CONFESSIONS OF A GOAL DIGGER

Rule of LORE

 ‘How do I score a goal he asked?’ ‘You need to propel the ball forward to successfully reach the target’. I’d never acknowledged the parallels of ‘life goals’ with those ‘goals’ responsible for thousands of screaming sports fans lifting the rooftops of sporting stadiums around the world, game after game. This was until I embarked on the journey of discovering what a ‘personal goal’ really was and how achieving them changes your life. You might wonder what there was to discover? Isn’t a goal simply something you dream to have or achieve? Yes, you’re right, goals are just dreams without deadlines. A personal goal is about propelling yourself, rather than the ball, forward to successfully reach your target within a particular deadline. Ha! Thankfully, we get longer than ninety minutes. Sorry to disappoint you though, achieving a personal goal won’t be accompanied by thousands of screaming fans, streakers or…

View original post 731 more words

CONFESSIONS OF A GOAL DIGGER

 ‘How do I score a goal he asked?’ ‘You need to propel the ball forward to successfully reach the target’. I’d never acknowledged the parallels of ‘life goals’ with those ‘goals’ responsible for thousands of screaming sports fans lifting the rooftops of sporting stadiums around the world, game after game. This was until I embarked on the journey of discovering what a ‘personal goal’ really was and how achieving them changes your life. You might wonder what there was to discover? Isn’t a goal simply something you dream to have or achieve? Yes, you’re right, goals are just dreams without deadlines. A personal goal is about propelling yourself, rather than the ball, forward to successfully reach your target within a particular deadline. Ha! Thankfully, we get longer than ninety minutes. Sorry to disappoint you though, achieving a personal goal won’t be accompanied by thousands of screaming fans, streakers or high fives with fellow jersey wearing fans in the ‘quick beers’ line at your local stadium. Instead, it will be a hangover free feeling of utter elation that will warm your soul and ignite the flame of personal development and self discovery. Still sounds pretty ‘atmospheric’ yeah? Well, why do so many of us neglect to set goals, real tangible life changing goals? And even more frequently fail to ever achieve them?

Like most topics I’ve written about recently, ‘motherhood’ was responsible for me finally realising that the trouble with not having personal goals is that you can spend your life running up and down the field and never score. Or should I say up and down the side of the cot and never achieve ‘closed eyes’. Or up and down the treadmill and never lose any weight. From that ‘rocky bottom’ I found myself on as a new mum I set myself some personal goals. Sure, the most obvious of these was getting off the rocky bottom, but to do that I had to set specific goals addressing the issues that lead me there in the first place. What I discovered on the journey of achieving these goals is that the ‘journey’ itself is actually the real reward.

Let’s put aside my specific ‘mother’ related goals, you know the ones where you propel yourself towards the shower eight times before you actually get under the water, or you wash that load of clothes three times over three separate days before it gets hung out. Perhaps the most significant has been that of successfully adopting a healthy lifestyle, resulting in some amazing jackpots. I’d attempted this goal before, but lacked the deadline; just a dream it remained. This time though, it’s stuck, and as a result that flame I spoke of earlier burns red hot and dare I say it, proudly. Hold on, didn’t I just tell you the best part of goal setting is the journey? So, what could possibly be more empowering to ones self development than a significant physical change of a body once so despised? The realisation that the self-discipline and willpower required to achieve such a goal is now stronger than I could have ever imagined.

How many sporting games have you watched where you’ve never seen an injury or setback of some description? That’s right, not many. Rarely are goals scored at any of those sporting stadiums without being accompanied by some ‘injuries’ along the way, making that target all the more difficult to reach. Whether it’s on the motherhood journey, in the workplace or in the gym, this is the point where most of us fail. We fail to achieve the deadline, so we pop the goal back up on the shelf in the ‘dream box’. That’s the one that sits beside your beloved ‘runners up encouragement award’ longing to be replaced with the ‘winners trophy’. I did it for years. We’ve all heard the saying that the journey is more important than the destination’. It took me a while to actually internalise it’s meaning, but when I did it was my unlocking. We all read these types of ‘inspirational pieces’ oozing profound wisdom, come on, you know you do. Now ask yourself if you just nod your head in agreement, or actually internalise their meanings? Chances are these pieces make you feel warm and fuzzy inside, setting you on a positive path for a few moments, giving you that ‘inspirational high’. You know the one where you feel unstoppable? It’s true though, we are unstoppable, but what I’ve learnt is that a theoretical appreciation of this wisdom is not enough; it needs to be internalised to become an active part of our ‘being’. Okay, I know what some of you are thinking, geez now she’s getting all ‘philosophical’ and stuff. My guess is, you are the ones that have never propelled yourself far enough forward to reach the target and hit your own jackpot? Unlucky!

