Okay, okay… A random cat finds you, you think it may be lost and you give it the freedom to return to “home”,only “home” is now your house and she gets all prego… whaddaydo?
Watch life begin, of course.
The last 12 weeks have been brutal… for me. Separations; mom wanting space, bigger poops in the litter box, everyone eating me out of house and home but ultimately jealousy. Let me tell you about my late affection.
Little Rascal (now known as Khajiit) is one of the two calico’s from my tiny fur tribe. She was the last one to offer me her sweetness. When she finally gave forth, it was precious beyond words… but our beginnings were not so kosher.
In my observation Itty Bitty and Khajiit were in cat-hoots. They like a bit of that bite and claw action. If someone was biting at my toes, it was that Lil Rascal Khajiit. In the beginning there was minimal holding and reluctance to kiss; week 11 when Peanut Buddy (now Otto) left, the tides shifted. Lil Miss shifted from “battle bro” to “cuddle now.” I had no complaints. She jumped on the kissy train and settled down a bit.
Of course this begs the question of sibling dynamics, even in the animal world. Catland was now fully saturated with females and one male, Big Boy . Big Boy calmed down at least five fold without Peanut Buddy offering some male petition. Khajiit was in second place when it came to strength, size and agility without harassing Momma. The Game was on.
Khajiit seemed to desire some self definition right away; she was a middle baby and despite her distinction in the looks department, her evasive nature made her hard to pin down or in human terms “force love upon”. She seemed astute and willing to sit on the sidelines in order to form her own opinions. I regret to say that more than once she was at the mercy of my clumsy nature around fast moving objects (namely my clumsy ass feet). I definitely stepped on her tail more than once but always apologized and gave love afterward. At one point I asked myself why it was always her that was at the mercy of my lack of grace…. obviously she came to grips with it because when she decided to love, it was super obvious.
All of sudden she wants to cuddle, FIRST! Everyone else is running around like an idiot and she is like “Nah, I’m gonna grab that sweet warm spot behind the shaggy fat persons legs.” History is made! But Her Story is just beginning.
Jenny and Seneca wanted a kittery. They NEEDed a kittery; my house is like a cat drug den… who will fall victim? After Otto left, I let them all know ‘Some one is waiting for you, and they can’t wait to show you a whole new world.” Before Jenny came over to meet and greet, I told them “It’s equal opportunity, but I have my feelings.” For some reason I knew LIL would make her mark in the introductory love department, and she did not disappoint.
Jenny came over for a meet and greet with a nature so gentle, I am sure all of them were surprised. That nature is just what Lil needed if only to give them a run for their money. Jenny wants to toilet train and walk on a leash and that is exactly the kind of world exposure newly named Khajiit needs. A whole new world of love and adventure. Independence and dependence with the perfect balance of personality.
Khajiit is currently causing a riff of jealousy with her kin; within 48 hours of being in her new home she was given the opportunity to star in a music video from SunnyDale High, Seneca’s rad Wyoming band that thematically follows Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Khajiit is going to be a hit.
You should definitely check out her acting debut with a great soundtrack by Seneca’s band. Also you should definitely check out Sunnydale High when they play WARPED Tour this summer in Denver, if you do, you should tell them “Khajiit sent you.”
May all my kitteries rock and find their love-home dreams come true.
Check out Khajiit’s debut and Sunnydale High’s music at this adorable link.
May the Meows be with you, Lord Kittery knows we all could use it right now.
The time has come for the kitteries to say goodbye to me and Momma. Time to go into the great unknown that exists outside of my bedroom. Time to bond and claim space in places that are not “here.”
PeanutBuddy, also referred to as “My Lil Lion” was my one solitary light colored kit in the brood. He is strong, and sweet. The minute the kitteries pics went up, people were most interested in him. I went with my first friend showing interests with an intent to re-home them with people I know, or people who have been vetted by people I know.
This week I have really felt the need to cull the herd; Momma is getting irritated and they are growing at a rapid pace which makes a small room feel even smaller. PeanutBuddy was the strongest and biggest and was making daily efforts to test his strength, endurance and agility on his poor tired Mommacat. Her irritation was palatable as she would attempt to shake him off or subdue him long enough to jump to unreachable heights.
At night, I wrangle the kits into an upside down laundry basket so that I can spend a night without being ambushed or having random objects drop from shelves. This morning I noticed they had grown big enough to require more than one laundry basket, so it’s probably a good thing they like a nice cuddle puddle.
Last night I met with my friend and her mother, to come meet the kit and sent them home with a pillow made of my decimated bed spread; fully engulfed in the clan scent. I wanted to make sure their current cat was cool with it, and I want something familiar for him to go to in his new home. Their current kitty slept the night on the pillow, and will hopefully share and accept Peanut once she recognizes Peanuts smell in there.
Before they came over I debriefed the kitteries about our visitors and their intentions and our future together. I told them all that the people were specifically interested in PB. Once my friend and her mother arrived the kits dynamic changed. PB who is usually quite gregarious, hung back and acted skitterish. Everyone else stepped to the forefront, which is rare for a couple of them. They actively engaged in play while PB hid under the dresser, unsure of his future. Toward the end of the hang out he emerged and gave socialization a go, his little heart pitter pattering with nerves.
After our guests left, I told them it wasn’t certain, but it was likely that PB would be going away tomorrow. I explained that it wasn’t my lack of love, it was simply not economical or fair, they need their space. We all need our space and deserve it. Lots of love was given, but I could feel another shift in the dynamic. I would liken it to rebellion.
This morning, ( the day after) I was given confirmation that PeanutBuddy had a new home and that he would be leaving this afternoon. As soon as I told everyone what was up the rebellion kicked off. Bites were harder, jumps were more pronounced and effective. (While bending over in nothing but underwear one of them jumped straight on to my ass in the most brutal of ways…. yeah, I jumped and yelped.)
Each time I would walk into my room the energy was different, usually everyone is cuddled in a mass but today, everyone was close together with PB sitting alone at the end of my dogs bedding. It felt like contemplation and the energy of his siblings was resentful. They knew they were losing their leader. Perhaps I am anthropomorphizing them, or perhaps spending almost thirteen weeks straight with these little critters from day one, means I am experiencing a very real dynamic that I have limited understanding and wording for, but this is what I can liken it to.
11:30 am rolled around and it would be soon that separation would occur. I wanted us all to share one last cat nap together. I forgot my phone, so I asked the cats to make sure I got up by 12:30. At first it was a struggle, everyone was blaming me with what energy they had left and PB was the last to settle down but when he did, he cuddled under my chin on my neck and fell fast asleep while the rest of his crew laid in a puddle on my abdomen. Momma laid down on the dresser, overlooking our pile of fur and humanity and we rested for an hour and I had to get up.
