Tag Archives: fear

Insecurities

We all have them.
One way or another.
But why is it we are allowing ourselves to be victimized by our fears?
We project our fear falling reality onto other people and lash out at people who react to our insecurities, and maybe we do so because we just can’t admit that we know how silly it is.

Insecurities stop us from evolving into our full potential.

For example: I love writing. It’s my first love, my true love, my therapy, my EVERYTHING. But look at my blog: always empty! Don’t you just want to kick me?! (Please don’t though ūüôā ) The archives are, sporadic, for lack of a better word.¬†All I have ever wanted was to be blogger and writer. Isn’t that hilarious? So what exactly is stopping me?

CREATIVE ANXIETY.

It’s¬†something I am just diving into. Why and how could I not have time for my biggest passion? Why and how could I be scared of presenting to the public what my most favorite thing in the World is? BECAUSE I HAVE AN INSECURITY ABOUT IT. But what caused this insecurity? That’s what I’m going to find out.

You’re going to hopefully learn from my experience first hand on what it means to hit a road block, acknowledge the road block, admit out loud what your problem is, and create a plan to change it.

With my clients, we work as a team together through our massage and bodywork sessions to analyze the traumas that are stuck within the body. When people hear “trauma” they automatically assume the worst kind. That’s not always the case.

It’s also not always the case that trauma to the body is always emotional or a big scene like a movie. As a therapist who does help a lot with the release of emotional trauma, I’d like to believe everything can be that simple. But sometimes, the physical trauma comes from a psychological negative thought pattern; sometimes it’s a trauma simply by overusing the muscle with not enough recovery routine added in.

OUR TRAUMAS BECOME OUR ROAD BLOCKS.

But that doesn’t mean we stop the journey. We have to work to get the road block off the road so we can move forward. There is something truly magical about befriending anxiety, facing our fears with uncertainty of what will come next, and stepping into the darkness.

So what is my plan?
I am going to publish one new article every ten days. I am going to write on my cute little desk calendar the title of my article ideas and I’m going to give myself dates to draft, dates to revise, and dates to publish!
You: “But Ashlyn, what if you forget? What if you get lazy?”
I am so glad you asked. I’ve appointed several people my accountibilibuddies to lend me some motivation when mine fails. And yes, I’m working on my Solar Plexus, kay?! ūüėČ

One of my SoulCycle instructors, once said in class, “It doesn’t matter how much you fall off the wagon in life…… as long as you don’t give up, and you get back on.” This quote has¬†penetrated my gut and demands to stick with me through this phase of life. We have so many wagons of life and it’s my personal obsession to look into the psychology around it and find the ‘why’ of it all.

I know I’ve got nothing to truly worry about other than rejection. And neither do you! Rejection sucks, but what’s the worst that comes from it? We try to force ourselves to appeal to people who don’t dig our style? One of the most important things I’ve learned from working in clubs during my younger years is that there is ALWAYS someone that is appealing to a specific group.

I’m going to stop breaking my back to try and appeal to people who don’t give a damn. And you should, too! If you’re going out of your way to change your ways in order to gain appreciation, admiration, or adoration from someone(s) and they’re repeatedly not into it – fuck ’em! Remember how super kickass you are and realize they’re rejection is a blessing – because it’s pointing you in the direction of your correct path for THIS lifetime.

Never. Stop. Moving. Forward.

If y’all give up because you get embarrassed or sad that people don’t like your talent, then you’re giving mortal, unconnected beings the power to make you feel inferior and you’re also spitting in the face of the Divine Creator who gave you this gift in the first place, and you know what makes you look like a real asshole?
Outwardly hating the gift you got that was so thoughtfully placed for you, just because your “friends” don’t respect what you’re trying to do in life.

Decide for yourself, what it is you’re trying to bring into the World. And then take a look within and find out what your attached insecurities are about it and express them to yourself. If you feel comfortable expressing it to other people, pick your crowd wisely if you want to, or come here and discuss it in the comments section! If you have an insecurity you really want to overcome, follow these steps:

  1. Acknowledge your Insecurity.
  2. Determine your road block(s)
    2A. Create a plan to overcome that blockage.
  3. Make a positive plan of action to work through that insecurity
    3A. Find therapy (i.e. workout, mediation, long walks, talking to an angel, talking to your dog, writing letters to your subconscious/enemies/parents/person who shattered your heart, psychologist – in person or through Talkspace, or vent!)
  4. Dub someone(s) your accountibilibuddy. Ask them to keep you from falling off the wagon. Pick someone you trust and most importantly, someone who really gives a shit about what you’re trying to accomplish in Life.
  5. Give yourself time. Change doesn’t happen overnight, but just fake it til you make it. Take baby steps towards your new you. Be easy on yourself for God’s sake.
  6. AND START RE-TRAINING YOUR BRAIN TO NOT BE SUCH A JERK! Seriously. Train yourself to STOP talking down on your own being! Stop playing out these awful scenarios. When your brain starts to go to those dark places, just tell it to stop and then repeat a positive mantra over and over again. Train your brain to utilize “down time” to repeat mantra’s that help you manifest that kickass life.