So how did I begin ‘internalising’ things? Simple really. Put yourself in challenging situations, peer out from behind that mask of fear I’ve spoken of and take risks, set yourself audacious goals and begin applying those inspirational statements you read to this process. Your experiences will grow beyond your imagination and soon you will find yourself as a fellow self confessed goal digger.

 

 

 

FEAR… from behind the mask.

Rule of LORE

Fear; it’s the idea crippling, success stalling inhibitor that penetrates our lives often with a decent dose of self-infliction. Overcoming our fears, results in our greatest growth, equally hiding behind these fears results in that scary spiral of self-destruction. I’ve mentioned this spiral before remember? Last year I succumbed to its ‘identity’ thieving powers after experiencing motherhood for the first time.

Fear and motherhood had become a prominent partnership in my life, featuring almost as frequently as the wine and cheese partnership in my former life. Needless to say the outcomes of over indulgence in both had similar consequences. What did fear and wine have in common you ask? Ha, let’s not kid ourselves ladies! We all know wine is laced with bikini body sabotaging calories, but what I didn’t know until I chose to challenge my fear was that it too was laced in calories. Obviously not as directly…

View original post 543 more words

FEAR… from behind the mask.

Fear; it’s the idea crippling, success stalling inhibitor that penetrates our lives often with a decent dose of self-infliction. Overcoming our fears, results in our greatest growth, equally hiding behind these fears results in that scary spiral of self-destruction. I’ve mentioned this spiral before remember? Last year I succumbed to its ‘identity’ thieving powers after experiencing motherhood for the first time.

Fear and motherhood had become a prominent partnership in my life, featuring almost as frequently as the wine and cheese partnership in my former life. Needless to say the outcomes of over indulgence in both had similar consequences. What did fear and wine have in common you ask? Ha, let’s not kid ourselves ladies! We all know wine is laced with bikini body sabotaging calories, but what I didn’t know until I chose to challenge my fear was that it too was laced in calories. Obviously not as directly as the wine, after all ‘fear’ doesn’t come with nutritional information, but if it did, it wouldn’t be pretty. Fear was the driving force behind my often out of control ‘emotional eating.’ I hid behind the mask of fear, at what was I’m sure the longest masquerade party in history. What I neglected to acknowledge at any point during this party was that the mouth on the mask was not that of a glitter enhanced paper cutout, it actually belonged to the body, and unfortunately the body had no disguise. The harsh effects of my emotional eating were robustly evident. Do you live your life behind the mask to protect yourself from the fear of failure? I did.

I knew fear was ‘human’, we all experience it, and come to think of it those who don’t have probably already succumb to the consequences. What I didn’t understand though is why some people live extraordinary lives, and others live mediocre ones? Why couldn’t I be one of those ‘go getters’ I relentlessly admired from the sidelines? That rough ‘rock bottom’ of that downward spiral that I hope never touches your toes is where I found the answer; FEAR. Turns out the fear of failing is holding so many of us from reaching our true ‘extraordinary’ potential. Living behind the mask of fear was what would prohibit me from living nothing more than the ‘mediocre’ life many of us accept as our destiny; the ‘mediocre’ life full of dreams, or the ‘extraordinary’ life of achieving goals?

So what do others, in particular mothers that dabble in the ‘extraordinary’ life do when faced with the fears that were invading my mask? They sure as hell don’t eat there way to a lower level of the mediocre retreat the way I did. They jump in the lift straight to the penthouse, admire the view and face their fears head on. Wake up, feel the fear, and go get what they want. Yes, they have sat crippled over in the corner while their baby ‘cries it out’. Yes they have felt like their heart is going to explode through the chest wall while they sweat it out at the gym. Yes they have paced the floor with uncontrollable anxiety having just pressed send on a ‘difficult’ email. I’ve learnt that these individuals, whether mothers or not, grow more extraordinary everyday facing the world with a proudly ‘maskless’ face.

Peeling this mask away is the next step, how do I do that? It’s protected my inner vulnerable self from being seen for so long. Fear created this mask, and fear was keeping it in place. Release the fear; the mask should fall. Sounds easy. So, where do you buy ‘mask remover’ I asked. It took me a while to find, but I knew it existed because those admiring that penthouse view had already used it. Finally I found it. For your information, you buy it from your heart and it’s otherwise known as COURAGE. Best part is, it’s free to us all. Safe to say, it’s the best purchase I’ve made yet, and I’ve only just cracked the tube, how exciting. I’d offer to share it, but you’ve got your own. Go get it.

