So here is my rambling attempt at backtracking. My boss and I went to a seminar on hair business. How to treat your clients, how to grow your business. I walked out feeling a bit more like I’d been handed a life lesson….or three.

Selfless I spoke of already. Humility, asking for help, knowing its ok to talk about certain things. Learning to not talk about others. The more I read this man’s quotes and books, the more its like I’m following the Buddha of hair. Treat your clients the way you want to be treated. Realize karma comes back around. If you are positive it comes back. Whatever you put in the universe comes back to you. The world of hair/beauty is changing. It is becoming a wonderful passionate, art community. I am learning to sculpt hair per person. Color with a purpose and with design. I wake up every day ecstatic to see who comes in. These are the things I’ve been missing in my life.

I can’t say I lack in the lesson of humility. I am quite familiar with it. Painfully so sometimes. I get so excited about life, I don’t realize that I might be trampling someone. Or so determined (stubborn) that I don’t want to ask for help. God forbid, I admit defeat. Humility. Human. Notice anything? We as humans start with humility. Where do we lose it? There is a certain high to “feel better than someone else” but it is a false high. It is a defeating form of energy. Both for us and for the person/s we are doing it to. We live our life based off of energy. You know that conversation you had with someone, where the whole room seemed to brighten? You walked away feeling on cloud nine? You realized the other person was walking a step lighter too? That is how our conversations should be. If we were able to watch how we spoke to people. If we realized that being right, means nothing. If we could put aside ourselves to see someone else. We could always have that kind of conversation. Not every human will have that connection. Not every human is awake.

I never thought of humility behind the chair. Not that I’m a pompous person by any means. I try very hard to be humble yet vibrant. It just never occurred to me. To tell my story to clients as truth. With no bias or drama in it. It was the first time I yearned to learn more about humility. To truly appreciate it. I understood it in that horribly uncomfortable chair as I was hanging on to every word he said. Wanting to become more and more like him. (And the gentleman that co-created their movement.) They have restarted the fire in my heart. The reason I stand behind a chair. (And next to a table.) They have set me on a path of knowledge, humility, selflessness, and hopefully better hair.

I press play on the Nike+GPS (usually forget this until half way through the run.) Tripping over Loki in the first half block, this is gonna be interesting. Chrissy and I had taken the dogkids running before. However, I’d never had time with Loki. She and I have 6 left feet together. Add that to all the cracks in the sidewalk and the telephone polls, I’m surprised we made it anywhere. By the time we hit the park we had a pretty good groove going. She seemed to relax when we hit the park. Who can blame her for wanting more trees and less concrete? My mind wanders more and more to having a farm….

Today was the first time to run with Loki, who isn’t quite my speed. That was a good thing today. It was also my first time running in Barefoot Merrell shoes and attempting Chi Running. Chrissy has harped on my for months….maybe a year….to get Merrell shoes. I had bought her new ones, but yet to spend the money on myself. I bit the bullet and found a cute pair. I decided between hair and massage, my feet needed a bit of proper shoes. The only real way to try out a pair of shoes is to run in them right? Barefoot Merrells are made to feel like you are running barefoot. There is a trend going on right now to run barefoot and I haven’t quite done the research I’d like to yet.

A very good friend has recently picked up her running habits again. “So I know you love things that have to do with energy and what not. Have you heard of Chi Running yet?” My mind immediately began racing. No, I hadn’t heard of it. Yes, I want to do it. Chi is life force. Something I have been trying to learn more about since going to massage school. Chi is the essence of life. It exists in all of us. You read about it in Eastern philosophies. My life flows more and more to ancient eastern cultures. Simplicity. Mindfulness. Energies. Healing. Mediation. These are all key words that perk my ears up. (I’ve actually spent the whole weekend reading about Tantra….)

She proceeds to explain that a man has formed Chi Running to correct our running. To take the weight off of our heels, out of our legs, and use inertia to propel us. It sounds like Crossfit for runners to me. (Crossfit uses gravity and inertia to correctly lift heavier weights.) I have ordered my book and hope to start it soon.

Today’s run by no means was a “Chi Run” but it was a Betsy-chi run. My toes grazed the pavement. My abs contracted to push me faster. My breathing was slower and intentional. I felt like a ballerina running. I felt my body connect as one. I have been trying to do this for years. I have always loved running and am a runner at heart.

For the first time, I felt graceful. I was soaring.

My body and soul went for a run. My mind just tagged along.

“You must be selfish to be selfless.”-Me

January 3rd 2011 I tattooed Breathe on my ribs. Not because I do not know how to expand my lungs. But at times I get so lost in my head forget to breathe. I forget there is a whole world out there. That in the middle of whatever situation I am in, I need to step back and look inside. Not be stuck inside.

