...it is not by the sword or the spear that the Lord saves...1Sam 17:47

I will dance and resist and dance and persist and dance. This heartbeat is louder than death. “ — Suheir Hammad

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Fitness Isn't Pretty

I studiously avoid mirrors when I exercise.  I'm not pretty.  I make faces and get sweaty and gross and smell bad.  I notice my mighty bat-wings and how much my stomach sticks out.  If I forget my headband, my hair goes all Helena Bonham Carter on me.  Nothing I do looks all lovely and demure.

This morning I hit the fitness room at my hotel and quickly realized the small stuffy room with the rickety equipment was not a happy place.  SO, I handed my stuff over to the guy at the front desk and asked him to watch my phone, inhaler, keys and newspaper because I was going out to run.

He looked really surprised and said, "Outside?"  I nodded.  He said, still rather slowly, "Okay.  Have fun."

I stay here a lot so I know this neighborhood has more strip clubs than tea rooms.  Still, it's 5:30 AM, I'm over 6ft tall and surrounded by angels.  No one messes with me.

So, off I went, down 44th st, over to Van Buren, thinking about pancakes as I passed Bill Johnson's Big Apple.  I zigged through parking lots and zagged around cars.  My ipod played all the good songs, with the volume kept low in case there was anything I needed to hear approaching. (I'm well-protected, not stupid...)

It was cold.  I left my hoodie in Flagstaff (why on earth would I need it in Phoenix of all places?? Because now they are going through a cold spell that's why!) and my hands were numb as I moved from walking to running.

And I ran.

It was like there was all this extra oxygen just lying around.  I had completely spaced taking any asthma medication, and it didn't matter.  I ran.  Up streets, down sidewalks, walking across streets, running the long sides.  I felt like I could do this forever.

I glanced at the time and realized I needed to to get back and cleaned up to face my work day.  I ran twice around the hotel parking lot just because I wasn't QUITE ready to stop. 

As I ran inside, sweaty and gross and glowing, the clerk looked up and smiled at me and asked, "Have a good run?"  I grinned and nodded and he smiled even bigger and said, "It's good to sweat, isn't it?"

So, he knew.  It was a shared moment.

Because fitness isn't pretty.  It's beautiful.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Fun. Remember fun?

So, one of the things that hit me as I pondered 2012 in the rear view mirror, is that I didn't have a lot of fun.  I actually place quite a high value on fun, so that kind of surprised me.  I went on some awfully cool trips -to Louisiana to see my friend Dee, to MN to visit my family, to San Francisco, Chicago, and LA and Portland and Salt Lake City and New York and I'm sure other places I'm forgetting about.  Yuma! Went to Yuma.

Anyway, it turned out that when I was actually in Flagstaff, I didn't go out much. I didn't do any of the things I love to do, other than attending dance class.  I worked, worked out, went to an occasional lunch or dinner with friends, went to a rare movie or two.  That was pretty much it.  Wait!  I did go to a few sporting events for my university.  Mostly alone.

There are LOTS of things I love to do -live music of any kind, dancing, movies, hanging out with friends, seeing real art, hiking in pretty places, sewing, reading, making art. Writing.  And really, if it involves being around my friends, I will like practically anything.

So this year I decided it was time to get out of my rut of holing up in my house when I am home.  Even if I don't have anyone to go with, I am getting out of the house more.

This past weekend, I got a ticket on the spur of the moment to see a classical guitar concert.  It was wonderful.  It turned out a few people I know were there, and I got to hang out with friends afterwards at a local restaurant.

I spontaneously met another friend for a happy hour and mentioned there is a cello concert in a couple weeks I want to see -and it turned out she did too!  Then we asked a couple other people, and now a group of five of us are going to see the Portland Cello Project. 

This Saturday is my first 5K "run." I'm excited and nervous and worried and happy, all at once.  Since I'm doing it with friends, I know it, too, will be fun.

Friday, January 25, 2013

Best Pep Talk

Today, I was really dragging.  I stayed up too late playing on FB, and then got the chance to talk to my BFF around midnight, who was slightly tipsy and chatty due to a work event.  But talking with her always puts me in a good mood, so it was fun.  Still, not a lot of sleep.

I barely dragged myself out of bed to go work out this morning.  I do try to work out pretty much every day so that when the time comes that something crops up and I CAN'T work out as planned, I don't feel like I'm falling behind.

Since I'm "running" a 5k next weekend, my emphasis has been to every day "run" 3.25 miles and try to beat my own time.  I'm slow. I'm not where I thought I would be.  I won't BE where I want to be, timewise, by race time.  I've reached the acceptance stage of grief, so I'm not killing myself to cut my time by the 5 minutes I would have to to make that magical number in my head.

