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This was sent to me by a friend and I thought it was really funny… Enjoy!

A WOMAN’S WEEK AT THE GYM

If you read this without laughing out loud, there is something wrong with you This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular workout routine.

Dear Diary,
For my birthday this year, my husband purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me.
Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.
Friends seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.
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MONDAY:
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god– with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!
Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines… I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!
Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
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TUESDAY:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT! It’s a whole new life for me.
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WEDNESDAY:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.
Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members.. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.
My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the stair monster. Why would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other crap too.
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THURSDAY:
Butt hole was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn’t help being a half an hour late– it took me that long to tie my shoes.
He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny witch to find me.
Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine– which I sank.
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FRIDAY:
I hate that jackass Christo more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic, little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.
Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents in the floor, don’t hand me the darn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.
The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn’t it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
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SATURDAY:
Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel..
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SUNDAY:
I’m having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun– like a root canal or ahysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!

We often refer to many of our days as “one of those days.” Days that never seem to end, filled with missed appointments, quick temper remarks, broken dishes, and cars that magically run out of gas. Funny how once we are in the rut of mistake filled paths we seem to attract all havoc into our lives. It isn’t just “forgot the meatloaf in the oven,” but it’s “forgot the meatloaf in the oven, forgot to pay that bill, and dropped my phone in the toilet for the third time.”
I like to refer to these days as automatic door days. It may seem a random identification but I relate it to the feeling I get when I use automatic doors at large retail stores. Most walk towards these doors without second thought, full faith that right before they run into it , some genius technology will part the doors without so much as an “open sesame.” Most days I coincide with the norm, functioning without a second thought toward these doors. Some days however, as I walk towards these doors, I cringe at the small thought that the doors won’t be automatic at all but that they will remain closed as I run full force into the barricading glass. It is only for a small second, right before the doors part open, but it is a whole second that I expect the worst out of a harmless situation. It is the same feeling, the same cringe that I feel when the stop light turns to yellow and I have to make that split second decision to slam on my brakes or lay on the gas, the same cringe that is attached to opening a report card, or checking my bank account when I know I haven’t been keeping track of spending.
It’s funny how our brains are often programmed to expect the worse out of almost every situation. Especially on those days that feel like nothing else could go wrong. Somehow we seem to make sure once we are down, we stay down. Maybe not intentionally, but negativity seems to be somehow subconsciously satisfying. Instead of allowing our mistakes and trials to teach us, we let them lead us. We grant them power and greet their presence instead of scolding their existence. We think them there and let them be our expectations, the same way I assume I will run into an automatic door.
So if our minds are powerful enough to attract constant negativity into our lives, couldn’t they be powerful enough to attract positivity and success? If we re-train our minds to expect the best, wouldn’t our results permit the best? Of course sometimes we get tickets for running red lights or C’s on our report cards, but what if we could allow it to end there? What if we could choose to remain positive? Continually striving to re-correct and re-attempt mistakes into successes?
So maybe next time we face our own personal automatic doors we can make a different choice. Choose for control of our outcome, choose to have success. Choose a safe passage through to the other side. Instead of cringing in expected failure at the automatic door, choose to use the manual door.

The first day of school can be a challenging one for mom’s as well as for the little tykes, I can’t help but feel the importance of taking time to feel the revolutionary shifts that are happening. I took my twelve year old to Jr. High for the first time today and although it is my third time doing this, I am still amazed at the intensity experienced. They were all crowded around their lockers fighting to get some stability and order to what was clearly out of their control. I stood back and just watched (mind you I was the only parent there) and for the most part they were oblivious about my presence. I couldn’t help but wonder what their preparatory mornings had been like, I had hoped they all got a great breakfast, an inspiring devotional and so many hugs/kisses/compliments that they were eager to leave the mush and get into the real world full to the brim of hope and adoration. So many different faces with so many different expression, my mind jerked back to my own experience of Jr. High which was just shy of horrifying. The way I didn’t fit into my own skin let alone in an environment that’s figure was so specific. However, I knew then and I know now that the experience was going to help shape every single being that was forced to endure it. Now as a mom I reflect back on my own experience and have to be careful not to transfer my own failures and successes on that of my child. My second oldest daughter was with me on the way home from the Jr. High madness, she was driving and she began a role play of being my mom and consoled me by telling me I had choices and that I could choose to stay home and be home-schooled if I liked and then she role played that even as a mom I could go get my kids at any time and bring them home, somehow choices always cause me to do the right thing. We were laughing about the role play and teasing but in all reality I was reminded of the power of perspective/choice and self care. It’s important to be able to jump into their perspective and honor their process, It’s important to know I have a choice in everything I do and to share this power with them and before they come home today to talk about all of their adventures I will take time to introspect and honor my own process of being sad/joyful/angry and reverenced at the absolute gift of having made it through Jr. High and the richness of watching my life’s blood walk through life’s growing pains.

