The beginning of anything is always the hardest part. My tendency is to be greatly organized before I get started on anything new, but truthfully, no one can be great until they get started. So here it is, my new beginning is now bravely being written down on the screen. “Daring greatly”, as Brene Brown would say. At least for me it feels like daring greatly, because there is a certain amount of fear associated with change. I’m about to make some big changes. I’ve mustered up enough strength, regardless of my apprehension, to stop sitting on the edge simply whining about what I want.
I am changing my present life from that of a large-bodied woman, to someone who I truly see myself as, smaller and more outgoing. I am going to write about how my vegetable garden will be an imperative part of that personal transformation. Lately, I have observed a lot of parallels in the way a garden grows, with the way people grow and change. Those experiences will be an intricate part of how I will reach my goals, and write My Lawn to Food Life story.
At this stage in a new concept, I typically have an uneasy feeling that hovers over me. Whenever I make a choice to do something different, something requiring effort and change, an icky feeling of panic sets in. I call it the OMG moment. When half of my mind audibly screams, “Are you nuts? Where do you come up with these crazy ideas? What makes you think you can pull this off? Just go back to your comfort zone, and stay who you are right now”, and other self-deflating accusations.
“A comfort zone is a wonderful place, but nothing ever grows there.”
That point, of feeling uncomfortable, exposed and unsure if I can “pull it off”, is the most difficult to get through. It’s the moment of truth. “Are you going to do it? I think you can do it. Remember, if you say you are going to do it, you have to follow through”, is the explaination from my other half-a-mind.
If the pros & cons are evenly matched in my head, I usually turn to others for some outside validation. “Am I good enough? Do they think my idea is good enough? Do they think I can do this?”. Asking for others opinions on my ideas, is a slippery slope. If I give the opinions of others too much merit, they can tip the scale in favor of, or against. I’m learning that it’s best for me, to ignore others, to trust myself and to just run with my crazy ideas. It can be a scary and vulnerable place … but here’s the thing … If I am not open, if I don’t put myself out there, it will be the same as not trying at all. To change anything I must be vulnerable, which is not a weakness, but being receptive to both negative and positive repercussions. If I don’t go out on a limb, I’m not going to get hurt … or get any fruit.
“Vulnerability is the cornerstone of confidence and the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change.”
― Brené Brown
I started writing this blog entry for My Lawn to Food Life about 2 weeks ago. I didn’t publish it at the time because I was teetering on the edge of “am I going to do this or not”. Strange things have happened since then. At first, I was extremely hungry (which is usually happens to me whenever I think about losing weight). What was different this time is, instead of being restrictive, I did eat a lot of food! … then I didn’t feel like eating much at all. Next, I drank a lot of wine & cider, and then I didn’t drink as much. For a couple of days, I cared excessively for others, getting buried in their lives instead of my own, then I completely cared less. What a relief that was. Next, I frantically exercised with anger, like a raging storm, followed by a day on the couch watching TV. At times, my temper is explosive, then a serene, calm and gratefulness comes over me. It’s all very odd. I feel like I am pushing boundaries both negative and positive. A forceful breaking out of old routines to make room for new directions, resembling a young seed sprouting into spring soil.
“For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.
― Cynthia Occelli