Well, today, all my recent theme songs got hit on my ipod shuffle, and as I was cooling down and thanking God for giving me the ability to run on a treadmill and getting me out of bed and thanking my guardian angels for whispering love into my ears while I ran, the song You Never Let Go came on and I thought, hmm, God, are you trying to tell me something?

In the locker room, while I was naked and never want to acknowledge others in the room, a woman named Sarah said she had overheard Jayne and I discussing earlier in the week how we are prepping for the Sedona Marathon 5K.  I said, yeah, and she got all enthusiastic and said she was running the 10K portion. 

This young woman LOOKED like a runner -slim, small frame, requisite ponytail.  Then she added, "I've been doing this two years, and my time hasn't improved and I'm really slow.  But I don't care.  I don't do it for time.  I do it for fitness and it helps with my diabetes.  And eventually, it becomes actually kind of fun.  I'm running in the Color Run tomorrow!"  I was thinking, YOU have diabetes?

I said, "OMGosh, thank you for sharing that!  I'm like, having meltdowns thinking about this 5K.  I mean, they aren't allowed to be like, mean or anything, right??"

She did not even laugh at that, she said, "Oh no!  Everyone is super supportive and they cheer for everyone and it is really fun when you pass the finish line and everyone is excited and happy, and it TOTALLY doesn't matter what your time is.  The only person who is going to care is you!  I was scared at my first race, too, but it is so much fun that once you are done you'll think, 'Why was I ever worried?' and sign up for the next one!!"

We chatted a bit more, and when we parted she said, "I will see you before the race next week, but if I don't I'll look for you at the finish line.  You'll have fun!"

This is the first time in weeks that I'm actually looking forward to my first real 5k.  I will be slow and that's okay.  I just need to cross the finish line.  That part seems like it really will be fun.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

The Long Road Behind

There is a wise old saying, Never look back except to see how far you've come.

I've been feeling a bit disheartened lately. 2011 was such a year of hopeful change and fun for me and I fully expected 2012 to be the same way.  It had all the earmarks of it.  I expected to be at a certain point physically by 2013 -so much so I signed up for a 10K that is in March 2013, certain that I would be able to run the whole thing.  Maybe awfully slowly, but still running.

Well, 2012 turned out to be a year where holding steady was the epitome of success. Sticking with diligent physical activity, showing up for commitments, eating healthy, just dealing, really.  All of that had to be done, and there wasn't really any extra energy (mentally, emotionally, physically) for more progress than that.

So, in trying to see the TRUTH in all of this and not just how I FEEL right now, I spent some time reviewing old posts from 2010 and 2011, and some journals, etc.

Damn, I've come a long way.

Yes, I lost a boatload of weight, but that was really a side effect of everything else that happened.

I learned how to love.  Imperfectly, sometimes broken, sometimes messy, but infused with Grace.  My head made the choice to act as if everything I believed about God was true -His Love, His Mercy, His Healing- until everything else in me caught up with that choice.  In that love I found the forgiveness that released all the anger and hurt that weighed me down for pretty much my whole life.

I learned how to apply that love to everything around me -including me. Also imperfectly, broken and messy and still infused with Grace.  I learned that love means taking good care of what is loved.  For me, that meant learning how to be in my body, learning how to be present in the moment and with the relationships I value, learning how to take good care of my body -learning how to eat, how to exercise, how to rest, how to find joy in something I had always seen as separate and inconvenient and rather distressing.  How to leave space between an action and my reaction.  How to stomp down on darkness.  Learning I do not have the luxury of wallowing in hopelessness.

I learned that His Mercy and Healing do not really rely on me in any way.  It is gift, just like love.  I just have to be open to it.  My worth lies in His infinite Love -not in my productivity or perfection or self-sufficiency.

I learned I am strong and brave and kind and loving and healthy and fun.

I spent so many years trying to figure out what was wrong with me.  It turns out, there ISN'T ANYTHING wrong with me.

I have theme songs every year.  It started out that when I would move (which, on average, was like every 6 months until I hit my mid-30s) what ever was playing on the radio when I arrived in town would be my theme song for however long I lived there.  Now I pick one for each year.  Last year was Jason Gray's Remind Me Who I Am... and God did. "If I'm your Beloved, can you help me believe it...?"

This year, it is You Are I Am by Mercy Me.  It's my heart, in a song.  It finally caught up with my head.

