Posts Tagged With: Feelings

Being Motivated

Discipline equals Freedom

Being motivated doesn’t have much to do with how you feel.  You can ‘feel’ motivated, but that doesn’t mean you are actually motivated.  Encouragement is when you’re having an emotional reaction to some outside stimulus.  You’ve heard a good word, you watched someone else achieve something and you want it for yourself, you’ve been encouraged by friends, family, doctors, co-workers, lovers, etc.  That’s all great, we all need encouragement at times.  We sometimes need someone to get in our face and tell us some hard truths, or whisper in our ear and plant dreams and ideas of something better than our current situation or state of being.  But, motivation is not an emotion, it’s a state of being.  The dictionary states: the reason or reasons one has for acting or behaving in a particular way; the general desire or willingness of someone to do something. It doesn’t say you feel good or feel bad.  Feeling good and/or feeling bad will drive the motivation, but it’s not the motivation. Motivation is the reason for the decision – it’s the driving force behind our actions in spite of how we feel.  Those actions will either make us feel good or bad, but our feelings are not our motivation.

Being motivated – making a decision for whatever reason – is not contingent on how we feel.  We don’t act because we are motivated, we are motivated to act because of decisions we make.

Motivation is a choice.  Motivation must be decided, and enacted, and that is done through discipline.  I am not motivated to work out because of how I feel. I am motivated because the facts are – I must work out to maintain a healthy state of being for my body.  Sometimes I ‘feel’ like working out and conquering the world, and other times I “feel” like lying in bed, eating pizza and hamburgers and being fed bon-bon’s by a handsome king.  So, my feelings are not what motivates me to get up every morning at 4am and head to the gym to work out – my knowledge and understanding of what it takes to remain healthy and active motivates me.  Being able to physically do the things I love to do like kayaking, dancing, having sex, etc motivates me to get up when I’m tired, when my body hurts, when it’s cold, when it’s lonely, when I didn’t sleep well, when progress is slow, when it doesn’t seem like anyone else in the world cares.  I go through the motions anyway – despite my feelings – because my motivation to achieve what I want is greater than how I’m feeling in the moment. That takes discipline.  As Jocko Willink says, “If you stop looking for a short cut …and find your discipline and your will, then you will find your freedom. Discipline = freedom.”

So, stop lying to yourself.  Stop whining about not being motivated because you’re feeling lazy.  You’re not motivated because you haven’t found your reason.  Stop waiting on how you feel and start looking for your reason, that reason that is going to push you forward on the days you want to retreat.  Start looking for that reason that will drag you on when you want to give up.  Start looking for that reason that will go beyond how you feel and hold onto it tightly. Put it in front of you every day.  Post it on your mirror, your fridge, your door, your office computer, your phone so you can see it every day – and let that TRUTH be your motivation.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

 

 

Categories: author T.L. Gray, blogging, Dream, Faith, family, friends, Health & Fitness, Hope, Life, love, Musing., Philosophy, Spiritual, T.L. Gray, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Finding My Purpose

Finding My Purponse

Feeling lost is no picnic. I really think it is the leading cause of depression. It’s at least a feeling I have to deal with from time to time. I’m a pretty positive person, full of energy, jam-packed with ambition, and overflowing with drive …on most days. I’m almost always busy, almost always going, almost never sitting still, and almost never bored …almost. My brain NEVER rests. There are some days I feel lost, drained, lonely, and completely unfocused. Shhh, don’t tell anyone.  That’s our little secret.

But, why?  Why do I go through those emotions?  Is it chemical? Is it physical? Is it mental? Is it genetic? Is it psychosomatic? Is it part of my PTSD? Is it hormonal fluctuations as I age further into menopause? It could be one, all, or a combination. I don’t always know the root cause. But, and this is a big but (sort of like my backside), I notice most often those feelings of depression, being tired, drained and lonely surface most when I’m without a purpose, when I’m in the transition from one purpose or the other, when life shifts and my needs and wants change – because that’s when my purpose changes, when my goals change, when my priorities have to be rearranged, when my emotions fluctuate and when my daily stresses and requirements shift.

I am a blessed, healthy, smart, capable, gifted and well-loved woman. I ‘should’ be happy ALL THE TIME.  I’m passionate …about EVERYTHING, I’m an empath, an artist, and a philosophical thinker – so I feel deeply about EVERYTHING – good and bad.  My joy is amazing, yet my grief is brutal, my love is overwhelming, yet my mistrust is deep-rooted, my belief is strong, yet my faith is full of doubt, I’m a walking, breathing contradiction.  But, God have mercy when I find purpose – because when I do, my focus becomes laser-sharp, my ambition becomes great, my gifts kick into action, and there’s literally NOTHING I can’t do that I set my heart and mind to accomplish.  My mustard-seed faith becomes activated, my strength builds, my courage grows, and I become unstoppable.

