running a marathon.
The beginning of the race sounded like this in my head, “Am I going slow enough? I know I’m supposed to pace myself. It is a marathon, after all. What happens if I run/walk early on versus running until I can’t run anymore and then implement run/walk? That probably would have been a good thing to know BEFORE starting the marathon. Well…too late! I’m doing this shit now.”
Then the math started. “A 5k is easy. Wait the Shamrock Shuffle is only 8k? What’s the point of that? I’m more than halfway to my first spot to take a picture for Facebook. 6 miles! Only 3 more of those and I’m ALMOST to the end. 4 more miles until I see friends. 4 more miles is just over a 5k and a 5k is so easy.”
At mile 10, two of my friends were there cheering me on. Mac was literally jumping up and down, clapping his hands! As I met up with them, Mac started to join me in running around the corner, “I told Tim I was going to run with you for a minute and then meet him on the other side. How are you feeling? See you at mile 23!”
Oh my God. Mile 23 felt so long compared to mile 10. But then I started with the math again. “You’re at mile 10. 3 miles away from halfway done and right now, you’re only 13 miles away from seeing Tim and Mac again. No problem!”
When I got to mile 13, my legs were beginning to feel what I was about to really put my body through. I had flashbacks to my half marathon last year, and I was really proud of how far I had come. I remembered hitting mile 10 in the half marathon and I felt like I had hit a fucking wall. I remembered at mile 10 my thoughts were, “Never again!” But then, when I crossed the finish line at 13.1 all the pain went away and I was addicted. Mile 13 out of 26.2 felt much different. My legs were starting to feel what I was doing and my left foot was reminding me that I started 13 miles previously with a pain on the top of my foot. I was barely sweating, even though the temperature was beginning to rise. I realized later how dehydrated I was but I didn’t think anything of it because I was drinking water and Gatorade at every hydration station.
Mile 19.
Mile 19 was a bitch. What I find funny is that later when re-watching the video of the course, mile 19 was my ex’s area of town. I had no clue while I was walking through it. I tried really hard to be present through the entire thing, but I was really just in my head trying to coach myself through the whole damn thing. By the time mile 19 hit, my lower back was killing me. I had to pull off to the side and just start stretching. I did everything I could to stretch my lower back and tell myself I only had 7 miles left. 7 miles? That’s nothing! 7 miles had become a leisurely run. One more mile and I could take another picture to show FB I was still doing it and still alive. “Just one more mile and then you’re in the homestretch. One more mile and then you’re in the true last part of the marathon. You can do this.”
At mile 20 I texted my dad and step-mom, “19 was tough!”
They responded, “Wow! So glad to hear from you! We’re following on the app!! You’re incredible!! One mile at a time! You are awesome.”
I hadn’t really planned on texting my ex, but I knew he’d be tracking, “Mile 19 was a bitch!”
“But you made it through!”
From mile 20 to 26.2, the sun was strong. Everyone was telling me how gorgeous the weather looked. Yeah…but when you have an almost 20 degree difference from start to finish, you definitely feel the effects of it all. I got to mile 23 and saw my friends again, jumping up and down. “Yayyyy!!! Great job! We’ll see you at the end!”
My friend later told me, “It’s so annoying to hear the other spectators saying, ‘You’re almost there! You’re almost to the end!’ No you’re not! You still have 3 miles!”
“Yeah, but, when you’ve already gone 23 miles, to go another 3 miles DOES feel like you’re almost to the end. Until you hit mile 25.”
One of the spectators said, “Michigan Avenue is right up there. Once you turn, you’re in the homestretch!”
I turned onto Michigan Avenue and thought, “You’re in the homestretch. Only 3 miles left to go. You can do this.” I started to run, feeling like I truly was in the homestretch. By the time I got to mile 25, though, my body was like, “What the fuck? How long is this homestretch?” The worst part? I think it’s around mile 26 when you REALLY are in the homestretch that then you have to go up an incline. I’m sorry, but what the actual fuck IS that? That final 5k was definitely the longest 5k of my entire life. There was no “easy” about it.
Once you see the finish line, though, oh man. There’s nothing like it. My body was like, “Nooooooo. You are not about to make me run that shit! Do you know that I just ran 26 miles?” My mind was all like, “No, this’ll be fun! You can rest later. Let’s go!” And I just started running! I heard the names being announced as they crossed the finish line, as well as where the runners were from. I did all that work to be announced as “Anne Peters from Mississippi”?? Oh hell no. Well, the Universe clearly heard me because I didn’t get announced at all! Apparently that’s what I get for bitching in my head about how I’d be announced.