This tattoo was a promise to myself. I would put no one before me or my daughter. I have a habit of getting swallowed by relationships. I get so lost in their world, I lose me. Every relationship I have ended is because I lost myself. I won’t do it again. I’ve hurt too many people, including myself.

I feel pretty successful in that promise to me. I did not lost myself in anyone else. I did not try to fix anyone or change them. I learned to enjoy Emma, myself, changed jobs, left unhealthy friendships behind, stuck up for myself, began writing again, meditating, learning to say no, and finally put me first. All in all-success. I knew who I wanted to be and what I wanted in life.

Now how the hell to get there??? That is the question I have been meditating on for the last few months. Funny thing about meditation is, once you ask the right questions, it smacks you in the face. Or maybe that’s the only way I can see them…
Two things have happened in the last month that have started to steer me in the right direction. Both make me feel a little *duh* but all in our own time right?!

I wanna start with my quote above. I was having a conversation and trying to explain that you can’t take care of anyone else, unless you take care of you first. My mother has been preaching these words to me since I landed myself a two week stay in a hospital. (Almost 10 years ago.) It was as if Karma was backing her up. (We won’t go into mothers always being right…) My mom would explain that if you are sick, how can you take care of others? If you don’t know who you are, how can you point someone else in the right direction? By saying yes to too many people, you become worn down and useless to all. If you are “selfish” and only spread yourself as much as you want to, then you become “selfless”. You are then able to give your attention and time without draining yourself. Or in my case becoming sick. My mom also taught me KISS. Keep It Simple Stupid.

I became a stylist about 6 years ago. A massage therapist 3 years ago. I tripped into both and fell in love. Never did I make the commitment to what I’d been trained to do. I’ve always gone back to school or tried to run fundraisers. Never fully committing to my clients. Or sadly, my own daughter. I have worried so much about being a success. About what label I have that says “I’ve made it in the world.” After a seminar last Monday I learned all of that. I am dedicating this next year to my careers. I love all that I do. Cosmetologist-the most gratifying/selfless job in the entire world. Massage-a career that I can make a difference in people’s suffering. Mom-the most selfless act of all. These all are selfless jobs. I love them all, Mom is definitely a little (lot) more fun***

***To be continued-Next post is humility. And the second part of what I want in life.

Yes, that was me falling off the band wagon. Face first. Clueless.

One step forward, two steps back. Well, lets look at my last two steps/entries. I wanted to read two different books and comment on them. I wanted to get back to writing. Back to my passions. I think that was the *Ker-plunk* part.

I wanted to eat healthier and get back to some form of gym.  Something I had done once before but had lost sight of. Aaaaaaaaaand *thud-thunk*

Then there was the whole “I wanna go to church every weekend!” Become more spiritual and get in contact with a higher power. Yup, you guessed it. *WHACK!* Somehow this part hit the hardest.

January 1st is the day the whole world puts a fresh face forward. No exception here. I’ve always secretly looked forward to a fresh start. I feel like I’ve had a lot of rough years, made some really stupid choices, and had karma back hand me few times. This year I wrote out my list. Started preparing my head for what my heart needed to happen this year. We will come back to this at the end of the year and see where I am.

Also starting January 1st I started a diet challenge. *Cringe* I just became one of the millions changing my diet on the new year. I was not prepared for how it would change my life. It should have been called a lifestyle challenge. It picked up my world, restructured it, and handed it back to me.

For 30 days we were challenged to eat a 100% Paleo diet, do plank holds, plank ups, squats, prepare meals, research the Paleo/Primal lifestyle, drink 21 ounces of water, take extra vitamins and keep track of it all. Let’s just say I officially despise plank ups. But I can hold a 2:30 minute plank hold!

Paleolithic diet consists of eating no beans, corn, gluten, or sugar. You were fine with no beans and prolly could do without the corn. But I totally just caught your jaw drop when I mentioned no gluten or sugar. I am actually allergic to gluten so that wasn’t going to be too hard.

I only had two cravings in the 30 days. I was never hungry (unless I was slammed at work and couldn’t get to food.) I lost no weight, but all my pants are falling off me. And for the first time in my life I’m losing my little pouch thing, while getting ab definition. All while barely going to the gym. Add in that I haven’t had any stomach pain or migraines for 30 days. Which means no medicines, and no trips to the ER.

Can your “diet” do that? (Your stomach is prolly growling as you shake your head no.) If you really want more info on the Paleo/Primal life click here.