I amaze myself sometimes when I think of the things I’ve accomplished, the things I’ve overcome, the things I’ve survived, and the experiences (both good and bad) that I’ve had, and how they have shaped the woman I am today.  I’m only 48, but I’ve already lived an amazingly horrific wonderful scary exciting life.  I want to live another 48 years filled with even more adventures, accomplishments, experiences, and love …most of all love. Yet, I’ve done most of it alone, even when I was married or in close relationships I chased my passions alone.

I have loved very deeply, and I want to be loved just as deeply. I want to find a purpose that fuels me, but for this half of my life I want to share that purpose, drive, and passion with someone who loves me, wants me, and wants share their passions with me.  I have had many purposes in my life – daughter, sister, protector, mother, fiancé, wife, friend, student, cheerleader, fighter, worker, manger, boss, entrepreneur, reporter, gamer, survivor, teacher, humanitarian, coordinator, leader, singer/song-writer/musician, author, speaker, coach, editor, agent, buyer, step-mother, and girlfriend.  What’s next? When I find my next purpose – watch out, because I will be unstoppable.

 

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Categories: author T.L. Gray, blogging, Dream, Dreams, Faith, family, Health & Fitness, Hope, Hurt, Independence, Inspirational, Instructional, Life, love, Poetry, relationship, Relationships, respect, Spiritual, T.L. Gray, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Don’t Be So Quick To Judge

New Post

If you know me, if you’ve met me, or if you’ve read any of my blog posts over the past several years, you would probably say that I’m able to easily express my emotions, that I’m an emotional person, or that I’m clearly in touch with my emotions.  You’d be wrong. Very wrong. It takes a hard, concerted effort, and one that I have to work on EVERY day to express my emotions, or to even acknowledge them.  I sometimes fail. I sometimes fall back into my safety net, and cower behind my wall of steel, stone and ice, to protect myself from feeling the full impact of the pain that’s in my life.

If you’re shaking your head, because you don’t believe it – let me explain.

I have PTSD, and a pretty bad case of it. For those of you who instantly just filled your mind with the idea that those who battle with PTSD are weak, you’re fucking wrong. Let me repeat: YOU ARE FUCKING WRONG!  THOSE who FAIL to face their truth and battle with their PTSD are the weak ones, not the other way around.  The strongest of souls fight battles every day most of us don’t even have an idea of their struggle, because they’re not weak-ass pansies throwing their problems on everyone else, looking for that pat on the back, or that bit of sympathy. They acknowledge their pain, face it, and deal with it head on no matter how hard, how much it hurts, how much it’s going turn their world upside down.  They are not quitters.

I hate pity and sympathy. It irritates the shit out of me when people feel sorry for me when they learn about some of the struggles I’ve been through. I hate it. It’s one of the reasons I had kept my mouth shut for so long, because I hated to see that look on their faces or hear that sound of pity in their voices – and then watch as they begin to treat me like a victim – with kid gloves, afraid to offend me, afraid to be themselves in order to not hurt me. If I broke so easily, I wouldn’t be who I am today.  I’m the strongest fucking person I know in this world and I hate being treated like a victim or a fragile flower. But that’s the kind of world in which we live, where people want sympathy and excuses for their failures instead of someone refusing to carry their lazy asses and tell them to pick themselves up off the floor and fight.  I hate fucking excuses and I literally hear them day in and day out.

I don’t pity others.  If you come to me with your sad story – you WILL tug at my heart strings. I’m a fucking bleeding heart – but then you’re going to stir the warrior inside and I’m not going to come to you and put my arms around and you pat you on the back.  I’m going to get in your face and ask you what the fuck you’ve done to pull yourself out of the situation, to protect yourself from it happening again, what you’ve learned, and what you’re doing to fight to protect yourself.  If I see you fighting – I’m going to jump in the lion’s den with you and do whatever is necessary to help you succeed.  But, if you’re cowering in the corner – and want me to do the fighting for you – THAT SHIT AIN’T HAPPENING. I’ve nearly killed myself saving fucking victims. I can’t do it.  I won’t do it.  If you’re a victim, if you are immobilized because you can’t get over your shit – I can’t help you. I have no sympathy for you.