It was like curtain call in the theatre. “Okay cats (cast), life will change very soon. Make your peace and say your good-byes. We love you PeanutBuddy!”
A short while later I asked my grandma if she would like to say goodbye, and she said yes. I brought him into the room and she became emotional.
“It feels like I am losing a friend.” She said. I couldn’t help but agree, once upon a few months ago they were helpless little fur balls with an uncertain future… now they could probably instinctively kill a rodent and be surprised by the outcome… how far we can move so quickly.
Everyone said goodbye, even the dogs. And I slipped that little tan critter in to a critter carrier; it was hard. I am not a cat person, I am an animal person. Sometimes I hate love, ya know… you always have to say goodbye and it’s rarely a relief. My emotions are wrapped up in the fact that I saw life happen in front of my eyes. I saw growth and development based on my influence. I hope they all are just the best for their new homes but that doesn’t stop the emotion I am feeling. I am not quite sure what to liken it to as a person who has never had children. I guess I get the same feeling when I think about my dog, or any dog I have ever loved or has been loved by people I love, and that dog passing away. I’m deeply saddened by the idea of the feeling of abandonment.
I want that kittery to know I didn’t “abandon him,” even though it feels like I did. Will he care once he is integrated and spoiled in his new home… probably not, but I don’t know for sure and that is why they call it anthropomorphism. We put human attributes on animals, I don’t know if they felinopomorph, and think any one human is more or less cat-tributed behavior or personality. I know my relationship with Quantum is significantly different now than it was when she came to me in November, and we have yet to see how that will pan out once she regains her space and freedom. (This bitch needs a snip-snip if you know what I mean, before she can explore the outdoors again.)
I just take it day to day, ya know? Really it’s all I can do.
Hoʻoponopono (ho-o-pono-pono) is an ancient Hawaiian practice of reconciliation and forgiveness. Similar forgiveness practices were performed on islands throughout the South Pacific, including Samoa, Tahiti and New Zealand. Traditionally hoʻoponopono is practiced by healing priests or kahuna lapaʻau among family members of a person who is physically ill. Modern versions are performed within the family by a family elder, or by the individual alone.
I am sorry,
I forgive you,
I love you,
I thank you.
These are the four small but massive tenements of change.
I realize, “I love you”, just isn’t something I think or feel, until I do. It is such a rare thing. But when I finally feel it; it feels intentional, yet somehow, also distant.
I will say “I love you” to those I adore, but our geographical distance keeps us removed. I pass the sentiment through telephone lines and satellite feeds.
Meanwhile, my grandma, a few rooms away; and who I truly and deeply love, sits alone. Why is it, I say “I love you”, to her, begrudgingly; almost with bitterness?
What have they done to deserve this? If it is only my discontent, and we are all the same person, only separated by meat sleeves like sausages; am I spoiling those around me?
I am reminded by old adages; “Treat yourself as you would have others treat you.”
The Chorus Of My Answers-
I am mean to myself.
Some lost Golden Truth, imposed and impressed-
” Treat others as you would have them treat you.”
The reality of my actions-
“Treat me like disturbing trash in the wind. Be swift with your disgust and disregard immediately.”
So, I lay in bed.
I recite, “I am sorry.”
My next thought is “What am I sorry for?” Deep down I know the list is endless.
“I forgive you…”
But why? I can’t even forgive myself.
“I love you.”
For what? I hate love. I hate the word “love.”
What did I do? No need to thank me. How can we live in thankfulness with feelings like this?
I start adding things. Improvising.
” I am sorry I have been so harsh with you. I mean it.”
“I forgive you for allowing Truth.”
“I love you for your resilience.”
“I thank you for sticking around.”
“We might be crazy.”
“I am sorry I’ve tried to kill you.”
“I forgive you for pushing me.”
“I love you for your perseverance .”
“I thank you for accepting my apologies.
Things start flowing from my heart and my eyes. I am knee deep in a love/hate moment.
“I am sorry I haven’t believed in you! ( I really, really am!)”
“I forgive you for not believing in me. ( I don’t blame you, I haven’t believed in me, either.)
“I love you because you are lovable. (Even when you don’t feel love or lovable.)”
“I thank you for being, me. (We are One, and that is why it hurts.)”
By this time I feel the familiar choke in my throat; a solitary tear creeps between the slits in my closed eyes. Again I feel that Love/Hate resurface… what have I gotten myself into?
“I am sorry I dehydrate you, every day.” (What a dick I am. I know better.)
“I forgive you for enabling me.” (Why am I my biggest enabler?)
“I love you for the limits you set.” ( How can you even say that? My limits seem nonexistent to myself, these days.)
“I thank you for understanding.” ( I think you might be mistaken… for now I am more confused.)
I go further. I focus on my grandmother.
“I am sorry you are getting old.” ( I wish I had more patience and kindness.)
“I forgive you for your failing body.” ( If only we could turn back time.)
“I love you so, so much!” ( Why am I crap, at showing it?)
“I thank you for your continued support.” ( I suppose that is the least I could do, right?)
“I am sorry I am a bitch to you.”
“I forgive you for not stopping me.”
“I love you because you exist as 100% love, in my mind and heart.”
“I thank you, for being just the way you are.”
The grey matter in my brain feels extra mushy.
“I am sorry I can’t figure out how to make life easier for the both of us.”
“I forgive you and your past.”
“I love you because, I do and always have.”
“I thank you, for your silent strength.”
Most days, it’s just me, and her. And the only people I have to feed, is us. Admittedly, most days I wait until I am absolutely hangry before I choose to eat. By that point, she has already been snacking, and squashes our plans to have a shared dinner.
I have made plans for food for “us”, not “me.” Tonight I do not want to eat alone, but her disinterest is telling.
At this point, I am so hangry, that I put on some boxing gloves and punched a tree for three solid minutes. I do fifty jumping jacks. I wonder if I am killing the tree, by not hugging it enough.
I avoid eating “our” food, and have another drink.
My Lover calls me back. He tells me “Everything is great! I just had dinner with an old friend of mine that I haven’t seen in a long time.”
I tell him, “That’s all I was calling about earlier…. I gotta go.”
The call disconnects, and I am pretty sure this time it wasn’t my fault, but who knows. The hung dial tone is loud and it’s amplifying my rage. In all this dissonance I decide to take a drive behind King Soopers.
