Do you have a brain that gets up ahead of you  in the morning.  I do. If my doubt were a person, it would be sitting at the end of my bed in a pink skirt with no underwear, eating bon-bons and smoking Gitanes.(My brain still smokes.)
It sits there speaking to me in a voice like Mercedes McCambridge.

What are you doing getting up so late? I’ve been up for hours. We can’t exercise now.
The philosopher Marie Rainer Rilke said “the mind of doubt follows

mankind around all day never yelling, just whispering”.

I wouldn’t say that that if I were you.
He’s not going to like that.
Have a cookie. That’ll make you feel better.
Oh, I wouldn’t have done that if I were you. Now you’re fat

My Brain of Doubt has body-image problems.

I did the Slim Mints and Weight Watchers and the TOPS, which stands for Take off Pounds Sensibly. TOPS was a strange organization because if you gained weight they put a plastic corral around you and pinned a pig on your shirt. I’m not making this up!

I don’t need to pay for that kind of abuse.
I can get that free at my family reunions.
See in my family all that we talk about is food.
Oh, My God will you look at all that food? I’ve been doing so well. Now is that real ham in the potato salad? Well, just a little taste. Oh gosh, that’s good. Why did I do that? I am blowing up like a balloon.

I can’t stand it.

I want to say to them, Eat it or don’t eat it, but just shut the hell up about it. Because you’re not losing any weight anyway.

I went to a Body Image Counsellor. She said, I should stand naked in front of the mirror and say, I love my body, so I started to take my clothes off, and she said, “No I meant when you go home”.

I say, “Let’s accept the body we have today, because in 20 years this body’s going to look like a “10” compared to the one we’ll have then”.

So what do you do with your doubt.

Well start to notice how repetitive it is

The repetitive nature of doubt is the same every time. The circumstance may change but the messaging doesn’t.

Accept its part of living an authentic life.

Often doubt gets worth when we’re about to leap into the unknown. An unknown that might even be good for us, makes doubt get stronger.

Thank it for sharing and act anyway.

Keep moving. Action makes the doubt die down. Thinking does not. Thinking paralyses. Action changes the thinking. Which changes the emotions.

Start noting what you do right.

This is key. Every morning look at what you did right the day before. Or more important how things worked out. Find 5 things each morning that worked out from the day before. Even if they are small things. this is a practice of finding the positive. If they worked out yesterday chances are the things you’re doubting today will be bit better tomorrow.


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********************************************Part Two**********************************************

Acceptance of Doubt:

When I turned forty, I accepted doubt more. I started to think of Doubt companion of an authentic life.

I accepted my lineage. I am a Kimmett. I came into the world with certain genetic predeposition. I accepted that I have worked through a lot and if I did it before I will do it again.

I accepted that my legs were not going to grow any longer and give me a proper weight to height ratio, and I decided to take care of myself.

I started Yoga. But not just any yoga. Hot Yoga.

“Hot yoga” is like “Extreme Yoga”. Hot yoga is to regular yoga what the Catholic Church is to the Anglican Church. Lots of the bits and pieces are the same, but one has a whole other level of commitment and agony over the other.

None of that misty Tinkle –Tinkle Woohoo-breathing nonsense. No sirree, Bikram!

When I went to my first class the heat was cranked up to a hundred and ten and the room was so hot, I told the instructor “I can’t do this. It’s inhumane”. A benevolent look appeared on her face. She gently clasped her tiny perfect hands together, bowed her head toward me ever so slightly, and said “Namaste”.

Which I think is Sanskrit for, “Screw you”. I’m not sure.

The heat however, was the least of my worries. I had a lot more upsetting things to think about than the Black Hole of Calcutta-style heat treatment.

Like doing those bending-over poses while wearing a sports bra and bicycle shorts in front of a full-length mirror.

In front of a full-length mirror surrounded by all those beautiful, twenty- year-old university students. I love their bodies. I wanted a body like that. Flat where they are supposed to be flat and round where they are supposed to be round. Somehow, over time, mine all exchanged places.

I started to breathe deeply. I meditated. I got a mental image of myself. I was hot. I was a hot yogi warrior.

I felt like a Sizzler at Kelsey’s. We did the Cat Stretch.
And the Downward Dog. And then the Plough.

Twenty women pitching their legs over their heads. This set off a cacophony of sound. Not my fault, really. It was the Kimmett coming out of me.

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