Honest + Naked

a space for nurturing authenticity

Month: March 2015

Depressed? Me too.

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On March 31, 2015

In Uncategorized

I linger in depression at times.

Two weeks ago I felt it take me over like a sloth slowly climbs the limbs of a tree. Lack of motivation and melancholy mounted me. I sat in a rut like beach vacationers lounge in a cozy hammock. I knew from what state I functioned and it did not resemble paradise.

What’s ironic is there are so many wonderful things going on, so many blessings I can count… how would there possibly exist any room for depression, whatsoever? The dichotomy screamed absurd, while I drifted lost, bewildered in the dark of day. Ever feel this way?

Well this guy named Elliot Hulse, a mentor of mine and an f-word fan, taught me a critical lesson — One I never realized before, and one I use more fiercely when I find myself moving through lapses of despair:

We are not meant to always exude happiness.

Seriously.

It’s true.

I know, I know, but so many preach happiness; some even sell it. Other dogmas recite it as the virtue of all things. Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, people! The pursuit… lest we forget. Another beautiful mentor of mine reminded me of Hulse’s very point over the past weekend. If we are only meant to only be happy all the time, then why do we come equipped with a gamut of emotions?

HAPPINESS, meant for everyone all the time. False advertising, perhaps. Many buy in.

Now I am not saying we are not intended for happiness. I am not saying the purpose of the journey, the pursuit, is not joy. I am simply suggesting Hulse speaks some truth in illustrating depression as a powerful tool. When sadness paints our mood blue for the day, a week, a month, or whatever stretch of time, an opportunity for learning presents itself. How do you know what a bright, warm, sunny day compares to if you have never known the cold? Personally, the cold is phenomenal for me. It teaches me so many things about living in appreciation. The cold wakes me up. The cold reignites my senses. The cold symbolizes the start of a new season. I did not necessarily enjoy the cold before moving away from it, however. It took being in a lack of cold for me to appreciate it. C‘est la vie.

So during this last bout with Depression, as I rummaged through my baggage, I found something inside: Appreciation. I also located Understanding and Compassion for myself. Damn, I am so glad I found those particular pieces because I look good in them! Instead of chastising myself for going through these recessed motions, I permitted myself the space to do so. I allowed Depression in, offered her several cups of tea, reached out to my community for help, and voilà! I politely escorted Depression out the door. It is A-okay she came for a visit. I am glad she did. I arrived at many realizations during her stay…

My life is good.

Really good.

The current path I am walking is exactly perfect as is.

I take part in many activities I enjoy and they fulfill me.

I love what I do.

I love motivating others.

I love sharing my story.

I love the community who surrounds me; they build me up and tell me to continue my dreams.

Depression is my friend;

She enlivened me to a place not of robotics.

She reminded me what it means to run alive;

I am grateful.

Someone told me once I should not let others see my ups and downs. I work as a Personal Trainer. I must always be upbeat, happy. I considered this thought. Then I threw it away. Unfeigned character relates and models as an authentic example of what real living is, and doing so allows for connection. Connection is conducive to the greater good.

I no longer run away when I see Depression coming.

I embrace her with a hug and kiss.

I thank her for her innate ability to teach me.

May you thank her too.

Running on Time

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On March 10, 2015

In Uncategorized

As a trainer, I hear this all the time: 

I don’t have time.

I was soooooooooo busy.

I can’t workout — there’s not enough time.

I need more hours in the day.

How do you cook?

I don’t have time. 

In fact, one of my clients felt she did not have time to workout this morning since she just returned from Hawaii on Saturday and leaves for Palm Springs on Wednesday (both leisurely related trips), so I just trained her husband. She, for weeks in a row, was again a no-show.

“I don’t have time,” perhaps will echo from us mere mortals into the beyond.