I don’t want to know what you WANT to do. I want to know what you’re DOING. I respect someone flat on their ass because they’ve failed attempting to fulfill their dreams, or attempting to overcome something that’s holding them back, than some whiny-ass bitch with a bunch of dreams but doing NOTHING to make that dream come true. I admire people that don’t give up. I admire people that aren’t afraid to own their failures and mistakes. If your ass is broke because you half-ass everything you do, take short cuts, or have a bitter attitude that you’re struggle has ANYTHING to do with your culture, skin color, opportunities, sex, or breeding – I can’t even talk to you. FUCK YOU. I hope you lose everything you’ve got so that way maybe you’ll be forced to struggle to fight for everything and learn to respect yourself and learn your worth and stop making fucking excuses for your failure. YOU own your success or failure.  And we more than likely have a different definition of failures – because some failures are victories if there was something learned or gained.

THAT is an example of my PTSD.  I will help, protect, fight with, and be open with honest, straight-forward people. But, I don’t trust most people. I don’t even like people to touch me or get into my personal space.  If I hug you or allow you to touch me, it wasn’t nothing – it took a huge effort and a whole lot of trust. And being able to write my truth – that took a long, long, time to get to this level of freedom. My breakthrough came when I started writing to MYSELF. When I started to love the warrior inside, the woman that deserved to be acknowledged and appreciated.  It took me until I was almost 30 years old before I could even cry.  I never said the words “I Love You”.  Ask my first husband. All we ever got to was, “I like you a whole lot.”

So, the point I’m getting at is this – when you meet someone who has a hard time expressing their emotions – quit expecting them to respond to things and situations in the way YOU would respond. They are not you.  If you see them struggling to express, step back – you don’t know what they’re carrying. Now, don’t give place to victims. Don’t placate or enable victims’ excuses.  And don’t take disrespect from them either. No matter what they’re struggling with – love yourself enough to expect to be treated with respect. If you don’t get it, ask for it. If you still don’t get it – show them your back because they’re nothing but fucking vampires and they’ll suck the life out of you in an attempt to fill their own emptiness. Treat people with respect for who THEY are – take the opportunity and time to find out HOW to relate to them. That’s the ultimate expression of love and respect is actually observing and giving someone the focus and time to get to know THEM for who they are inside.  If you’re too busy, or too self-absorbed, you’re a shitty friend and just move on for their sake.

If I care about someone, I’m Nancy-Fucking-Drew. I’m always asking questions, observing how they respond to me, quick to apologize if I over step, and am honest – brutally and openly honest.  A lot of people can’t handle truth because we live in such a disconnected world, hidden behind our social media and self-help bullshit, quick to just ghost and hide from responsibility and then whine and complain that shit don’t work. We’re too quick to swipe left or right, and when things get hard (and ALL fucking life is hard at some points) we run back to level one where it’s easy. We get offended too easily. My best friend right now is someone I’m not afraid to get in her face, and she’s not afraid to get in mine, because we know we may get mad, but we will always be back the next day to work it out.

I actually had a guy tell me the other day he doesn’t like drama. He doesn’t respond to drama and only wants to hang out to have ‘fun’.  I’m sorry – but that’s not a FRIEND. That’s a fucking acquaintance, or what they call a ‘fair-weathered friend’.  I don’t need those in my life. I love my sunshine and I love to share my sunshine with my FRIENDS who’ve been through the storms with me. They deserve my sunshine. Fucking fair-weathered friends don’t deserve anything from me – especially my time. My time is valuable and precious. When I’m with my friends, they have my full focus. I need them at times, and I need to be there for them at times.  Yes, we shouldn’t surround ourselves with negative people. I will be the first to send someone stepping if all I hear out of their mouth is negative bullshit. But, there’s a huge difference between a negative person and someone going through something.  I am deep, and I’ve got deep wounds and no weak ass punk is going to be able to handle my truth. That’s probably why I love badass Rangers, mean ass Marines, and those warring Navy SEALS. They make street thugs look like fucking pussy cats. I’m the daughter of an International Cartel Drug Dealer – and I’ve seen some shit – but I don’t have anything to worry about when one of these guys have my six. NOT ONE FUCKING WORRY. They can handle it.  But, no matter how tough they are – emotions may not be something they easily handle. But that in no way makes them weak.  Those who don’t take the time to try and understand how to listen, how to relate – they are the weak ones. A warrior is deep, and only deep can hear the deep.  Leave all that shallow ass bullshit for those fair-weathered friends.  I’m not a frogman, but I swim in deep waters.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Categories: author T.L. Gray, Blog Post, Destiny, Dream, Faith, family, friends, Health & Fitness, Hope, Hurt, Independence, Inspirational, Instructional, Life, love, Musing, Musings, Philosophy, Quotes, relationship, Relationships, respect, Spiritual, T.L. Gray, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I’m Scared, But It Feels Good!