Don’t ever stop believing in yourself, and I won’t either okay?

 

Love Always,

Zynnia.

What It Means to Love Thy Body.

I moved to New York February 3rd. My plane landed in the afternoon and my sweet sweet boyfriend, Danny, had me picked up by a driver and I met him at his work by the time he was off. I hadn’t seen him since January 2nd and I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest at the first sight of him. Could it be?! Danny in person! Not Face-time, not Skype. Person. Real life. When you date long distance, the feeling you get of seeing your significant other in real life is so surreal, you have to literally question yourself if you are dreaming or not. My World was spinning in all the best ways that day.

We hugged for what seemed like, ever. We kissed passionately. And we drove home and talked and he let me gawk at the views out the windows. To him, it was already “the norm” and to me, it was no Wasatch Mountain Range of Utah, but nonetheless, trees EVERYWHERE from the location the highways running through the woods. Snow capped land with enough snow to pack inside the Big Cottonwood Canyon and shred down fresh powder for weeks.

It never occurred to me then that my insides were in the middle of turmoil.

We stopped at Trader Joe’s on our way home and loaded up on groceries. That cutie pie had stocked our pantry previously with all the foods I loved so much to my surprise. He would be leaving in two days and seeing as how I wasn’t yet employed, the only money I had was what was already in my account and he didn’t want me to worry about not having money to buy food while he was in Manchester, UK for work for the ten day pre-season trip.

We went home by the evening and unpacked my luggage and he was giving me a tour of the apartment. Our cute one bedroom, hardwood floor apartment with checkered bathroom and a bedroom with broken ventilation. To me, I thought “this is romance.” The story of lovebirds living in New York in a shitty first apartment with a living room that has no electricity and no heat in the bedroom. The lights and heat worked everywhere else and I imagined us going through this year lease together learning how to fix up the apartment ourselves. New York is expensive to rent in and for the price you pay, it’s surprising how much you get. Like the small shelled bugs that periodically are caught roaming in our house. But it’s¬†our¬†home and that’s what makes it special. It’s our first place together and it’s the place that will upset us and let us down when something breaks and it will be up to us to not let it get the best of us because it’s our first place together and it will be the place that tests our teamwork. Because we are a team. Working hand in hand.

I love the apartment no matter what it’s like. I love the person I see standing across from me in the kitchen dipping his Chewy Chips Ahoy into a glass of Organic Whole Milk. I love that the next evening I get to drive to JFK airport and pick up my most beloved dog and together we will be the Campbell-Laroche household. I love the bitter cold weather of the snow and the way it freezes my fingertips and toes and makes me feel as if my nose will be frost bitten with each deep inhale. I love our tiny town that is one mile long and supplied with just about everything I need a town to have. I love the accent of our Albanian neighbors and the smell of Mary’s Greek food that she cooks everyday. I love that we are the only two apartments in this building above shops and I absolutely love the narrow winding roads that go in and out of the woods along the Connecticut/New York State Lines.

Love, love, love, is what I’m getting at here.
I am telling you everything I love about everything but the most important thing connected to me. And me being my soul. Because I am a soul. My body is my vessel. My body is not me. It is my armor. I never mentioned anything about loving it.

Danny and I finish dinner. We go and lay down in the bed and he puts on a movie. I am curled up awkwardly and thirty minutes go by and suddenly…. I can’t breathe.
With every fiber of my being I CANNOT BREATHE. I began to panic and Danny’s eyes open up wide in terror as he begs me, “Ash what’s wrong??? What’s happening??” I’m gripping my lower abdomen and crying my eyes out telling him I have no idea what’s going on. I can’t stand up straight. It feels like knives and needles are stabbing me and gutting open my insides. Talons are wrenching open every muscle fiber and every connective tissue that is supposed to protect my insides. My uterus is cramping so hard; I have never felt this pain before. I am inexperienced with menstrual cramps because I can count on less than one full hand the amount of times I have had menstrual cramps. And when I¬†have¬†experienced menstrual cramps, all it took was a banana and a 30 minute nap on my stomach to relieve the irritation of the unnecessary process of my monthly due. This was an omen. This was something so foreign and unnatural, I felt like I was releasing something evil through the work of Exorcism that Jayme and I had preformed on people. Their violent screams and gritting teeth. I was feeling this pain.