My goals were to eat perfect for 20 out of the 30 days. Successfully made 28 perfect days. Now I need to adjust my life to a 85/15 rule. For a majority of the time I will eat perfect. Mainly because my body won’t allow me to cheat. The other 15% means I can have the Taco Bell I’ve been craving…..

I have learned to love to cook. Even create my own recipes. I haven’t lost brownies or cookies or lasagna. Just found new ways to make them. I will be learning to garden this summer. Maybe get chickens. This challenge has opened a whole new life to me. Strangely even giving me a purpose that I would never have thought twice about. I’ve relearned to grocery shop, to read labels and whats in them. I’ve learned what vitamins to take and why. I’ve gone back to the gym. My energy has zoomed. I am me again. I am the happy, bubbly girl again.

So what started as a challenge has taught me so much. I couldn’t be more grateful.

The theory to my little booklet, is 5 minutes by 5 minutes you can give God an hour of prayer. I really like this theory. I don’t feel I’ve ever had a problem praying, but I’ve had a problem keeping a relationship with God. I became painfully aware of this when I read the first paragraph and couldn’t stop crying. I think I read the first page for a few days before I ventured into reading anything else.
I’d had a rough day with decisions that would affect Emma. As I was crawling into bed mentally and physically exhausted I grabbed the booklet. I just opened it, the page opened to “Forgiveness” I don’t feel that I usually have an issue with forgiveness. But today, today I needed this. I felt like I heard Him say,

Dear Betsy,

<smack> I think you should start here. By the way, you asked for my help, here is my reminder that I am always watching. And I’m still holding your hand, hoping to lead you the way.

Ever so lovingly,
God

You do kinda have to admire the humor from upstairs….

“Life is too short and too precious to waste being trapped and bound in the chains of unforgiveness. Let it go today. You won’t be sorry. Forgiveness begins with a decision; the emotions follow.” I needed to hear this. I have always forgiven if it’s been easy. I’ve never been one to throw the past in someone’s face. But that doesn’t mean I don’t hold on to it and continue to judge them. I say that I do this to protect myself. Is it really protection? Or a reason to point a finger and blame? I don’t want to be that person.
I was once complaining about how someone wasn’t seeing things my way. They weren’t choosing to grow like I was. They were judgmental and selfish. This person drove me crazy. “They know not what they do,” I was told. As a child can only be held responsible for what they know, you cannot expect someone to see or want what you do. If they didn’t have the desire to grow, then I can’t get upset. They didn’t know what they were missing or any other way to see it. So if they didn’t have the knowledge, then how can I still point a finger?
Yes, I still get frustrated when someone doesn’t see my point of view. But that’s not really fair, now is it? Not everyone thinks like me. Not everyone has had my experiences. Not everyone would my choices. So how can I get upset just because they may not have had the same thought process?
This booklet led me through many mini prayers about who to forgive and how. Little things like, “I forgive every member of Society…” to big things like, “I forgive my Mother….Father….Siblings….” I was unaware at how many places I needed to forgive. This wasn’t too hard for me. I wanted to let go. I wanted the burden off my shoulders. It is something I will continue to work on.
I finally feel I can breathe.

I was starting a new job. I didn’t have a license so I was piecing rides together. My new job was about 30-40 minutes away from home. My first leg of my trip, I was dropped off at my friends house. As we were discussing what days I’d be dropped there and what time, she asked if I’d go to the gym with her. She’d been thinking about losing weight and wanted someone to go with. When I was medically discharged from the military they threatened me with back surgery. A surgery that may or may not have helped with my pain. I’d been living on pain meds for a year and now they didn’t know if they could fix me? I went for a second opinion. The civilian doctor told me it was all muscular. If I’d go to the gym and strengthen my muscles I’d be in less pain. And I’d be able to have a career in hair and massage with out excruciating pain. I was size 9 when I got out of the military, I’d never been super skinny but never felt heavy. I’d been home for 2 years and gained quite a bit. I realize I was 22 and buying size 16. In 2 years I’d gained 35 pounds. (Of course, working next to a Casey’s and eating pizza and drinking monster everyday didn’t help!) My back pain was getting worse, and the words of the civilian doctor rang through my mind.

So May of 2007  I walked into the gym petrified. I was gonna be the new girl and everyone was going to be looking at the fat chick trying to run. I wore pajama pants and baggy shirts so no one could see my size. I went early so I didn’t have to see anyone else while sweating profusely and just trying to walk for 30 minutes. I was scared out of my mind of people in the gym laughing at me. Afraid no one would take me seriously, afraid of meat heads and those damn skinny chicks. You know the ones, they look good in anything and don’t really have to be there?