I have a beautiful clear, glass, flower vase, I bought it for my husband when we were dating….I gave him a dozen white roses after our first date to let him know I was really, really interested! The vase is like glass shattered into a million pieces and put back together to form the most intricate, yet simplistic design. Looking from far away it seems like it has a flow, a pattern and an absolute purpose, looking close it seems as though one could get lost in the maze of cracks, lost in the way it doesn’t make sense, ruined/flawed…there doesn’t seem to be any rhythm or purpose to the way the cracks run into each other….amazingly it works. How many times do we pay attention to the cracks? The intricacy of the flaws instead of the grandiosity of the overall design? Shatter isn’t lost, only a way to put the pieces back in a systematic, intentional manner the way we want them to be instead of the way they were given us. So many beautiful parts of life, so many ways to make the wrong right, so many ways to say ‘sorry’ and ‘I’m working on it’ and oh so many ways to flow with the masterpieces life creates. I Love the song by Sara Bareilles “King of Anything,” one of my girlfriends hadn’t heard this song and I played it for her, we laughed through every lyrical run as we snuggled in our blankets and reveled in our rebellious attitude to the world, talking about how no one gets to choose for us anymore how we view our life, interpret our mistakes, value personal triumphs, opinons we hold, attitudes and adherence to whatever! In essence we all get to choose the design, how it flows, whether or not it makes sense and exactly what we need to make it purposeful, meaningful, and absolutely gorgeous! Take a step back, look at the overall design and the possibilities the end result may bring if adored, appreciated and valued.

Well I guess it might be some sort of a personal newsflash but I make mistakes, mostly every day and sometimes I make mistakes every minute. I make mistakes internally by the way I talk to myself and sometimes mislead myself, I make mistakes outwardly by misreading people and situations and sometimes I make mistakes in the way I treat other people. When I was a teenager I used to lay in my bed at night and go over all the mistakes I had made throughout the day, the stupid things I had said, the inadequate outfit I chose, the skin blemish, blah blah blah…you know the drill. It has taken me years to develop the skill of not looking at the mistake but looking at the learning. Each time we make a faux pas is an opportunity to learn something important. Critical to the learning is to have a support system that allows you to have an error in judgment and to sit beside you with love and confidance that you will figure it out….these people who offer unconditional regard allow the flexibility it takes to assess change. I have an amazing support system, people who know that overall I am good and well meaning and take the sum of the whole to study the part. Love has the most unbelievable power and sometimes Love is real and sometimes love is fake, we have to find the real stuff and hold on to it like our life depends on it, because it does!

When I was a little girl, I was forced at times to take long, painstaking moments of slumber, probably my mom needed a serious break.  I remember going into my designated ‘bedroom’ for a nap, I hated naps!  We were staying at my grandparents house for some reason and the house seemed amazingly stifling during the evil ‘nap hour’, the house was composed of 3 bedrooms for all of us, my grandparents, my parents and all seven of us little people.  The worst part was that there was one bathroom yuck.  The room where I would sleep held some of my mom’s treasures from her own childhood (proof that treasures are in the eye of the beholder).  In the room she had these creepy little glow in the dark dolls (one of the seasoned dolls had a broken arm which especially weirded me out) that loomed just over my head taunting any peace that came my way.  I used to lay in the bed and think about how much everyone hated me, not exactly sure why just knew that they all did.  It was during this time of being the smallest speck of dirt on the earth that I discovered something beautiful and amazing…..my imagination!  In the back of my grandparents house were a bazillion lady bugs and we loved to watch them, feel them crawl on us and eventually they became the inspiration for my napping universe.  I drew on many adventures from ‘lady bug land’ and met an amazing ruler named Grandfather aquanaut…man could I create some adventures.  My poor little brothers just didn’t have the ability to mind travel like I did, so sometimes I would bring them back lifesaver type candy which always melted in my travels (toothpaste) but I would return with their savory treat (the flouride will probably cause them cancer in older age) and I would dazzle them with my tales.  This discovery has served me well in life, it seems that in dark places comes the ability to cope, imagine, dream and find hope in the most unlikely places.  How long has it been since you imagined your own childhood islands of creative swirls?  Maybe it’s time you take a trip!  Kids are always our greatest teachers, fundamentally they always know exactly what to do to take care of themselves and to find light even in the darkest expansions, moral of the story…there is always light to be found in dark spaces and maybe your childhood insights can direct you to the transporter.