I am looking for a “For Sale” motor home I heard about over a week ago. There are several motor homes and fifth wheels in the trailer park area. Nothing is labeled “For Sale.” I am miffed; this adds to my daily defeat. I just want reinvention and newness; with out babies.
I think I am wasting all my good karma on free drinks.
A week ago I wondered what if I treated alcohol and tobacco, the way I treat psychedelics; I never buy them, they are only received once in a blue moon by gifting, and they must be blessed before consuming.
Today that idea seems a void. The small destructive pleasure of escapism are at times, the little lights of living. The little social resurrections, despite how volatile. Obviously, I don’t ask for much. Maybe, I don’t ask for enough. I can’t bare to ask for more, but why?
This Universe is supposedly infinite; most of us really don’t need much. Many ask for more than they need, and receive more than they asked for.
I don’t mean to sound humble… my ego isn’t very humble; however my needs are few, and therefore I would say my needs, are humble.
“You get what you ask for.”
“You get just what you need.”
“You get what is coming to you.”
“You don’t know how to appreciate it now.”
Maybe not, but I think I do. Every moment is “Now.” Science says time does not exist. Spirituality says we are all infinite. Astrology says I will find abundance in my 50’s. Fuck, that is another 20 years.
“To some, 20 years IS a lifetime.”
I tell my inner guru to shut the fuck up. It is annoying the present place, now, me. Fuck.
I make my way four miles home from the pub. I grab a sammie on the way. I Hoʻoponopono along the way, trying to reconcile some people in my life that I feel have the same emotional lack that I feel in the present moment. I believe the motion of walking will solidify my meditation.
“I am sorry I’ve allowed you to lie.”
“I forgive you of your past lies.”
“I love you for your brazen attitude.”
“I thank you for teaching me.”
Despite my outward expressions, I am just talking to myself, out loud.
“I am sorry you haven’t been honest.”
“I forgive you for your misuse of imagination.”
“I love you for your creative spirit.”
“I thank you for your unabashed-ness.”
Home is quiet. The loves in my life are both asleep. I am happy to sleep alone while battling the reality of falling asleep alone.
Those two don’t realize how different but the same they are. My loves.
One sleeps in the basement and the other sleeps above, only separated by twenty feet, and fifty years. I lay in the middle of decades; always more distantly close to one, more than the other.
Distance. Miles. Emotions. Years.
I decided after a long while, to google what I can only say, was once “The Love Of My Life.”
His refusal to engage with social media led me to finding his baby momma, now wifey.
“What am I doing with this lurking?”
I find her comfortably taking up space on Facebook. Right there, now, in my face sits this happy little family.
There he is, still handsome. His daughter looks a lot like him. I cringe. I cry a little.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that this should have been us… our life would have been different, most likely childless.
I have only had a handful of relationships, and this is just another one that tells me, (from the outside looking in,) that I am all wrong.
I have tested every man I have ever loved; ultimately pushing them far, far away. Not long after we are over, they move on and start families with women far more congenial; far more loving, far more responsible. I can’t help but wonder how damaged I must be, or how clueless my self dependence is.
I am, in fact, so sick of being and feeling alone. Out of love. I am sick of feeling like I have to keep my emotions at an arms length away from potential love. I am sick of not finding attraction that stirs my understanding and compassion. I just want to feel the stirrings of mutual love. Loving mutually. I want to wipe those past relationships from my broken heart.
Those who did choose to love me, loved very hard. In turn, I had a very hard time accepting it, until it was gone and over.
Hindsight is 20/20, right? It is. I know.
I am sorry we didn’t know how to love each other. I forgive the pain we cause each other. I love you, always. Thank you, for taking time to love me.
I am sorry for breaking your heart. I forgive you, for breaking mine. I love you, and I can’t stop. Thank you for teaching me.
I am sorry things didn’t work out. I forgive you for hitting me. I love you for the sweetness’ we did share. Thank you for setting me free.
There is just so much to say, and not enough words. Again, I am left with question and yearning. I would have given him everything, if he would have just, let me in.
I love a lot of people, but being ‘in love’ is rare. Mostly for me, it seems attraction is not a defining component of love, how ever it is a huge factor of ‘being in love.” I don’t just mean physical attraction; I mean multi-level attraction. Body, mind and soul searching type shit.
A burning of compassionate passion, that brings two bodies into a union. I have found the sparks of those fires quickly die off. Admittedly I hold grudges that affect my mind, actions and libido. My libido is already, very weak.
I don’t want to be touched (physically) by ‘just anyone.’ I need everything to feel ‘right.’ This rarely happens. Instead, I find myself upon some high dusty shelf in some sort of “self preservation.” I wonder, if I am wasting time?
I knew my adult story started with him. My superficial bones tested the strength of will, I thought I had.
We tell ourselves things in judgement of others. An internal pact, ” I will never be that woman.” Then some how the ironic face of circumstance sets forth a learning curve you once thought yourself to be invincible against.
I walk through life, listening to my own voice-over; laughing and wondering how a story could begin like this; but it did.
Imagine a girl entering into a new period of her freedom. Twenty-three and vigorously trying to be more athletic and perhaps more hip than she has been before.
It’s a ski town and she is trying the “snow bum” lifestyle for a while. This place is edgy in its very removed and integrated way of twenty-somethings and older folks alike. They were all there for the snow; small town drama and copious amounts of intoxicants at any moment came as a sidecar.
Their attitude was “the moment is meant to be lived”; this philosophy in this neck of the woods led to other sentiments, such as “It’s better to live below poverty ABOVE 9000 ft.”
I love the mountains and nature. Every once and a while I like to party. Mostly thought I love nature and beer, with a sidecar of interesting stories. So, I found a job at a local pub with the help of a couple of local friendly friends. Forward I worked into the integration process.
This was May 2003. By October I had a few friends I could stand on a regular basis; plenty of places to hang out if things got dull, and a condo with a filthy roommate who was rarely there.
I was getting more fit, and spending much of my free time painting and forcing myself to workout. Twenty pounds of extra winter clothing and a two to four mile walk, would make me happy, as I was literally “walking my ass off.”
I wasn’t smoking cigarettes. I had a healthy pot habit and mostly drank Guinness or Carlsburg Dunkle. I walked to and fro, from my three jobs. Mostly I avoided drama.
I remember it was a warm day in August, or September; the first day he saw me. I recall him telling me his friend owned the condo behind mine. He was helping with “home improvements.”
He’d seen me running. That same day I had finished one of my favorite paintings out under sun.
