Wednesday, July 29, 2020

Accountability is Awesome (and why I've always avoided it)

Part One
I just had a major revelation as I was sitting down to write this post - mind blown! So excited to share it with you!!

 I've always actively avoided situations and relationships in which there might be even the slightest possibility of any degree of accountability. My greatest fear was that I would end up disappointing those to whom I was to give account, thus diminishing my worth in their eyes, and hence, my own. 

I wasn't actually aware of this, of course. All I knew was I preferred to work alone. Most everyone dreads group projects in school, but I feared them so much that I would generally lie my way out of them. I would fake sick, pretend I'd lost whatever it was I was supposed to be working on, or any other flavour of falsehood I could come up with. Because I was a good student and well-versed in the art of deception, I generally got away with it. 

I tended to keep people at arm's length, too. I had lots of friends, but I wouldn't allow any of them to get too close. I invariably focused on everyone else's issues, but would very rarely reveal any of my own. (To be fair, I believed for most of my life that I didn't have any issues - ha! Double ha! It makes me shake my head and smile a little to remember how oblivious I was...) 

I literally just figured out why I put so much effort into evading accountability. My estimation of my own worth was completely dependent upon what other people thought of me. If I let someone close enough to see the mess I knew I was, their view of me would plummet. By keeping my distance, I was able to craft my own little show in which I was the smart, talented, sweet, kind, helpful, caring star. 

I put on a show because I knew the truth: I was a complete disaster, utterly incapable of consistency in anything. But that was the bi-polar disorder talking!! It was that brain chemistry imbalance that caused the extreme ups and downs, making it next to impossible for me to be everything I thought I needed to be. But I didn't know it! 

Bipolar disorder is not an issue for me anymore (HALLELUJAH!). But those habits of isolation and fear and disguise have been seriously hard to shake. I've been making some progress towards more open and honest relationships, but it's very easy for me to slip back into my old ways when things start to get too hard or too real.  

All of this to say... I'm looking for some people to hold me accountable for an idea I have - a dream, really. It's way over the top; approaching ridiculous. But I discovered some stats about ideas and accountability that were extremely interesting.

According to current research, if I simply have an idea, there's a ten percent chance it will happen.
If I make a decision to make it happen, the likelihood of success goes up to twenty-five percent. If I choose a date, the odds of actually following through jump to forty percent. If I plan exactly how I'll see my idea through, my idea has a fifty percent chance.  If I have the courage to tell someone else about my idea, my success rate is sixty-five percent. Sounds good, right?

BUT, if I ask another person (or people) to hold me accountable for my action plan...  and they do it? A NINETY-FIVE PERCENT CHANCE that my wild idea will become a reality.  

-------------------------------

Wow, I'm a little surprised at how even thinking about writing down my dream is freaking me out. I think I need a little more time before I share it with you. If I haven't posted the second half in a day or two, please get on my case. (Let's see how accurate that accountability study really is 😖)

Thank you for grace, my friends. I appreciate you all more than I can say. ❤


10 Signs of an Accountable Culture (Infographic)

Tuesday, June 23, 2020

My Shot

It's been a long, long time since I sat before this screen, hitting little buttons with letters on them to try to make sense of my life. I've missed it. I've missed you, my wonderful, diverse, supportive, encouraging blog-readers. Blogging has been a powerful means of connection and healing in my life over the past ten years, and I would be foolish to abandon it. I forgot for a little while, but then I remembered. So, I'm back. 😊

It's late June of 2020 - the year of Covid 19. Like most of the world, I've spent the last three months at home, hoping to contribute to the universal effort to flatten the curve. In times like these, when our busyness and the outward endeavours that typically identify us are stripped away, we're generally left with nowhere to hide from our very real, very flawed selves.

I don't know about you, but I haven't handled it very well. Oh, I've done a few things of value: connected more deeply with my family, started writing a novel, planted a garden, brushed up on my French, wrote some poetry... But a lot of my days were very slumpy, characterized by fear, indecision, lethargy and indulgence.

A little back story... Most of you are aware of the weight loss journey I embarked upon almost three years ago. Thanks to the science of Keto, I was able to lose eighty pounds. I reached my lowest weight since my teens a little over a year ago. Oh, how we celebrated! You all were so kind and cheered me on at each milestone. I so appreciated every word of encouragement I received from every one of you - you blessed me tremendously ❤

You also may have noticed (or not 😉) that I haven't mentioned it lately. Well, here's the plain, painfully-honest truth: I've gained back fifty pounds over the past fifteen months. It took a year for twenty to creep back; then three quarantine-months to pack on thirty more.

So many of you commended me for my "hard work". I tried to tell you then, and I'll try again now - Keto wasn't hard for me, for two reasons. As long as I stuck to my Keto-friendly list of foods, I could have as much as I wanted. And the rapid, practically-effortless weight loss easily kept me on the Keto straight-and-narrow when faced with cheesecake or pizza or any other high-carb goodies.

It was near the beginning of that third Keto-year, when the numbers on the scale started to go in the wrong direction, that I figured Keto wasn't working for me any more and that I should try to reintegrate back to "normal" eating (whatever that is...). That's when I discovered Keto had done absolutely nothing for me in terms of my life-long dysfunctional relationship with food.

