That energy was stuck
And when you asked why
The truth of my need to hide
Made me begin to cry.
That truth left you angry
And with a fierce love in your eyes
You demanded that I remember
That I no longer hide.
That hiding from the world
And hiding from you
Was hiding from me.
E.R.A.
Nothing is really ever truly ending for us, we just transition from one thing to the next. Even death is a transition, regardless of what a person believes we are transitioning to whether it be nothingness, a new life, a new dimension, heaven or hell, etc. Here I am facing several transitions at once. I don’t really mind the transition, but I do mind not knowing what is next. The control I crave is nonexistent and to say that I am outside of my comfort zone feels like an under statement.
Here is what I know: Time is not real, we are all connected and shit gets weird from time to time. Okay now that we’ve have moved past that, let’s breakdown what is happening in my 3 dimensional world that has me feeling a bit overwhelmed-ish. A couple of weeks ago a re-org was announced in my business, it’s clear that it will affect my team, but how it will affect us is not yet clear. We won’t have any updates on that until the end of July. I know what I want that resolution to look like, but I’m not sure how it will play out.
Next up, my lease expires July 5th. I cannot justify renewing my lease until I know more about what is happening with my only source of income at this time. The positive here is actually timing, because with my lease ending, and the outcome of the re-org not yet being clear, should I need to massively relocate for work then I can. Another upside to this, is that I have lived for 11 years in Orlando and I was already considering a move to the Space Coast and commuting in for work. This option isn’t entirely out the window, but it is kind of suspended in mid air.
So being that I don’t have the answers I need/ want yet, I have naturally began packing. It’s funny because my sister and I are moving about a month a part from each other. Her lease expires this month and she has only just begun packing, whereas I have already started. We both joked recently that there are two types of people those who pack at the last moment and those who pack excessively early. I started to examine my need to pack early and it really comes down to a couple of things. One- control. I’m super rigid in my packing and labeling method. Ask my best friends, if you ever have to be apart of my packing process, it’s a real struggle for me. Two- The need to run away. A couple of times a year, more so in fall/winter, I get the pressing urge to run away, so being able to move and start someplace new is welcomed.
If I had to identify anything else as a contributing factor to my need to pack about 6 weeks earlier than my move out date, it would be that I’m in need of distraction from the uncomfortable things I have recently done and the stress of things outside of my control. Packing feels like a semi-productive thing to do in order to not focus on the mess that is my life nor the influx of emotions I’ve been feeling. The most productive thing would be to work on my to do list or allow myself to experience my emotions, yet sometimes I’m afraid that the state of overwhelmingness I feel can absolutely drown me.
Clearly I haven’t been writing very much despite my original intent to do so when starting this blog. At this juncture in time I have more drafts of posts than I do actual posts. My apprehension extends from using my real name on this blog and the vulnerability that comes with it. Long ago, I learned the hard way that people will use your words against you, therefore it’s not uncommon for me to write a post and then just walk away from it. Right now, external forces are, whether intentionally or unintentionally, telling me to live without authenticity and to do things that make me cringe internally even if they aren’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things. The shitty part about that means it’s closing down my voice, which I’ve been working my ass of to establish.
It’s like a dance, but a slightly frustrating one. I’ll of course continue it, because living authentically is important to me, and right now I just need to enjoy learning the steps I suppose. In the mean time I did realize I was thinking of everything in terms of ending or beginning, but that’s nonsense, because regardless of what happens, I’m transitioning. Whether it is from Orlando to the Space Coast, or from my current role to another role, or it is from this employer to a different employer. They are all just transitions.
With love,
E.R.A.
Darling it’s you
You are the magic of life
Pulling me along and under
Pushing me up and over
It’s you my most darling love
The first thought of the day
The last before my slumber
You never stray too far away
Throughout the course of my day
Yes, I yearn to be next to you
But more than that, love
I want to surround you
The way you surround me
Every sweet flower I smell
Every rain drop that washes my skin
Every bird’s song on the wind I hear
Every time I taste the earth
Every flame I see dance
Every dream I have
It’s always you
I want to surround you
The way you surround me
For my most darling love
You are the magic of life
Yesterday
Today
Tomorrow
Forever.
With Love,
E.R.A.
I have been waiting for you
Waiting with bated breath
To see you
In person or in dreams
To hear from you
Electronically or as the voice in my head
I have been waiting for you
I miss you the way I miss me
Why are you silent
What did I do
I’m waiting for you
The thing is
I cannot wait anymore
So much I want to show you
So much I want to share with you
So much I want to learn
So much I want to teach
But
I cannot wait anymore
I am happy in the here and now
I wait no more.
With love,
E.R.A.
At birth – my parents named me Rebecca.
Growing up – many people called me Becki.
In high school – I was known as Bekkah.
At sleep away camp – Just Glo.
In College – Some form of Elizabeth, that was me.
Eventually – Professionally, I was Rebecca.
Today – I named myself Elle.
