personaldevelopement – Brooke Lyn Landon

Making Peace With My Enemy

I’m making peace with my enemy. I’m not talking about my friends on again off again boyfriend who I loathe more than pretty much any other human I’ve ever met. Although, bless his fucked up heart, I wish him the best. The enemy I’m learning to make peace with is the one that keeps me from having peace of mind. The one that keeps me up at night. The one that prevents me from consistently living the life I know I’m capable of. A life of unwavering acceptance and flow. I’m learning to make peace with myself.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I know I’m freakin’ fabulous. This is not to say I’m not good enough, or deserving or blah blah blah. Yet, there’s a little voice in my head that sometimes whispers “Hey hoe. You should probably start worrying about how you don’t know what country you’ll be living in in 6 months time and what are you going to do with all of your shit? P.S. that dude that you’ve been crushing on these past several months… He’s not that into you. While you think about that, I’ll be creating more content so you can stay up with me for the next 5 hours. Tootaloo!”

Not the ideal companion to have living inside my brain, but it’s what I’ve got, and the only way to make peace with it is to become greater than my mind. I’m going to be so annoyingly conscious, that whenever that voice in my head starts to bitch, I can be like “Yo Karen, the manager (aka me) couldn’t give less fucks, so just relax.” Then, without judgement or criticism (to the best of my ability) move forward.

I said that the enemy that I’m making peace with is myself, but my mind isn’t who I am, it’s who I’ve created. So, I need to make peace with myself for having created that, and focus on being greater than my mind so that I can start consciously creating a new and improved internal dialogue. That dialogue is, and will forever be, more influential than anything or anyone else ever will be.

Our thoughts become your personality, and I’d be lying if my fabulousness didn’t come with a side of stress and anxiety these days. This is a never ending journey, but if you don’t start walking down this path of consciousness and personal development, you’ll likely be stuck with a Karen in your head and Xanax on your bedside table.

Some, if not most people don’t even realize that they’ve created this toxic internal dialogue, and identify with it so much that it becomes them. Freeing ourselves and making peace with that part of us is not an easy road, but if you keep going, it will be the most rewarding path you could take.

What 2019 Has Made Me

As a blogger, how could I pass up the opportunity to do some basic bitch 2019 recap/ new year shit. So, let’s get into it, and forget about the fact that technically there should be at least three sentences per paragraph.

This past year I shed my fair share of tears. I was sick and hospitalized in a developing country alone, and to top it all off, I broke my phone and lost my debit card that same week. (Click this links that follow to read my blogs about what I learned from getting a virus in a developing country etc.) I also went on the bus ride from hell, nearly died, and I’ve relapsed. I had times where I felt insecure, anxious af, and uncertain, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Link: I’m about to have a midlife crisis

Last year I left everyone and everything I knew behind and went to backpack the world with no plans or idea of what would come. That was just the start of discovering who I’ve become since solo traveling the world. I thought differently on how I feel about my body since traveling too, and now I’ll stop with the links, but had to throw that last one in there because it was one of my most popular blog posts in 2019.

In 2019 I surrendered and let the world take me through this journey called life, and proved that I have what it takes to do whatever I want with it. With that came some of the most incredible friendships and connections, countless memories that will last a lifetime, and the best year of my fucking life. From leaps of faith, to trusting myself, listening to my gut, and giving less shits, how the fuck would life not take me to and through magical places and experiences?

No matter what 2020 brings, It’ll be even better than my best year ever because I refuse to be the victim. I refuse to go through hardships without coming out the other end a better person than I was before. 2019 has made me a more powerful creator of my life, and I’ll accept nothing less in 2020. I’m not going to stop being my badass self, so best believe it will only go up from here.

I hope 2020 gives you opportunities to take big risk, and you have the cojones to do it. I hope you have emotional experiences that cause you to reflect and become wiser and stronger. I hope that you see your power and start to harness it more than you ever have. Embrace discomfort. Befriend fear and introduce it to trust. Step into your power and go have your best year yet.

I Am Not On My A Game But Here I Am

Usually, I have a few ideas of what I could write about that would excite me and give value to my readers. Right now is not usually. Right now, I’m jet lagged. Right now I’m tired, hungry, and against my fathers wise words, I still haven’t taken a nap. Yet, I refuse to believe that just because I’m not feeling like the offspring of Robin Williams and Elizabeth Gilbert, I can’t produce something worth putting out into the world.