Once I got past the finish line, I was greeted with my medal, a wet washcloth, a bag of ice, and a bag of goodies (most of which I could not eat, as they weren’t gluten free). As soon as I got my bag from bag check, I immediately dropped to the ground to take off my shoes and put my flip flops on. Although I had gone a size bigger in my shoes, my shoes still ran slightly smaller than a size larger and my second toe on my right foot had been rubbing the top of my shoe for who knows how long. It was extremely tender and the jury was out as to whether or not I would be keeping that toenail.
It ended up taking me just over a week to finish this blog. The emotional rollercoaster that followed was real. Physically, it only took me about a day to recover. The day after, I was so incredibly sore that morning I was on the verge of tears. Later that day, it felt just like I had had an intense workout (which clearly I did). The next day, as I was prepping to leave Chicago, I was up and down stairs like it was no big deal. Even driving 12 hours was completely doable.
Emotionally, it was a completely different story. I wore my medal for days after the race; it started to feel almost like a security blanket. It was this surreal experience where I knew I ran a marathon and I knew I had just put my body through something extreme, but everyone else around me was just going through their normal day-to-day life. I had been preparing my body for almost 5 months (as well as my mind for 10 months) and then one day it was just over. There’s no other way to put it except to explain it as an extreme loss. The medal helped to remind me it was real. I don’t wear it on a daily basis, but I still sleep next to it.
A friend of mine who has run multiple marathons (and who also recently left Chicago) checked on me often. I was explaining to her that it wasn’t just the marathon being over; it was also the fact that for the days I was in Chicago, it felt as though my 5 years there never existed. There was no evidence of the life I had created there. “It’s like you immediately need another huge and quantifiable and attainable goal like another race.”
This is a perfect example of how our past only ever exists in our minds. From what I could tell, I never lived in Chicago. I was never married. I hadn’t made any new friends. I was never a teacher or a nanny. I hadn’t had an incredibly important relationship. It only existed in my memories – in my mind. Now that I’m on the other side of the marathon, it’s one more thing that exists in my mind. If it weren’t for the medal next to me every night and every morning, it would just slip back into my mind with the rest of my life’s memories.
I find it to all be so interesting, given that I just got rid of all of my stuff 2 1/2 months ago because I had no emotional attachment to my 2 bedroom apartment full of stuff and yet this one medal has more emotional significance than anything else in my life and I can’t fully express in words why.
Maybe it’s because it’s fully mine. No one else bought it for me. I didn’t depend on anyone else to accomplish something so large. It was my body and my mind. I trained. I showed up for myself daily. I financially invested in myself in order for it to happen. I did it against all the odds that had been stacked up against me, physically, my entire life.
I know I’ll run more marathons throughout my life, but nothing will ever compare to what it took to accomplish the first one.
Tonight I started to think about how tomorrow is my final long run (*only* 7 miles) before the marathon next Sunday. As I thought of the entire journey of marathon training leading up to tomorrow and then realizing in just over a week it will all be over, I started to get really teary. I thought it was just excitement. I thought it was just pride. I thought it was just that realization of, “Wow, Anne. You did it. You fucking did it. Calf injury and all, you made it.”
I went on with my night, ready to fully enjoy it.
I came downstairs and the sadness returned. “Why am I so emotional? What is up?” I wanted to text him. I wanted to tell him what I was going through. I wanted to connect with him on something we could both relate so deeply to. But I didn’t. Instead, I sat here and cried. I chose to get curious about what I was feeling. Then I realized what it was.
I’m alone. Like really fucking alone.
Last year when I applied for the Chicago Marathon, I was in a relationship. I was in a long-term, gonna last forever, love each other until the end of time relationship. I was so nervous about submitting my info for the marathon that I didn’t even tell him. I did it while I was at my part-time nanny job and then I texted him.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I just applied for the Chicago Marathon!”
“You did??”
He was a runner. He ran last year and my dad and I supported him. It was while I was at the marathon that I fell in love with the thought of something I said I would NEVER do and thought, “What the hell? Let’s see if I get picked.”
“If you get picked (which you will) I’m not going to run it. I want to be there to fully support you.”
December 13th I received the email I had been accepted, almost a month after we had officially taken a break from our relationship. The morning I received the email felt very similar to tonight. Extreme excitement and pride, mixed with deep sadness. Although we hadn’t officially broken up at that point and I prayed every night we would get through it, we didn’t.
I still had hope, though, that we would somehow make it out on the other side together. I thought, “It’s almost a year away. Anything can happen.” Almost a year later, and I’m no longer living in Chicago anymore.
I shared the news with my family and I thought, “At least my dad will be there. He was there to help me cheer on my ex so he’ll totally be there.”
“When do you go back to Italy?”
“The middle of September.”