I've been the one to shake with fear
And wonder if You're even here
I've been the one to doubt Your love
I've told myself You're not enough

I've been the one to try and say
I'll overcome by my own strength
I've been the one to fall apart
And to start to question who You are

You're the one who conquers giants
You're the one who calls out kings
You shut the mouths of lions
You tell the dead to breathe
You're the one who walks through fire
You take the orphan's hand
You are the one Messiah
You are I am
You are I am

I've been the one held down in chains
Beneath the weight of all my shame
I've been the one to believe
That where I am You cannot reach

You're the one who conquers giants
You're the one who calls out kings
You shut the mouths of lions
You tell the dead to breathe
You're the one who walks through fire
You take the orphan's hand
You are the one Messiah
You are I am
You are I am

The veil is torn
And now I live with the Spirit inside
The same one, the very same one
Who brought the Son back to life

Hallelujah, He lives in me
Hallelujah, He lives in me
Hallelujah, He lives in me
Hallelujah, He lives in me

You're the one who conquers giants
You're the one who calls out kings
You shut the mouths of lions
You tell the dead to breathe
You're the one who walks through fire
You take the orphan's hand
You are the one Messiah
You are I am
You are I am

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Odd Things to Be Proud Of

It's really the little things that make me happy...

1.  I remembered to order Roxy's special hypoallergenic dog food before she ran out of it, so I don't have to feed her pure meat and eggs for five days waiting for it to come in.

2.  I noticed my various prescriptions were running low and remembered to pick up refills before running out of them.

3.  I haven't lost my rescue inhaler for over a month!

4.  I'm wearing blue today, thus successfully integrating color into my wardrobe.

5.  That gift for my dear niece, Rachel's, birthday?  IN THE MAIL!

6.  Discovered a super tasty super healthy pizza dough recipe that only has two ingredients!

7. Had a great workout this morning that didn't screw up my back. Much.

8. Am slowly but surely getting caught up at work.

9. I have been very faithful about reading Scripture since discovering iMissal.

10.  Remembered lunch AND my post-workout protein shake.


Any silly little things making you proud today?

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Fear Menagerie

It's a swirly thought day.

Had a lovely weekend for the most part.  Jayne and I went to Sedona and walked the 5K course so I could get the idea of some huge monstrous hill out of my head, and we were successful at that.  I later proceeded to have a complete meltdown at the thought of actually doing the 5K, but Jayne was all sensible and I do feel better.

I also got to see some other friends, like Lori, and have fun on Saturday actually leaving my house, so that was pretty cool.

I joke a lot about my ADHD meds, but I really am on them, and this week, my doc and I decided it was time to make a switch.  I've been on adderall for quite a while, but there are newer drugs out there with presumably fewer side effects and they can be more effective.

I popped my first one yesterday.  I now know to take them at breakfast and not lunch, because I didn't actually sleep last night.  They are supposed to last 12-14 hours, as opposed to my 8 hr adderall.  Oh, did they last.

The other thing that happened was I had an anxiety attack somewhere around 6pm.  This was new to me, as I'm not really prone to that sort of thing unless someone tries to shove me in a box.  And seriously, wouldn't YOU freak out a bit under those circumstances??

There I was chopping veggies for that AWESOME seafood stew I'm getting addicted to, and suddenly this wave of fear washed over me.  My heart was in my throat, my hands were shaking, my heartbeat escalated.  I was rather dumbfounded as my thoughts at that moment had been quite pleasant.  I grabbed my stopwatch that has a heart rate monitor on it and measured my heart rate at 120.  Hmm, that's not good, since I was just standing there.  I sat down, took some deep breaths as my lungs were tightening up in a rather frightening way, all these scary thoughts jumping into my head -things that at a normal time I wouldn't give a second thought to- looming as big as end-of-the-world catastrophes.

So, I knew this wasn't ME, so it had to be the med.  I emailed a doctor friend who told me to keep an eye on it and let my prescribing doctor know what happened.  I tried to take my mind off of it by returning to stew cooking and reminding myself that nothing at all is actually WRONG.  I prayed as I chopped and stirred.  Meanwhile, my heart rate slowly dropped back to normal -I stopped checking it when it went below 100.  My breathing eased up.

I have a message in to my doctor, so we'll see what's up.  It was not an experience I care to repeat.

Still, as I think on it, it does make me think a bit about the nature of fear.  I'm reminded again and again in scripture that there is no need for fear or worry.  God is with me through all my trials.  As the Desiderata, by Max Ehrman, states:  Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.  (When not drug-induced!) 

Ultimately, unwarranted fear is really lies and air.  It all LOOKS real, but it's just ghosts.  Even an army of ghosts can't actually hurt you.

