Living a Life of Gratitude

I have wielded the power of Gratitude through the years righteously but not as specifically as I have done over the past year. I have learned over the last few years that gratitude, when applied liberally can shift even the worst into more than tolerable, it can even move it as far as desirable. I woke up to the sound of neighbors trying to chip ice off of their car at 6 this morning and when I looked outside to see who was making all of the noise when I was trying to sleep in, my first thought was "Geez, I'm glad I'm not them" and then I crawled back into bed. Through my life I have been thankful for what I was not...homeless, in a bad marriage, left in the miserable state of no sense of humor, or chipping ice off of my car on Christmas Eve at six in the morning...along with a million other things. It has always left me with a feeling that I wasn't living a life, I was constantly dodging bullets. This feeling of gratitude was disingenuous. I wasn't grateful for me, I was grateful I didn't have the misfortune of being someone else.
Today, I express my profound gratitude for what I am. I am funny, I am smart, I am creative, I am empathetic, I am a bad ass (in the most loving way) I am daring. I am loving, I am cute, I am passionate. I am real, I am honest with myself and my emotions, I ride the highest highs and the lowest lows and I come through with grace and perfection. I am strong, I am fit, I am hot. I am mushy on the inside, I know where I stand. I am brave, I am curious, I am sassy. I am totally in love with myself. I am a little crazy around the edges. I walk straight and tall. I am a complete woman. My challenge to myself is to look at the bountiful gifts that surround me, become me, and belong only to me. Today, I love my body with such amazing gratitude for being me, in all of my wonderfulness! Happiest of Holidays to you,
XO,
Karen

Breaking the addiction to lack...

I am amazed at the ease at which I am sailing through the holidays, decorating, singing, dancing to Jingle Bells. This year I made the conscious decision to embrace the holidays which usually send me looking for a helmet and diving for cover, praying for January 2nd to roll around. My family is so fractured and instead of the close gatherings, present exchanges, carols sung by the choir, we kind of all just go along on our own way without much acknowledgement or celebration. When I was growing up in a large family, Christmas was a time of great excitement, mountains of presents under the tree and so much fun preparing a huge dinner. When I moved away, we planned Christmas around schedules, my brother coming from Alaska, one of my sisters from Phoenix, me from Florida, and Christmas often came on days other than December 25th. The efforts were made to keep Christmas intact and that was good. I think the major shift happened when my father died in 1993. The tradition of Christmas changed, my mother caught in grief decided to travel to Chicago to visit me. It was the first Christmas I didn't go "home". My sister and I didn't creep up the stairs to see what Santa had left in our stockings. We pasted Christmas together anyway, and I remember it fondly, but it was different. Holidays are times when it is so easy to jump into old memories that are filled with the wonderfulness of what I "used" to have and don't have now. Why is it we are so addicted to lack? What we don't have, what we didn't have, what we will never have or what we have lost? I think as a society we are focused on so much negativity it spirals us down to the depths of despair. It is easy to become inured to the discomfort of living a negative life. I am recapturing my joy, making a conscious decision to love the life I am living and it is a good life. Being unhappy is uncomfortable because it no longer fits into my JOY filled life. Instead of wishing I was invited to a party, I am having one myself tonight, with fabulous women who bring such positive energy. Instead of feeling sorry for myself that I miss the traditions of Christmas, I am blazing the trail of creating new ones. I have invited my granddaughter and my mother to join me for brunch at one of the oldest and most historic hotels in Denver, that totally decks out for the holidays and it will be pleasure filled. I have decorated for the holidays, risking frostbite to string lights on my balcony. My life is good and filled with choices. I can choose to focus on what I lack, or I can joyfully jump into what I have. Daily. I live a joy filled life packed with gratitude. I have broken my addiction to lack and choose to celebrate the life I have. So today, and every day, I love my body more than lack...Happy JOY filled holidays to you,
XO,
Karen

