Thursday, May 15, 2008

Be All That You Can Be: Part I of Phase I

Almost one month has passed since the conception of Break Up Boot Camp and I think I am FINALLY moving into Phase I (known in Army Boot Camp as the “Red Phase” or “Patriot Phase”. I am not sure why, but for MY purposes, I am defining it as pledging allegiance to the healing and health of my well-being).

Remember the old army slogan, “Be all that you can be”? Well, Phase I – or Break Up Boot Camp’s “Patriot Phase” - begins, my friends, with just that: Being all I can be. Which means keeping the focus on ME: my feelings, my thoughts, my motives, my behaviors and my actions. It means paying attention to what I want, what I need, what is acceptable to me and what is not. It means being compassionate with myself and respectful to myself.

It means that Inner Drill Sergeant (IDS) is at it daily yelling: “GIVE ME TWENTY!” And though it certainly wouldn’t hurt me to do twenty sit-ups or twenty push-ups (though in all honesty, I’d be lucky to pump out five REAL push-ups), the “twenty” (or “TWENTY!”) refers to twenty things I’m grateful for and/or twenty prayers and/or affirmations. Personally, I think standing in front of a mirror and telling myself that “I am beautiful, talented and worthy of love and abundance” is just as hard (if not harder) as doing five push-ups. But when the IDS yells, I hup-to! *In Army Boot Camp, I’d be shouting at the top of my lungs:“YES, DRILL SERGEANT!”, so I think I’m on the right track here.

Phase I in Army Boot Camp also includes the Gas Chamber: where you spend some time hacking and coughing and, from what I can gather feeling pretty sick. You have to take off your mask twice (I think) and state your name, rank and serial number and while you are doing this you’re supposed to keep your eyes open. I equate this to going through those few horrible moments - sometimes an hour here or there still – in the midst of Break Up Boot Camp where I am thinking about HIM and feeling overwhelmed by the pain and sorrow, and I have to take a big, deep breath and say (sometimes out loud): “I am okay. I am right here in this moment. God will drop me in a better place than he found me. Hold tight. This too shall pass.” Eyes opened.

Rifles are also distributed during this phase in Army Boot Camp. BTW: It’s NEVER called a gun. It’s ALWAYS a rifle. When you receive your rifle, you learn how to hold it, point it, take it apart, clean it, put it back together, and repeat and repeat and repeat, ad nauseum! Same thing in Break Up Boot Camp, but I’m not calling it a rifle. It’s a MESS KIT.

The Mess Kit is an arsenal of armor that is used to “protect and serve”. It contains this Break Up Soldier’s ammo: Inspirational quotes; Books and CD’s that offer spiritual nourishment; CD’s with songs that buoy me up and instill joy; a “to do” list to remind me what to do when I feel scared, sad or when I feel like I am losing my way; a list of friends and phone numbers for those outreach calls that are, oh – sometimes sooo hard to make; and anything else that totally floats my boat and comforts, supports and/or propels me in a positive direction. I know exactly what’s in my Mess Kit. I just have to remember to use it, put it back so I can reach for it whenever I need it - and repeat. And repeat and repeat. Ad nauseum.

This concludes Part I of Break Up Boot Camp’s “Patriot Phase.” I am grateful to be here, as hard as it feels sometimes. I am glad to be out of the “wading” phase and into action!

* I have been told that dedicating work to someone or something other than oneself often allows you to follow through with it more readily, so I am dedicating my adventures through Phase I of Break Up Boot Camp to my friend, Pvt. Danny M. who is in actual Army Boot Camp as I write this, and to the gal in Minny whose husband up and left just recently. I don’t know you – but I am right there with you!

1 comment:

joyce said...

You are an amazingly strong woman and an excellent writer, I might add!!! We can't wait to see you on Thursday and give you hugs of love and support!!!

Joyce