Identity… ‘mother’

Rule of LORE

It’s no breaking news, babies change your life. Every expecting or new mother is pretty sure they are ready for what’s ahead. Sure, there’s going to be sleepless nights, crying at all hours and loads of nappies, but ‘I’ve got this’, because ‘I’m going to have a beautiful little bundle to spoil with cuddles and kisses for a life time’. Right? I read countless articles, blogs, books and mags during pregnancy about all this ‘stuff’, confident I was suitably armed for what was coming my way. Turns out I was missing a crucial piece of this puzzle, not once did I read about the enormous impact that ‘losing’ my own identity would have on my mental and physical health. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a mother, but surely this new aspect of life is supposed to strengthen my already prospering existence, isn’t it?

Have you heard…

View original post 716 more words

Excuses…they’re your choice.

Be stronger than your excuses…

Rule of LORE

Excuses, they’re your choice.

Every excuse is preceded by a choice, every choice is accompanied by a consequence, a consequence that is too often accepted with another excuse. The ability to find excuses so easily allows us to avoid challenging our comfort zones, the key to our self-growth. It’s a vicious cycle. There are enough awful hands in life’s deck of cards dealt without choice, so why accept excuses leading to consequences that could have been avoided with better choices? I’m starting to understand the power of choice, and it’s life changing.

So, I know what you’re thinking: we don’t always know the potential consequences associated with our choices. Correct, often we don’t, but far more often we do. For too long I let easy excuses influence the future of my health and well-being. Avoiding challenging my comfort zone, embracing bad habits, denying the truth, my book was full, page…

View original post 520 more words

Excuses…they’re your choice.

Excuses, they’re your choice.

Every excuse is preceded by a choice, every choice is accompanied by a consequence, a consequence that is too often accepted with another excuse. The ability to find excuses so easily allows us to avoid challenging our comfort zones, the key to our self-growth. It’s a vicious cycle. There are enough awful hands in life’s deck of cards dealt without choice, so why accept excuses leading to consequences that could have been avoided with better choices? I’m starting to understand the power of choice, and it’s life changing.

So, I know what you’re thinking: we don’t always know the potential consequences associated with our choices. Correct, often we don’t, but far more often we do. For too long I let easy excuses influence the future of my health and well-being. Avoiding challenging my comfort zone, embracing bad habits, denying the truth, my book was full, page after page of well-worn excuses. How’s your book? Surely I would run out one day and stop this self-destructive spiral? Or not.

Thankfully becoming a mother threw this spiral into a chaotic whirlwind of… I don’t even know what, maybe reality. During a midnight feed I was trolling one of the social media feeds on my phone, yes that’s correct, I was on Facebook while feeding my baby. It paid off in the end trust me, anyway I read about some new celebrity mother advertising ‘weekly meal delivery diets’ to ‘bounce back to pre baby shape’. It read something along the lines of ‘drop your post baby weight without the hassle of cooking’, and not surprisingly was accompanied by an image of an amazing looking woman, bitch. After snickering at the idea that this woman had probably never even had a baby, or had she, I found myself offended. The defensive excuses began to flow, I’m too busy, it’s too expensive, too tired, no babysitter, bla bla bla, a habit I had made a reliable part of my life. It probably featured everyday, on so many levels. But, we’re not talking about habit here, that’s for another day.

Tossing around in bed waiting for the next wake up, I pondered on the concrete view I had lived with forever that prioritising my health & well-being were optional luxuries in life, luxuries that came after being a mum. Being a mum is a never-ending job, so looks like this luxury was one for the single ladies. I began asking myself why was I so quick to judge anyone suggesting that I should consider experiencing this luxury. Why was I was quick to criticise mothers that had already embraced this luxury and that of the controversial athleisure culture?

In hindsight my judgement and offensive stance were nothing more than a mask of well-polished excuses protecting my pride. I was the jealous comfort zone stuck woman, choosing to avoid the truth. The truth was that I was an overweight, unhealthy role model, destined for some of the worst cards in the pack, by choice. No one would choose to get cancer would they? But still people smoke. No one would choose to be derailed in life by chronic health conditions would they? Yet people choose to accept being overweight, the perfect precursor. I was one of them, and still am to some extent, but I’m so thankful I chose to make a change. How many others are out there, making a choice to live behind the face of easy excuses?