In this small town, his friend living directly behind me, his avoidance of drama; we were bound to eventually meet. Our paths had to cross. It would take a couple of months.
I had some flings before then. Maybe more than I would like to mention, given the circumstances of small towns, and my distaste for sloppy seconds; none of it was of real potential, just young snow boarder guys. Most older than me, but not at all very serious.
I am feeling my superficial bones ache. It takes more than beauty and brawn to win me over. Still, admittedly, I like good looks and a great mind. Great minds are sometimes a bit vulnerable to superficial beauty. The brain could go on thinking in such contradictory and malicious circles, until one finds themselves void of the ability to communicate clearly; perhaps going so far as to not be able to communicate at all.
I’d like to say that when we met, I was starting to feel as though I was grasping clarity; though now I know, I hadn’t even really started the search.
He touched me and this muddled mind and vulnerable heart, immediately forgot about listening to common held fear, and jumped happily forward into a hard lesson.
Something I have always known and been impressed with, is the most effective way to fully know a lesson, is to fully immerse in order to truly learn.
When suffering from depression, or mental illness; it can be very hard to live in domestic partnerships. This is especially true, when the partner of the sufferer, has no interest in gaining coping skills to off set some of the dramatic emotional upheavals that are bound to occur.
We don’t plan our depressions; it can take years and years of self awareness to pin point all the potential triggers, as often times they tend to be more subconscious programs. Dates, places, and phrases can, and often times, will set off a new bout of despair.
When the despair hits, it leads to an overwhelming feeling of being misunderstood, and alienated. These feelings amplify self criticism; making the already annoying self critical response clock in off the charts. A pervasive weight of ” I can do nothing right.” and “It’s all my fault.”
The thoughts and feelings that you may have had on “good days” now are second guessed and reduced to illusion. That voice of illusion, says “No one really loves you. No one ever will.”
It’s hard not to feel crazy when logic and emotion collide in the confusion of depression.
This is a piece I wrote while in a domestic partnership, that led me to spending a night in jail for domestic violence. I started attending drug, alcohol, and domestic abuse classes for court.
Many times through the 7 months that I attended, I asked my partner to come with me; as I felt they were sharing a lot of useful information. I also thought it would put us on the same page, so that we could move forward, together.
However, he was not interested in those classes; which said to me, he didn’t really care about Us. It broke my heart, and inevitably we split up. For years, I wondered, “what if? What if he was invested in my desire to get better? ”
I have since had to move on from that, and accept where I am, and who I am today. I know that not just any one can handle the unforeseen upsets of the future. It will require strength, patience, and cooperation.
When Words Signal the End.
This frustration builds. This love, a lie. And I am burning for more than this disappointment.
I am yearning for more than this fear of abandonment.
Alone with these thoughts and feeling, despite the activity around me; this soul is closed. All the doors are closed.
We can’t communicate. You say my reality isn’t valid.
It really isn’t yours to judge, but you do; constantly.
You blame me for being some fucked up artist.
It isn’t that, at all.
Can’t you see, sometimes we are both wrong.
No. You control. You blame. Nothing changes.
You bribe the master, waiving possibilities in my face. Nothing is ever manifest; it finds itself as watered down truths, dripping lies from your lips.
I am down, because you keep me there.
I am mad, because you show you care, in the most fucked up ways.
Days later, you apologize; so we keep riding the storm.
Love borne Hate. Emancipation is evident. All of this too late.
I am debating my hate; trying to hold my love, but I am drowning.
It’s astounding to watch from the wings, as I take swings at your face.
Wasting time, like it’s easy to buy; when really it’s hard to replace.
I want for you to show me something real; but the wheel of life turns and this heart burns with heartache.
Love is a dish best served cold, old and mouldy upon a paper plate. Swarming with fly larvae,
It isn’t tangible; it causes vertigo as my brain starts to go south.
My mouth a cesspool of verbs and curving words; they slice like a knife, through this paper flesh.
Should I regret this venture?
It’s too late, this path paved with good intentions, gone awry.
The repetitive question; Why, why, why me?
Why this mess? Why?
I confess; I am the mess. I am the beast with talon feet. I am the rage and the endless sadness. The builder of madness and tears that never seem to dry.
I try, but you call me the catalyst… The baddest bitch, you know.
Blow by blow your words knock me down, and add to the scowling.
Sweet inner child caught in the frowning, forgetting recollections; the brief reflections of innocence.
I am just an artist, with nothing to show; but a hole in my head where I’ve let these words go.
Are you familiar with the action of a wrecking ball?
That is Sara Goossen in a nutshell. The lady is powerful, energetic, and ready to knock excuses out of the way. She is a bright and compassionate person who sees the potential in people and then helps individuals harness their inner bad ass. This talent is an imperative staple in her personal business model.
October 1, 2012, Sara opened Fit Body Boot Camp- Cheyenne, with 14 clients. Her goal is to change the lives of 5000 of Cheyenne’s citizens by 2017. As of April 2015, she has trained and cultivated a community of 1200 residents who are interested in adopting a healthy life style. That is an average of 400 people a year, getting active and aware in the fair city of Cheyenne and it’s surrounding areas. No small feat for this 5’3″ wrecking ball.
Sara and I got together to discuss her fitness past and her optimistic fitness future; how she came to start FBBC and some of her own trials and tribulations in the fitness process.
Before I jump into the interview, I would like to state that when you are looking for a gym, and a support system to help you change your habits; having a leader like Sara is imperative because she has run the gamut of unhealthy eating and body weight issues. She has children, she knows struggles and excuses. She has taken initiative on her own, in her own life in order to transcend her past hang ups. In turn Sara has turned hardships into valuable insight for those at any point in their fitness journey.
It may be easier for certain people to take her ethic very seriously because she didn’t start out on this lifestyle right after high school or college before having children; when most women’s bodies are still in that youthful metabolism. She wasn’t always healthy. It was a choice that she had to dedicate herself to; which meant a long road of challenges that led to the changes that are evident in her today.
Let’s find out more, shall we?
WEIGHT: 145.3 lbs
FAVORITE EXERCISE: RUNNING STAIRS, WORKING THE BACK, AND SQUATS
LEAST FAVORITE EXERCISE: BUILDING CLIMBERS
Let’s talk about your fitness past, eating disorders, all that stuff.
It goes so far back, it’s disturbing… so, okay, 10 years old; my mom told me I needed to stop eating granola bars because they were making me fat and at that point in time I had just finished some book, I can’t remember the title of, and it was talking abou this girl who would throw up, because she was so fat. So…I…followed suit.
