by TI CONKLE
One can have access to diet templates and the best of coaching, a full membership at the finest of training facilities, and the support of friends and family, and still fail at the margins of experience. Experience in addressing that which drives us.
It wasn’t until I sat down with myself and asked, “What do I really, actually want right now?” and then listened for the brokenhearted response, that change could begin to happen. What I wanted was a hug. Reassurance. Someone to tell me that I was enough. That my best efforts as a struggling single mom, a stressed out investigator, a determined athlete and tenaciously open-hearted warrior… were understood. What I wanted was to be loved. Accepted for exactly who I am. Celebrated, not tolerated. What I wanted was to believe in myself again. To find the confidence I lost somewhere along the broken road that has been the past three decades. What I wanted was to surface. To breach. To inhale. To live again. What I wanted was to know who I am. To come home to myself.
What I reached for instinctively was carbohydrates — preferably in bread, pasta, excellent wine, microbrew beer and single malt Scotch. The result? Heavy heart, heavy stomach, heavy feet. I had become the queen of distraction: throwing all available resources at filling quiet time with activity, chasing relationship, numbing… always numbing. It occurred to me that there is not enough pizza or beer or wine or Scotch or drugs in all of the world to numb the pain of one who longs to wake up. To live.
I changed my mind. I began to slow down, to insist on asking myself what I truly, really needed. Every day. Several times each day. It turns out, I need a lot.