238.0. 3 mile jog; 7 mile bike ride; 62 minute walk.
Forget fortune tellers and magic 8 balls, sometimes you need a truth teller to provide a little insight about a situation. A truth teller is one of those people who calls a spade a spade and kindly tells a sister to get her act together. Last night during drinks with one of my favorite peeps in the City, a truth teller emerged. I wasn't testifying to the truth this time. Yep, a truth teller started a compassionate convo about some of my uncomfortable uglies. The key takeaways: Stop with the lip service and slap on some lipstick. I had been talking about great plans and ideas for about year, but I had stopped working toward them and had embraced my ugly. We all battle ugly at some point or points during our lives. Truth tellers have a different perspective on ugly. Our ugly is human. It's quirky. It's interesting. It's a small, essential part of us that creates uniquely beautiful lives. It is with that perspective that truth tellers have the courage to challenge us to get over the ugly and to get on with our lives. I started carrying around my ugly like Linus's blanket. Instead of being who I am where I am or seeing a situation with perspective, I dragged around unnecessary reasons for why things weren't working out. Instead of acknowledging a fact and moving forward, I spent the past year twisting, turning, and eventually swaddling myself with insecurities. To be safely swaddled in insecurity is to be immobilized by fear. Swaddling is a great way to prevent movement. Over the past week, I have been slowly moving from swaddle to waddle. Last night, the truth teller grabbed the edge of the blanket and gave a sharp tug. I suggest having slippers close by because unswaddling is close to impossible without getting cold feet. The good news is that you won't die from cold feet, and you'll probably start moving to warm them up. I left last night with tear stained cheeks - the truth hurts - and a gait that was slightly more confident than the post swaddle waddle. This afternoon, I completed two of the three truth teller tasks. After a run to Sephora and a call to the salon, this single thirty something is ready for war. And here I thought that I was only battling the bulge.
Ciao for now.
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