Catching your light.

I am inside of deep conflict with my body, my spiritual home, the place that is where I feel all the things.

I wrestle with the ups and downs of gaining weight and losing weight and I have since I was young.

I love the freedom I feel when my body is light and less and not bloated. I get addicted to the feelings inside of controlling what I eat and how I eat. These days it has become less about dieting and more about the foods I know make me feel like my best self. But. There is always that twinge of awareness that I get a certain kind of high when I lose the weight and am not obsessing daily about how big my belly is.

And then there is my stress. When I am stressed and inside of fear and struggle I am not able to control anything. I have too much wine. I eat at strange times, late at night, long after my body needs to be fed. I ignore the foods that make me feel amazing and eat a handful of chips for a meal and then more wine later. There is always the twinge of awareness that I am pushing myself away, deeper into all the validation of why I am not worthy of better care, love, affection.

When I am in the middle, I am catching my light. I drink water. I have lots of tea in place of wine. I move my body and sweat. And I laugh, seriously the most amazing tool for feeling gorgeous. I run until my breath is heavy. I have one glass of wine. I don't berate myself for the extremes, I simply flow in the now of who I love to be.

When I am in the middle, I force myself to look through my lens each day. As though it was mandatory, like those sips of water or each breath of sleep at night. And it is in my lens that I fall back in love with my soul. And my spiritual home.

When I am in the middle, catching my light, I don't care about the scale and I start to fit into my clothes again. Without the drama of deprivation.

When I am catching my light the person who I am putting first is the one who burns out when she nurtures everyone except herself. She is learning. She is 41, and learning this. Still.

I feel embarrassed that at 41 I still struggle with my body. That it feels out of my control or too within my controlling nature. I have the deepest empathy for others, I understand and hold their struggles. With myself the forgiveness is a battle. Lose the weight, then you are lovable. Repeat. Rinse. Wash. Dry. Ring out. Damn it. Exhausting.

In the middle I call myself back. I become white space, radiating light. My light is my confidence, my sanguine, my adoration of me.

When I am catching my light, I feel sexy. I lead with my sexy. I find my sexy each day.

I am thirsty. 
Hydrating. Fueling. Moving. Loving. 
I am thirsty. 
Calling myself back. 
Catching my light. 
In the middle.

I feel embarrassed that I circle back to this place. Of discomfort. Of wanting to go back into control. I feel ashamed and then I take myself back to the the place where I feel magical and beautiful and sexy and sanguine.

The middle. And I go back into the practice, the soul work of catching my light.

This last year has been harder on my body than pregnancy or chronic pain has ever been. The wear and tear from the emotional loss of a marriage and learning to parent as a single mom and stepping into the really hard work of learning to love again is obvious. I feel panicky leaving the house. I want to hide. The parts of me that judge my worth based on my physical self have been loud and running the show.

This discomfort is sometimes the only thing that will carry us into a deeper love. It is the vow to ourselves to take the truth of where we are and flip it into part of our joy at living this beautiful life.

I am going back into the practice. And I invite you to walk with me. To be honest and true and clear and thirsty together.