I want to be free, so time to tell some truths.
I’m a hypocrite. I didn’t realize just how big a one I had become until Wednesday. I gave my first Desire Map workshop to a circle of women that I’ve just recently become acquainted with. The workshop went well. There are a few tweaks that I’m going to make going forward to my delivery, but for the most part, I believe they got a decent introduction to the Desire Map process and are well on their way to integrating Core Desired Feelings into their every day.
I have been Desire Mapping once a year for the past, five or six years. I became a Desire Map facilitator last year. I’ve been sharing my core desired feelings and the process as the foundation of living my best life to date.
After Wednesday’s workshop a small voice of doubt took to whispering in my ear. At first I thought it was the beginnings of Imposter Syndrome – the latest thing to be trending on social media right now. And then I thought maybe it might just be fear of success. Then this morning, after a couple of nights of sleep disturbed by periods of not quite nightmares – more like hallucinations – interspersed with my usual weird sleep, I realize the voice has been calling me out.
I’ve been using the hashtag “Practicing What I Teach” for a couple of months now and it is complete and utter bullshit as far as my life goes. Oh sure, I woke up enough to take BSchool and “officially” launch my business; I let my daughter’s cheer-leading prompt me to “launch” my YouTube channel. I designed my own website, spending money on a domain name and proper hosting. I launched my signature writer’s course – got four people to sign up even. I had a content calendar for the entire year of 2019; created my plan to take my writer’s course to an online platform (which by the way opens for registration this month).
I did all of that but when it came to really stepping into my CDFs and LIVING the life I’d always wanted? I wrapped myself in unconscious and conscious excuses and crawled back into my comfort zone (coffin) and feel asleep.
Wednesday’s workshop woke me up a little and the little voice began its chanting.
So here I am, confessing my sins. I am unhappy. I am at least 52 pounds overweight (scale says I’m 45.5% body fat). I work a job that pays me nicely but sucks the Light right out of my soul. I don’t speak my truth. My home is neither supportive, positive, or restorative in any way. As I mentioned, I make decent money but I still seem to end up “broke”. I haven’t met any of my deadlines, I’ve all but abandoned my FB group for my writing clients and I have a barely finished draft waiting to be edited that I’m supposed to release in April. I don’t advertise my business. I broke my website. I keep sabotaging any forward movement I make. My credit score is back into the 500’s.
This is NOT my best life. My CDFs are just words on my bathroom mirror.
And this post feels like another excuse; another round of whining.
But I guess it’s a start, eh?