Not a Numbers Girl

What an interesting week. My mother told me the other day that for the first time she felt old. She is 84 and rounding the corner toward 85. My mother lives in a retirement community and she frequently speaks of how cute the "little old ladies" are that amble around the hallways, offer up their free unsolicited advice, or just come knocking on her door to say hello. See, my mother is a little old lady and a really cute one, she just doesn't want to admit it. Nor do I, because if I admit my mother's age, then I have to think about my own and I've decided I'm not a numbers girl. I compartmentalize my life as a series of situational life circumstances and as I am looking at the fact that I have more years behind me than in front of me, I think about how age in the form of numbers has such significance. When you're born, you're judged first in hours, then days, then weeks and somewhere you become measured in months. Then somehow, according to a busy mother friend of mine, the time changes around twenty four months of age to two years. Then you can't wait to be five so you can go to kindergarten, then 10 because you're in the double digits, then twelve because that seems like life is moving along. Then you can't wait to be sixteen so you can drive, twenty one so you can legally drink alcohol. Then things start sobering up faster than you did on your twenty first birthday. You are looking at 30. Then 35, then the "BIG 4-0." Then society looks at it as downhill from there. There are boatloads of expectations that go along with being 40. That you will be settled, you will be married, you will have children that are looking forward to the same milestones you did. Sometimes life doesn't always turn out the way you thought it would, or sometimes the path you are intended to take is different than you dreamed when you were younger. When I was younger, I envisioned my life so differently than how it has turned out. The twists and turns have been devastating, uplifting, excruciating, exhilarating, and now I realize that the journey has been the life, not the other way around. The height of my joy is only matched by the depths of my sorrows, and it is quite a ride. I'm not measured by numbers, and I refuse to look at my life expectancy in years. My life is measured in experiences. In the amount of joy I can suck out of a given time frame. The pleasure I have on the plate before me. My life is just beginning. I am gloriously alive and that is all that matters. So the lesson for me today is that I love my body more than numbers...but for the record, I'm 660 months old...
XO,
Karen

Champagne and Strawberries Just Because...

I noticed when I was at the liquor store shopping for a bottle of Chardonnay to keep in the refrigerator the small individual sized bottles of champagne that come in a four pack. I looked at them, looked at the larger bottle of chardonnay and decided that I was a Champagne Girl. So I sit here tonight in front of my computer munching on fresh strawberries I bought at the market yesterday and sipping a glass of champagne that comes in a little individual size bottle. As individual as I am. And the only thing I am celebrating is Monday. And me. I have come from a place of denial...denying myself special little treats, self love or the joy of bragging to a good friend because I felt I wasn't worthy or I would be judged or some other ridiculous thing. It is a belief that I was taught as a child, don't shine brightly, stay out of the way, don't brag or people will think you are conceited. I remember when I was about 20, I was offered a modeling job. I was photographed and the company published the pictures in the local papers in their advertising. It was great and I felt like a million bucks. My father, a photographer by hobby, wanted to take some pictures of me and when I smiled and told him I charged $100 per hour he looked at me and told me he charged $125. I was crushed and felt like I had been put back in my place of feeling less than. Now, I regularly attend the church that Dr. Northrup refers to as the Church of Undoism. Undoing all of the unhealthy things that were fed to me as a child, the things that I believed for so many years that contributed to living less than my potential. I view all of those experiences now as incredible gifts, because without them I wouldn't be the woman I am today. Now, I vet out my friends by how much joy they can stand coming from me. I have learned that if they are not willing to jump up and down for me, I'm not really all that excited about jumping up and down for them. And I am interested in JOY in the most pure and honest form. I honor myself daily and tonight as I sit in my living room looking out at the incredible snow and the beautiful holiday lights on the houses across the street it is clear to me that I love my body more than denial. I am toasting myself with my champagne in my gorgeous Waterford crystal flute only because it is Monday...and I am totally worthy. Here's to you, Baby...and here's to you Daddy, wherever you are...
XO,
Karen

Radically Approve of Everything!

It has been an interesting few days. My mother has not been feeling well for a few months and we have been to the doctor and look forward to a week of scheduling tests, invasive and otherwise to find out if she has something dreadful going on in her body. It has been my practice over the last few weeks to be in radical approval of everything, including but not limited to cranky people, health scares, and traffic jams. I am amazed at how much this is changing my outlook on everything. When the first thought is negative, like Oh my God what are we going to do? or this is going to make me late, or why is this woman such a bitch, I am totally and radically approving of everything. YES, my mother could have a devastating diagnosis! What an opportunity to celebrate her completely and if the news is good then how wise was I not to panic? YES! the woman at the grocery store was bitchy to me for no apparent reason. What a delicious reminder to practice my new skills at approving of her because perhaps she has three sick kids at home and has yet to be enlightened about approving of everything. Stuck in traffic? YES YES YES! I was able to surround myself with comfort with the heat blowing gently through the vents, my buns comfortably toasting on the warm seat, and a fabulous CD in the player and actually I found myself quite happy. I read somewhere that we have more than 80,000 thoughts daily, with over 90% of those being negative, and 98% of those negative thoughts have nothing to do with reality. Every person has a story, and this one is mine. Today, I love my body more than disapproval...YES!
XO,
Karen

