Welcome to 2013, ya’ll! I don’t know about you, but it was a bit of a bumpy ride in our house! Just as I was gearing up to celebrate the end of the world as we know it on December 21st, I contracted the dreaded vomiting bug, which saw me ring in the Age of Aquarius hugging the toilet for 16 straight hours. Nothing like a good ‘ol purge to end a 26,000 year solar cycle!  One more dose of that and all of the weight I put on from grieving my father’s death, Southern style, would have been right back in check again. Which brings me to today’s topic…

I had some very interesting experiences with the mind warp that is weight consciousness, this December. In my never-ending quest to share every intimate detail of my strange and peculiar life, I just had to let you in on this delicious little morsel.

So there I was, my last healing session before the Christmas holidays. In the very same week, I had been to my first gay wedding, buried the 30-year-old son of one of my closest friends, launched a book for a good friend in Dublin (I even had a chapter in it) and given a workshop on vibrational healing. I now found myself sitting in the nursing home with a beautiful woman who had broken her neck eight years ago in a freak accident on a child’s bouncy castle. She called herself a ‘three-a-pelagic’ because she could wave one of her arms slightly. She was a joy to spend time with and her conviction to make a difference with her life, regardless of physical circumstance, moved me to tears. It had been a monumental week for me, to say the least.

When I was just about to leave the nursing home, I asked to use the restroom. I was shown into the large bathing area where the clients were washed and weighed. There it was looking at me. A stream-line, state-of-the-art bathroom scales which I was sure had to be exact because it was in a professional facility. I simply couldn’t help myself. Up I got, and when I didn’t faint on the spot, I never will. I was 2 stone over my normal weight. Two stone! That’s 28 pounds, Americans! I knew I had put on some weight over the summer and after my father’s death in August but 28 pounds???

I felt weak as I said my goodbyes to the beautiful lady confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. I got into the car, waiting for the axle to give way under my tremendous weight gain. For the entire hour-and-a-half drive home, I felt like two-ton Tessie. I had a really good chat with myself about why I had gained so much weight and what I was going to do about it. I justified, rationalised, finally accepting my plight, as I visualised how I would immediately rearrange my sitting room to facilitate my new exercise regime. When I got home, I pulled out the scales that I hadn’t set foot on since before summer holidays,  which was obvious, as I had allowed myself to expand beyond recognition. I vowed to never wear leggings again as I climbed on the scales. What? Could it be? I was now staring at numbers I hadn’t seen since I owned Curves and was working out several times a day. What in the heck was going on? The next day, I was at my friend’s house. I asked about the accuracy of her scales and she assured me that it had been calibrated and was weighing her at precisely the correct weight. I slowly stepped on and now, I was exactly a stone heavier than the night before and a stone lighter than the previous afternoon. That’s when I started to laugh. Not a giggle, but the belly laugh of a fool who had put on, shed, then settled half way between with the weight of an average 43-year-old woman with two kids.

I thought back to the morning a few weeks before, when I had tried to book airline tickets and my laser card wouldn’t go through at the travel agency. They had punched the numbers in over the phone, not swiped the card, and it was declined on three occasions. Now, it never crossed my mind that something could be wrong with their terminal, particularly after she assured me that there wasn’t, so I drove the entire way to work in Dublin, a penniless pauper. Just as I was parking my car, I received a phone call from my bank manager (I had phoned him in a panic two hours earlier). It turned out that someone else from our branch had tried to book tickets with the same travel agency, and for some reason their machine was declining all cards from my bank. It was a glitch in the system. The very same kind of glitch in my own personal system that had allowed me to gain an astronomical amount of weight in the space of 24 hours and to become destitute in a matter of moments  because someone’s credit card machine was on the blink.

Aren’t we funny ‘ol creatures? What had actually changed in my reality in both circumstances, other than my own state of mind? In the midst of one of the most emotionally challenging weeks, with its serious highs, depressing lows and inspirational encounters with amazing individuals, I had allowed my state of mind to change my state of being, and not in the Law of Attraction, Secret, Tony Robbins, Hay House sort of way.

I share this with you as a reminder. First of all, never forget to laugh at your own foolishness, but most of all, never let a series of numbers make you feel less than the divine and fabulous creation that you are. It doesn’t matter if it’s a bank statement or a bathroom scales, your value and worth cannot be so easily measured. Your sense of self will forever come from without until you take control of your thoughts and value yourself from within.  Self-love is priceless. Don’t let silly thoughts or judgements from others ever take that away from you!

Happy 2013, my friends! May the fourth be with you…

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