attitude

[at-i-tood, -tyood]

noun

1. manner, disposition, feeling, position, etc., with regard to a person or thing; tendency or orientation, especially of the mind:
a negative attitude; group attitudes.

2. position or posture of the body appropriate to or expressive of an action, emotion, etc.:
a threatening attitude; a relaxed attitude.

3. Aeronautics. the inclination of the three principal axes of an aircraft relative to the wind, to the ground, etc.

4. Ballet. a pose in which the dancer stands on one leg, the other bent behind.

Source: Dictionary.com

 

Attitude.

Attitude is everything. It’s how we choose to show up in this world. It either serves us and those surrounding us or it doesn’t.

It lifts us up or it throws us down.

For many, many a year, my attitude did not serve me well at all, nor those around me. I lived in a constant bubble of negativity. I looked for what was wrong in any given situation, not what was working.

Why me?

Why this?

Life is so unfair.

It’s not my fault.

I’m sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry would have to have been the most common word out of my mouth.

Talk about the cup being half full, half empty, why didn’t I get a cup?

Life was a struggle.

Life was tough.

Sure there were actual life events that were extremely challenging.
Me and my attitude, we made them far worse than they needed to be.

I’m never going to…

The choices were endless.

From purchasing a scratchy, knowing I wouldn’t win any way.

To it raining on a day I wanted it to be sunny.

Of course it would rain today!

And why are there so many dickhead drivers on the road again?

I’m not sure how people managed to be with me and not go insane from the discontent that spewed out of my mouth.

Why?

Why?

Why?

NO.

NO.

NO.

I don’t like that.

I don’t want to do that.

That sounds wrong to me.

That’s too dangerous.

What did I do to deserve such punishment?

My life is always going to be so shit.
That was my mantra.

I saw most of what I did in my life as wrong. Some of it I did blame myself for, like having to have cesarean births, that was my fault, on some level I chose to have my children that way because I was too scared to give birth naturally. I carried that guilt around with me for years.

Let alone the guilt I carried for being unable to breastfeed my babies due to the pre and post natal depression I had.

What a woman is supposed to be designed for in the realm of child rearing – I failed miserably at.

As for my mothering skills. I believed my kids were going to be so screwed up due to the fact they had me as their mother.

Which of course they’re not.

That’s a small sample of the blame I placed on myself.

Which in essence wasn’t much. The rest of the blame, for my fucked up life went onto others. My husband, Andrew, received the full force of that one for years. So much wrong in my life, was his fault.

If not his, I’m sure it would’ve been my parents, for many a reason, if not just for having me. My brothers would’ve been in the mix, as too their partners. Friends, their parents and families, teachers, coaches, doctors, shop assistants, strangers on the street. Oh bloody hell, you look scary, so now I’m going to have to cross the road so I don’t have to feel so threatened by you. That could be due to the clothes you were wearing, the colour of your hair, a limp, anything. Bad people always seemed to surround me.

I most definitely was a screw or two loose.

For me negativity walked hand in hand with fear.

What changed?

How did I go from never to now?

When did my negativity bubble burst?

It certainly didn’t happen over night.

And yes, to follow the quote, it did happen.

I shed my negative armour.

I changed my attitude towards myself and my life.

I began to observe myself, others and situations, rather than judge them.

Going from negative to positive was a huge leap. Not one I was prepared for in one grand jump. I broke it down to chunk size pieces, one bite at a time.

I started with, what if.

What if one day I could love myself.

What if one day I could feel wonderful, alive and vibrant.

What if one day I could respond to life rather than be in constant reaction.

What if one day I could change my attitude to a more positive and happy one.

What if.

What if.

What if.

There were also some doozies in their.

What if I could forgive myself and others.

What if I could trust again.

What if I could have love in my life like I’ve never experienced before.

What if I could be a mother worthy of her child’s love, appreciation and acknowledgement for a job well done.

What if I didn’t have to be sorry anymore.

What if when someone complemented me, I could believe it was genuine and not talk it or myself down.

What if I had an attitude of gratitude rather than one of lack.

So I began.

I would pick myself up if I threw myself down.

What if.

What if.

What if.

Everyday I would stand in the mirror naked, this was at a time when I weighed about 120kg and tell myself “I love you”. Sure there was a minefield of exploitive profanities shouted back at me for a long time, until one day they stopped and I received a smile in return, followed by next time a smile and a warming of my heart. Everyday, I’d wash, rinse and repeat. The moment I said “I love you” and received full love and appreciation back at myself, exactly as I am. That’s the day my world changed.

Everything else became easier. More and more of my negative attitudes fell away and was replaced with gratitude.

Complements would be greeted with a thank you.

Situations would be looked at from what could be gained, not lost.

My what ifs had become my reality.

I may not have a million dollars in my bank account. I am however rich beyond measure. I have a wealth of gratitude in my heart and there’s no going bust now.

As you would’ve already read in my grateful post, I do my best every day to be grateful. Upon waking, my feet literally do touch the floor in thanks, in thanks for everything I be, everything I do, everything I have and everything I’m going to create. Throughout the day, same thing. At night as my feet literally leave the floor as I get back into bed. I give thanks once more. Whether it was a great day or a not so great day.

I didn’t do this all on my own back. I went out and educated myself. I did workshop after workshop, seminar after seminar, read book after book. I still do at times, if it peaks my interest.

Being in my full power, I could take what I liked from these experiences and ditch what I didn’t in moulding myself in who I choose to be, how I choose to show up in this world.

With every step, change happened. I now have an attitude I’m proud of.

That’s not to say I have it all together. With each new day, new stage of my life, recalibration takes place. There may be an “oh fuck” to begin with, such as my body shape changing or the colour of my hair. Whatever it may be that throws me off course for a bit, until I can find my equilibrium once more and roll with the “oh well, it is what it is”. I can either spiral down or I can lift myself up once more.

Including shadow time.

That too is what it is, regardless of the shadow I find myself in. If I resist and go into the negativity of it all, I stay there longer, plus cut a part of myself off. If I embrace that part of me with a positive attitude, love my shadow as much as I do my light, the darkness quickly morphs into light, as I own my complete being.

Then once more, I wash, rinse and repeat.

Do you have an attitude of gratitude?

An attitude to be proud of?

An attitude that gives you riches beyond measure?

An attitude full of your true essence?

A positive outlook on life?

If not, what’s stopping you?

Attitude.

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