I began setting my goals anyway. I wanted this and was going to find a way to do it. Working two jobs, with no license, I was at the gym 4 days a week. My starting weight was 178, size 16 in womens, size 36 in mens, 36 DD, 42 in hips. I couldn’t be tiny cause I’d always been in the larger numbers. I just wanted to be an 11 again. I knew it’d be a long road. I had no clue what I was in for. I started with the cardio. I was lucky to walk for 15 minutes and bike 15 minutes. Then that became easier, so I’d run one minute, walk the next for as long as I could. I went 4-5 times a week. I started making my portions smaller. But I wasn’t ready to give up the good stuff. (ie. booze and food) Over the course of a year, I lost 20 pounds, 4 pant sizes and could run 3 miles without dying.

The day I dropped the fateful 20 lbs was the day I found out I was pregnant. I spoke with my doctor and he told me to keep up what I could. My body would tell me what I could and couldn’t do. He also added that the longer I could exercise during the pregnancy, the easier birth would be. (Incentive? Darn right!) I worked out until I was 7 months pregnant. I was lucky and didn’t even have to buy maternity clothes until 6 months prego. (Side note: A woman in my local gym was Rxing workouts until the DAY she gave birth. Our bodies our pretty phenomenal and she is my HERO!)

After having Emma, I couldn’t find that gumption I had before. (As you’ve read in other posts I had done a lot of soul searching because of her.) I knew I wanted to become a model. I’d been dreaming of being a model since I was a little girl. But never knew how to do it. I started looking at outfits and other models and decided I loved pin-ups. They were curvy and everything feminine. A little bit of skin but nothing showing. Classic beauty.

I wasn’t comfortable in this new, after baby, body of mine. Hell, I wasn’t comfortable before baby body. Now I was painfully aware of how uncomfortable with myself I was. After 8 months of making excuses, I started back at the gym. I was without a license still so I started biking to the gym, then to school. I decided I wanted to not only be skinnier but to be stronger too. I started talking to one of the trainers I used to work with. She took me on as a challenge.

With the help of a trainer once a week, a complete change in diet, and going 5 days a week, I lost 6 inches. I had quit looking at weight and my body shape. I just wanted to be healthy. I couldn’t do a sit up, a push-up, or even do a lunge. I had no balance, no strength, and no coordination. I was working full time, running a fundraiser, and being a new mom. My gym time was my me time. And my determination and stubbornness brought me every morning.

Slowly I was able to do girly push-ups, then real push ups. I could work out for an hour instead of a half hour. I could actually do a real squat, with weight, instead of holding on to someone just to do a lunge. Steadily I was buying smaller and smaller clothes. My friends were yelling at me because I wasn’t wearing the right size. I’d stop buying anything smaller than a 7 because there was no way I could be smaller. Then a friend dragged me into her store and started shoving pants at me. “No more baggy pants, no more boys pants, no more hiding in clothes!” I wasn’t getting out of this. That was day I found out I’d dropped to a size 4. It took me 2 years and a pregnancy but I’d lost over 50 pounds. I’d gone from a 16 down to a 4.

So here’s my rant: Do NOT tell me you don’t have time. I’ve gone to the gym working two jobs and going to school full time. I’ve worked out pregnant, with no license, working one job and a fundraiser. I’ve done it during a divorce and becoming a single mom. I’ve done this myself. For me. If you don’t want to go, don’t. But don’t tell me you don’t have time. Also, do NOT tell me that because I’m so small I don’t get it. I remember a time when I shopped in the plus section. When I hid in my clothes and hated summer. I remember a time was the awkward girl at the gym. I remember being envious of all the tiny girls at the gym.

I remember the day I chose a different path.

I made my commitment to myself. I did this, you can too. Just put down the excuses and realize YOU ARE WORTH IT!

P.S. Little secret of those skinny chicks at the gym? They aren’t mean or judgmental. They can probably all tell the same story I just did.