The Lord is my Light and my Salvation -whom shall I fear?  Or what?  A big hill?  Student loan collectors? Coyotes eating my dog?  (Yes, that was a worry that cropped up in my head yesterday!)  Looking stupid?  Lies and air.

His Love is solid like a mountain.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Weighing In

Being a bit of an obsessive, it became clear pretty early on in the process of getting healthier that I really oughtn't weigh myself except at the doctor's office.  I almost can't HELP myself, and then suddenly I find myself getting worried about how many carbs are in a Eucharist host and constantly circling my fingers around my wrist to see if they go farther around now than 3 hours ago.

So, I stopped weighing.  It was hard but I did it, and it was very freeing.  Instead of counting carbs and calories, the focus became eating healthy and making permanent these new changes.

Then I discovered the scale at the gym.  If I take a different route to the locker room, it takes two seconds to hop on it and go on my way, while debating whatever number showed up.  Good?  Bad? What did it say yesterday?

Today, I hopped on in front of my dear Jayne, saying, "It only takes two seconds!" and she cocked her head and said, "Yes, but it takes more than two seconds of mental energy out of your day!"

Just yesterday I had a conversation that went something like this:

"Why are you weighing?  You aren't trying to lose weight, right?"

"Well, not really, but it would be nice..."

"You're undereating.  Weighing yourself isn't going to help you focus on what is important.  Focusing on eating healthy, without even caring about calories will help.  Choosing healthy things to eat will help."

"I'm just too tired to think about it."

"Maybe you're tired because you aren't eating enough?"

"Um, well, okay, maybe.  I'm a little freaked because I gained weight."

"You were supposed to gain weight, remember?  You haven't changed sizes.  You're strong and able to do lots more physically.  You'll lose all that if you keep this up."

It takes so so long to form good habits so that they ARE a true part of your life, especially when it goes against all the things you used to "know."  I remind myself that the scale has never been my friend -it's like that person you know that has a funny sharp sarcastic wit that can be entertaining, but you are always a bit afraid of them and when they will turn that meanness toward you.

So, in addition to swearing off Sugar Mamas for the duration of January, I shall swear off weighing that long.

Healthy choices lead to more healthy choices and I don't want to give mental energy to things that aren't worth it.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

The Power of Two

Today was a "bad air day."  My lungs were struggling just walking out of the house.  Two minutes into the five mile workout dear Jayne and I had sworn to each other we would do this morning (solely to justify hitting the grand opening of the Chick Fil A here in town!) I knew I wouldn't be running.  Five minutes in, I had to slow it down from a brisk walk to a bit of a meander.  Lungs burning 10 minutes in, and I knew going an entire five miles was a fantasy.  Four hits off my inhaler seemed to confirm that.

This is my greatest struggle with asthma -the unpredictability.

Left alone, I probably would have stopped after two miles.  I hurt, I was whiny, I just wanted to stop.  I could feel tears prickling the back of my eyes. 

But, see, Jayne was there.  I promised to be there for her, so no matter how slow I had to go, I had to keep going.  When I got to the 2-mile mark, I said, "I'm going until YOU hit five miles, and then I'm done."  She laughed and said, "Well, I'll run more so you can stop sooner!" and we both cracked up.

I was on that treadmill over an hour before my lungs started to ease up.  I was able to run a bit the last 3/4 mile to hit a full five miles.  Jayne had already hit her five miles but she stuck with me until I was done.

I about cried when we stopped... because it hurt, because I did something I really didn't think I could do, out of gratitude Jayne was there, because I didn't give up when I really, really wanted to, out of happiness to be able to complete the original goal... lots of reasons, really.

Still, that chicken biscuit tasted even better sitting across from Jayne and knowing we did what we set out to do!

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

A Rose by Any Other Name ...

So, I've been pondering the name thing lately.

It is no secret that I have an active dislike for my first name.  The reasons are too complex to go into here, but suffice to say, I have been QUITE content to go by "Amy" -my family nickname for me- in all social situations.  My mom always always called me Amy and apparently that was actually supposed to be my name until fate intervened.  The only people who call me Anne are those whom I've met through work.

When I was in the convent, my name was Sr. Michaeleen, which is my middle name.  I loved it.  I'm actually quite fond of my middle name.  Every once in a great while, I contemplate letting go of Anne completely and just going by my middle name.  Then I think of how complex that would make life for those around me, and eschew that idea.  So I am resigned to Anne being my "work" name.

Sometimes people ask me how to spell "Amy" and I say, it doesn't matter.  It's a nickname.  It appears on no legal documents and sometimes just to add a bit of excitement to my life, I change up how I myself spell it.  That's the freedom of a nickname, really.  Still, it feels more like my REAL name than my "real" name does.