Danny told me he was taking me to the hospital and I immediately objected. I figured, “Whatever this is, I will sleep this off. Please just get me a hot towel and help me lie down on my back.” He got me what I asked for and told me that I can’t use a home remedy for something that I have never experienced before. Given, that I beg to differ, as I study natural medicine and home remedies for everything, I knew he was right. I had¬†NO¬†idea what was happening and my body was sweating profusely, my adrenaline was pumping. I couldn’t be still long enough to listen to my body. Danny set the timer on his phone for five minutes and I compromised with him that at the end of five minutes, if my pain wasn’t lessened, he was taking me to the Emergency Room.

All I could think about was trying to get my breath slower so I wouldn’t have to go to the hospital on my first night moving to New York. I didn’t know what to think. I knew I would refuse medicine if they tried to give it to me. I didn’t want any drugs in my body and I certainly didn’t want to spend the night in the hospital. And my mom. Last thing I needed was to have my mom stressing out that her youngest daughter, who is prone to developing the most odd of injuries always coming out of thin air that are rare and damaging, be in a hospital in New York her first night moving to New York.

Five minutes was up.

I tried my best to smile and tell Danny my pain was better. He told me to get off the bed. I rolled my eyes and reluctantly started to move. It didn’t take but a couple of seconds before I was clenching my jaw so tight to keep from screaming in pain. Emergency Room is was. I gave in the towel and grabbed my insurance card and he hauled me to the car and we drove to the Northern Westchester Hospital Emergency Room.

A nurse awakened me in the waiting room and walked me back to the room. It was no dream….. I was really there. Danny looked sad from not being able to know what to do to help my pain. I looked at him with sad eyes, feeling like a burden¬†because¬†of my pain. I was wheeled off to another wing of the hospital to get scanned; finding out the omen was a ruptured cyst.

A ruptured cyst.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Or my eyes, when I looked at the ultrasound images in the small dark room, with a very comforting and friendly nurse who I could tell was probably a phenomenal and adorable grandmother to some kids out there in the World. She explained to me that the black blob was free floating fluid outside of my uterus. It would take a few days, maybe a week, for it to exit my body entirely. She was unable to give me a gauge of what my pain would be like, if any.

I just sat..stunned. Flashbacks of horrific memories began flooding my mind and in my heart of hearts, I knew how I had developed this cyst. Given the duration of time, it only makes sense that it would have to burst at some point in time. It made sense to me how it developed. And I couldn’t help but shake my head in deep, deep sorrow as I cursed myself for not realizing what the pain all those months and almost a year before was. For never getting it checked out. I assumed it was one thing entirely natural and instead, it was indeed, the cyst itself, forming and gathering particles until it ceased to grow anymore until there was no other way out other than explosion.

I accepted the news.
They discharged me and told me I could buy Motrin for pain if I felt like I needed it. Otherwise, I should take it easy and avoid vigorous workouts.

When Danny left for Manchester the morning of the 5th, I cried and cried and cried.
I went to the bathroom and held my stomach and looked in the mirror.

And that’s when I realized…..

I had forgotten to truly love my body.

I had spent so much time, for YEARS, including that day, gawking at everyone and everything around me and above me. I expressed love for people, places, and things. I expressed love to myself but never, not once, did I take the consideration to express love; real love; to my vessel. My mortal packaging of bones, tissues, veins, muscles, and organs. My beating heart that worked hard day in and day out to provide the clean blood to pump through my body and feed every square millimeter of my body.

I held my abdomen as I looked into my eyes in the mirror and cried and told my body “I am so sorry for the pain I have caused you over the years. For the impurities I have allowed to soak you down in and the beatings I allowed you to take. Please forgive me for the times I have starved you from real nutrients and water, drying you out. Of course you would begin to give up on me! I don’t blame you. My sweet body…. I love you so much. My beautiful vessel that carries me with these mortal feet, wherever I want to go; every single day of my life. My hands that write and type until my beautiful eyes beg me to shut. They never fight me. You allow me to overwork you and underfeed you and push you to your limits everyday without the amount of rest you deserve. You have sacrificed so much of your energy for me so I can selfishly live how I want to live and I think because you are my body and my mind tells me it’s okay that it is okay. I am so sorry vessel. I am so sorry for the torturous things I have put you through and I beg of your forgiveness. I express all my gratitude to you now and forever. I express my love to you endlessly, for without you, I would not be this being.” I began to specifically touch each individual organ and tell it how much I love it and thanked it specifically for the unique work it does for my body to retain power and strength, giving me another moment inside my own handpicked body. I began to revel in my love for my body and began to have conversations with my body I had never thought to have before. My body began to tell me things it has held onto for so many years. We talked, we laughed, we cried together; my body and I.

And together, we let go.