Thank God for Children’s Literature, right?
Yeah, I was like, “Well, now I am well informed and I can solve this problem.
(Sara reminences with awkward laughter.)
So, at ten years old that started fourteen years of just roller coaster disordered eating; ranging the spectrum of binging and purging to just starving myself. When I got pregnant with my son, when I was sixteen, I kind of just said “Fuck it. It doesn’t matter if I am skinny; it doesn’t matter if I am fat…I am pregnant. I can eat whatever I want and have no guilt.” I gained 50 pounds when I was pregnant with him, and I lost ten. I lost some weight nursing, but after I stopped nursing him, I continued the disordered eating cycle.
Just picked it up where you left off?
Yep, just picked it up right where I left off. And I knew… I was an athlete in high school, I knew about nutrition but it’s not something that I ever listened to because disordered eating was so much easier than learning how to feed myself. At nineteen I married my now ex-husband, (my daughters’ father) and gained all that “happy weight” I maxed out the scale before we got married, at 197 lbs…. so, I looked like a cow in my wedding dress.
Thank god for girdles….
After that we were trying to get pregnant with Emma, and couldn’t get pregnant… couldn’t get pregnant. We tried for two years, and I finally went to the doctor and asked “what is going on?” I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) and the doctor told me that I had to make a lifestyle change, or else…. “you’re going to end up with diabetes; you are more apt to have certain types of cancer, you are just going to get fatter, your thyriod is going to peter out…” All the things that go along with PCOS… “This is your future. You either make a change now or enjoy your future where it is headed.”
At that point I sought help because I knew my disorder was no longer a sustainable way to live life. It wasn’t mentally or emotionally healthy.
So I lost about 20 lbs. and we got pregnant with Emma through a series of fertility treatments. When I was pregnant with Emma I only gained about 20 lbs and then I lost it all right away. At that point they (the doctors) said “Well you are probably not going to be able to have any more children, so don’t worry about it.” And I thought, okay, cool; I am just going to go back to doing the whole weight loss thing, because I still had fifty pounds to go.
So I lost another twenty pounds, and then I got pregnant with my daughter Ileena… BOOM! I remember going to my dads house and saying, “Well… I am pregnant again just when I was gettting my ‘sexy’ back.” My grandma looks at me and says “Well honey, maybe that’s the problem.”
Double edged sword on that one…
Yeah! So I got pregnant and did that whole thing and I only gained fifteen pounds with Ailena , and I lost that all right away. November 2009 I found Body For Life, Bill Phillips, transformation.com ; whom I heard about from my step-mom. So I thought, I am going to try this thing. (Everybody thought I was crazy for starting during the holidays.) It was pretty easy; three days of lifting, three days of cardio, all high intensity intervals. By doing that the next three months I was able to loose the rest of the weight. About half way through that three month process I was like “Ya, know, I want to help other people because I can do this as some one who has struggled their whole life with eating well and taking care of themselves … I can help some one else do this.”
I got my personal training certification.
How long did that take you?
It was about four months and about that time I was working for my dad as his administrative assistant amoung other things. I decided that I would try this training thing before and after work, and see what happens. I did that and it just blew up, so in June 2010, I quit my job working for my dad and I started training full time.
I was doing a lot of one on one training and two boot camp sessions at a local gym. I was making money, doing something I love. I worked there for two years and I left because there were some issues that made it neccessary for me to get out of that environment. I decided, I am just going to start my own place; I left and they came after me with for violating my no-compete/ no-solicitation agreement.
Looking back, I was so mad at the time. I was furious, like how could they do this? How can this stand up? Well, it stood up because I had solicited the people who had signed up with me, but were also their clients. I had to take a year off of training and I went back to working for my dad for a year and within that year I knew I needed to do something. I was miserable.
When you are following a life of passion and suddenly it is taken away; it’s like the wind has been knocked out of your sails. You don’t even feel like a human being. I started looking down in Colorado for places I could move to and open up. I was doing all this during the same time I was being sued and working for my dad; I also had gotten a divorce from my kids father. It was everything that could go wrong, did.
I was at an impass; like shit, what do I do?
I looked down in Boulder and I spent about six months driving back and forth, just looking for a location I could open up. I encountered road block after road block.
By this point I had already talked to the CEO of Fit Body, who has been a long time friend. I told them, I want to do this but I have to wait until this year is up or I am screwed.
Was that part of your Non-compete agreement? Did you have a time limit to wait?
Yes, that was the year. One year to the day, October 1, 2012; we opened up with fourteen clients. I was just so excited to be open and be able to do what I love to do. That’s it… the rest is history. Here we are today; looking for another space, a bigger place… sitting down with the bank and talking about bigger loans.
That’s pretty quick, only three years.
Yeah, less than three years actually.
How do you know the CEO of Fit Body?
The fitness industry is so small, it really is. So if you don’t know every one you soon will if you stay in it long enough. I met him doing a master mind. I was in there with the two founders of Fit Body Boot Camp, Steve Hochman and Bedros Keuilian. I was in Steve’s Master Mind and through that I met Bedros. We had several conversations and talked on the phone several times, emailed back and forth; He called me up one day and said ” What’s it going to take to get you to open a Fit Body? And I told him, “You know what it will take, you know what I am up against right now. It’s going to have to take one hell of a deal and some patience and that is where it’s at.” So he said “Alright, let’s make it happen.”
At this point it was going from licensing to a franchise, so they were looking for people and I just happened to be one of those people.
Do you get together with other gym owners?
I do know a lot of the Fit Body owners simply because we get together quarterly; every three months, usually in San Diego or Chino Hills, California. There is a great community with in Fit Body, even from a corporate structure coming all the way down to the clients. It’s nice that we can just continue to pay it forward. It’s pretty cool, and a very unique situation.
Would you like to talk about your competition stuff?
OH YEAH! Sure! I don’t want to bore you to tears with business.
I first competed in August of 2011, I also ran the Denver half marathon in October 2010, and after that I gave myself permission to never run again. (laughter.) I find it really useless and painful. It turns out I am better suited for lifting heavy things than go fast.
Did you do this on your year of sabbatical?
No, it was right before everything blew up in my face. Then I competed in my second figure show August 2013.
Did you win anything?
I did. I placed 5th in the second show, I was pretty excited about that. Granted there were only six figure competitors, so I was 5th, but I was happy to have something to take home, regardless.
My first show I did there were 36 figure competitors, and I think I finished 34th. So I was like, “I think I have improved!”
Were these in Wyoming?