Hi Betsy,
Do I have your correct last name? Doughrty
Several things:

Here is the link to my website if you want to post it to fb.
www.consciousfreedom.net

A short description of PSYCH-K.
PSYCH-K is a process that allows you change your subconscious programming. If we use the analogy of a computer, subconscious programming would be the software on the hard drive. If you have two or more programs that conflict with each other at worst it can crash the system and you lose your data. At best it really slows down the whole system, you don’t get much done in the time you have and the programs you can run on that computer are limited. When you fix the conflicting programs your whole system operates quickly, easily and efficiently. Everything is easier.
So it is with our subconscious programming. The P-K process allows you to know what your subconscious believes, keep what works and change what doesn’t. You can even install new programs, like “I love myself unconditionally”, “All of my relationships feed my soul”, “I allow myself to be more successful than my ______” , etc. Once your subconscious has the program it operates effortlessly and automatically in the background affecting your moods and your behaviors. It’s a breeze to use and only takes a weekend to learn. More info at my website, www.consciousfreedom.net

Here are the links to the PSYCH-K video in many parts.
The Biology of Perception, The Psychology of Change

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UF3wp479Jg&feature=related

Our instructor agreement says that we should always capitalize PSYCH-K and sometimes it feels to me like I’m web shouting, hahaha!

‘As a deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for You, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?’ (Psalm 42:1-2)

Halloween is coming up, trying to decide what costumes to wear. I’m leaning towards pirates. Maybe even getting Emma a parrot for her shoulder. As a kid, please don’t hold this against me, my favorite costume was Dianna Troy. Yes, the curly black haired beautiful woman on Star Trek. My family was a Trekkie family. I think we dressed in Star Trek for 3 or 4 years in a row. My mom was always some one from the medical unit, dad was Jean Luc Picard, and I was Dianna Troy. *sighs wistfully*
It dawned on me this morning that I always wanted to dress up like her, because of my crush on her. My first two crushes from the big screen were Dianna and Sara Jessica Parker in Hocus Pocus. And I never knew? Reeeeeallllly, Betsy? I have to laugh a little at myself.
I dressed like a boy and fought with boys. Not in the “I think you’re cute <giggles>” kind of chase. More of the “You annoy me, and I’d like to maim you” kind of way. I remember blushing if a cute girl talked to me, if I could even answer her. Or if there was a movie on that I liked the girl in, because I didn’t want my mom to find out. I always got along with the boys better. (I tend to think a bit more like a boy as well.) I loooooved playing basketball, but hated being in the changing rooms. For one, I was one of the most picked on kids in school. On the bus too, for that matter. For two, I always wanted to look at the other girls but thought something was wrong with me.
Girls didn’t like girls. Girls were to be with boys and that’s it. I’d never seen two girls together. Hell, I was so sheltered I’d never seen a black kid until like second grade.  (The first black kid I met, later became my first adopted brother.) Yup, I was that white girl that went to a catholic school. Protected from the world and sheltered from life.
When I became pregnant with my daughter, I decided it was time to come out of my shell. To finally figure out who I was, and who I wanted to become. I changed a lot when I was pregnant. I was loud, in your face, workaholic/party girl, a selfish girl, someone unwilling to grow up. A true free spirit with no understanding of responsibility. Pointing fingers as a victim instead of owning up to responsibility. I was now going to be the adult, the mother. This petrified me. I was going to give birth to a human being and going to get married to a man. How did I end up here? Where did I start down this path? I started texting my two best friends asking how to get out. How do I accept who I am? How do I tell my family “I know I’m 7 months prego, but I don’t really want to be with boys anymore. Not to mention the man I’m engaged to.” Even more of a question, how do you sit down with your fiancee and say “By the way, I think I’m gay. Sorry I’ve been leading you on”….? I didn’t have to tell him. He read my phone.
We did split for awhile. I moved into my own place by myself, prego and all. But my family explained that it was hormones. That he was a good guy and I was ridiculous to just “try a phase.” That grass wasn’t greener on the other side. That part of growing up was excepting the life I chose. Three months later I was a mom and a wife.
What happened to the little girl with the crush on Dianna Troy? Where did I lose me? As I put my life together, I wondered this everyday. I’d been starting to follow my childhood dreams…there was a piece missing still. I didn’t want a specific woman, but found myself longing what friends of mine had. Felt more and more comfortable at the local gay bar. I’d drunkenly call a good friend and ask how to “be gay.” My eyes started to wander….my heart had already left. It was my time to leave before I hurt someone anymore. Especially me. I remember vividly the *Aha* moment I knew it was time. He spent an hour and a half explaining to me how he already knew I didn’t want to be with men. All my friends just smiled. But how did I get here? How did I lower what I really wanted? Did I really worry so much about what people thought of me, that I chose to be someone else? Did I really get tortured so much that I couldn’t stand up for myself? I feel a little (a lot) like I let myself down. I don’t regret any choice I’ve made. But I do believe in understanding choices. Why I went down certain roads.
The answer is simple and won’t happen again. I played victim to being teased and hid in my mind for fear of what people would think.
So my path to be true to myself started. I can only teach my daughter by example. No putting aside my passions, my morals, my truths to my heart.