I stumbled across this the other day:
Interesting, right? It got me thinking about the things in my own life that hold me back. I’ve stopped working on a novel that I really believe in because I’ve created false boundaries for myself, I gave up a solid month where I could have been writing and looking for freelance gigs because I believed I wasn’t a good enough writer to make it work, and I stop myself from having certain experiences in life because of my Ulcerative Colitis.
This is a bunch of crap. Honestly.
There are fake shackles that I’ve created in my mind. Beyond that, how many of us have believed something about ourselves for so long that it turns over from something imagined to something real, something that is part of us? That’s how it is with my UC. For so long I’ve believed that if I’m not fully in remission, then traveling will be too difficult, going out to eat will be nearly impossible, exercising will only make me feel worse. No more.
On Sunday I went with my husband to this kick boxing studio where one of his friends from work does personal training. It’s a small gym and we were the only 3 people there, which was nice. She worked us out hard, but it felt incredible since I don’t do more than walk with the dog and practice yoga a few days a week. There were these sayings all over the walls of the gym and printed on t-shirts they were selling, things like “Pain is weakness leaving the body” and “Pain is beauty, and I feel beautiful today.”
I went there thinking I would suck at kick boxing and be terrible at throwing punches. But you know what? I’m not bad at it. I got lost in the punching, actually. It was hypnotic, having my hands bound in wraps and sweating inside boxing gloves. I was so focused on turning my wrist at the right second, nailing the target on the punching pads, bending my leg at just the right moment that I forgot about the lies I tell myself, the things that I say to keep myself locked up. I shook off the stupid mentality that I can’t go work out because it will be too hard on my stomach. My stomach was fine. And while every muscle in my body is hurting today, it was well worth it.
I do the same thing with my writing. I tell myself I’ll start working on something tomorrow (that short story I’m thinking about, the novel that’s been growing in my brain for 3 years now, sending out queries to magazines) when really that’s just another false boundary I create. For what? To keep things simple? To head of rejection and failure before they can be real?
Forget that. I’m not going to be an elephant.
What are the false boundaries you’ve created in your life? Do you recognize them and give them power, or take their power away?