Month: July 2022

The memory floods my brain as I run out the door at 7:15 am to pet sit, then to my previous desk job to fill in for vacations. “This is what it used to be like every day!”

I went through a period where I was searching for my purpose and talent. Unfortunately, I had no career or education past high school. I spent those early working years being a single mom, drinking, and barely making ends meet. I felt unfulfilled in many ways.

Being the energetic “YES” girl I was, I ensured that every moment of free time I had was filled with some way of making money or being of service.

If you ask people around me, they will tell you that I am always doing something or creating something. Staying busy has its pros and cons. I had a great chance to try many things to see what I might do well at or enjoy. I tied office jobs, odd jobs, bridal boutiques, restaurants, dog walking, etc. I was always willing to take on a job and some extra income. But at what cost?

The multiple jobs and minimal incomes were turning out not to be worth the while.
Staying busy for me had become a crutch to keep me from falling into the depths of my soul. I knew what was down there, and I had avoided all of it. However, I was not ready to sit alone with the child, teen, or adult Christy-Lee.

I had a total of 5 jobs that I regularly did, and none of them seemed to have anything in common. There was not much room for growth, and I needed growth. I started to realize that I was not a caged bird. I need to be free to be creative, kind, loving, and of service.
A “regular” job would not fit my lifestyle.

The thing with being loving, kind, and creative…there is no high-paying job for it (if you have one, let me know!! I am interested). So then I started teaching yoga.

It was not immediate because I had abandonment and inadequacy core fears, so I had to jump through all the mental hoops.

“Am I making a mistake?”
“ Am I letting anyone down?”
“Will they dislike me?’
“Am I abandoning them?”
“What if I cant make money?”
“Am I enough?”
“Do I have faith and trust?”

The thing about fear is that when we lean into the discomfort and walk through our fear, we come out stronger on the other side. I trust my HP will care for me and that I am supposed to follow my passion and purpose of helping others heal through self-love and self-acceptance. I decided to change, and through a recovery and yoga program, I could leave the jobs that no longer served me and not burn a bridge. That is a significant change from the “ I quit this B***H” I gave out before quitting drinking.

As I left to work three jobs today, I was, and still am, grateful. I am grateful for what it used to be like, knowing I could hustle and get things done, for the courage I had to change, for choosing to spend some time with Christy-Lee, and for the wisdom to listen to my intuition.

Today, I still work multiple jobs which flow together for the ultimate goal of wellness and healing.

It is ok to be busy, but ask yourself, what are you hiding from?

I look forward to the next time we are together. Until then, be kind to each other.
With so much love,
Christy-Lee B

Hypocrisy is claiming to have moral standards or beliefs to which one’s own behavior does not conform.

The moments where I completely lose my head are fewer and farther between, yet they still unfortunately occur. I have written before about the anger and rage I carry inside and the work I do on a moment-to-moment basis to keep a level head and not slip back into my old and destructive ways of doing things. Coupled with these moments are people who have witnessed it.

I take no pride in the moments when I allow my anger to take over. I forget to stop and think. I forget to take a breath. I forget all my training and go berserk. I shout and swear. I wish horrible things on people, places, and things, and I let out all the anger and rage I have been holding onto in a burst of insanity.

Allow me to paint the scene. I am staying away for the weekend with a friend and sleeping in the basement. I said goodnight to my friend and considered telling them not to wake me early, then decided it was unnecessary and hoped for the best. This, in hindsight, was a mistake.

6 am, and there are footsteps all around me as I teeter between sleep and consciousness.

Suddenly, I am awake. I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON. Those closest to me know that when I wake, I require ten minutes of no talking and no interaction.
If I awake suddenly, it is not pretty.

I asked, “What are you doing here? Why are you up this early?” They replied that they were trying to work on a project in the basement. If you saw my face, you would have run.

They go upstairs, and I do what I think is my best muffled bitching.

“I had one day to sleep in!”

“I never get to fu***ng sleep in!”

“Why would you wake someone up like that?!”
At this point, I have a couple of years of sobriety and yoga under my belt, so I was trying to be quiet versus the old screaming. Instead, I exploded for one full minute versus one full day. I noticed immediately that I was wrong versus, yeah right, I was never wrong.

I take a few breaths and stop seeing red. I calm down and decide to go upstairs, get a coffee, and go for a walk to clear and reset my mind. I get dressed, walk upstairs, and find my friend cross-armed, tapping their foot and telling me they heard everything.

I had a rush of feelings. First, how dare you listen to me in my “private” flip out? It’s your fault for waking me up in the first place. This is ridiculous, and finally, how freaking mortifying.

I instantly apologized, saying that I am not a morning person and it was nothing personal. I then tried to explain some demanding situations further, and I was met with an “Arent we all” response. I brushed it off and offered another amends and a hug. We hugged it out, and I went on that walk.