The name "Amy" means "Beloved."  When I first learned that, and thought about all the implications of all my names and the complex relationship my mom and I had, it really touched me and brought me to tears.

No matter the long and sometimes hurtful history of the last 43 years, when I was born, I was wanted and cherished and beloved -so much so that my mom named me that.  My mother named me Beloved.  That was her name for me.

Okay, so it still brings me to tears sometimes.

The sheer BIGNESS of love sometimes takes my breath away.  We all love quite imperfectly but just the love being there makes up for so many other things.

I think that is why I am so drawn to spiritual things... so much of theology and philosophy and ethics just boils down to the concept of love, and how we act on that love.  Our greatest example is Christ himself, who out of sheer love for all of us, allowed Himself to be tortured and killed.

So maybe what I REALLY like about being called Amy by my friends and family, is that they are all calling me Beloved.

And I really love that thought.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Love in Action

I've been thinking about love a lot lately, and not just because Valentine candy is everywhere.

One of my colleagues in another department lost everything when her home burned.  They weren't insured.  Yep, everything gone, and no umbrella of money to come in and help replace things.

Some folks here started a fund to help, and posted flyers everywhere, and are collecting things to give them

Back when I lived in MI, I worked for this HORRIBLE nonprofit, where a similar thing happened.  one of our cottage workers, a woman who probably did not clear $10/hr, lost everything in a fire.  Thankfully, she DID have renter's insurance, but her whole life was thrown into chaos, and since it takes a while to get insurance money, she needed help.

I waited a day or so to see if HR or anyone would start something for her, then did it myself.  I was SHOCKED at the reactions.

Out of all the people who worked there, 5 people contributed either money or stuff.  Five.  Out of maybe 300 employees.  Five.  Everyone else said, "She isn't my problem."

I am still so sad for them.  To be so angry and tied in knots you cannot reach out to someone you actually know who is in need has to be a terrible place to live.

I do not believe on any level that you must contribute to every worthy cause.  You hear, Oh if everyone gave a dollar, then... which is true, but there are a million worthy causes out there, not including the individuals we run into daily who need our immediate help, and most of us aren't millionaires.

It just strikes me as hard heartedness to ignore the needs of someone right in front of you.  But even more so than that, such gestures, however small, show in a real way that someone is loved, is not alone, is not forgotten. Having been the beneficiary of love in action, I know how much such thoughtfulness can mean to someone.

As St. Teresa of Calcutta said, "Stay where you are. Find your own Calcutta. Find the sick, the suffering and the lonely right there where you are -- in your own homes and in your own families, in your workplaces and in your schools. ... You can find Calcutta all over the world, if you have the eyes to see. Everywhere, wherever you go, you find people who are unwanted, unloved, uncared for, just rejected by society -- completely forgotten, completely left alone."

Amen.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

BABIES!

Wow, I know a LOT of people pregnant or parents of newborns lately!  Well, I guess with this recession, no one can afford to go out to movies any more.

Babies are so cool.  I love to see pics posted on FB of all the cute things the kids are doing.  I love visiting my friends with small children and getting my baby-and-toddler fix.  I practically frame every note and wobbly drawing I receive from my nieces and nephews.

Yeah, sometimes it is a bit challenging to not get all teary when yet another friend announces an upcoming birth.  It is a pain peculiar to the childless who always longed for children.  Being joyfully happy and a wee bit sad at the same time can feel a bit crazy-making.

I'm not alone in this particular boat.  None of us want to turn into a modern-day equivalent of Miss Haversham, but honesty is important, too.  We certainly don't want our friends to feel afraid to share such delightful good news with us.  Everyone in the world has to move toward acceptance of circumstances we wish were different, and the unwillingly childless are no different in that sense.

A handful of my married-with-children friends understand this -mostly the ones who have suffered through miscarriages or infant loss.  They get that happiness and pain can go hand in hand -and in fact, as you advance through life, they often do.

The idea that can be difficult to convey, is that the happiness at the announcement of new humans to love is still real, still genuine, still joyful and with the greatest prayers for a multitude of a lifetime of blessings for them and their excited parents.

And really, it is that joyful hope that sustains us all.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Height, Weight and Being Me

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you someone else is the greatest accomplishment -Ralph Waldo Emerson

The idea of owning Who I Am has been a bit of a theme the past few days.  Considering I'm still learning all kinds of things about my own self, this is a bit of a challenge, and in talking to other people, I'm not alone in this.

