44 Reasons

I'm turning 44 next week.  According to FB, I'm turning 103.  I really need to get around to changing that. I'm probably skewing their stats somehow.

Last year (when it was readily apparent the previous year, in which I turned 42, turned out to be a huge clusterfuck of a year, and I could not think of more than one or two good things that happened) I decided to write down one good thing every single day so I could not say that about this past year.

I'm really glad I decided to do that. The challenges this year have been pervasive and sometimes disheartening.  I've been ill several times, my back has gone out and now I find out it is actually really in bad shape, very big staffing challenges at work, struggling with loneliness, struggling to stay positive and hopeful and healthy.

I do have a tendency to look back on a year and see everything that DIDN'T happen. Didn't lose more weight, get in better shape, find a new job, meet a boyfriend, learn Spanish or get my Christmas cards out before Christmas.

So, what was in my Blessings Jar?

Spain.  Spain was a very big happy thing.

Mostly it was little things.  A surprise note from my sister in law, a phone call from my cousin, lunch with dear friends, someone bringing me Lumberyard mac n cheese when I was sick, a good book or a sweet Snapchat or text from a darling niece.  Someone whose opinion matters to me saying he was proud of me.  Sitting on a beach with a dear friend thinking about nothing at all.  Small lucky things, like a bill being smaller than I thought it would be, or a car accident that just BARELY didn't happen. Beautiful things, those moments when you are real and the person you are with is real and it is scary and vulnerable and lovely all at once. God things -unexplanable events, love, forgiveness.

I was looking for 44 reasons today reminding me of happiness, and got 365.  Not a bad practice at all.

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Soft Spots

I have a soft spot for different kinds of people, but today I've been thinking a lot about my homeless peeps.  It is really freakin cold out there.

I also have been filled with a lot of gratitude for the folks who, during the times I had no where to go, took me in.

The thing is, as I look back on my life (as this is my birthday month, I seem to be rather reflective) I can think of several times I did not have a place to live, and but for people who cared for me, I would have been homeless.

In high school when my mom would flake out, I knew I could show up on the doorsteps of my friends, and their parents would take me in, feed me, and make sure I got to school.

In college when a summer job fell through, I showed up at a friend's apartment with a duffle bag holding everything I owned (quite literally $5 to my name) and my sweet dog, Susie, and we all lived there rent-free for a few months. (Turned out, the place had been condemned so the LL couldn't collect rent for it, and rather than find a safer place, we rejoiced in saving money! Crazy kids.)

After law school, living with my dear aunt and uncle in Houston, and then with my friend Tracy and her then-husband, until I got a full time job and on my feet.

After the dreadful convent experience, moving back in with my dad until I could get my head on straight to hold down a job.

In each of these times if someone hadn't been moved to pity, saying, "This is your place until you get it together" my alternative would have been a homeless shelter.

Admittedly, it has been a long time since I have been jobless or without resources but I think those experiences are what grew all the soft spots in my heart.  I think people know that, so I meet lots of folks who need stuff -sometimes socks, sometimes just a kind smile.  And I CAN give that to them.

I'm very comfortable in my life today... my little house is warm and I can buy gifts for my nieces and treat friends to dinner and buy any clothes I need or want at the moment the whim strikes.  I went to freakin SPAIN this year!  I look around in wonderment sometimes, puzzling how I got to this lovely place when there were so many chances along the way to fall down and stay down.

But LOVE lifts us all up, right?  It's LOVE that makes us all hug our friends and family tight and make room for them.  It's LOVE that puts the coins in the red kettle, or dishes out the turkey on Thanksgiving, or slips a grungy looking guy a five.  It's LOVE that says, "I will stand with you when you are hopeless and in despair and heading in the wrong direction."  LOVE says, "I will keep pointing toward the light."

That kind of Love lets the whole world know we aren't alone.

Confessions of a Sedentary Fall

2013 was not a year to go down in the books as The Best Year Ever.  However, it did not completely suck, as I was careful to write down all the non-sucky things to remind myself my life is actually pretty damn good.

My assistant, Katrina, and I were chatting today about my back.  She is studying to be a physician's assistant, and her husband is a physical therapist, so she has a rabid interest in these things.