 

I'm Scared, But it Feels Good

I can’t even express what I’ve been through emotionally, physically, psychologically, or even intellectually over the past few years.  Well, I don’t have to, these blogs have recorded that for me.  I find myself even unable to read them because those emotions are just under the surface, and I can’t jump back onto that roller-coaster ride, not yet. The highs are really high, and the lows are so deep I find myself really, really, really wanting to stay afloat for just a little while somewhere in the middle, somewhere in a medium, somewhere safe I can breathe.  Don’t get me wrong, I still want to feel the thrill of the peaks and the even the pain of the depths, but I just plead the universe gives me a little time to enjoy this moment of inertia.

I’ve met someone recently, a wonderful, handsome Marine that keeps me smiling. I call him my Bello, because that’s what he is to me, he’s a beautiful soul that arrived in the midst of my darkness.  I’m not sure I can explain what meeting him and knowing him is doing to me, because whatever is happening it’s momentarily outside my understanding.  I’m not going to say it’s love, but I’m not going to say it’s not.  I can only honestly say it’s different.  All the loves of my life have been different. Some complicated. Some painful.  All in the past, all gone, all of them I lost either by death, divorce, or deception. Each left a mark, a scar of their own, but a scar that I’m not ashamed to bare.  These scars have made me who I am.  I have no regrets.

Last year, when I thought I was dying, I pushed everyone that meant anything to me out of my life, or at least to the edges of it, and built this huge wall of fear.  I became afraid… of everything and everyone.  I lost that girl that was living out loud and doing all these amazing things.  God, I envied her, I still do.  She was so full of life, so full of hope, so exuberant, taking on the world and taking a chance on life and on love.  Even now, I still envy her.  I fell in love with her, with myself, with life.  She had nothing, yet she had everything. But, I had to let her go, because cancer killed her, fear destroyed her, and a broken heart ripped her to pieces. She went from living out-loud and deep into survival mode – a place of numbness, detachment, minimal existence, darkness.

But light has entered the room.  Not a big light, but a little one and it grows brighter every day, exposing the shadows that have petrified me for too long.  I’m waking, wanting to find my way back to the light, back to a life full of sunshine, a life where I can once again live out loud.  I have too many dreams, too many hopes, too many passions to keep them hidden in the dark.  A dear revertant friend of mine has helped me see a glimpse that girl I once was, and though I can’t go back and be her, I can be even more.  I survived, again.  I’ve lost so much, but there is much more ahead of me.  My Bello is showing me that though I’ve lost a lot, but those I’ve lost also lost me. I suppose that’s what I’ve had a hard time to see.  I’ve been so focused on what and who I’ve lost, even the girl I used to be, to see that I was the one lost, not them.  They lost me.  For whatever reason they didn’t choose me. Now, here I am, breathing, standing on my own two feet, staring at a world of possibility, alive, and ready to live.  I’m scared, but it feels good.  I’m ready to live out loud again. I’m ready to jump back into the light and fly.  My wounds are still there, and I have a few new scars, but my wings are not broken.  They’re sore, but I’m so ready to fly.  Yet, this adventure will be different, because I’m different.  I’m not the same woman I used to be. I haven’t yet figured out who she is yet, but I’m okay with that.

My Bello came to see me this week.  He moved his schedule around so that I wouldn’t spend Christmas alone.  Someone put me first.  It felt nice.  He moves me to find me.  He encourages me to chase my passions. He doesn’t ask me for anything.  He makes me feel beautiful, wanted, desired, and adored. Mostly, he inspires me want to live out loud.  While I love the feel of his strong arms around me, or the softness of his lips upon mine, I mostly love the fact that I don’t want to change for him. I only want him to hold my hand as I break out of this cocoon and spread my wings.

I have loved deeply.  I have loved faithfully. I have loved wildly.  Mostly, I think I’ve loved love.  Maybe now it’s time for love to love me back.  I’m still scared, but it feels good.

 

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Categories: author T.L. Gray, blogging, Inspirational, Life, love, Philosophy, relationship, Writing | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.