Coincidentally (or not), it was right around this time when my life became extremely uncertain. I had no idea what was going to happen next, plan and contrive as I might (and did). All of a sudden, everything was up in the air, and there was no way to predict how it would all shake out.

I had the power to make myself feel better - at least temporarily. I had been practicing it for years. Eating delicious food and reading a good book never failed to insulate me against my worries and fears. If I couldn't control my unruly circumstances, I'd escape and create my own safe haven. Books to take me to another place and food to numb the pain - that was my life. I always maintained an active outer life, but this was my secret sanctuary.

It wasn't any different when I was Keto-ing; I just ate Keto food. When the anxiety ramped up, I just ate more, leading to the gradual weight-gain. I had been off Keto for about a month when Covid hit; that's when my dysfunction shifted into high gear. I won't go into details, but maybe you can imagine what it might look like for someone (who is not pregnant) to gain twenty-five pounds in two months? It wasn't pretty, folks.

That's when I decided to go back to Keto, since I wasn't willing to give up the comfort that food provided. But my fail-safe plan didn't work, either, and I picked up another five pounds before I realized I had a real problem on my hands.

And so, here I am. Finally able to see that I've never surrendered this part of my life to the One who has the power to help. (It really hit me today that self-control is a fruit of the Spirit...) I want to fuel my body with healthy, delicious, nourishing food and enjoy an occasional treat. I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions, eating ridiculous amounts of nutritionally-void junk in order to self-medicate. I feel like this is a good place to start.

This is what I want this part of my life (heck, all the parts of my life!) to look like:

"Self-discipline is a skill. It's the ability to focus and overcome distractions. 
It involves acting according to what you know is right instead of how you feel
in the moment (perhaps tired or lazy or uneasy). It typically requires sacrificing
immediate pleasure and excitement for what matters most in life." 
(Marc and Angel) 

I've been slowly acquiring a measure of self-discipline in some other parts of my life; this one is my Everest. It will require identifying negative behaviours and practices, as well as where they came from and why, and replacing them with healthy, life-giving ones. (Not to mention lots of self-love... working on that, too ❤)

I've tried many, many times over the years to "fix" this. I thought I had finally done so with Keto. But it was like getting a hair cut to cure a headache - it only addressed the symptoms of my dysfunction - not the source. When I realized I had failed after having so much apparent success, I felt for a time that I had missed my shot, that this was it. The thought sickened me.

But the more I think about it, I don't think we ever just get one shot. I think there's a Grace that catches us when we fall and offers a lifetime of shots, of mulligans, of do-overs. Today, I'm grateful for that.


The real Joy 😊








Thursday, January 9, 2020

45

I love writing this yearly post for several reasons, but mostly because I don't have to agonize over a clever title 😏

This is my seventh year of writing a birthday post. Maybe it's just because my birthday is so close to New Year's, but I find as January 10th approaches, I'm in even more of a mood for pondering the past and wondering about what's to come . Birthdays are a good chance to stop and reflect.

Forty-four was a good year; a great year, really. Funny, I can't recall anything astounding or monumental that happened... Well, I did reach the eighty pound mark in my weigh loss journey, and I did cross off a bucket-list item - a family beach vacation in a PEI cottage... okay, a couple of awesome things happened this past year 😊

One major event of the year that seemed awful at the time (but turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me) was my crisis of identity/faith/purpose and subsequent surrender. I have never known more peace than in these past few months - I KNOW that I'm doing exactly what I'm meant to do. This is a very beautiful thing ❤

Overall, forty-four has been a year of trust and obedience and grace and learning to follow faithfully and willingly and joyfully the path set before me. I've seen significant growth in the area of self-discipline, which is HUGE for me - it's been something I've struggled with and failed at my whole life. It's very gratifying to see progress being made!

As I look to forty-five, I'm feeling... (hmmm, I just sat here for five minutes, trying to figure out exactly how I'm feeling... interesting 😖)

Here's why: I've been bombarded this past year, but especially these last couple of weeks, by so many Facebook and IG posts telling me I should dream big, chase my dreams, get out there and live the life I want, make things happen for myself, create a life I don't need a vacation from, live out my priorities, get rid of everything in my life that doesn't bring me joy, and on and on... me, Me, ME!

The thing is, I'm hearing another, more compelling voice; a still, small one that is calling me to lay my life down, to die to myself, to pour myself out, to love and give and sacrifice and serve. Sound familiar?

I've been confused lately; those loud voices were starting to make me feel like the life I feel called to live is the wrong one; that to want to live a simple life of service and sacrifice is not enough. That it's a cop-out, cowardly, small, close-minded and fearful. That I'm not living up to my potential and letting the world down if I'm not pursuing big, bold, beautiful dreams.

The one convincing proof that the way I've chosen is worth the effort is that I ALWAYS get filled up again after pouring myself out - I never fail to receive new life, real joy, fresh hope and revitalizing energy.

And so my solitary goal for forty-five is to joyfully and expectantly follow where I'm led and give everything in me that there is to give at every opportunity, secure in the knowledge that I'll always be refueled, refreshed, renewed, restored and ready to love and give again.

It feels like a tall order some days. Surrender is not always easy. But I never walk this path alone, and I'm so grateful for that ❤