This week I met with a local plastic surgeon to get an idea of what it would take to get all this excess skin removed.  Being a cheapskate at heart, I was hoping to avoid this surgery, but frankly, it is a source of daily aggravation.

My body has paid the price of my dysfunction my entire life.  I have mentally and emotionally moved on from the various events that shaped so much of my attitude toward my body and my life, and darn it, my body deserves the chance to move on, too.  My resilient body has survived every attempt I made to quash it.  I am so grateful for that today.

As the surgeon and I began to chat (while I was fully clothed) he calculated my BMI and according to the standard BMI chart, I am still considered "obese."  Then he said I would have to lose 100 pounds to be at my ideal weight, according to the chart.  I looked at him and asked where he expected that hundred pounds to be lost -I wasn't willing to amputate my limbs. 

The next part required him to take a look at me naked.  This visit was combining every possible trigger for a meltdown I have -being seen naked by someone I don't know, being touched intimately by someone I don't know, tiny exam room and just plain anxiety about the analysis of the situation.

I could have stopped the discussion at that point, but damn it, if it took stripping naked to prove the BMI charts wrong, by all that is HOLY, I would do it.  After he got a good look at me (including pinching all the chubby parts!) EVEN HE conceded that my body fat percentage seems rather lower than my BMI would suggest, yet he insisted we ought to follow the chart. As you may or may not know, BMI does not actually have anything to do with body fat and isn't a good tool for measuring health or fitness and the chart itself concedes that it is not at all accurate when it comes to people who exercise a lot.  BUT it is easy, so people like it.

I confess that after I left I spent a few minutes agonizing over being the large economy size.  I will never fit into standard height-weight charts.  I honestly plotted out a bit of a plan to get down to the weight the chart insists I be.  This included stopping lifting weights because muscle weighs too much.  I had to stomp flat a few self-destructive thoughts I had along the way.

As I came to my senses, I realized that since I had freed myself from the tyranny of the scale, I've been healthier and happier and I just don't WANT to buy into the idea that I ought to fit into some cookie cutter idea of what weight I "ought" to be. And that doctor is an idiot.  I can dead-lift HIM.  He can suck it.

I am just me.  I spent an adulthood in therapy and the last two years of my life learning how to love myself and treat my body with loving care.  I am healthy and strong and mostly stable and more fit than many people I know, and it just keeps getting better.

Chart THAT, jackass.

Monday, January 7, 2013

Zen and Lunacy

This morning at the gym I noticed a man on a treadmill directly across from me.  He didn't look particularly distinct except for one thing... he made running look effortless.

He was there when I arrived and finished before me.  I hope he didn't realize I was noticing him, because it is kind of rude to watch people as they work out, but I just couldn't help it.

I'm not sure "effortless" is the right word -he was certainly putting in effort.  Rather, he just looked completely relaxed, completely in the moment, peaceful, not gritting his teeth or killing himself in a no-pain-no-gain manner we often succumb to.  He looked like he actually just enjoyed the process of running.

I found him fascinating.  I promptly labelled him "Zen Man."

Part of the reading for Mass today is Matthew 4:24... His (Jesus) fame spread to all of Syria, and they brought to him all who were sick with various diseases and racked with pain, those who were possessed, lunatics, and paralytics, and he cured them. 

I think one of the things that makes me fond -affectionate even- of Jesus is that although he always points people toward the kingdom of Heaven, he took care of people right there in front of him.  He gave people back their lives here on earth -such people as the above could hardly have supported themselves in any dignified manner, much less got a whole lot of actual enjoyment out of life.  Jesus addressed the problems of the moment to relieve the suffering of those around him.

Living in the present moment isn't just for people who proclaim Buddhism.  Jesus in various ways tried to tell us all the same thing -don't worry about what you are going to eat or drink or wear, God will provide, will cure, will direct, will save.

Speaking as one whose mind is always on something besides what is right in front of her, I find this kind of trust appealingly impossible.  This level of trust is a grace, not a simple human virtue.  On my own, I cannot do this.  I know, I've tried, I've failed, again and again.  It actually feels rather like lunacy.

So, I am holding on to the hope that all the other things Jesus says are also true, including Whatever we ask for in His name, we will receive.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Last Day of the Vacation

Man, I am so not ready to start my usual routine.  Tomorrow actually involves leaving the house somewhere around 6AM and returning somewhere around 7pm.  Let me tell you, the dog who runs this household is VERY unhappy with me on Mondays! Such a Monday also takes the kind of planning usually reserved for invading foreign countries.

Honestly, it doesn't help that the VAST majority of my "vacation" sucked eggs.  I'm all like, hey, I'm ready to have some fun finally... AAAAND it's back to the office for me!!