The one in 2011 was in Loveland, Colorado. The Warrior Classic, and the other one was in Wyoming, and that was the Jay Cutler Classic. And that Dude, is a Big Dude. I have a picture of him somewhere.
He was there?
Yeah, he is huge! He is a moose of a man! My head is as big as his shoulder!
He could pick you up in the palm of his hand!
Honestly I am getting the bug again, to compete. I am trying to weigh out the time commitment that it takes, along with my other obligations to see what it will take… if it’s something I can feasibly do right now while keeping everything else balanced. I do love competing .
If you wait to have your own place, you could put on your own competition, in house competition. Then you won’t have to go too far.
That is one of the most fun things about competition; you get to meet so many interesting people from all over the country. People who are busting their asses just to get super lean for just a minute. It literally lasts a day. You deplete enough to have a six pack for a day, and then you gain 20 pounds the next day because you drink water. It’s crazy.
It would be interesting to time lapse a person going through the build up to competition, and then the 24 hours afterward. Once you get the tanner off, and start drinking water again, it’s like what the hell? You blossom like a flower.
You still eat, you carb load the day of to fill out your muscles because you have depleted to the point that you have taken all the glycogen and striped your body of literally everything. It’s not something you want to do often because it is kind of dangerous, BUT, it’s still fun to push your mental ability and physical barriers. That is big for me, because I love the challenge.
Are you a challenge junkie?
I totally am! I love the personal challenge. Competing against other people is fun, but figure prep is anywhere from 2-5 months.
It’s kind of interesting that you have struggled with disordered eating which is in and of itself sort of an addiction, and pushing your body to a limit and challenging it, but not in a very healthy way. And here you have turned your addiction around to a healthier way of expressing it. Yet, there are still these extremes that you go to.
It totally is. What I think helps me with competing and the lifestyle of body building is the structure that it provides. It’s like a security blanket. You take some one with an eating disorder who has struggled with that their entire life, and you say, “you don’t have to struggle, here is some structure. Have a nice day.” It’s like, “okay, this is safe.”
Then the biggest struggle, is will power to be able to keep on the regamine.
Yeah, it’s like any other fitness goals… as long as you have that dead line… the finish line at the end; it makes it that much easier. It’s not like you have to do this for a lifetime or else… It’s here is your dead line, and then you reset the goal. And that is something that is really, really exciting for me.
Through competing I learned to accept my body, where ever it is; whether I am 120 pounds or 145. I am still strong, I am still beautiful and I am still worthy of love and acceptance and success. That is one of those things that I have accidentally learned through the process. It is a by product.
I know a lot of people who compete who struggle with that mindset. Like if they don’t have a six pack they are done for. They are like “Oh My God, My Life Is OVER!”
It basically boils down to bulemia or dysmorphia. It’s all activated on the same brain wave length, same neurological pathway. It’s been nice to find freedom from that as I have gotten older. To not be stressed out about the numbers, to see yourself and be like “You look good!”
IT’s a good example to your kids, too.
I hope so. Sometimes I wonder, “am I ruining these little people?”
Instead of “You’re the reason mommy has a drinking problem,” it’s more like “You are the reason mommy has an exercise problem.”
That’s funny beacause when I took two months off earlier this year, my kids were like “what is wrong with her?” I did not feel like myself. I felt like I was insane most days; like absolutely bat shit crazy.
You needed to be exerting yourself.
Yeah, I needed that rush of endorphins and I think it was something that I had always taken for granted because I have been doing it for so long, it’s just been part of my life for so long. When I completely took it out, I had no idea the impact it would have on me. Not just physically but spiritually, emotionally and mentally. I got to tell you, the week we started working out again, my husband and I; He was like “Gosh you are so much easier to be around.” And I knew he meant that in the sweetest way possible, instead of being a jerk, and I was like “I know, trust me, it’s easier to be in my head.” I went to the doctor and I asked am I schitzophrenic, what is going on here? And she said “I think you are depressed.” And I just needed exercise.
So tell me about your favorite success story to come out of here.
My favorite one, honestly, is from when I very, very first started. He followed me when I opened Fit Body. His name is Austin, he was 16 when he came to me he was 386 lbs. and he was tall and huge. He knew he had a problem. He was home schooled so he didn’t have a lot of interaction with other kids. The reason he was home schooled was because when he was in school, the other kids were just horrible to him because he was so big and kind of awkward and quiet.
He would come, every single day to Boot Camp. At that point in time, they were 1 1/2 hour sessions, he would show up at 6:00 AM, every day. And even if he couldn’t do it, he would struggle through it.
He asked me, “what do I eat? how do I do it?”
His mom was onboard, but I didn’t see her much. Sometimes she would come and walk while he did Boot Camp. Every now and then she would come talk to me, well when I took the year off, Austin started power lifting and he took his focus off the weight loss. Then he came over to Fit Body when I opened, and he brought his mother with him, and they did it together.
It was just so, so, so cool. He ended up losing 110 lbs by the time he was 19. Then they moved to Oregon. He was such a great, great kid. It was just so cool to see how he was able to influence his mom because it’s usually the parents who influence the kids. He was able to influence his mom after two years of going at it by himself.
Was she also over-weight?
Yes, she was, but such a nice, nice gal. I look back on those two, especially Austin and I think “That kid could have made every excuse in the world because teenagers do, adults do. Teenagers learn from what the adults model.” He just was like “I am tired of this. I am tired of being the ‘fat kid’. I don’t mind being a ‘big kid’, I am 6’3″. But I am tired of being the ‘fat kid'”
The last Halloween he was here, he dressed up as The Hulk; and that involved taking off his shirt, and painting himself green, and walking around with out a shirt on. Two years prior to that you would have never seen him do that. It was so cool to see him blossom from this awkward quiet, video gamer (indoor) kid to this little ball of life and energy, and sass.
It was fun to not only see his journey of weight loss but also to see how he grew as a person. To see him evolve into an adult from a kid that just didn’t want to be fat and made fun of.
Do you stay in contact with him?
I do. I stay more into contact with his mom because he is a young adult now and all over the place.
It would be interesting to see if he takes a career in Fitness from this influence. It seems like people who a great at teaching come from a past of being ostersized.
So, we have touched on this, but obviously Fitness has a positive effect on your homelife.