I was so close to not even trying to write because I’m not on my A Game. I don’t even feel I have any game right now. If the hottest dude in the world came up to me and asked me out, I would have the response of the dude from “The 40 Year Old Virgin” meets Sleepy, Snow White’s dwarf.

I still have fear that this won’t resonate with everyone even though I know damn well I can’t please them all. There is still worry that this post will seem too short. I don’t like admitting that I’m not in the creative flow.

However, here I am, proving to myself that those thoughts in my head telling me I couldn’t do something now worth sharing is only true if I give it power. Here I am still tired as fuck but feeling like a bad ass boss babe for acknowledging my limiting thoughts and pushing through. Here I am, hoping that next time you try to brush something off that you deep down know is best for you to do, you remember this, and you choose not to give your limiting thoughts power.

It’s times like these that you enhance your ability to push through more easily in the future. Of course you won’t try to power through every time you feel like a zombie from The Walking Dead, and that’s fine. As long as you’re not jeopardizing your well being, and aware enough of those limiting thoughts to take action, that you’ll get that much closer to being on your A Game.

Six Days of Silence: Journal Entries From My Silent Meditation Retreat

A06FE6BC-3B5F-4617-B8AA-051C0B97DDFF 7/28/19

What does someone want to get from attending a silent meditation retreat at a monastery in Northern Thailand? It varies. Some may simply want to find stillness and peace, and others go with the intention to find themselves. Who knows, maybe the dude with a giant man bun made of dreads infront of me wants to levitate back home in a state of enlightenment.
I’m doing this to put myself out of my comfort zone because that’s where change happens. I go to grow. I don’t want to have expectations or a desired outcome. I want to see what the experience will bring me. Granted, if I were to have chosen a desired outcome, I probably would have wanted to leave turning water into wine, so I’d just be setting myself up for disappointment.
The highlight of my first day at the monastery was opening my eyes after a lying down meditation practice, only to realize I had fallen asleep. By that point, everyone else was sitting up, listening attentively to a monk sitting on the stage infront of a giant golden buddah statue. I made eye contact with a woman next to me who was clearly amused by my state of shock. I couldn’t blame her. I was too. Still, I internally judged her for not waking me up.
Now it’s day two. Considering the fact I talk like an auctioneer and eat like an elephant, the whole shutting up and fasting thing is going much better than expected. Almost too good. Maybe I’ll start to go insane tomorrow. That’s what most people had been telling me would happen at some point. That said, every experience is unique, and only time will tell. Highlight of day two was appreciating the beauty during a walking meditation practice.
*3 hours later* I was upgraded to a single dorm suit. Is it too materialistic and un-zen of me for that to be the new highlight of my day?
7/31/19

It’s certainly not getting easier, but I’m up for the challenge. At least I’m not looking like the young man sitting to my left. I haven’t seen someone fidget around so much since I was at the LIB music festival, but they were happy and on drugs.
Breakdown of my unconscious thoughts today goes as followed.
86% unnecessary worry and overthinking (Like I think the fact that I didn’t buy a souvenir in Sweden isn’t going to kill me, but the heart palpitations I get thinking about it during my meditation practice say otherwise)
12% comparing and judging myself (There’s no doubt all this pad thai has been taking a toll though)
2% other (probably food related)
Fun stuff.

8/2/19

As my time at the Wat Pa Tam Wua Forest Monastery comes to an end, I think it’s safe to say I won’t be walking out of here turning water into wine. Instead I’ll be walking away with something even greater. Mindfulness and a deeper sense of self. WAIT ! Before you internally roll your eyes and think “Dis generic ass bitch serious right now? I could have guessed that.” Understand that I’m not spitting those words out to sound like every basic bitch that travels Asia and floods her instagram with her adventures (Yes, I do that too, so no judgement there. @mindartists)
It’s not the awareness like “I’m aware Im eating right now.” Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to not mindlessly shovel food in your face like the day before you decide to start a diet. The mindfulness I speak of goes deeper.
It’s like getting a free Disney Fastpass to avoid the lines full of ungrateful grimy children and foreigners who have no sense of awareness or boundaries. You pass them instead of resentfully standing behind wondering what happened to your own morals and patience. You detach yourself from what you once identified so closely with, giving you a sense of liberation and peace. There’s certainly more on this topic, so stay tuned for a future blog post. For now, I’m signing out.

