Do You Take Risks?

Are You A Risk-Taker? 

A few weeks ago I found myself caught up in the National Spelling Bee that was on television. While I know this doesn’t sound like it would be entertaining, it was actually rather fascinating and especially for someone like me who used to read the dictionary for fun. However, it brought back a memory from years ago when I myself was in a spelling bee (the one and only time)...and has been the inspiration for this blog. 

I was in fifth grade, which was probably one of the hardest years I spent in school. My parents were getting divorced, the church I so loved had asked my mother to leave because of the divorce, and everything I knew to be true in my life was turned upside down. As I replayed that memory in my mind, I was hit with a huge awareness…that spell bee was the last time I took a real risk.

Thirty years later? Let me explain more.

The spelling bee was set up into categories, or levels of difficulty and some of it was based on the grade you were in. My memory of the specific details is a wee bit fuzzy after all these years but the outcome of the spelling bee is something I have carried with me for almost thirty years. I only knew one word in the hardest category on the board, but I knew if I got that one word, I would win. How awesome would that be?

Now, as an adult I can look back on this situation and tell you all the reasons why my decision was not well thought-out, nor did I have a solid plan other than my ability to spell the one word I knew correctly. It was risky in every sense of the word. But my ten-year-old spirit had never heard of “calculated risks." She was a risk-taker. 

When I approached the stage, I was asked which category I wanted to pick from…with a mixture of pride and confidence I boldly selected the most difficult category, the category I knew my one word would be in. Congratulations. That was the one word I knew how to spell. And out of thousands of choices, I banked everything I had on the word congratulations.

Oh the irony…

I am sure I don’t really need to tell you that the word I got was not congratulations. I don’t recall what it was all these years later, but I do know it wasn’t what I had planned for. As an adult I can giggle at my naiveté and how silly it was to think that out of millions of words possible I would be so lucky to get the word congratulations.

However, as a ten-years-old little girl, I heard this confirmation about taking risks: congratulations you failed. I was embarrassed and defeated. I was never in another spelling bee, even though I love to learn new words. I never took another risk that I couldn’t control the outcome.

What can I learn from this awareness?

It is amazing to me, how an event like this has stuck with me all these years and deeply impacted my future reality. I had never really thought about why I was uncomfortable taking risks, I just knew I was. And now it all makes so much sense…the question I have to ask myself now: do I stay living in the past with a memory from thirty years ago or do I ditch the emotional baggage? 

As an adult I know this to be true…life is full of risks, some more calculated than others but at the end of the day, you have to be willing to risk it all if you want to live a life you love. Myself included. Are you ready? Let's do it!

Live boldly and unafraid, 
Sarah Michelle 

Author . Coach . Trainer . SpeakerAuthor of Tales of Fried Bologna: A Journey to Forgiveness

Learning How to Love Unconditionally

Learning How to Love Unconditionally 

A few weeks ago I attended an event with one of my favorites, Sunny Dawn Johnston. The day was focused on healing and using the different modalities available to us, specific to the arch angels. But like most self-help, healing events such as these, there is always something more that comes to light. For me, it was the realization that I don’t know how to love unconditionally. Ouch.

For the past few weeks, I have sat with this new awareness in the pit of my stomach. I have experienced an array of emotions from a deep sadness to a seething anger at the one person I hold the most responsible for this missing skill in my life: my mother. A flash of past relationships, or shall I say, failed relationships fill my thoughts and further my emotions spiral. I can’t help but wonder if this condition contributed to the lack of love in my life. I am forced to take responsibility. And now, the next question...how do I learn to love unconditionally?

Growing up my mother’s daughter came with its own set of unique conditions. I learned at a very young age not to rock the boat; being good meant survival. Being perfect though, meant I might earn the affection and love I was so desperate to receive from my mother. The last time I saw her, she stood in my kitchen, looked me up and down and said to me “Well you aren’t too overweight that you couldn’t stand to lose another five or so pounds.” I was 109 pounds and in the best physical shape of my adult life. I had finally gotten to her perfect weight on the scale and it still wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough.

Today, I am left with the harsh reality that I am perfectionist in almost everything I do and living with my self is a real bitch somedays. Living up to my own ridiculous standards is nearly impossible for me, how do I expect another human being to do it?

I have spent hours rolling this around in my head…and now putting it into words helps me gain some much needed clarity. I like to fancy myself a bit of a hippie with the notion that the world should be full of love and everyone wearing flowers in their hair. To realize that I don’t really know how to love unconditionally is big blow to my ego.

I have thought about all the areas of my life that this impacts, and not in a positive way…like how I love myself, my body, my thoughts…if I am being honest, it is a big judgement-fest going on in my head, and all because of this deeply rooted need to be perfect…in the quest for the one thing I long for the most: unconditional love. Oh the irony…

In the dictionary the word “unconditional” means without condition; absolute. My curiosity wonders what the word absolute means: free from imperfections; complete. Perfect; free from restrictions or limitations. There is the answer I am looking for, and perhaps a better way to define what it means to love…without restrictions or limitations.

I know I am not the only one who feels the same way and I certainly know I am not the only one with a parent who rationed out the affection. We grow up in a world that places conditions and restrictions on nearly everything we do, feel, or imagine from our first breath to our last. We are taught to judge at a very early age… what is good or bad, pretty or ugly, too short, too tall, too fat, too skinny…we are taught to judge before we are taught how to love. And when we place judgement or restriction, we can’t help but stop the flow of love. To judge is a contradiction to the very essence of love.