Oh God, yeah! The kids are like “Mom, go work out, you are driving us crazy.” It is also nice though, because my husband and I can share it together. Every morning Monday through Saturday we go work out together, and then go to work and do our thing. It’s been a good bonding experience for us too. Although it did take us three years for him to come and work out with me. The first time we exercised together, he was having a bad day and we were just friends at the time. I was like “he’s having a bad day, just go lift, and he will be fine.” Well a half hour in, he is dry heaving on himself, and I was like ” I thought you were in shape?” Well, after that he didn’t come back to work out with me for three years. And he comes to boot camp, and he makes it through the whole thing, and after that he said “I am going to have to wait until you are ‘deconditioned’ a little before we can work out together.”
He took the oppertunity while I took two months off to “even the playing field.”
Since then it has been nice, in the last couple of months to have that morning time with my husband because we have five kids… we need that time together. It’s nice to have that time and cheer each other on.
What are some of your future goals?
Really my mission is just to help people and it always has been. I am in the business of changing lives and if I am not changing lives, then I am doing something wrong.
YOU RUINED MY LIFE THROUGH EXERCISE!
Ha, ha! Oh man, if some one said that to me, I would have to reevalute everything. I really do just want to leave an impact on this world. And, Cheyenne… God Bless it, and all of it’s citizens; (but Cheyenne) is a FAT city. Overweight, unhealthy; spiritually, mentally and physically. People are over worked and under paid, or over worked and over paid. They have little or no time for their families , no time for themselves; no time to do anything. So we have people spinning their wheels, but for what? At the end of the day if you don’t have your health, you have nothing left. I don’t want to out live my children. I see obese kids around and I want to slap their parents. I don’t want to beat the kids, but I want to slap the parents. It makes me so mad. But then I look at it, and you have to change the lives of the parents before you can change the lives of the children. At the end of the day, it is our job as adults to make those responsible decisions. It isn’t easy, but it is our responsiblity.
It’s in my heart to change the health of this community, if not the entire community of Wyoming, but that’s a long way off down the road. I want to continue to make a difference in peoples health and in their lives.
Thirty minutes of exercise might not seem like much, but it can change how a wife treats her husband. She is in a better mood, she feels better about herself, she feels more attractive… she actually wants to be with her husband instead of saying ” I don’t see what you see, at all.”
It changes how a mother treats her children because she has more energy, she will want to take them to the park, or go hiking and do stuff. Or maybe she is just in a better mood and doesn’t want to paddle their butts just for being little people.
It is just fitness, it is just a work out… but it can change EVERYTHING. I have seen it with myself. I saw it when I started my journey years ago and I still see it today. If I don’t work out, I need to work out because I start feeling ‘cagey’ inside. Anxious.
What has your biggest triumph been in your personal fitness journey?
I think just staying the course. Every day is a new day. I can’t say one event has been a real defining moment in my health and fitness journey. I think it just staying course with the lifestyle. I mean sometimes I fall off, just like anyone. I go on a little cookie diet, when I feel stressed, and then I gain eight pounds and then I have to lose it again. At the end of the day just knowing that I am doing what I need to be doing is just great. But when I am not doing that I can tell a difference. So for me, it’s just committing to the lifestyle.
Is there anything you would want to change?
No. Not really because I believe even the hard stuff is lessons. And I think I am far more grateful now toward some of the hardships that I went through. When you look back at it, it just gives you an oppertunity to learn about yourself; to learn about others and the way the world works. Hardships are often self inflicted. So if anything it’s just learning about who I am and who I want to be and who I do not want to be. It’s just about growing up.
Would you like to give any tips or inspiration?
It’s just about consistency. You have to pick and plan and be consistent. It doesn’t matter what your plan is, as long as it has some good foundation of physical health, mental health and spiritual health. Even if it’s CrossFit or lifting or body building or boot camp; whatever it is, I think it’s just about picking something that works for you and stick with it. I know Boot Camp isn’t for everyone. I wish it was. At the end of the day finding something that works and sticking with it long enough to get results. So many people just go about their life by starting a new program every two weeks, saying “But I am just not getting results.” and I am like “Dude, it’s only been two weeks. Do you know how long it took me to lose 70 pounds?”
How long did it take you?
Beginning to end it took three years. Granted I got pregnant twice in between, but it took me three years to lose that 70 pounds. It’s not going to happen over night.
After spending all this time taking other peoples measurements; when do people, on average see a difference for themselves and accept that change is occurring?
Typically eight weeks, especially for women. I call it an 8 Week Miracle. Literally nothing on the scale can change and inches may not change, but may be your clothes fit differently. For whatever reason the inches may not change, your body fat may not change, and then one day you wake up and somewhere between the bedroom and the bathroom, you realize you lost your ass. It’s like it’s just fallen off somwhere and you hop on the scale and you are down ten pounds from the night before. And you will be like “what the hell? My scale must be broken.”
So you call in a spouse or a loved one and you have them hop on the scale and it says what it always says to them, and you hop back on there and it says the same thing, “you are down 10 lbs.”
You have to trust the process, long enough. Not just “half commit.”
“Oh I am just gonna work out for eight weeks and hope that everything is going to happen. You have to have a plan. Have a plan of attack and exicute it flawlessly. Even if you have one bad day, okay, perfect; get back on the band wagon, but don’t let that one bad day or one bad meal derail you for the next six months.
So I think that is the key. Consistency. You have to be consistent, no matter what. And that goes with anything; if it’s fitness related, or business related, or if you want better relationships. What ever it is, BE CONSISTENT! STICK WITH YOUR PLAN! Things WILL change.
In summery; Knowledge, is the awareness that all action has a reaction, and Wisdom, is using that awareness to your advantage whilst utilizing all available resources.
Fit Body Boot Camp works because of the significant insight that the program lends through collaborative Wisdom and Experience.
Fit Body Boot Camp is calling out more of Cheyenne to get involved in their fitness; and during the month of May we are taking extra efforts to expose residents to the opportunity. If you have been following this blog and you are tempted to try it; COME ON DOWN! Let them know you read this blog and that it has helped you to take the first step in health and wellness; or if you are new to town and looking for a fitness community and this seems up your alley, come take a test drive.
If this article interests you and you would like to read more, check out these related blogs. And as always I appreciate “likes”, comments, suggestions and subscribers; so please feel free to interact. And remember kids, Fitness is great, but Burpees SUCK!
Who do you look up to? Why? What endearing or respectful qualities does this person carry, worthy of being a hero? Do you, yourself also harness these qualities, or do you envy them and worship them in others, whilst not embracing them into yourself?
Let me tell you about my Hero.
Now I am not a religious person. I do not buy into secular doctrine presented through Churches or religious organization. I have spent some hours in the bible, and at Bible College. I have continued my research into spirituality and faith through my own accord and intuition.