One of the very hardest things for me to do as I try to live a reasonably healthy life is the integration of physical activity since my back has been making a lot of noise.  I actually love to exercise, but over the years I have learned to keep going, even when it hurts.  It's just pain, you know?

My physical therapist about had a stroke when I mentioned I had gone running over the holiday.  I've been told by several health professionals that maybe someday I will be able to run again, but now is not that time.  While I was running, it was awesome... the next day I was hobbling along.  He said, "I am really happy your back felt good enough to go running, but please don't do that again until we get it healed."

Then yesterday I had an AWESOME workout with my trainer... yeah, my back started to hurt a bit during the lunges, but it wasn't bad... and then later I stood stooped for an hour helping actresses with their hair... today, I am hobbling and feeling rather teary.

Katrina gave me the LOOK, the one she usually reserves for me waving goodbye to a deadline, "You're not going to get better if you keep that up!"

"I know, I know!" I said.  "But it is so hard to know when to stop and I have been such a SLUG since August... I hardly work out at all, and PT isn't really calorie burning -it is all these small movements and I have to stop so fast and I'm getting FAT again and my jeans are tight and I'm freaking out!"

"THAT doesn't matter!" she waved her hands.  "Your back matters!  You won't be able to exercise at all if you aren't mobile!  Priorities!  Your back is your priority!  If you gain weight you will lose it when your back is better!  How hard do you think it will be to lose weight if you are stuck in bed because your back is out??"

Then I got the stern I-love-you-but-I-will-smack-you look as she waited for my promise to love my back enough to be aware when it is done with an activity.  She didn't wait long.  She scares me a little.

So, "patience," "compassion" and "awareness" are the words of the month.

Happy Gratitude Expression Day!

Right now I am giving thanks that I am in Baton Rouge and sleeping a lot and eating well and have really lovely meds!  The emergency root canal trauma is past, and I am calm and happy in Creole country!  The hot stone massage and lovely facial contributed to my centeredness.

This morning I decided to go for a walk.  The last couple days have been about traveling and spa-ing and eating and I was feeling really restless.

Off I set into the chill Louisiana morning.  The temperature was the same here as it was in Flagstaff, which is wrong on many levels.  Still, the sun was shining brightly and the breeze was light and invigorating and I longed for that sense of superiority one feels as one is out getting exercise while others are feasting. 

The music was great.  My back was a little achey but as I walked it worked itself out... and I wanted to run.  I went back and forth in my mind... I have been warned to not run for a while until I'm farther along in physical therapy and my lower back is stronger.  But then a really good song came on, and I just had to run.  Had to!

So, I did.  I felt rebellious for about 10 seconds then had to concentrate on breathing.

As much as I have complained about running in the past, I admit there were times I have loved it.  Running along Lake Michigan in downtown Chicago from the Chicago River, around Shedd aquarium and back again was a beautiful run.  Running in Phoenix early one morning and watching the world wake up in purples and reds reminded me of the beauty in every setting, when you look for it.

Running isn't something my body takes to... Asthma interferes, especially in Flagstaff where the altitude and the control burns sometimes conspire to suck the joy out of being outside at all, much less running. My back protests when I push too hard.

But sometimes, everything clicks together in some sort of magical sequence that requires my feet to burst into a run and stay there until my lungs burn and my shirt is soaked with sweat, and yeah, my back is aching but that is nothing compared to the sheer joy of moving through the air.

Sometimes I get mad at my body for not being everything I want it to be, and this morning as the sun shone on my back and my ponytail bobbed against my neck, all I could feel was gratitude for the ability to run.  Not a talent and not something I will ever be good at, but I can do it.  My body has survived so many challenges and has climbed every wall I needed to climb.  There are days coming, just as there have been before, when I will not be able to run... or climb... or walk... and I pray my attitude will not be one of grief and loss but simple gratitude of knowing what it feels like when the breeze is light and fresh and my feet are warm from the ground and the music in my ears is perfect and all is well with the world.

Calms and Storms

I was talking to a former colleague and she said, You were always so fun to work with, and so calm!

I was a bit nonplussed at that statement until she reminded me of the time when an hysterical drug addict came into our little storefront law firm in Indiana, and how I kept my head and just dealt with it and was super calm with her.  Or the time a client was losing her head over the possibility of losing custody of her kids and how quietly I managed the situation.

Okay, I will own being good in a crisis.