That my friends, is the simple truth. At birth I was named Rebecca, but family and friends called me Becki. Once I got to high school and learned what “Becky” meant, I went by Bekkah at school and at camp and in youth group, I was known as Glo. My early years in college a new friend insisted I did not look like a Rebecca and instead nick named me Elizabeth. Somehow Elizabeth stuck without me even trying, so most of college I was Liz or Lizzie. In the professional world, I decided to leave the casual world of my nicknames and began going by Rebecca.
I have never really felt like my name was mine. For just over 34 years my first name was Rebecca. My legal name evolved a bit as a child because I was partially adopted. At the time of my adoption in addition to having a new last name, we added in a second middle name. The format of my name was my given name, two middle names that were after family members, and my adoptive surname. The name never felt like it was mine and for most of my adult life I have thought back and forth on legally changing my name.
I wanted to change my full name since I was a teenager, but it wasn’t until the last year or so, I thought heavily about changing my first name to Elizabeth. I looked at the meaning and origin of the name, various spellings of it, the translation to Hebrew and what nicknames I could use. Then about 2 or 3 months ago, I thought to myself to use Elle as a nickname for Elizabeth. Instantly I was in love with the name Elle. Elle is short and to my ear sounds so sweet. Elle is from French and means she.
When I thought Elle, my heart whispered a soft yes and my soul stretched throughout the universe. I read up on the name and that it’s becoming more common now a days, but that older folks may find it silly because Elle is a French pronoun, but I didn’t and don’t care. I am a she and Elle is me.
This has been the process that I have been quietly going through. People tend to share judgement without asking and I was afraid if I spoke of it too often then I would jinx myself and it wouldn’t happen. When I filed my petition to the court just a few weeks ago, I could feel the excitement bubbling over within me. I knew I wanted to change my name, but I wasn’t letting myself feel how badly I wanted it. When I filed my petition, I had no choice but to acknowledge the feelings I had been repressing. Tears of joy pooled in my eyes after I completed my steps for my background check to occur. I shared with only 2 friends where I was at in throughout this process. Only they knew when my final hearing was scheduled. I quietly began changing my name on social media and when people asked me my name, I began responding “Elle.”
My final hearing was today. For the last 13 hours and 36 minutes (but who is counting) I have officially been named Elle. When I exited the courtroom, I had to sit for a minute because I was so overcome with emotion that I quietly shed tears of joy.
Life is comprised of moments, some good, some bad, some in between and a few others exceedingly good or bad. Today was full of those exceedingly good moments. The judge granting my name change; the certified copies with my new name and the court official congratulating me; the outpouring of support from friends, family and colleagues; the people who have known me for years already attempting to refer to me as Elle instead of whatever they used to call me; the family members spreading the word that my name is Elle and just the feeling that my name is actually MY name.
The world didn’t stop spinning today when I changed my name, but my heart did smile and my soul did dance. As for me? I wore heels and lipstick, changed my outgoing greeting on my voicemail, took a celebratory selfie and planned a celebratory dinner with friends.
So, hi, my name is Elle, it’s nice to meet you. 🙂
With Love,
E.R.A. (Elle)
Extending my hand, I reached for you,
“come darling, let’s go dance- naked in the rain.”
Your eyebrow raised while you tried to determine how to respond
No was all you said.
Undeterred and hand still extended
“Darling, come dance naked in the rain, you’ll find so much joy.”
With a look that flattened you claimed you do not want joy.
With my eyes closed and my back on my mat
The tears escaped the corners of my eyes
You do not want joy?…
Do you not want air?
Do you fear joy or fear that you are undeserving?
Is it that you feel undeserving and so to protect yourself you do not desire joy?
So many questions went through my mind
But darling, the one thing that sticks-
If you do not want joy
Then you do not want me.
Not wanting joy, is a tragedy.
With Love,
E.R.A.
GUEST POST: This past weekend, I challenged my best friend, Reena, to go inward and put down her thoughts on self- love. Reena has been in my life for about ten years now and when we first met, we didn’t exactly like each other. Who knew that down right disliking someone would be a blessing? Yet, here we are ten years later and everyday with Reena is a gift from the Universe. When relationships scare me and make me want to run away, change my name, hair color and phone number, Reena is one of my gentle reminders that working past the fear of rejection and dislike is absolutely fucking worth every pain point. This woman is one of the fiercest, most loving and inspiring people in my circle, so I’m truly honored that she rose to this challenge and was willing to share a bit more of herself with the world. This post is her very first blog post.
In Reena’s Words:
Self-love, to me, means to think of your own well-being first and sometimes that means having to put your needs before others. Giving yourself the chance to feel emotions, grow & learn continuously about yourself and maintaining a true happiness and appreciation with just being you.
I have always considered myself to be a genuine human-being and Iʼm typically kind to others. My problem is- Iʼm not always kind to myself. We all have our own trials and tribulations through life that come to define who we are. The kicker is being able to grow and love yourself no matter what life brings. Something that I have learned over the past few years is that loving yourself can be harder than you think sometimes. Life has quite literally broken me, and I find myself having to remind myself to be positive. Iʼve challenged myself to always try to look on the brighter side and see that Iʼm stronger and tougher than I give myself credit for.