There are enough cards in life we can’t choose, it’s time to realise the power of choice in the things we can. Ask yourself if your excuses are really worth the consequence. I’ve discovered a healthy lifestyle is a must, not a nice to have. To me, it’s kind of like fuel is a must to drive the car. There is no excuse to accept poor habits. You might think that’s harsh, but chances are it’s an excuse. If you do, prepare to accept the ‘optional’ consequences associated with your choice.

 

 

 

Pic: infernofitnessstudio

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Identity… ‘mother’

It’s no breaking news, babies change your life. Every expecting or new mother is pretty sure they are ready for what’s ahead. Sure, there’s going to be sleepless nights, crying at all hours and loads of nappies, but ‘I’ve got this’, because ‘I’m going to have a beautiful little bundle to spoil with cuddles and kisses for a life time’. Right? I read countless articles, blogs, books and mags during pregnancy about all this ‘stuff’, confident I was suitably armed for what was coming my way. Turns out I was missing a crucial piece of this puzzle, not once did I read about the enormous impact that ‘losing’ my own identity would have on my mental and physical health. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a mother, but surely this new aspect of life is supposed to strengthen my already prospering existence, isn’t it?

Have you heard of social mothering pressure? It’s toxic. It’s everywhere, constant comparisons about babies, bodies and breast feeding, social pressure to meet ridiculous standards all accompanied by relentless guilt. Even if you think you haven’t heard of it, you have. It’s just so dominant it’s become the norm. During the first few months of motherhood, I constantly questioned why I seemed the only one struggling to accept that my new sole purpose in life was to mother my beautiful boy. It was time to accept that my pre baby life as I knew it was a thing of the past and my new identity was ‘mother’. Gone was the successful woman I had become in my chosen career, gone was the years of work I had put into my self development, all replaced with my new title ‘mother’. To this day I still don’t know why it’s not talked or written about more. I put this down to one of two theories: the social pressure to embrace the unconditional love of mothering is too great to admit failure or, I was the minority and in fact most new mothers didn’t experience the brunt of this force. My question to these mothers would be, are you truly happy, or are you blinded by actually being an integral part in the vicious cycle of social mothering pressure?

This social pressure has the ability to destroy. A common theme emerging throughout social media and mothers’ groups is the suggestion to accept and embrace your ‘post baby body’. Contrary to the many other social pressures as a woman to be ‘thin’ this theory endorses acceptance of postpartum weight gain and detrimental lifestyle choices. ‘Embrace it I carried a child. It’s a free pass to eat Tim Tams at 3am, after all I’m breastfeeding so the calories will be offset. It’s okay to put on huge amounts of weight because I’m a mum now, so life is complete. I’ll just continue to buy bigger clothes, or even better forget about clothes for myself, just buy cute things for my baby instead. I’ll take cakes and the worst treats I can find to morning catch ups, if everyone else eats them I’ll feel heaps better, oh and then I can eat the left overs when I get home. There is no time to exercise, after all I’m a mother now my baby comes first’. Any of this sound familiar? This was me for the first two months of being a new mum. Food was my way of coping with the pressure to accept that my old life was over and my identity was now ‘mother’.

There are so many new mums suffering in this world of lost identity, scared to admit it and using food to cope, but sooner or later this is going to catch up with them, it really will. There will come a time when the self talk turns into ‘surely I’m not nearly 100kg, am I really at risk of having a Heart Attack, Stroke, Diabetes, relationship breakdowns, mental breakdowns’ the list goes on. I mentally thank a few people and myself every day that I will never live like this again. Don’t let the pressure to accept your ‘post baby body’ ruin your chances of seeing your child grow up! It won’t be long and they will understand that you have actually made a choice to look and feel the way that you do. Now, how about the social pressure to set a good example?

So, you decide to pull yourself out of the vicious cycle, good move, don’t go back but prepare for what’s ahead. Attempting to combine your identities is no easy feat but throw in a bit of judgment around using smelly, germ infested gym crèches into the mix and you will feel the full force of guilt we talked about earlier. Are you genuinely concerned that your baby might pick up germs, or is it back to that old excuse that you’re embracing your ‘post baby body’, perhaps lazy?

To the many critics out there who will suggest this approach of maintaining self identity and physical and mental health during motherhood is selfish, ask yourself if the selfless act of ‘letting yourself go’ is that of an admirable role model?