I am guilty. Hands up in the air if you’re feeling fine like you can admit you have ever uttered, thought, or felt the blood curdling sensation of possessing no time. I once was the girl who existed in a hurry, fluttering down the halls of junior high or high school so fast I would not notice my own g-string hiking up above my pants (my friend would later tell me of the ridiculous site). Others would articulate my incessant speed walking with colorful impersonations, mimicking the kerplunking high heels. Somewhere in it all, I’d manage to drop belongings. Out. of. control. Studious, yes — a straight A student. Late? Check, check, check, and check.

I am going to make the usual digression now and place blame. BUT I was raised that way. My tardiness was my parents’ fault, or at the very least my fathers’. As children we must sit for breakfast, be delivered ‘The Word of the Day’ brought to you by the Maxon house where every day is a WONDERFUL DAY!” by my father, digest a current event, and make a take-away from a Spiritual lesson, all BEFORE we could go to school, EVEN if it entailed missing the bus or being late (Yes, this is factual. I am not bullshitting you. I clarify because there have been some who don’t believe.). I learned a lot in those daily jam sessions — dare say even my love for language — but not the value of time. For years I pissed all over it. No respect. Time. Please!

I remember showing up to my Advanced English course in college for my Professor meeting on the term’s Ethnography project, late. Again. I said some stupid stuff like, “I just can’t manage being on time,” and probably justified it in my head because my teacher loved my writing…

He did not mind. 

How rude of me to assume for him!

Everyone has the same time; it is how we spend it that counts. Respect others’ time! Damn this took me a while to learn, and I am still working at it. The practice is a choice from one opportunity to the next– a single decision, made day after day no matter what. Entering the client-based business I live in, forced me to make the change. The reason I have a job doing what I do is quite simply an exchange of people paying me for my time. Though more items add to the mix of being a quality trainer, ultimately individuals trade me for my time. What kind of coach would I be if I did not show up, or on time?

Another digression: This one I love. I watched the hell out of Oprah over my adolescence. I quoted her show so often my entire senior class, some 600-700 peers, voted me, myself, I, ‘Most Likely to Overthrow Oprah’. For real, Oprah is my girl. I will never forget the episode when Bob Greene, Oprah’s Personal Trainer for years, told the story of Miss O showing up late for a workout. Apparently she shared my problem. She was not making it in time for Bob and he warned her not to continue the abuse. She did not heed his warning and arrived late to a session to find…

…No Bob…

She phoned Bob, “Bob where are you?”

“I’m not there. I left because you were late. You did not respect my time.”

Bob Greene no-showed Oprah Winfrey with intention. Oprah Freaking Winfrey! You bet your lucky pennies he did! Because his time meant something to him and it did not matter if the Queen of T.V. or England did not show courtesy to the only thing he had to trade– his time– he would not be a fool and stick around. As of its airing, I do not believe she showed up late again…

Let’s dive back into the basics here for a second.

The sun finds the time to rise and set.

The moon somehow manages to show itself night after night.

There is time for people to take their last breath, time for babies’ conception and birth every second.

We all inherit the same twenty-four hours each day we persist.

And then there are those same people who keep yapping their traps about how they just don’t have time; they are just toooooo busy; yet they work the same hours as many, or they don’t work at all. They are the ones who humanity’s clock somehow forgot to fork over extra time deposits to.

This is the world’s smallest violin playing a somber melody in their honor….

Can you hear it?

You can’t?

That’s because it isn’t playing shit!

If the long time sun can shine upon you then stop making excuses. Stop putting tasks and accomplishments before the value of other individual’s time.. Stop wasting time. Stop lying to yourself! Stop stressing yourself out. Stop rushing. Stop lying to all the people in your life experience! Stop the blame-game. It does not matter what your habits were for such and such years, or how your parents brought you up. Lace up your tennis shoes and do a lap for goodness sake! Run, sprint, row, jog, squat, thrust, meditate. I don’t care.

I do care about my excuses and yours. They only wound. Get real and get running on time. 