So how do you remember to give yourself the love you deserve. Well, for me… I
remember what amazing friends and family I have supporting me. You see… Iʼm
learning that having that self-love is important in deciding how you deal with
lifeʼs problems. Iʼm learning to forgive myself for the things I canʼt control
but wish I could and live with purpose. Iʼm learning to do more of what makes
me happy, even if itʼs sitting in a quiet room to color. Finding peace in the
little things and knowing that Iʼm enough. Life happens, itʼs all about how you
grown from each experience.
Live. Laugh. Love. 💕 ~Reena
Can I be brutally honest here? (I ask this as if every other fucking post isn’t brutally honest. Ha.)
I love being naked. There is nothing I love more then being in the flesh. I like clothes and shoes and jewelry and all that jazz, but completely naked, no clothes, shoes, make up, jewelry, so on, is my favorite thing. Despite my love for nudity, I’ve always been body shy, which is probably hard to believe being that way too many people can recount the times I flashed or mooned them.
One of the things about my body shyness, is that it was fueled by loathing. My body was never perfect enough. Never thin enough, too asymmetrical, not defined enough, etc. How ungrateful this attitude was. My body supported me through years and years of dancing, soccer, rugby, golfing, yoga, running, walking, hula hooping, aerial yoga and silks, etc. How did I repay it? By telling it, it wasn’t good enough, by criticizing it and then by hiding it.
Since I gained weight during the longest depression period of my life, my love for nakedness has been complicated by shame. Yet since I have joined the beautiful OPY community at Power Vinyasa classes, my ego has been so tired, it hasn’t had much to say. This past Sunday, I took my shirt off at the beach. In two different classes this week, I got half way through class and took my shirt off in class. I’m not as fit as most the people in my classes, but the wonderful OPY community is full of people doing yoga for themselves which in turn supports loving energy in the world and do you know what that means? They aren’t there to fucking judge me. And I’m not there to judge me either, so about half way through class the top has came off! It’s glorious.
I won’t say I’m fully in love with my body, but I’m getting much more comfortable with it and just living my best life, while simultaneously working to even better my life.
With love,
E.R.A.
First and foremost, let’s be clear, I am so grateful for this period of self growth. It’s so fucking beautiful. If my heart was able to exit my body and give me a live demonstration of how it is feeling, it would be dancing. Lyrical, in a long flowing skirt with more twists and turns, but also the occasional leap. It would radiate love divinely and infinitely.
But today? I’m so tired. And today, I gave into this tiredness. Instead of yoga, I did yard work. While cooking dinner I left the music off and instead listened to the sizzle of my pans. Instead of reading, I listened to some Youtube videos on soul ascension and also a SNL skit. I wasn’t planning to write, but alas, here I am, writing of a dancing heart.
The past six months are not easy to summarize, but I will try anyway. This has been a massive period of self growth and becoming more self aware. It is both rewarding, but also draining. Six months is a short period of time and the dramatic shift in my life feels like it just started, but has also been eons. I am consumed by both love and fear. Never have I felt more grounded, but also more insane. The past six months can be characterized in one word: contradicting.
I am too tired tonight, to really explore this any further. And tomorrow, tomorrow I do something big. Something huge. Something I’ve wanted to do for 16 years. So wish me well, loved ones. And soon I’ll share more.
With love,
E.R.A.
Last night as I was leaving my power vinyasa yoga class, I noticed a sign that asked that students be mindful of the energy they bring to the class they are attending.
Full disclosure: while I aspire to be someone that brings positive energy to any situation I am in, right now, while struggling through all of the emotional baggage I carry, I am slightly self absorbed. Okay, that is a bit of an understatement. I am consumed with resolving my unresolved. My therapist compares this to a pendulum where for most of my life I wasn’t dealing with anything and I’d put everyone else before me, but now I’m dealing with the unresolved and I can barely think of other people. At some point, I’ll be better adapted to keeping my pendulum in a neutral role, but I’m not there yet. To be clear, I haven’t turned into some monster that fails to consider other people, but if there is something I don’t want to do or a place I don’t want to go, I’m not going. If I want to go to the beach, I’m going to the beach. At this moment in time the most I’m doing that I don’t necessarily want to do is go to work and clean my house.
Last night when I noticed the sign about being mindful of the energy you bring to a class caught my eye, I felt deep gratitude in my heart. It was the gentle reminder that I can and do impact others. I love my yoga practice and I’m so happy to be back at it, but it’s been difficult. The classes I take are hot classes and power classes, therefore, being that I’m not in the best shape and am not as active as I used to be I find myself getting frustrated, which isn’t the energy I really want to be bringing to my mat or the world.
I’ve been using yoga to help find my balance, to listen to my heart and to learn to breathe. This will enable me in the present and going forward to bring positive, peaceful energy into situations that I am a part of and to always come from a place of love, instead of a place of fear. While my mat is my world, my energy radiates to those around me and me being pissy in a class, or anywhere else for that matter, can negatively impact those around me.
So thank you to whoever posted that wonderful reminder to check my energy. I’m grateful to having that message cross my path.
With love,
E.R.A.
Ushering in E.R.A. 