It's the Thoughts That Count

Growing up in a large family, it was always a fight for real estate. Emotional real estate, that is. It was easy to feel lost, or like no one was paying attention to me. I was lucky because I was very athletic as a kid so could put on the gymnastic show in the back yard for attention. I was skinny and gangly, and could turn a flip faster than the spatula at the brand new restaurant down the street called McDonald's. There was a huge part of my emotional development tied into the fact that I could get attention by doing something other than just being me. My head began to fill with thoughts of being less than...less important, less worthy, and less of a person than the next kid. I remember one of the kids in my fourth grade class got glasses that I thought were really cool. So I found a pair of my mother's old glasses, sans lenses, and wore them to school. Like a 10 year old has any idea that light reflects off of glass coupled with the fact that my eyes were so clear behind my faux lenses. My friend Carol told me they were fake, and being caught in a lie, of course I did what any fourth grader would do. I denied it. She was probably as fascinated with the fact that I would actually want to wear glasses and the ones I had were much nicer than the other girl's because my lenses were so incredibly clear and in that second when the thought was transferring to the nerves in her fingers, lifting her arm and nearly poking my eye out she probably wondered what it would feel like to be Alice and step through the looking glass. Instead, she just nearly poked my eye out.
So, the lesson here is that even as early as my earliest memory, I was constantly bombarded with my thoughts of my perception of myself. It is interesting to think about the absolute fact that we become what our thoughts dictate. So, at this point in my life I proudly wear real glasses, albeit the ones with really cool rhinestones on the ear pieces...not so dissimilar to the cat eye ones my mother had with the missing rhinestones in the frames. Hmmm. Anyway, I make choices daily, constantly, to see the best in myself, to look at myself with a loving and compassionate eye. I am the keeper of my soul, and my soul chooses to relieve myself of the negative images of my childhood and jump with palms open into my future. Today, I love my body more than negative thoughts, and just being me is more than enough...I hope you have a positively fabulous day!
XO,
Karen

I love my body more than...a journey of self love...

I had heard someone say that every time she was tempted to eat something that blatantly was not good for her she told herself "I love myself more than cookies," or candy, or whatever it was that was tempting her. I adopted this motto and took it to heart. My diet of self love began sometime in June and by October, I was lean, fit, and moving into my speed limit birthday better than I could have ever imagined.

It all began when an old boyfriend I had reconnected with briefly at the beginning of the summer told me that I was 95% perfect, but the remaining 5% wasn't physically attractive to him. I was wounded, but I remained in a positive space and said that was so contradictory to his actions over the last few weeks. He wasn't someone I was interested in a long term relationship with, but I was still wounded. I was shocked but recovered quickly enough to tell him it must be hard to tell me something like that. I held space for him as he told me how shallow he was, how cowardly, and how he was already questioning his decision and must obviously be insane. While my ego was bruised, I was struck by the extraordinary courage it took for him to say something so completely ridiculous to my face. I would have expected something more along the lines of "it isn't you, it's me," or "this just isn't working for me." He hadn't been able to keep his hands off of me for the last month. So this came as somewhat of a surprise, if not the most unbelievably amazing reason to tell someone adios. Wow, 95% perfect? That's still an "A" in anyone's book.

While I knew his reasoning was shaky, it did push some significant buttons and I knew there was work to be done. I found myself spiraling into the depths of rejection, abandonment, feelings far greater than the initial insult. I was undesirable. I didn't even want him, but he rejected me! How could this be? It wasn't him, surely it was me. My head can be a bad neighborhood and sometimes it isn't wise to go there alone. I spent six weeks circling the drain of my life. Then, I decided enough was enough.

It has been amazing how this motto has transcended food. It has allowed me to look at dating, relationships and work with a different attitude. I practice self love all the time. I blow kisses at my reflection in the mirror. I treat myself to candle lit dinners with myself as my own date. I leave myself voice mails as if from a lover telling me how hot and sexy I am. I stand in front of the mirror naked, starting with my hair and moving down my body to the tips of my toes with affirmations of self love and acceptance. But a journey is begun with a single step, and for me, it was coming to terms with the fact that I wasn't loving myself very much to first, be involved with such a flaky guy, and second to hand over my psychological power to someone I didn't trust very much...Me. I began my journey with the motto "I love my body more than..." At first it was cookies, because loving my body meant I was taking better care of myself and cutting out sweets seemed the natural thing to do. Through the summer, my self love, and trust in myself grew to great proportions and the weight fell off easily. I signed up to do Pilates to strengthen, but my sheer love and self will to take exquisite care of myself transcended everything else. It is now December, and I am 25 pounds lighter. And I'll tell you it was effortless once I made that shift in my head that the only person that was going to take impeccable care of me was me. More on that later....Hope you enjoy my journey