Finally, at the ripe old age of 49, I am coming to see my life as a series of realizations (that being a realization in itself). It used to be that, when I learned something new, I would shame and blame myself for not having already known it. Sometimes, in my inability to “be with that fact,” I’d blame others, too. (I even once blamed my mother for not telling me that Vivien Leigh and Lawrence Olivier were married.  Sorry, Mom.) Luckily for me, and everyone around me, this doesn’t happen as often as it used to.  Now, I know that I can only do “the best I can with the light I have to see by” (thank you Julia Cameron).  Another metaphor that has helped me break this bad habit is that of judging a third grader for not knowing trigonometry.  Not only is that inappropriate, but it’s also pointless (unless of course, you want to hurt the child, which I seriously hope you do not). Clearly, by the third grade, the child hadn’t even had the chance (much less the inclination) to learn trigonometry!

(A little side note here:  Although I am way past third grade, and thus have had the chance, I have never gained the inclination to learn trigonometry.)

Several years ago, as you may know, I came to the realization that divorcing my dear husband would be better for me than staying married to him (and incidentally, it was to be better for him, too, although painful for the both of us).  This did not mean that it had been the wrong thing to marry him in the first place.  In Julia Cameron’s terms, I had “more light to see by” than I had had when we married.

Still, it was a risk I had to take for myself, or else.  Or else what?  No, I wouldn’t be beaten, or yelled at, or even ridiculed. But once I knew in my heart that I needed to leave, staying would have been a kind of death for me.  That was my “or else” – death by self-abandonment. I hope that you can understand what I mean here without my going into more detail, because my divorce isn’t even what this blog post is about!

It’s about the fact that I am taking another risk of the heart; one that feels, while very different, still very big.  And I am about to tell you about it.  And it is really scary to me.  Why?  Because, although it feels very much like the right thing to do in this moment, and because of that I am going to give it my all… it may not always be the right thing for me.  I may decide next year or next month or even tomorrow to change my course on the issue, and I don’t want to be judged for that.  Certainly not by you, although I don’t expect that, but most of all, by me.   So I am “putting it out there,” here, in front of the whole wide world, at least until I have even more light to see by.

OK… drum roll, please…

Starting today, I am on a new food plan.  Again.  Yeah, you could say I’ve been down this road before.  Maybe someday I’ll even share the pictures of all those trips.

For now, though, let me just say that this will cramp my style (and the styles of others).  It will be annoying.  It will bring up unpleasant feelings.  It’ll probably bring up some pleasant ones, too, which for me, can sometimes lead to unpleasant ones.  But I am doing it anyway.  Why?  Because in this moment, my heart tells me it’s the right thing for me to do.  That if I really do want to be Fit and Fab at 50, and have a chance at another 50 or so, I need to do this.  I will do this.  I am doing this.

So here we go.  So far, the light I have to see by is pretty good.  I’ll keep you posted.

Laura Biering has an infectious zeal for coaching people who want to do enlivening work and live inspired lives. She's fired up about the power of taking risks - great and small - and the rewards that come as a result. She's also passionate about (1) creativity and authenticity and their potential to change the world, (2) frolicking with her adorable four-legged children, and (3) retreating with those she loves at her farm in Southeast Georgia, Brinson's Race. Visit her website at True Voices.
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