Yesterday was not that day.

To be fair to myself, this has been building.  It was a rough day to begin with, and  I've been getting sucker punch after sucker punch lately from Life and yesterday culminated in an emergency root canal.  This was not good news.  I could feel my already stress laden brain panicking as the memory of the severe pain from my last root canal in July came to mind, along with ending up in the hospital and missing a lot of work.

I had a total meltdown at the endodontist's office.  She was very kind and explained that happens a lot, including the asthma attack and throwing up part.  That was very nice of her.  She then wrote me a scrip for Valium.

I had to go to Target and while there realized I was past the point of dealing rationally.  So I got a lot of candy -intending to binge quite frankly.

Once I got home and played with Roxy (shout out to Jayne for taking her to her vet appt while I was getting needles stuck in the roof of my mouth!) and ate dinner, I chilled out a bit.  My cousin Hammie called and we talked.  I baked cookies for my dear friend I am visiting today in Louisiana.  I picked a date to travel to Barcelona in the spring.  I packed my suitcase.  I was a lot calmer.  

Eventually, I had a chat with God and apologized for handling things so badly yesterday.  He said it wasn't a big deal and really I am being too hard on myself.  It was a bad day and crying is good for your skin and also releases stress hormones.  Pretending things are fine when they aren't doesn't really benefit anyone.

So as I walked out to the kitchen this morning, I saw the big bag of candy.  I had forgotten I'd bought all that.  I was right when I realized I was beyond dealing with the day rationally.  It wasn't a rational day.  It required dealing with all the emotions and stress and fear and pain.  It did not require candy.  It required love and friends and crying and some really sweet painkillers.

And today is a brand new day.

Loving What You Do

I was at a conference this week, and met someone who basically offered me the opportunity to explore job opportunities at his trust firm.  He pointed out that what I could be making in Manhattan would make the rest of my life QUITE financially comfortable.

So we talked.  In my disbelief that SOMEONE WAS TALKING TO ME ABOUT A JOB THAT PAYS A BILLION TIMES BETTER THAN I MAKE NOW, I promptly texted half the people I know.  Most encouraged me to follow up and take the job if offered, because damn that's a lot of money.  And I was flattered... He explained that my particular qualifications are very rare and very expensive in the world of high finance.  I'm expensive.  I knew that on the output side, never realized that on the income side!

I learned from taking a job once purely for the money to NEVER EVER DO THAT, so I was a bit more circumspect.

The kind of job he was offering was basically life in a shark tank.  If you know me, you know I crumble like a cracker under pressure.

Okay, that isn't really true, I'm pretty damn tough, actually.  But I just don't CARE enough about money to live my life with that at the center.  That sort of job comes with that as a minimum qualification.

A few years ago, I looked around and realized I make enough money. Yeah, it would be nice to have enough to live in luxury, but really, I have a roof over my head, a driveable car and I never have to choose between electricity and food.  This puts me in a pretty freakin grand situation.

More importantly, I have TIME.  I get a goodly number of vacation days, I can spend time with my friends, I don't have to keep my phone on 24/7 or when I'm on vacation.  I work hard, but I can set boundaries for my mental health.

So, while knowing I am Expensive is delightful, I don't want to pay that high a price for that kind of life.

Judgement Day

So. I've been feeling bad about myself lately.  I've been getting sick easily, not rolling with the punches the way I want to be, and I'm eating anything and everything caloricly dense I can find. I'm tired. I'm reactive.

And, I'm gaining weight.  Not much yet, but I'm starting to have visions of gaining back everything I lost with change. So in response to that tight feeling my clothes are giving me, I'm eating even worse and starting the Great Spiral Of Crazy Food Thoughts that never go anywhere good.

During a moment of clarity yesterday, when I was berating myself for yet another poor food choice, I tried to connect with the three-years-ago me, much crazier and reactive than the Me I really know and love... And wondered what made me be more determined and focused and whatever it was that I'm not now.

Judgment.

I remember deciding to stop being so damn judgmental about myself and show myself some fucking compassion about my situation.  I decided to remove all judgment about my weight and behavior and look at it as a problem to solve, no longer a character flaw, and stomping on any and all negativity I directed at myself.

Okay, I have a problem to solve.  