My hero is whatever the embodiment of Christ Consciousness is. And let me tell you, he ain’t no hippie dippy Jesus.
Take a moment to check out this video, to see Christ Consciousness in action.
Notice these guys and their sense of humor regarding all the useless trends out there. AND then notice the authentic looks of surprise and humility of the participants in Making Homeless People Smile, WORLDWIDE.
This video makes me cry every time, because it is genuine. And it mentally takes me back to a time in my life when I was 19.
Now I only attended MCC for a semester. I left with a 0.0 GPA, because I stopped going to classes in order to fulfill what I felt to be actual work from the level of Christ Consciousness.
It started out as a birthday trip to Kansas City, Missouri. I had a bunch of birthday money, and my new best friend, Natasha, in tow. We hoped to get into an 18 and over club. We hoped to push the boundary on this new level of perceived freedom, being away from home for the first time. Pushing boundaries.
I rented a hotel room, we called a cab… and we went into the city for fun.
The night never really panned out as we planned. Early into the evening we were kidnapped by our cab driver… who was from foreign country. And maybe things got a little weird because we were pretending to be something we weren’t… we were playing roles in this new city.
We never made it to a club. We did however walk around town on this Friday night… and I saw something I had never really seen before…lots and lots of homeless people, and lots and lots of young drunk student types. And in this situation of newness, I was witness to yet another thing I was not prepared to see. Those young drunk students, being incredibly mean, rude, disrespectful and inhumane to the homeless population.
I was shocked and disgusted. I had my own experiences with bullying, but this was like watching some sort of sick torture.
Students purposely spilling soda on sitting homeless beggars. One young (I hesitate to use the word man) maliciously kicked a homeless vet’s hat, which was sitting on the ground full of change. The snickering fools walking off as the Vet scrambled across the sidewalk to gather his lost money.
In that moment, some thing flickered inside of me, and in a warm rush it is as though I stepped aside in my own body, and the Spirit of something Bigger came into my heart. It was as though my consciousness had blacked out, and been replaced by the voice and Spirit of Christ.
First thing I knew was, these people need to eat. They need some food. I have money. There is a pizza shop. I can feed them.
So I walk up to a pizza shop window called By The Slice. The guy behind the window is named Jude. Hey Jude.
With confidence, I ask Jude for two large pizzas.
“We don’t sell whole pies here. We only sell by the slice.”
“Well, I am gonna need two whole pizzas.”
“It’s going to be pretty expensive.”
“I don’t really care, there are some homeless people out here that need to eat. I need two pizza’s and a large Mountain Dew.”
Jude smiles, while shaking his head. He tells me it will be a couple minutes before the next pie is out, and he proceeds to ring me up for $91.11. Damn most expensive pizza’s I have ever paid for. But whatever, it was birthday money… and what was I going to do? Probably buy an over priced t-shirt from Ambercrombie, just because it says “Wyoming” across the front? Yeah, probably. An Ambercrombie shirt is about as useful as planking.
While all this is happening, Natasha is in the run around of my journey while following what ever this Celestial Whim was.
I got the pizzas and walked back to the two Vet’s who had their change kicked around. I stood above them with the boxes of pizza.
“Would you like some pizza?” I ask. I am confronted with looks of horror and skepticism.
“Don’t tease us.” One responds.
“I am not teasing. Would you like some pizza?” I open the box and one of the men pulls a piece out, and hands it to the fellow next to him, and shuts the lid to the box.
“You can take more than that… you can take as much as you want.” I open the box again, and let them take out two pieces each.
The man who had not yet said anything now looks at me with tears in his eyes, and asks “Are you mad at me?”
And in this moment, I know he is not talking to ME, but to the Spirit within me in that moment. That warm Spirit which was taking over, while I stepped aside and outside above myself, watched and listened as the words “No, I am not mad at you…I love you.” pour from my lips. Something I, myself, would NOT have said. He begins to cry.
I connected with this man’s eyes. I saw his soul and he saw my sacred heart. I continued down the road, looking for the desolate hovering in corners. I shared what I have to give. Few people asked for money, which I did not give, because the goal was to make sure people were fed and monetary charity is not my style.
This all happened in September of 1999. I had only been at school a few weeks… but this trip changed my life, and it changed me. School to learn who Christ was, no longer seemed like the real way to experience what that love and compassion are. I felt stifled living in a bubble of people who tout a title called Christian… but would only actually do service in community a couple times of year. Helping people seemed like it should be a daily exercise in spiritual growth and development.
The college had some strict rules on leaving campus. So I lied, and told them I was signing out on the weekend to visit family. Really I was renting hotel rooms on credit, and using the money I made at the Christian radio station I worked at, to buy bread, peanut butter and jelly; bags of chips, juice boxes, cookies and packages of granola, plastic sammie bags, brown paper lunch sacks and napkins.
Then I would drive it all to Kansas City, and stay for the weekend walking around alone down town, looking for people to feed. I never felt like I was in any risk of danger, because I was certain whatever was working through me is INVINCIBLE! It was a huge practice in sacrifice and faith. It has been from that point on in life that I knew I was to live in Service to Humanity.
I probably took six trips to KC that semester. One of the excursions a young man, about my age was curious as to what I was doing and why. And it created the most beautiful dialog, because to him, it made sense. And in that moment of it making sense, he wanted to give everything he had in order to help.
“Should I give them my money?” He asked.
“I don’t give money. I will buy something for some one if they express need, however. I think that charity through money is like trying to build a garden without getting your hands dirty. It is easy to just give some one some money, and then they go off and buy beer or drugs… you just send them off on their way. But when you feed a person, or take them to buy something they need, then you are actually participating in service. You are sharing soul space.”
“Have you ever had anyone be mad at you for not giving them money?”
“Yes. And I don’t care. If they get mad they obviously didn’t want what I have to offer. I can’t offer everything to everybody, but I can share what I do have and try to share it wisely.”
“That makes a lot of sense.” And when he walked away, I felt certain his heart had been stirred.
Over the years my service has changed shape and form. But it is the lesson of Christ Consciousness and the Righteous power that we have through harnessing It, which can create a landslide of change in fairly short period of time.
If you believe you live a life of righteous service, and yet you have never felt the Infinite Power of True Selfless Love… you have been living in a delusion, and perhaps you should step outside of your comfort zone for a while. There is nothing wrong with Humility and there is nothing wrong with getting dirty every once in a while. Selfless service is rarely a neat and tidy procedure; but I guarantee that afterward you will feel lighter and with a new sense of strength and purpose.