I promised to myself and my body from that moment forward, I would always remember to give my love and gratitude back to it. I promised to always take care of it. I promised to always listen deeply to it and never take for granted what it has to tell me. I promised to trust my body with its communication.

Just like our friendships, work relationships, romantic partnerships, and family ties that require love and attention and effort. Our body and our souls are tied together in their very own relationship. One that we too often take for granted.

We are not our bodies.

And when we die, our bodies are not ours to keep. Our bodies do not follow us wherever we go because our soul is timeless. Our soul is not kept inside our body because our body is a costume that merely contains our soul which is in fact our life form. Our body is there for us immortal souls to operate and function in a mortal World.

Among every relationship you have in your life; don’t forget the relationship you have with your body. Take the time to touch it, talk to it, listen to it. It is what carries you. It is what saves you. It is your protection. Your very resource for movement alone. And without it, you are imprisoned in a case that will only release you when it finally gives up. So, I say again with as much encouragement as I can muster………..

Love the World around you. Love the ups and downs that come your way. Love the people, places, and things that come in and out of your life. Share your stories and memories and make things happen.

And most importantly, LOVE THY BODY.
The very unique, exquisite, and beautiful threshold that you reside in.
Your ultimate home.

Love it with your full soul and heart and it will love you back. And together, may you both live in this Mortal life, happy, healthy, and prosperous.

 
Amen.

Rebirth

I have been having a big problem with writer’s block for the past while, especially when it comes to putting material up here on planetzynnia.com.

A lot of the times, when I am out and about in the city or on my bike or just lounging around the house, I think of articles to write, ideas flourishing in my head! I would tell myself, “I’m goin to remember this and jump on the computer when I get home and write this down!” And then I got home and…..¬†nothing.

Sometimes, by the time I even got home, I couldn’t remember anything I had thought of that day. I can’t even begin to imagine all the ideas, stories, and words I have wanted to spill out on here – only to be disappointed by my own self.

After all, we are our own best sabotage.

Sometimes, I just allow my lazy tendencies to get in the way.
Sometimes, I worry more about the material on my website. I think to myself constantly, “Can I put that on my site? Can I expand on the topic enough to make an interesting read? If I swear, will I want to look forward to hearing it ruthlessly from my family because of it? Can I do this? Should I do that? What? Why? How?”

Question, question, question, question, question, question, question, question!
And no god damn answers!

I was driving home this past Saturday night from a two-day trip to Grand Junction, Colorado. I’ve come to not mind the four hour drive so much, because it’s a great time to mull over the thoughts spinning around in my head. I can shamelessly talk aloud to myself and give myself the time and patience to make sense of it all. One of the topics I had talked my own ear off about, is this topic today: the content here on planetzynnia.com.

I had to ask myself why I started the website in the first place. And this is what I came up with:

 

For the past nine years, I have faithfully kept a detailed journal of my life. Everyday, I would take time to write in my books. At any given point, someone could find me pulling it out of my bag, regardless of where I was – if I had to write, I had to write. Location was never a top concern. The older I got, the more friends and strangers started to notice. “Ashlyn and her diary..” people would say. “What do you write in there all the time?” people would ask.
Periodically, I would let trusted friends flip through my old diaries and allow them to really get a taste of my head. Why I think the way I think. That’s when I got the idea to write a memoir. And then I opened up my first livejournal account. And then, I expressed the idea of my own website to my former boyfriend who surprised me with the birth of this website back in 2011. I truly owe this all to him.

For the first while, getting subscribers weren’t my main concern. I never truly thought anyone would even find my website; let alone read my blogs. It continues to touch me and warm my heart with every recognition I get from the comments (the ones that don’t generate a thousand spam comments that is)

This website is still a baby in essence. Which means, I still have the choice to decide what type of website this is. Do I want it to be based on one category? A self-development blog? Animal blog? Massage Therapy blog? Beauty blog? Stories? – This “blog type” was half the battle!

It wasn’t until my drive home this past Saturday night, I realized, I am one of a kind. My thoughts are unique, my person is original, my life experiences are truly diverse and interesting all in their own. When you go onto Planetzynnia.com, you never really know what you’ll read that day and that’s the beauty behind it. It’s what sets me apart from others, it’s what wakes me up in the morning and feeds my passion. Being different and being unafraid is what I want to show the World.

I want to demolish stereotypical expectations. I want to bring people together through words, pictures, and a good story. I want to encourage those who can relate to the trials I have been through. I want to give the faith back to people who may be questioning their path or life-long desires. That’s who I am.

I am an Earth Peacemaker. I am a Fire Wizard. I am a Water Philosopher.

I am Ashlyn Zynnia Campbell.

And this is the re-birth, of Planetzynnia,com.

 

Welcome friends.

photo credit: Dylan Guest Art