Back to the basics.  Find a support system that includes other people who want a supportive environment to achieve their goals... Friendly, positive, serious about their goals,kind.  Started a FB group with friends.  I think this is a good direction.

Eating my emotions.  Well, I know that is about just feeling my feelings. Be sad, be mad, be happy, be sad one second and mad the next... Acknowledge it and let it go.  Stuffing it just adds more fuel to the flame.

Ask for help.  Ask for help from God, from my friends, from anyone who is willing to provide it.  I am not alone, so I won't act like it.

I'm tired, I'm overwhelmed, I'm stressed.  Well, I can't just exercise away my stress the way I used to... But being patient with myself as I explore what I CAN do and sleep when I need to and attack that To Do list the way one eats an elephant... one bite at a time... That is crucial.

Reminding myself that peace and calm are gifts from God the same as any other thing... if I don't take advantage of it, they are of no value.  When I feel the most rushed and stressed and overwhelmed, that is when I most need to step back, reconnect with the Source whose heart is my home, and show myself some compassion and kindness.

My body is simply worn out from everything it has been required to take on this past year.  Bodies need rest.  I know myself well enough that any weight gain I see is less about what I eat and more about how I feel.  When I'm at peace, the weight comes off with a bit of simple discipline.  When I'm not at peace, I could exercise constantly and live off air and not lose a pound.

So my intention this week is to simply show compassion to myself, and live in peace.  I will peacefully and with compassion observe my behavior and lovingly decide from there the best course of action.

Voice of Truth

Got some scary news.  As you may know, my back has a tendency to go out.  I finally found out why (my spine has decided it has done enough work for one lifetime) and we are deciding on different courses of treatment.

I'm VERY grateful my brother went to med school for all those years just for me.  Right now I am marvelling at God providing me my own personal consultant on this matter -as he happens to be a spine surgeon.

I visited my chiro yesterday for an adjustment after my amazing trip to Philly.  I filled him in on what the latest doctor's opinion was, and said I was going to see another surgeon in PHX that my brother recommended.  My chiro said, "You know, brothers are always overcautious and want to believe the very best at all times..." hinting that it is pretty much pointless to go see the second surgeon.  I just cocked my head and said, "You know, out of the SIX medical professionals involved in this right now, only ONE has ever taken a beating for me.  So he is the one I know, no matter what, is thinking about what is best for me."

This is all scary to me.  I have more questions than answers and lots of people throwing opinions and advice and telling me about how miracles are always possible and no one can really predict the course of things, etc. ad nauseum.

What I know and experience every single day is the agony I call "The First Five Steps Out of Bed" followed by "Accidentally Landing on My Left Foot Too Hard."

As I was telling my trainer about my new set of limitations, I could FEEL the fear like a creeping spider weaving its web around my brain.

As I started my car to head in to work, a song by Casting Crowns was on the radio, and this was the exact line it started on:

And the Voice of Truth tells me a different story,
And the Voice of Truth says, Do Not Be Afraid.
And the Voice of Truth say, This is for My glory;
out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth.

So.  I will not be afraid. And no matter how this all turns out in the next few months and years, this is certainly not the end of the story.

Thank You to the Red-Headed Young Woman in Sprouts

After off-and-on sleep, I was jarred awake just before noon by my phone reminding me I was supposed to be in the car on my way to meet a friend for lunch.  I flew into clothes and shoved Roxy unceremoniously into the garage and drove like a demon. 

Whew! I was groggy and still exhausted, but I was at least present and only 15 minutes late.

After our lovely lunch during which I consumed an unholy amount of coffee, I decided to run over to Sprouts and get some more chocolate covered almonds from the bulk food section. The store was VERY crowded. I was very tired. I decided since I was just getting one thing, I would be fine.

I successfully got a couple scoops into the plastic bag, pulled the tab to write the number onto said tab but the pen-on-a-rope was running out of ink.  I tried to use part of the crate display next to it to get legible script.

I gently shoved the display pile of sesame-covered-somethings just hard enough to cause several of the packages to crash to the floor, one exploding in seemingly slow motion in a truly spectacular fashion.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

I sighed, plopped my purse on the ground and started crawling around amid the crowded shopping carts to gather up all the little sesame-covered-somethings that seemed to multiply upon impact.  I got glares from other impatient shoppers.  I was proud of myself for resisting the urge to simply sit on my behind and cry.