Still, I am determined to cultivate a positive attitude.  At least my back going out did not affect my job in any way.  That's good, right?

I'm sure there is something else to be happy about regarding this situation, if I really think about it.

I woke up this morning and not one single thing hurt.  My back did not ache even a tiny bit, and when I thoughtlessly twisted to pick my shoes up off the floor, did not feel so much as a twinge.  My heel, which started hurting back in Sept (coincidentally when I started running regularly) did not hurt even a tiny bit.

I did stop a moment to marvel at the absence of pain.  That is, indeed, rather rare.  I wondered for a moment if I was awake, actually, or if this was a super vivid dream.  Then I stubbed my toe and it confirmed my consciousness.

As my fav author, Robert Jordan, once wrote in Crossroads of Twilight, "Sometimes, pain is all that lets you know you're alive."

Still, when all the swearing was said and done, it occurred to me how grateful I was to simply feel fine.  It seems like such a small thing, one's health, but it affects so, so many different things.  Being able to drive without any pain, walk across the room, stand upright, pick things up off the floor, carry anything, stand for more than 5 minutes, sit for more than 10 minutes, without wincing or hobbling, or suddenly stopping because some unexpected stabbing pain took your breath away.

I've pondered a bit about my response when I return to work tomorrow and everyone asks me how my vacation was.  Do I lie and say, "oh fantastic!"?  Be truthful and say, "So happy I survived!"?

I think I will stick with a nice middle ground:  It was good to have some time away.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

2013

So, I was thinking that the last time I felt truly centered and stable and good in my own skin was in April. I remember a few moments in San Francisco (I was on a work trip a couple peeps kept me company on!) when I felt positively radiant. Strong. Happy. Self confident. I also remember the moment that same week my whole world got shaken, I slid off my center, and it's been a scramble to get back on my game.

I want to get back there.

2012 was really difficult... It was, as they say, a season for growth and depth I did not ask for, and yet received anyway. This was a season I am soberly grateful for, although that gratitude is frankly more intellectual than hearty right now. My heartfelt gratitude is reserved for knowing that without being stable when everything got cracked up, I would not have survived.

God gave me 2011 so I could withstand 2012. I did not see that until just now.

I CAN get back to center, but I had to take a hard look at what was really slipping this past year. This was a desert time... I rarely felt the presence of God and wondered rather frequently if He even existed and if He does, does He even care about me in any small way?

It got very dark very often. It is hard to be alone in the world.

My theme song for 2013 is You Are I Am by MercyMe. The reason this calls to me, I think, is that throughout this entire time, God knew the big picture. He has actually been with me through all of this, and has never left me to face anything alone.

My goal for 2013 is to trust that knowledge. I think it is in that trust that I will regain my center.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Why I train- a reprise

This old post from 2011 from my old blog really spoke to me today, so I'm reprinting it:


A friend asked me this question on Facebook this morning, "What are you training for?"

The knee-jerk response is, "To lose weight and look hot in a belly dance costume!"

Except, that isn't really the TRUE answer, just the easy one that makes people smile.

I like losing weight because it is easy to measure and gives instant gratification or remorse. UP 2 pounds, sigh. DOWN 2 pounds, happy dance. I don't actually get all THAT excited either way, but I think I'm supposed to, given everyone else's reactions to such news.

I'm in training to be more me.

It hit me over a year ago that the way I was living my life was much like reacting to electrical shocks... and after years of reacting (usually badly) I wanted to see what would happen if I made a definitive move toward health and happiness. What would happen if I just TRIED?

No one who knows me can doubt my work ethic or ability to perform, but I'd never put those skills to use for myself. I have a slew of former employers who would be happy to hire me back, a few former boyfriends who occasionally try to rebuild a bridge, and a number of accomplishments under my belt. For some reason I avoided making my own life and health a priority.

Okay, I've lost weight before, somewhat successfully, usually driven by self loathing and eating disorders, topped with crazy amounts of punishing exercise.

I decided, what if I acted like I actually love myself and care about myself, and did healthy things for myself in a sane and rational way? With no real deadline, no one to compete against or for?

What could I be capable of if I started believing that I am beloved Child of God, created for a purpose, and loved down to my toenails, exactly as I am??

I took a goal-setting seminar about a year ago, and part of this was visualizing what you really want your life to look like.

