How the revolution began.
By PrincessWarrioretc on March 23, 2011
This is the very first post of this blog. It is a very clear representation of who I am & where I am. It is how my outward transformation began.
January 24, 2011
About a week ago my beautiful SIL posted that she was going to run the Warrior Dash. The Warrior Dash is a 3.5 mile course of mud, sludge, obstacles- dirty ones, sweat, bugs, and fire. Oh yes, fire. Towards the finish line one of the final obstacles is the warrior flame. I thought, 'That looks like fun. I wish I could do it.' If you know me at all, you know that neither my mind nor body are warrior material. I like to think that one day I will be athletic and fit; and my mind will be sharp and wise. One day. Not this year, though. I've too much to do. I have intentionally put just enough on my plate to leave absolutely no room for any extra-physical activity.
In the days following her post, the word 'Warrior' kept creeping up in my head. Is God trying to tell me something? Nah, if he were, it certainly would not be about warriors, we have much more important things to discuss. I have a hefty to-do list for God and being a warrior was not on the list. I mean really, think about it, Warrior: a person who shows or has shown great vigor, courage, or aggressiveness, as in politics or athletics. Nope, not me. As usual, God's plan was not align with my plan and I found myself thinking of, writing, typing, or saying, "Warrior," a few times a day.
I thought about my grandfather and my uncle. Their life was laid out as an obstacle course. They defied, mastered, overcame their obstacles. Warriors indeed.
I thought about my cousin and her brain tumor. It was supposed to take her months ago. It was supposed to be a death sentence. It wasn't. She didn't allow it to be those things. Warrior.
My friend from high school. She has earned her helmet and shield battling ALS. Every morning she wakes up and opens her eyes is a battle won. Warrior.
My SIL. She made a huge decision to leave what was comfortable and what was familiar for what was right. Fierce warrior.
I think about my #1 parenting role model. She battled the mine fields of Autism, nay-sayers, and dim prognosis. There were no support groups, no web-sites, and no doctors to turn to for answers. She smiled, held her head high, dug-in and did what was right for her baby. Beautiful warrior.
I've thought about the boy, how proud I am of him. He is such a warrior. Everyday that he gets up and goes to school he runs a course of obstacles. He interacts with his peers -mud & sludge- he keeps up in class -another dirty obstacle- and he comes home with a smile on his face ready for another day -flaming finish line. Absolute Warrior.
I thought about Natalie. She is very much a little princess warrior of lip gloss and innocence. I thought that one day I wanted her to harness her powers and be a warrior when she wanted to be, but never because she had to be. Princess warrior.
All of these thought rolled back around to ME. These were all very defined battles. Very tough obstacle ridden battles. I declared myself thankful that I have no real battle of my own. Any battles that I have fought, I usually created. So why now? Why warrior? Why a muddy race? Really?
Everything that I had allowed to happen in my life, in the absence of self esteem and in the absence of God, came to a head last year. All my poor choices and burnt bridges collapsed in around me. My battles were self inflicted. I placed obstacles in my own path. The thing that takes you from wanting to do something and connects it to doing (and finishing) something was only removed by me. I had settled for mediocre. I was teaching my children to settle for mediocre.
Realizing this, I declared 2011 as my year. If the Mayans are correct, then I want it to be a spectacular year. I have been unraveling the weave of mediocrity very gently, without much noise or fuss. I have made choices opposite of what is comfortable. I have held my tongue when I knew my razor sharp words could cut to shreds. I have planned a steady exit strategy when all I want to do is run away. I have hit the 'delete' button when it would have felt so good to click the 'send' button. I have started and finished projects. I have begun the evolution into the person I was supposed to be, who God intended for me to be, before everything else got in the way.
The answer to the 'why?' is clear, now. Mud is my nemesis. Exercise is my antithesis. Obstacles are my frienemy. It is time to do what is uncomfortable, what is unfamiliar, what is dirty. What is not normally what I would do. No more wishing and not fulfilling.
With perfectly applied lip gloss, and P!nk on the ipod, April 16 I will run the 3.something miles, climb a stack of hay, crawl through mud, weave through trees, maneuver through tires and jump a flame. Not raising any funds. Not for the conceit or vanity of it. For the self-esteem of doing and finishing. Not doing it in the name of anyone else but ME.