The Power of Honoring the Old Story

Sara's heart

Here is a little piece of my story.

This is an old story. I have a new story now but this old story has a voice and she is sad and hurts and wants to be heard.

“I work a lot. I’m always working, always on. It is stressful and I have a family with two small boys so I’m ridiculously busy. So busy. It is a grateful busy because I feel financially responsible for my family and being busy means that money is coming in. We own our own business and we live on commission and we have a lot of expenses all the time. I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.

I take care of my family, my business and the people that work with and for me. My children need me to give them everything I have. If I don’t give it all then I’ll be shortchanging them. I won’t be doing the best I can if I don’t do it all, if I don’t do it perfectly. I need to know the names of all their friends and be on a first name basis with their teachers. I try and make it to all their events and games. 

You have to work hard to be successful. It isn’t easy. And there is so much to be grateful for that I don’t dare complain.”

I was exhausted. I didn’t take care of myself. I didn’t eat well. I didn’t exercise. By the time I hit my bed at night I was so tired I would instantly fall asleep. But I would wake up at 3am because someone needed me and I wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep. My mind would race. So many ideas to start working on. I would reflect on where I messed up and how I would do it differently next time. I would re write past conversations/emails/contracts, plan for the future and add things to tomorrow’s to-do list while I lay in bed with my racing brain.

To be all that I was, I felt like I had to do it perfectly and excel dramatically. Some people would call it overachieving. That’s fine. I’ll own that. I was an overachiever. Now I’m a recovering overachiever. I catch myself in the old story and I practice trading up for the new story.

The new story is that I don’t have to ‘do’ so much. The Universe is conspiring for me. I have Angels that are watching out for me, a Divine Business Goddess that is making shit happen for me and a Spirited Dream Manager that is putting the right people in my path so I can live my dreams.
I show up and magic happens.
I co-create with Spirit, with the Universe (or God, whatever you call it, if you believe).
I intention and then I watch while the story unfolds.
I release the need to figure it out, to make it happen.
I trust the process.
I trust the not knowing.
I trust and I surrender.
And I live in joy…colorful, dancing joy.

It can be quite fun and magical. But there are days when my shoulder is all knotted up. I breathe and try to wish it away. But it is tight and painful.

This morning I woke up exhausted. My shoulder and neck hurt so bad I felt like crying. I messaged my friend, Haywood, and asked for a favor…I needed healing hands on my shoulder and neck. Magically he had (or kindly made) time for me and at 9am I was in his healing room. He shut the door and asked what was going on and my eyes welled with tears. I lay on the table and he spent an hour on my shoulder and neck.

We talked about why they were there and we dug deeper, not physically into the pain, but emotionally. I acknowledged the old story. That I take so much on and I feel my worth tied up in my accomplishments. He asked me to appreciate that story and the pain in my shoulder. That story had pushed me through so many years and helped me become who I am.

“Be kind and appreciate the message,” he said. I cringed. I didn’t want the pain. I didn’t want the old story; I wanted it gone. I was critical and judgmental of that story.

Those thoughts, my story, sounded so egotistical and righteous and spiritually ignorant.

I don’t want to be that person. But I am that person. I am all the people I’ve ever been. I am all the ages I’ve ever been.

I am the little girl twirling around in my living room.
I am the wicked middle schooler gossiping with my girlfriends.
I am the wild 20 year old dancing at a night club.
I am the young and overwhelmed new mom reading another sleep book.
I am the strong, overachieving business woman in powerhouse mode.
I am the soulful, playful, inspiring warrior.
I am all of these and none of these at the same time.
I am Sara. I am Spirit and Love.

All of me deserves to be loved. I honor that strong woman that worked so hard and gave so much of herself to everyone.

And now I can BE for me. I can be a new me.
I can practice self-care and self-love and I can write a new story. That doesn’t mean that I have to throw that painful old story away. Today I honor the old story as part of my new story. I wouldn’t be here in this amazing new story if I hadn’t lived that old story and felt that pain that moved me to search deeper for a different way.
By the grace of God, here I am.
I am enough. I am perfect just the way I am.
Namafuckinste.

4 thoughts on “The Power of Honoring the Old Story”

  1. Patricia Hoopes says:

    It has taken me far into my years to figure some of this out. We are forever works in progress, but you are giving yourself a great head start. My mantra has become “progress, not perfection.” Here’s to your progress!

  2. Shannon Peebles says:

    This is so gorgeous, darling Sara. Perfectly what I needed to read at just this moment. Thank you!

  3. Kay says:

    Namafuckinste, indeed. I needed to read this today. Thank you for being fully YOU, Sara! <3

  4. Allison Crow says:

    Namafuckingsta All of you Sara…I love all of you.

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