Hmmm... I thought... well, my ideal life involves a lot more dancing, for sure, except I can hardly dance longer than 5 minutes right now... that sucks, okay, ideal ideal ideal... okay more dancing, visualizing dancing longer than 5 minutes... okay, next thing... I used to love to bike and go for long walks... hmm, very hard to do that now since I feel weird and awkward most of the time, and tired a lot... okay next thing... I want to actually DO stuff and not just watch it on TV... I want to go back to Ireland and walk all over the place, and Rome... and Morocco... and I'm not doing that now, not because I"m afraid, but because, gosh, that seems like a lot of effort.

After while of thinking and praying, it occurred to me that I had become Something Besides Me. After years of wrapping my life around my responsibilities and obligations, rather than joy and love and light, and stuffing my frustration down with junk food and inactivity, I could not recognize myself.

Now, to be completely honest, I never had a very good sense of who I am. I am very blessed that God got a good grip on me as a child, because I would probably be a total crack whore if left to my own devices and inclinations and influences.

So part of becoming more me, is discovering who on earth I am to begin with. Some of these have been small discoveries, like how I really like my eggs cooked... some have been big discoveries, like going to the movies by myself can be very fun. Just discovering that I actually do have preferences and likes and dislikes has been cool.

Learning to say no has been AWESOME! I've turned down volunteer opportunities, activities that seemed unappealing, requests for money, time, and effort I didn't want to give, sales pitches, guilt trips and anger.

Learning to say no to these things freed me up to say Yes to the things I'm drawn to: being fully present with people I love, traveling for pure pleasure, trying new and slightly scary things, volunteering joyfully in ways I feel fulfilled, even putting on boxing gloves and smacking the heck out of a punching bag!

Who knew hitting something could be so purely fun??? Who knows what else I've never tried that will be fun, too??

SO yes, I'm in training to lose weight and look hot in a belly dance costume... which is so totally ME.

Making Dinner -in pictures

I decided to make my favorite Pita Jungle-inspired dish and make enough for leftovers.  I say "inspired" because we don't actually know what goes into the deliciousness of their Chicken Del Sol, but this is pretty close.  And just as tasty, even if I say it myself.

First, one must don something badass for such an undertaking.  Then remember it is cooking, so a super cute apron is necessary!


 
Then, dice and brown chicken in olive oil and garlic, and chop up and carmelize an onion, all the while thinking, I REALLY need to remember to get these knives sharpened!!
 
 
Remember, CRABAPPLE, carmelizing onion can be a smoky business, so turn on vent fan!

Assemble other ingredients:

Chicken broth, sofrito, chipotle seasoning, a lime, frozen corn and Holy Salt.  Oh, and diced tomatoes, three cans:


Mix them all together in the pot with the the onions:

The buzzer  goes off, so go change out the laundry:
 
 
Come back to the kitchen and wash off the black beans.  You really want to do this.  Don't be lazy and just dump the can in.

Once the pot has started to simmer again, add in the black beans and chicken:

 
And mix it all in.


While you let that simmer, for like, an hour, uncovered, take stock of the state of your kitchen:


And clean it for goodness sakes!!

Then remember, darn!  I wanted to roast sweet potatoes, too!

So get the ingredients together for that: Olive Oil, Vanilla, Garlic, Cinnamon and a Sweet Potato, and a ziplock bag:

 
 Chop up the sweet potato on the one clean cutting board left, once again realizing that you need to get your knives sharpened:
 
Mix the other ingredients all together in the ziplock bag: 
 
 
 Put the sweet potato in the bag and mush around until its all evenly coated with the mixture:
 
You can wash and reuse the ziplock bag, but I won't judge you if you throw it out.  Place the sweet potatoes on a foil covered pan, and stick in countertop oven so you don't have to heat up the big oven.

375 degrees, 30 minutes.
 
Remember: CRABAPPLE, gotta stir the pot!!
 
 
Then add garlic because it is sitting there and can there ever really be too much garlic?? 
 
 After 20 minutes, flip sweet potatoes over so they cook evenly.
 
You now have a bit of a break, so you grab the ice pack from the freezer because you are freakin overdoing the standing thing considering your back was completely OUT yesterday, pose your adorable dog next to it and snap a picture because a picture of an ice pack with a dog in it is much more fun than just the ice pack!
 
Then grab the bleach and wipe down the counter because your dog is a dog and you just set her down on a food prep surface.

 
Then remember that you have to clean the kitchen some more and do dishes and stuff:
 And set the timer just in case you wander off and forget you are cooking something on the stovetop.
YAY!!!  CLEAN KITCHEN!!!


No pictures of me sitting in my comfy chair with the icepack uploading all these darn pictures!!!

But look!!  The food is ready!!!



So now I get to eat!  I put the sweet potatoes in the same bowl because why have to wash one more dish??

Now go entertain yourselves, I'm eating!

Happy New Year!!