Our brain’s pleasure center is certainly a force to be reckoned with.  Sometimes it seems as though we are sitting in the back seat as our bodies drive us to bad behaviors, behaviors like excessive eating, excessive talking, addiction acting out or even just being angry/moody/cranky.  I have become increasingly aware in my own life as well as in lives of my clients how important it is for us to experience pleasure.  True pleasure is as individual as our own fingerprints and what might be true pleasure for one certainly can be vastly different for another.  Pleasure can vary immensely it can be reading, playing the piano, having sex (in a healthy/committed relationship), sky diving or taking a dip in the pool, really it’s very individual…BUT if the body/soul is void of pleasure it will find various other ways to fill the tank usually resulting in behaviors that lead to our demise and feeling quite empty and upset that we could’t control our compulsions.  So to put it in personal terms I often will head to the dessert isle when what I really need is to have my husband hold me, tell me I am beautiful to him and fill up in his Love, I need to have an hour all to myself reading a captivating book or take a long drive on my motorcyle feeling the wind blow in my hair (my family and friends get mad about this because I don’t wear a helmet but my pleasure center needs free flowing hair).  So I encourage you to take a look at your pleasure centers, what were the most enjoyable things in childhood and what really fills you up now?  Once you know you have to implement these things into your life, regularly, OR the direction may not be yours to control.

Yesterday was one of those days where I came home, seriously, feeling like I had been hit by a Mack Truck!  Some days in therapy are like that and there’s nothing I can do but hold on for the ride as people get hurt, I HATE when people get hurt.  It caused me to think about a recent conversation I had with someone where they were telling me that relationships shouldn’t cause hurt! I was a bit baffled by that as I scrolled through every meaningful relationship I have had and each of them has brought hurt, sort of like the most meaningful workouts cause me to be sore, often for days.  Maturity creates depth and as we go deeper into relationships the risk is greater, the hurt can be greater but the flip side is that the reward can be so much greater as well.  When I see people get hurt in my office I have to continually keep this concept in mind as we peel layers and go deeper and deeper realizing that when we get there the reward is going to be immense.  I honor the process of pain for all of us.  I also honor needing a soft place to rest while healing.  Yesterday therapy wasn’t about me but I am human and when pain is present I feel!!  Thank Heavens for a good nights rest which has a soft space all of its own.  I woke up this morning to a card from my Dad.  The card was one of his homeade paper cards that he had created on the computer, it had pictures of these amazing ice sculptures.  One of the sculptures was of a princess carriage, the card was addressed to princess Cami and it was all about me being a princess.  I turn 40 tomorrow and I still Love being a princess!  This sentiment swept me into a space of softness, of love, of adoration and healed my soul….so today I am ready to go back into the world and surrender to what awaits.  I am ready to keep taking a risk, to keep loving, to keep getting hurt and to keep healing!  Thanks Dad!

My Last Dance

By Cami Covey-Doucet

I have had many dances in life, in fact I think I was probably dancing out of the womb.  Feeling the energy of music, the charge as it pulses through my body is an experience I could never live without; I never seem to feel more alive.  As a little girl dancing meant freedom, no confinement, a bridge to another world of escape.  As a teenager dancing meant expression, it was the first awakening of my sensuality, my complete understanding of whose body I wanted close and whose body I wanted far away and sometimes dancing included rejection.  As an adult dancing was more uncertain and yet sometimes the most certain, different partners, little stability, excitement mixed with hurt. The meshing of body and souls to music evidently is a gluing process and allows two people to learn the rhythm and sync of their own energy as two become one.  I had given up on this energy …….then I found a different kind of charge in dance, I found a soft/lyrical/strong partner who walked right in and bowed in respect and honor.  In the beginning our rhythm was a little off, a bit of a struggle to decide who was leading, what beat was best and when to walk away when frustration took over.  We learned, we healed, we coped, we rocked!  Sometimes we still step on each other’s toes and sometimes I try to take over when it’s not my turn and once in a while I even pretend I am done dancing.  Deep inside I have chosen and I WILL NEVER BE DONE DANCING WITH YOU.  Some day we will be old, our bodies will be weakened/shrunken/slow to move, the world will have gone by and the struggle of life will be near the strike of 12, my eyes will still be green and yours brown and my soul will draw in your soul to hold close and sway into midnight for our last dance.  I will now and forever choose you for my last dance.

It fascinates me to think that organic matter is derived from cells and that each cell holds the blue print for what the ‘whole’ being becomes. Skin sloughs off in a matter of days and creates new skin, an exact replica of the old, even if there is a new scar the new scar becomes part of the cellular structure and duplicates over and over for the entire lifespan. We are a ‘whole’ that depends on the cell! This is brilliant news for us because we can change the whole being by focusing on the cell, how we feed them, how we talk to them, music we listen to during the creation, love we feel as they churn, and other cells we hold close to our bodies….we begin to change ourselves by focusing on the small things. If we want to be different, if we yearn to have change we have to FOCUS, eat, talk, listen, love and hold close the ideal of the very structure YOU want to create, thank you cells, thank you God for the ability to change.