What if?

I used to play the 'what if' game when the kids were little.

Have you ever played it?

It used to go something like this.

What if I was on a tropical beach wearing a bikini, like really wearing it, instead of having my hands in this poopy diaper?

"Mom come now! The pigs are eating the goat!" There was a lot of poop that morning.

What if I was wearing a tailored suit and a smooth-looking blow-out instead of these baggy jeans, stained t-shirt and a ponytail with this frizzy halo around my face?

Rocking my new ponytail hat from my friend Katie. It's awesome!

What if I just keep driving? I could just keep going until I run out of gas. I wonder where I'd end up. Would anyone ever look for me or could I just get a job at some diner and be a waitress?

Do you kinda get the picture?

I guess I needed an escape back then. Life got pretty tight in the walls of our little brown house on Quebec street. I remember holding a baby in my arms and standing at the patio door longingly. Dreaming.

"We are done waiting for some elusive future moment to say life is good enough. We are done waiting for ...an exciting enough adventure/experience to finally think we've arrived at the abundance of being and living enough.'

What if.

I haven't played that game in a while. I'm not sure what happened. I guess the diapers turned into backpacks and then there were practices, games, concerts, graduations and I dove into life.

All this because two people fell in love.

The what if game made it's appearance the other week and it took me a little by surprise. I had forgotten about it.

I started seeing and hearing all the ads for a better you for 2019. You know, work harder, get the body you've always wanted, join this gym, stop eating this food, that food, exercise our way, eat our way and look like us - toned, tanned, and 27.

Notice the non-curly hair and the no belly girth.

So here's how the game showed up in my mind after absorbing all of the above.

What if I was okay with how I looked? Is that possible with wrinkles, grey hair, no tan, and what my doctor so affectionately referred to as my 'growing belly girth'?

What if I let down a little? I work out four or five times a week. I rotate strength workouts and cardio. I do HIIT because I've read it's better for the middle-aged woman and the 'growing belly girth.' I do yoga to chill out. What if I didn't worry/obsess about it and settled in? What if I simply turned my back on the 'growing belly girth' comment the doctor threw at me and took stock.

What if I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw instead of focusing on the girth and the frizz?

Interesting right?

I'm thinking this whole 'what if' thing should no longer be a game. I think I should adopt some new thinking, lay down some new rails for a brand new thought train.

So let's dive in and think about the change that would come if I did exactly that.

Do you ever catch yourself in the act of talking to yourself? Are you as astounded and a lot disgusted at what you actually hear when you listen to yourself?  I am and I can not believe the things I have grabbed onto and taken in as truth when they are simply deception. Those things, those thoughts are not life giving or from a creator, they are death and they are from someone who seeks to steal, kill and destroy.

They sound like this:

You are unattractive.
Your hair is a joke.
Your belly girth is disgusting.
You need to push harder, work out more so you don't look like that.
You are too much. You are not enough. You never get it right. 

No life there. No love. No joy.Who would ever tell anyone else those types of things?

What if I threw all of those thoughts and phrases and flushed them down the toilet? That is exactly where they belong.

What if this is how I talked to myself?

Tired today? Rest. No need to workout. Rest. You look good. Rest. Your body has brought you here, to this day and it is tired. Rest. Is that a new wrinkle? Go brew a cup of tea, grab your pen and write down those thoughts, that story that is percolating in your brain. If it made a wrinkle, it must be good. Rest.

Or how about something like this:

Look at my hair! It's out of control and it's awesome! I'm going to fluff it up and wear it proud. Why the heck not? And by the way, you look good. You truly do.

One more:

Belly girth? Belly girth my doctor says? Well my doctor can take her measuring tape and stick it up, well stick it where the sun doesn't shine. I eat well. I exercise. I am worth taking care of and I do the best I know how. My body has brought me through a lot and that dang belly girth might be because I was blessed to have three babies start life there.  Job well done belly girth. Thank you for my precious ones. They are amazing and I am blessed.

Jon Bellion concert 2017. My how Will's hair has grown!

Winter Formal 2019. Notice the hair length.

I may be getting the hang of this.

I know I'm going to have to keep working on this. Would you like to work on it with me? I'm convinced there is more love here, more compassion. I'm convinced that if I can rid my body of all the shame, condemnation and worry that I've strapped onto it for so many years, that it will react in a positive way. How can shaking off the reptilian scales of self-condemnation, self-hate and guilt not absolutely change me for the better?

Can I convince myself that I'm not being lazy but simply being more kind? If I'm more kind to myself doesn't it stand to reason that I'll be more kind to others and isn't everyone in a better place if there is more genuine kindness floating around? I believe changing my attitude towards myself would create more gratitude, warmth and of course love.

Sit still for a moment and take that in. More gratitude. Warmth. Love. Breathe it in deep.

Are you feeling it? It feels like freedom.

"....you are where you are for such a time as this - not to make an impression, but to make a difference. We aren't here to one-up one another, but to help one another up."

It's rather curious when I stop and think. I push myself, I scold myself. I tell myself that I'm unworthy and unlovable. It begs the question - Who do I want to be exactly?  A scaly, cold, perfectly toned, perfectly coiffed person who nobody would want to spend time with? Who wants to hang out with someone who is perfect or who is always the winner? No one I know. And if I am trying to be like someone else because they seem to be better than me or more together than me or more whatever, doesn't it make sense that the world already has one of them and would be better with the best one of me than two of the other? Variety is the spice of life after all.

But wait. I have more questions.

Why would I not want to re-train my brain to get to the place where I can offer my body and my soul some kindness and rest? Why would I want to continue to be so awful to myself? Why? Why? Why?

It seems to be pure nonsense when one takes the time to dissect it.

And that's all I've got. I'm still processing and I know that even though I know the treating myself with more kindness and love is necessary I'm not naive enough to think I'll be excellent at it tomorrow. It will take time. It will be trial and error. But here's the thing...

I'm worth the effort.

*** All quotes are from Ann Voskamp's book, The Broken Way.