Thoughts go high-speed through my brain, my body feels excited and then there is always that damn confusion. The fear of always needing to do more. To not be doing enough. To fail. Or to succeed, and then the need to go deeper, be better. Realistically, I know it’s just an urge. The need that I need to connect.
This blog could’ve been named “The Need…” But it isn’t the need, it is the matter how we connect so therefore “Let’s Connect.”
I write these blogs so I will read for myself that I am still alive. That I am growing into the man I want to become. I want to write these blogs because we all go through emotional roller coasters, yet we don’t share it enough. We all feel the doubts, we deal with these anxiety filled moments with barely time to acknowledge them. So we post a picture of our delicious food, we make up that smile and sign it off with #TheGoodLife. We slip into aids, like pills to help us ease down. But these are only temporary solutions and we grow accustomed to the “cure.” And we fail to connect.
I spend most of my life hiding. As soon as things got serious I would scare away instead of engage. Needed to man up? I would shrink so small I couldn’t find myself. I cried in the mirror because that dude I was looking at just couldn’t stand up like the man I felt I wanted to be. Standing in front of a group or a classroom was no issue, but dealing with the feelings inside me brought me down on my knees, over and over again.
Standing tall became an exercise. A personal method. When I was home alone, cooking or folding laundry. Straighten those shoulders, breathe deep into my stomach, exhaling putting it all out there. It was a process, a learning school for myself. I needed to learn to balance myself. Living with a disability that threw me physically off balance, I had to find the mental balance to strain the physical one and in that process I discovered my spiritual one.
I’m not beating my chest with a jungle roar, that’s just not my style (in public, that is…*insert smiley face here*.) However, I do slap my own ass and say “good boy!” (Not in public either, that would be too much frowned upon.) For I know how far I’ve come. I know what I aim for and I am always closing that gap to what once was, and what once will be. I’m mighty proud of what I discovered as I truly connected. Let me tell you a little bit of that secret.
The secret is in the smallest things.
Do you appreciate the tiniest accomplishments? Those almost unnotable accomplishments?
Many of them are when and how you start your day. Many of them are simply how you stand up for and to yourself. Many are just ways to create an oversight of what you have in your life.
Do you make your bed?
Pour yourself a glass of water?
Brush your teeth in a hurry, or with intent?
Do you look in the mirror and smile at yourself?
Do you prepare some breakfast that will fuel you?
Do you like the first taste of food you put in your mouth?
I did the steps, took the notes and I am sharing, for you to see.
“Here I am. Human.” I aim to serve and to make life real!
I’m not perfect, I just aim to be the best I can be with what I have this day.
Do you embrace your strengths? Your weakness? You femininity? Your masculinity? Or do you force yourself in a suite of accordance and hope you’ll get through your day?
Living with a physical disability has taught me that I can want many things, but if I don’t fully appreciate what I’m doing, my next step might not be as fun. Not as fully engaged. So I connect with myself, it is a choice to make me connect with my day. I have days that I’m weak or in pain, and I have days I’m so strong I think I can conquer the world. Yet everyday, I get to push the best out of me. Everyday I have a smile. Every day I get to learn and most days I get to teach. For what we have in ourselves is a force that many times goes unrecognized in a dessert of emotions that covers us. I help people uncover that.
For connecting and learn more, mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org and just maybe you can learn to accept the feelings that worry you. Walk with them instead of running away.