Best wishes always,
Your slightly more enlightened friend,
Brooke Lyn

From Misery to Marvelous

June 7th, 2018

“That’s why I’ve concluded that between now and mid November, your togetherness can and should reach peak expression,” reads the words written below my horoscope in The Independent. Well, thank the freakin’ Lord because I feel as together as Britany Spears during her bald-head phase. My therapist tells me it’s time for more inner child work, and I agree. Problem is, that child inside of me is apparently a professional long distance runner because it seems like the chance to do the inner work tends to run away.

October 10th, 2018

So much for that stupid piece of paper in The Independent. If this is full expression, I want to go back to half expression, or no expression at all. I’m such a rollercoaster. I have the enthusiasm of an audience member on Oprah during the 12 days of Christmas giveaway. The next week, the dopamine in my brain is a mix of Eeyore from Winnie the Poo and Scrooge.

June 15th, 2019

The Independent may be full of shit, but at least I don’t feel like shit. In fact, over the past several months, life has been marvelous and keeps getting better. Though sometimes I look at the ebbs in life as unfortunate, it’s a beautiful phenomenon. The ever constant ebb and flow is the rhythm of the cosmos. It is the way we evolve into more. We perceive it as a rollercoaster because it’s one hell of a ride, but we don’t have to look at it as horrific. Our seatbelts are always on, and we’ll always be okay even when we scream or feel like puking. Eventually, we will enjoy the views and thrills of it all.

Hippies and Hyperventilating

goashape-61244 (For the beginning of the story, check out my previous blog post!)

Having had only a few months to help my mother with the estate sale, fill up the storage unit, and pack up my apartment, planning my life out once I got to California was like trying to button up my summer shorts in the dead of winter. It wasn’t going to happen. The best I could do was buy a ticket to a festival where I could camp out, in the hopes that the universe would orchestrate the perfect encounter to guide me to the place I was suppose to be. However, what was orchestrated there was no symphony, it was more like a catastrophe.

If Coachella and Burning Man had a baby, it would be the festival I went to. I found myself surrounded by people dressed up like they were about to go trick or treating, with pupils the size of gum balls. Every time I would meet someone, I would wonder if they were the one who would help me get out of this mess some way or somehow. I would check out a good looking guy in the hopes that he’d be my knight in shining armor, or knight dressed like Tarzan on acid. It didn’t take me long to start completely losing it and questioning my choices.

Terrified of my own state of mind, consumed by my thoughts of food, fear of relapsing, and desperation to figure life out, I chose to not experiment with anything that might enhance my state of being. Sober, I meandered around the wide dirt paths alongside the extravagant and colorful tents and booths, full of psychedelic t-shirts, onesies, and leather outfits. I started to cry as I walked across a wooden bridge that brought me to more tents with people laughing and enjoying their lives. A part of me resented them for rubbing salt in my large opened wound, and resented myself for not being like them.

As the sun set, I stared out onto the horizon and felt like I was looking at a real life version of the sunset from The Lion King minus the hundreds of tents. I turned around and saw half naked people drinking and doing drugs, so they could continue their momentum into the night. Having been a sober mess the past few days, I figured I’d join the party and have a beer or two. Nothing crazy, but just enough to give me a buzz and take the edge off. It still doesn’t seem like a horrible idea, so long as something horrible didn’t happen as a result.

Dancing like I had Spanish in my blood, or so I thought, I began to enjoy my time and buzz. Shortly after, I started not to feel so well from the alcohol, and decided to step away for some fresh air. As I made my way around the bend towards my campsite, I began to worry far worse than my mother does trying to make thanksgiving dinner. I felt so sick that I could tell I was about to throw up, but my ego assured me that everything would be okay if I did. Deep down, I knew this could easily be a floodgate for my old addictive behaviors to resurface.

I came out from behind the bushes, relieved that I physically felt a million times better, but that was the only thing I was relieved about. The flood gate was officially open, and my thoughts after that consisted of “uh oh uh oh uh oh” and “There, there, it’s okay. Eat this and you’ll feel better.” … to be continued

Jump and the Net Will Appear… Or Not.

You know that saying, “Jump and the net will appear.” Well, I did, but there was no net, and I hit the pavement. Thankfully, I took the leap thinking the net would catch me because if I knew I was about to eat shit, I probably wouldn’t have made the jump that has been transforming my life.

It all started with a phone call. Walking down the cobblestone streets in the West Village, I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket of my black Lululemon leggings. I was relieved to see it wasn’t my friend calling to tell me about her new love, knowing she would be calling me the following week crying like she was just arrested for public intoxication saying “You were right”. I swiped the screen displaying “Mom” to my iphone to answer the call, not knowing at the time, that phone call would change the course of my life. The words that came out of my mouth after my mom spoke still baffle me.