The walk was beautiful and worked to bring me back to peace and serenity. I said prayers and affirmations and practiced walking meditation. When I returned, everything was calm. My friend and I got along great for the duration of the weekend. I felt guilt and shame for them witnessing my worst defects, yet I released myself from judgment. I made immediate amends, reset my day, and moved on. I call that serious growth.

Sunday morning and we (there were three of us there that weekend) are sitting on the patio with our drinks, and my friend says this,

“I think some of us are hypocrites. They want to be about yoga and that life but still go around and throw cuss words around and act disrespectful to others.”

I was floored. Are you kidding me? Again, a rush of emotions. First tears, I feel attacked and caught off guard. The second sympathy, I felt terrible that they carried that around with them all weekend, the resentment, fear, silent scorn, whatever. They had held it in all weekend while I had gone free from the moment we hugged, and they said we were all good. Third irritation, I wouldn’t say I like when people use coded language or are not honest about their feelings. Fourth is distrust. I can never trust another word from their mouth to be honest (catastrophizing).

So, a lot going on for this alcoholic yogi in two days. Finally, our third-party intervened, and we ended positively with a hint of peer mediation. I say a positive note, but I still feel the sting of that accusation.

I know that it is not the truth, I know that I am light and love, I know how to pick up tools instead of a drink, and I know that I am healing and not a hypocrite.
We must have the worst in us brought out at times to see where the work needs to start or continue. Every time I give into things more in line with my human self than my highest self, I hear that tiny critical voice say, “I think some of us are hypocrites….”

When that voice speaks up, I reach into my toolbox and start building solutions. I shift to positive and loving thoughts. I affirm that I am healing and release myself from shame, guilt, and judgment. I thank and send love to those who give me opportunities to work on myself.

They and I are still friends, yet in my heart, things have changed. Say what you mean. Mean what you say. Please don’t say it mean. And please, please, don’t say that you are OK or that something is “all good” when it is not.

Stand up and speak your truth. Be you, and promptly admit it when you are wrong or are not OK. Forgive yourself and others, move forward, and do the next right thing. All easier said than done, which is why it requires practice and consistency. We make changes over time with consistency, and any one of us is capable of changing. My healing is human, not hypocrisy.

I look forward to the next time we are together. Until then, be kind to each other.
With so much love,
Christy-Lee B

Something was terribly wrong when I looked out my kitchen window at my beloved garden. The full and hearty hosta plants, which were in full bloom, were gone. Not completely gone, ripped off from the tops gone. I instantly got pissed! I looked around at the grass, which looked like it was just cut, so I deduced the landscapers had done this horrible assault on my dear and beautiful garden.

I picked up the phone faster than you could say, “stop and think,” Yelling at the person on the other line. I told them that someone had ruined my garden, that I knew it was the landscapers, and that someone from landscaping should be fired for this. I was so mad and did what I do when I’m mad. I drank.
I drank at home. I drank alone in my kitchen. I drank while texting and calling people who would commiserate in my irrational upset. I drank and gazed out at my healthy garden because it was a sign of life, hope, and rejuvenation.

I was always drunk. I had to have a drink with me for everything. For example, while I tended the garden, I would have to have a frosty cold drink in my Yeti at all times. I spent more time going in and out making drinks than getting any work done.

An average person might take a moment to think before running to blame someone and demand justice. Not me.

That was four years ago.

Today, I still love my garden, but I do not suffer from an unhealthy attachment to it.
I get true joy from working outside and not having to drink. I still require a frosty cold beverage, and that may never change. I am, after all, an alcoholic.

As I walked past my kitchen window yesterday, I was stopped dead in my tracks by a brown face, big-eyed, big, wet-nosed, happily chomping deer! We made eye contact, and then, do you know what it did?

ATE THE HOSTAS!

In a flash, I remembered that moment I described above, and I cringed. I did not once think that a deer would come and eat these plants. I was in such a small box that this concept would not have even entered my realm of thinking. I had it all figured out. Someone did something to cause me to suffer.

I did suffer. I suffered from an attachment to alcohol and to “my” garden. I could not control my drinking, so I needed to control the garden.
And when things were ripped apart, it was a symbol of the wreckage in my life, and I was not ready to see it. So, I panicked, blamed, and drank.

What an ass.

The deer in my front yard was cute, and when we locked eyes, I had a revelation. I have come so far in my recovery. I am not the person I used to be. I had to rip up my entire metaphysical garden, plant new seeds, and continue to care for those seeds as they grow into new habits and thought patterns. I am no longer attached (to the garden) because attachment is one of the roots of all suffering.

Today, I choose not to suffer.

Today, I choose not to be an ass.

Today, I choose joy.

I look forward to the next time we are together. Until then, be kind to each other.
With so much love,
Christy-Lee B