My dad and step-mom wouldn’t be there to cheer me on.
My mom would be back in Singapore.
No one would be there.
Here’s where my old patterns get triggered.
These are the moments I would rather drink a bottle of wine than feel my feelings.
It probably has something to do with why I ate more cookies than I intended without even thinking about it.
Ego is pissed.
Ego is hurt.
Ego wants to play the victim card.
These are the moments we want to send that text to our ex, aren’t they?
I’m sharing the raw, real truth because these are so often the times we catch the pattern after the fact instead of in the middle of it.
It may not be a marathon for you, but whatever it is you know the pain I’m experiencing.
Ego = your inner child
Your inner child is hurt.
Your inner child feels unloved.
You’re wanting love and wanting it from anything and everything outside of you.
You’re wanting it from your ex.
You’re wanting it from your dad.
You’re wanting it from your mom.
You’re wanting it from the wine…
…and the cookies.
Pay close attention. This is when you have to give it to yourself.
I know it sucks.
I know it hurts.
I know it doesn’t seem fucking fair.
But love, you’re the only one you can ever count on.
You’re the only one you ever truly have anyway.
So love yourself hard.
Love yourself more fiercely than you ever have before because you deserve it.
You deserve love.
You deserve happiness.
You deserve to fucking celebrate because you have fought fucking hard for where you are today.
So cross that finish line with pride.
Cross it and know you did something you swore you would never do.
And when no one is on the other side waiting for you, bask in the journey you went on to love yourself through it all.
Then promise me you will do whatever it fucking takes to bring yourself joy because you deserve it more than you will ever allow yourself to feel.
Each disappointment and every heartache is one more opportunity to love yourself.
Today was a crazy day, as many times Full Moon days are. As a former teacher, I used to hate them because it meant the kids were crazy. Knowing what I know now, I would have incorporated meditation and rituals into the day to help the kids direct their energy. That’s not the point of this blog, though.
This morning, I woke up ready for it to be an amazing day. Today was the first day I was testing out an actual run with my calf that has been semi-injured for the past month. I’ve been testing out some really short run/walk days, but today I wanted to really see how it felt on a longer run. I headed out to explore McComb, MS. I had a route planned and was ready to explore whatever came my way. I did NOT intend to encounter 5 dogs chasing me.
First, I headed through the cemetery (as I had done many mornings before) and although many places I had seen in McComb did not have sidewalks, I was so relieved to see that heading out of the cemetery there were sidewalks on BOTH sides of the street! I headed down Pennsylvania Avenue, starting to get in the zone of how my runs used to feel, when all of a sudden I saw a small dog booking it down the street. I was completely unsure if the dog had gotten loose or what exactly was going on, but it seemed completely free and happy running down the side of the street. Just as I was admiring how carefree that dog was, a dog came up beside me and seemed much less enthusiastic. It was a white, smaller than medium-sized dog, which seemed like it could definitely use a bath. It’s fur was quite dirty, and as it ran alongside me barking, all I could think was, “Please don’t bite my calf. Please don’t bite me.” As if that wasn’t terrifying enough, 4 more dogs came running down the sidewalk after us, barking. These dogs were much smaller than the first dog that seemed to be quite unhappy with my presence. I continued to run down Pennsylvania Avenue, unsure if walking or running was a safer bet. “Could I eventually outrun them? Or would they calm down if I walked?” I started to walk for a bit and no, they were not any calmer by me walking. I crossed to the other side of the street and they followed, barking the whole way. I started to run again and there they were, chasing me and barking. By the time I crossed the second street (a little bit of a larger street), they finally stayed across the street from me and left. Apparently, they were less than pleased that I had come running through their territory.
Once I got home, I spent some time meditating, journaling, and calming down from the intense energy of how my morning started. As with any Full Moon, it became very apparent what in my life needed to be released. This Full Moon was all about relationships and forgiveness. I have been very aware in my life where I am feeling it’s still not okay to be myself, where others are still trying to place me in a box for their own comfort level. The life I’m currently living is completely non-traditional. I notice how uncertain others seem to be in the slightest ways, too, such as when others say, “Have a good trip!” as if I’m spending some time at summer camp or jetting off for a long weekend but will soon be returning to my home. Others are incredibly unsettled by me not being settled. The thing is, I’m not settled from THEIR perspective. I’m actually incredibly settled. My soul is settled. My soul is calm, happy, and joyful. Calm, happy, joyful: that tells me I’m completely in alignment with who I am and what I want.