I have two beautiful little dogs and when I think about them, it is pure joy. I miss them when they are not with me and I can’t stay mad at them for more than a few minutes, because as soon as I look at their sweet faces, my heart melts. The joy that they bring me is unconditional. They do not care if I am having a good day or a bad day…what I am wearing, how much I weigh, or how much money is my bank account. They are the very definition of absolute love. Perhaps I do know how to love unconditionally…just not another human being. But I am a work in progress.

While I am still learning how to apply my unconditional adoration of my sweet pups to another human, I have come to understand that love is a choice. And I am capable of making that choice. I am an adult and I get to choose what I define as beautiful, what is good or bad. I get to control the flow of love in my life.

I am tired of not receiving the unconditional love that surrounds me in all forms, because I am too obsessed with being perfect. I am tired of limiting the love I give because it doesn’t met a condition that was created by someone else. I am far from perfect and will likely never attain perfection in this human life. So why not just be? Be perfectly imperfect and in-love with life. Love is a choice. It’s the only choice.

Sending you much love,

Sarah Michelle

Author . Coach . Trainer . Speaker

Author of Tales of Fried Bologna: A Journey to Forgiveness

Saying Goodbye to 2015

Saying Goodbye to 2015 

Saying goodbye is never easy and yet, as one year ends another begins with little we can do to stop it. It is outside of our control…along with much in life, it is outside of our control...but as a humans, that is the one thing we want to do. Control the outcome, the income…control what happens to us and around us. And it seems like the harder we try to stay in control, the more control we lose. At the end of the day, control is an illusion…

On August 30, 2015 I went through the worst nightmare I could ever imagine…my beautiful little dog Diego was viciously attacked by a dog we had rescued from the shelter three months prior. It was an average Sunday morning that turned my life upside down. In the days that followed, I was forced to surrender in ways I never thought possible.

Diego came into my life ten years ago at a very pivotal point in my journey…I was a broken person with little hope left. He is unconditional in all ways which has taught me how to love from deep down inside. Diego restored my faith in life…gave me hope and a reason to fight when all I wanted to do was give up. He has been my best friend for ten years…and I am still reeling from the heartbreak and the harsh reality that my choices nearly cost him his life. How could I ever forgive myself?

Two days following the surgery, Diego was not fighting off the infection from the dog bite wounds…the vets were concerned and told me in more than one conversation that “he was not out of the woods.” I stood in the middle of the pet emergency room with Dr. Guzman and had to ask the difficult question: am I doing the right thing? I did not want my little man to suffer…the ultimate test of love.

It’s been four months now and I am happy to report that Diego has done remarkably well in his recovery. It has been an adjustment for all of us…he is definitely a different dog since the attack but he is a fighter. I am in awe of his bravery and courage. Ten years later, he continues to be one of my greatest teachers.

In my human’ness, I can’t help but wrestle with the feelings of regret and anger…there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t replay some portion of the attack in my mind. I think I have cried every day for the past four months, some days more than once. Is it possible to be grateful and angry at the same time?

As I type this, my sweet dog is lying on my lap napping peacefully…I am always happy to oblige when he wants to snuggle…and I am deeply grateful we still have these moments together. But when he struggles to breath or throws up for no reason, I am filled with fear, regret and anger. How could I let this happen? My sweet, beautiful boy…my only job was to protect him and I failed…miserably.

Back to my opening statement…control is an illusion. The most heartbreaking part of this story isn’t what happened to Diego but the fact I had no control over it…in the moments during the attack I was helpless. My screams fell on deaf ears, my physical strength was no match and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I have spent hours in the “coulda-shoulda-woulda” space…what could I have done differently? Why didn’t I do {insert a thousand different ideas here}?

Prior to this happening, I thought of myself as a strong person, someone capable of defending or protecting myself and those I care about. But when the moment came, I was helpless…I was not in control of anything. This has been a heartbreaking realization for me, in ways I can’t even begin to write about. I am delusional in the fact that I want life to be full of love and harmony…the smell of blood stayed with me for days. I would never survive in a war, and after months of beating myself up, I am finally able to say that is okay. I like being a lover, and I’ll leave the fighting up to those who can.

As I prepare to say goodbye to 2015, it is my hope by sharing this with you, I can begin to heal and move past this experience a better, kinder, stronger person. In order to forgive myself, I must find value in this experience.  I must learn more than I lost…as you have read, this has not been easy for me to do. In my need to control, I want to go back in time and have a re-do...but in reality, the only thing I can control is what I choose to learn and how I will become better for having lived through it.  

During the weeks that followed the attack, I was overwhelmed by hundreds of people who sent their love and support…some even sent money to help with Diego’s medical expenses. I had complete strangers reach out, including a teenage boy who goes to school with my nephew. He sent me the sweetest message via Facebook telling me that he was praying for Diego. The kindness and compassion we received still takes my breath away…to think ten years ago I felt no love, no hope…perhaps the greatest gift Diego could give me…to show me just how much love surrounds me, and how much support is available when asked for.  Perhaps this is the lesson. Perhaps this awareness is what makes me a better person. 

Happy New Year – much love and peace, Sarah Michelle