What Happens When I Try to Change

Thank you for all the responses from last week's newsletter. Here are a few:


"I need to save today's message. Lots of good stuff in there. I won't be cutting my hair though!!! Starting over is very hard especially when all I feel right now is unmotivated. Thanks for sharing your wisdom with all of us."


"When I was sick in 2022 and was getting back to it, I felt the same way. Wow I had lost a lot of strength and stamina! Being 77 and building back up was a bit daunting! I was back to 3 lb. weights and had been up to 8-10 at the time we walked the 1/2 marathon. Now I am back to 5-6 lbs. and feeling good about it. There are days the 3's get used again but that is ok. My husband stole a line from Clint Eastwood when he would say, "You have got to know your limitations". But with that in mind I can and still DO. A lot of progress has been made, and I am pretty happy with that! But that is what a good trainer does. She knows you and understands what you are capable of on any day because she listens. And I am grateful!"


I thought both responses were very relatable. Lack of motivation and recovering from a lengthy illness are both difficult eras. So how do we move forward and find the fire again?


Here is what I did after my three-year injury. I identified one change I wanted to make. For me, that was gain muscle. I had lost a lot and I felt weak.


Here is where the change process comes in. Remember the change box? I stepped into it. That meant strength training 3x/week and increasing my protein intake quite a bit. Sounds simple enough.


However, I am a great example of "I know what to do, I just don't do it."


It took soul searching to remember why. Oh, yeah! A tsunami comes at us when we step out of our comfort zone and try to make a change.


It's loud. It's overwhelming. It's fear. It's lies.


Mine sounded like this. "It's too late. It's over. The injuries were too severe. There's no coming back from this. Your leg is held together by metal. If you try too hard, you will reinjure yourself. You aren't safe. Do you want to end up back in the hospital? Stay in self-protection mode. Stay in survival mode. Be careful."

Friends, just because I can hear the voice talking, doesn't mean I am supposed to listen to it. These are fears and lies disguised as security and protection.


In physical therapy, they call this "guarding". Muscles that surround an injured site become rigid and immobile.


For me, the antidote was to find the truth.


The voice of fear tried to get me to believe that the key to being safe was self-protection, becoming rigid and immobile. But the truth is, I am already safe. I trust myself to move my body.


The voice of lies tried to get me to believe that not trying was safer than trying and failing. Wrong. My surgeon told me the truth when she said to go live my life without limits.


The loud voice of overwhelm tried to get me to believe it was all too much. But the still, small voice knows how to take it one day at a time, one step at a time.


I had a sudden flashback to leading my seminar with the pink duct tape on the floor. I was standing inside the middle box. The change box. The tsunami was coming at me relentlessly. I had my armor on. Not the armor of self-protection. The armor of truth.


I have learned that those are two very different kinds of armor. One leads nowhere.


The other sets you free.