I don’t want to live an average life. I don’t want to get stuck in the mundane day-to-day get up, do the same shit, “It’s Wednesday night, time to go to yoga”, and then end my evening scrolling Facebook, comparing myself to how everyone else is living their lives. I don’t want to take trips to break up the monotony. What’s wrong with my entire life just being a journey right now? Isn’t that what life is supposed to be anyway? Why are we so quick to have it figured out so we can just be bored as fuck but appear to the outside world like we have our shit together?
I’m sure to others it looks like I’m a hot mess with no fucking clue what I’m doing and I guarantee I’m happier than 100% of the people sitting back and judging what I’m doing.
We all take life so seriously, forgetting that it’s a game. We have forgotten that nothing in life is that serious. Nothing is worth getting that stressed about. Life is not as dangerous as we make it out to be. Even in the moment that I was getting chased by dogs, I knew I was fine. I knew that I was divinely protected and that I would be led to where I needed to go. I mean, I had my Wearsafe on me “in case” something happens while I’m running, but let’s be honest….what were my friends in Chicago going to do (or even my friend here who was at work and wouldn’t be able to do anything about it anyway) if a dog bit my calf? Nothing.
I guess the point to all of this is: trust yourself. You know what it is you want to do and you don’t need anyone to validate what you already know. Stop putting your life on hold out of fear of what others will think or whether others will approve. No one else knows your calling and what’s in your soul besides you. You can’t inspire others by playing it safe. The amount of creativity that has been flowing through me recently has been incredible. I was feeling stifled in Chicago. If part of my calling is to write books, what a disservice would it be to the world if I listened to the opinions of others?
Go do your thing and let others be amazed by you.
It’s been a week since I left Chicago and I’ve already had so many realizations. Reflecting back on how I lived my life in Chicago vs on the road, I’m realizing more and more how I got so swept up into the day-to-day mundane tasks. What I really wanted was to focus on my writing and my creativity. What ended up happening was I thought of all the things I “should” be doing and I ended up frozen, Facebook scrolling, achieving nothing. There were moments I wanted to just sit back, relax, and read. I ended up reading a page and then getting up and doing mindless tasks around the apartment.
When you’re on the road, there’s no one to really answer to. I’m staying with a friend and of course, I help out around the house. I’ve been helping to cook, do dishes, go grocery shopping during the day, and naturally I do my own laundry. The vibe, though, is completely different. I don’t know exactly what it is except it’s like my soul just keeps saying, “Finally. Finally I have space to breathe. Thank you.”
What I’m also finding to be true is how much I don’t miss my stuff and how much I notice other people’s things and want to get rid of things for them (which probably wouldn’t go over too well). I know why I’ve held onto things for years, but being around other people’s things makes me wonder why they do. What memory is that thing attached to that they’re so afraid of losing if they get rid of the physical item?
Even after dwindling down my entire 2 bedroom apartment to 2 boxes and a cedar chest to store, as well as 3 suitcases, a bin, and some loose stuff that fit into a midsize SUV, I’m realizing how much more I emotionally feel I could get rid of. I still packed things into the car with the “what if” mentality. The thing is, there are very few things that we actually NEED.
Of the things that I brought with me, the amount of things I ACTUALLY use on a daily basis is slim. I use one mug that says “Proceed as if success is inevitable”. I kept other mugs at my parents’ house but do I wake up daily thinking, “Man, I’m really missing that mug!”? Nope. I obviously wear my clothes, but still not as many as I packed. We tend to wear our favorites over and over again and hold onto the other items for “one day” or “just in case” or “when I fit into it again”. Let that shit go and I promise you won’t miss it. I packed a lot of books that I intend to read and then let go of, so that alone will lighten my load along the journey. Some of the bulkiest, heaviest things I brought were my weights, my foam roller, and my yoga mat. I’d love to get rid of them but I actually do use them on a daily basis. It’s not convenient to lug around stackable, heavy AF weights, but I’m grateful I didn’t get rid of them because I actually DO use them. Maybe after I’m done training for the marathon I’ll release the foam roller, but for now it’s definitely coming in handy.
People have mistaken my journey for wanting to live a minimalist lifestyle or wanting to live in a tiny house. I actually don’t have the desire for either. Right now, I’m living a minimalistic lifestyle but I still enjoy having access to more than one who is a minimalist would have in their life. I’m also a huge fan of space. This journey was not about living on as little as possible or cramping myself and my cats into a small space, it was about freedom.
I spend so much less time in my head than I did before. I spend way more time tapping into my soul and what I feel inspired to do next. I feel like for the first time I can really hear what it is I truly want. I feel like I can finally breathe. Even though from the outside looking in, it looks like things are way less “secure”, I feel more secure and taken care of than I have in a really long time. I spend less time with the anxiety grasping my chest and more time believing and trusting anything I desire is possible if I’m willing to take the next step towards it.