The FAITH of a Flower

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On March 3, 2015

In Uncategorized

And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.

– Matthew 17:20, King James Bible

I trudged around in faithless shoes many a trips, covering long distances. To trudge literally means to walk slowly and with heavy steps, typically because of exhaustion or harsh conditions — a difficult or laborious walk. A faithless stride is laborious indeed. For me, debilitating. And the funny thing about my time spent without faith is I knew I was missing something, though I had not a clue what it was. I felt alone, disconnected from living. I felt hopeless. I felt like a loser whose dreams I grew up dreaming may never actually come true. I felt scared as I existed from a place of lacking, a dark, deep void of fear. Fear is Faith’s opposite. Fear is full of scarcity, the adversary. Faith is full of light, strength, and trust. Faith lifts the soul for flight as its greatest ally. 

My father preached Matthew 17:20 throughout my upbringing. How did I then not know it? How did I not recognize Faith’s face in this world of faces? Because I had to find her for myself. I had to wander in the scarcity, suffering in my faithless shoes, until I found her. She’s one of those creatures whom I had to discover on my own to become fully acquainted. No one else could do it for me, though many tried. I had to change my way of thinking and alter my way of seeing.

The thinking part evolved with me in the Sunshine State (may have been those Rays…). While living in Florida, I experienced a damn truckload of challenges dumped on my doorstep. One after the other, they did not stop. Meanwhile, I crawled inside myself to retreat. When I finally began to inch my way out of my shell, I found her. I found FAITH and she found me. The conception happened during conversation with a friend, in the midst of one of the most vast stages of growth I have yet to undergo. This time of growth constituted me pushing myself past doubts and insecurities — a time defined by me showing up in my life perhaps more than I ever had before. My friend shared with me her grasp of Faith. She explained her practice with the element in a way in which I am forever changed. Faith is not thinking; it is a knowing. My friends words, along with the physical and behavioral changes I had made, sparked Faith’s presence in my life. I have not let go since.

The seeing part continues to work itself from one moment to the next as a matter of perspective. I compare it like this: When I take my contacts out and leave my frames off my eyes to view the world in my -7.00 vision, I trust my body to move and flow in its environment safely. And when I do this, I see conditions from such a freeing angle. I love practicing this when I do Yoga. I feel alive. I feel assured. This did not use to be the case. I hated not being able to see. I changed. I realize now, it is all a matter of how I see. I feel okay and feel confidence taking my lenses out to view the world differently from most.

“Everything works itself out. I don’t worry. I don’t stress. I hold such strong Faith,” she told me.

Boom. Dynamite. My world shifted. Faith is a choice, a decision.

On March 30, 2014, in a quandary, I sent a question out to my contacts: Do you believe in coincidences? Many replied. The response which stuck out to me the most was this — “I don’t know Destiny, do you believe in fate?”

It took me days to know my answer to my very own question:

“I had to experience this week to know,
Destiny smiles at Fate.”

This is where my new-found Faith came into play. Does one with the name Destiny believe the essence behind the moniker attached to her on this earthly venture? Well, Fate is the course of someone’s life, or the outcome of a particular situation for someone or something, seen as beyond their control. Greek & Roman Mythology site three goddesses presiding over the birth and life of humans. Each person’s destiny thought of as a thread spun, measured, and cut by the three Fates: Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. Where my beliefs and awareness land in all this hul·la·ba·loo is Fate, Faith, and Destiny all stand one in the same; they revolve around acceptance of matters being beyond one’s control with the ease and understanding that what is meant for me will never miss me, while knowing what misses me was never meant for me.

Faith is like an arrow pointing its way towards the path of knowing in a Cosmos of the unknown. 

It’s the vulnerable mustard seed who moves the impossible mountain.

It is the flower who dies, only to renew blooms in the spring.

It is Destiny who smiles awakened at the Fate of the flower and its seed.

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