“Why don’t you move into my apartment, and I go to California and I figure it out?” I pulled the phone a few inches away from my face and stared at it with furrowed brows as if to say “He said what to you!? What’s his address and social?”. I had no intentions on going anywhere, as I liked living in NYC, but the moment I said that to my mother, there was a gut intuitive “Yes!” in the pit of my stomach, as I felt the hair on my arms stand up, and the chills rush through my body from head to toe.

She had just called to tell me someone had knocked on her door with a great offer on her house, wanting to move in within the next few months. Though she felt like this was the universe giving her what she wanted, within our time living there, we had turned the basement into an antique warehouse, the garage into a storage unit, and my old bedroom had turned into a giant cluster fuck of clothes, toys, trinkets, and god knows what from my emo stage of punk rock posters and anime comic books. With all of the work that had to be done, she saw no way that she could move everything out and simultaneously find another place to live in that short period of time.

I had always been a planner, and could never have seen myself flying across the country without anything in place. I thought the people who did stuff like that were insane, or never wore shoes and had dreadlocks. That being said, I knew I had to take a crazy leap of faith, because to say no to that intuitive guidance, would have meant saying “What if…” for the rest of my life.

Not long after that decision was made, I began to hear old addictive thoughts and habits return. My urges to binge, purge, and restrict, creeped back into my conscious mind, and next thing you know, I was back at the bodega buying three packs of gum every day. By the time I left, I was under the impression I was the only person keeping them in business. These flags were more red than my friends eyes on 4/20, and I kept trying to ignore these subtle thoughts and behaviors in the hopes that I could hold myself together and everything would be all hunky dory once I got to California.

A few months later, I’m standing at baggage claim in the LAX airport with just a ticket and a suitcase. No job, no place to live, just a bunch of clothes with no place to put them. I felt my soul was guiding me down this path, so surely the net would appear and I’d know where I was meant to go, right? Wrong. Utterly wrong. My biggest fear quickly went from “Where am I going to go to the Gym?” to “Where am I sleeping tomorrow night!?” and those red flags continued to wave until I was blinded by them.

Stay tuned to see what happened next !

A Woman on the Verge of Everything

“Fuck. I can’t believe I ate that entire bag of chips at the barbecue last night, and waddled all the way home with a food baby the size of my ex boyfriends ego. It was nothing short of a scene from the walking dead. At least they were gluten-free. It doesn’t even matter though, look at me! I look like the offspring of a sumo wrestler and Melissa McCarthy before she lost weight. If I don’t eat too much for the next few days, I should look decent by the time I have to fit into my tight dress.” Welcome to a glimpse in the mind of Brooke-Lyn.

I struggled with a severe eating disorder for years. Though at this point one would look at me, or see what I do, and think I’m totally “normal” now, it is clear by my thoughts, that I have not healed that part of me. I’ve dedicated my life to loving and embracing every part of me, and it is time I love this too in order to truly heal and transcend these patterns of thoughts and behaviors. I have been documenting this journey of healing and self discovery, and I’m eager and excited to get this out there to inspire others to take action towards reaching a more desirable version of themselves.

You know the saying “Jump and the net will appear”? Well I did jump, but there was no net, and I hit the pavement. This past year has been like a five star adventure/ drama /comedy movie, even though at that time, I saw it as a box office bomb. I’m ready to bare it all and finish this chapter of my life with an audience, because I’d rather take people along the journey, than write them a postcard once I’ve reached the destination saying “wish you were here.”

Though the journey has just begun, I’ve already been feeling like a mix between Britney Spears during her bald head phase, and Scooby Doo solving a mystery. Through uncovering and identifying parts of my past that I have held on to for decades, I am in the process of releasing myself of that bondage and false sense of self that has been created. It appears as though an eating disorder is about an obsession with food of some kind, but it’s really only the symptom of deeper rooted issues. While I’ve been dealing with the old wounds I have found over the past few months, sometimes I feel like a part of me is dying, but I believe it’s because a part of my identity is.

For me, I think a huge part of my healing process and inspiring others is being vulnerable, expressing myself (with a side of sarcasm), and accepting where I am in this journey of self discovery and love. It may take a few more months, or a year, but this part of me will heal. The deeper I go the darker it gets, but that’s where the best treasures lie, and I won’t stop digging until I reach gold.