As I continued to clean up my mess, I saw out of the corner of my eye a small red-headed young woman with a knit cap kneel next to me to help me scoop up it all up.  She looked like a college student.

"Thank you," I muttered, feeling grateful but mostly feeling embarrassed and tired.

She smiled brightly, "No problem, I drop things and make messes all the time.  No big deal."

I know I didn't smile, I was too focused on feeling miserable to do anything other than nod soberly.  She chatted a bit, very friendly, and together we quickly finished.  Before I could say thank you again, she had disappeared.

I took the food that had been on the floor to a Sprouts employee, explaining what it was.  My intended purchase was left behind as I fled out the door.  I was just too close to tears to risk standing in the check-out line.

Once I got to my car, I thought about how kind that young woman was.    I wished I had been more openly grateful.  Hopefully she realized my silence was about being embarrassed, and not ingratitude for her help.

So, whoever you are -and maybe we will run into each other again some day- thank you.

Brave

One of the most amazing and inspiring women I have ever met, Stephanie, and I discussed bravery a bit the other day.  Stephanie recently made a video about her own experiences growing up in a violent household, including the murder of her mother by her father.  She made the video to encourage people in violent situations to get the help they need to save themselves.

She is one of the bravest people I know.  I told her that and she asked me why.  I, of course, responded, that you were so vulnerable and honest and open in that video.  That is scary to share so much of yourself to help other people.

She responded, very soberly, I thought I was brave to make the video because my father is still alive, not in jail, and I am still scared of him 40 years later.  It doesn't make sense, but I am.

Yes.  It isn't really rational, considering the man's age and general lack of opportunity for revenge. Fear is rarely rational.  She knew I understood.  Her bravery became even more inspiring. 

Sometimes people who have seen the absolute worst of humankind know exactly how cruel people can be to each other, and how easy it can be to descend into that pit.  That kind of fear -the fear of somehow being hurting and helpless again- (and that isn't even exactly what I mean) is very hard to release when you take it in as a child.  How you grow and learn to be in the world is shaped by that evil.  You heal from it more and more every day, but healing is a very long and very intentional process that is impossible without grace.

"Brave" takes many forms.  Brave is making a good life for yourself no matter your roots.  Brave is being in loving and healthy relationships. Brave is doing the hard work to let go of anger, hatred, fear, revenge.  Brave is knowing that nothing outside yourself can ever EVER diminish your value.  Brave is being honest always.  Brave is taking responsibility for your own growth.  Brave is finding your voice and using it in love.  Brave is choosing love and forgiveness and compassion.

Under any of those definitions, she is possibly the very bravest person I know.

And here is the link to her video, so you can help spread the word to end domestic violence now:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wn3_0fhspn8&feature=em-share_video_user 

Trust, Peace, Sugar

I really am blessed with my friends.

In DEALING with life and all the things it can throw at you, I have been surrounded by love and reassurance.

One friend has called me every day to pray with me.  One friend is always there for me, even though she is dealing with some major stuff right now, one being her husband recovering from a heart attack.  Yesterday I had a long, heart-cleansing talk with a friend who really GETS it, and who reminded me to trust... Trust God who up to this point has taken VERY good care of me... Trust that the people who love me will be there for me... Trust that my needs will continue to be met... Trust that I can face each day's issues with serenity and faith...

Yesterday my BFF and I planned our "BFF" tattoos.  I had my Camino tattoo done. Had a great therapeutic massage.

This morning, my trainer and I talked about God, and he also reminded me about Trust and prayer and letting God be WITH me in all of this, not just a distant resource to rail at.

So, every day I am getting back to the basics of living the day I am in, resting in God's peace, taking care of my body as it most needs and connecting with loving and supportive people.

As you know, my current Be Healthy challenge is reducing refined sugar.  I needed to take teenier baby steps than I had been... so right now I am working on eating sweets only twice a day and only after a meal.  Since it is Halloween, this has been hard and it is not yet 8AM!

Sometimes finding that sense of peace is about really concrete tasks... calling a friend, leaving work at an appropriate time, walking the dog, prepping a healthy meal and eating it in a quiet and pretty place.  We all have the right to spend time and attention on the things that are important to us, with no regard whatsoever to productivity.

Food for thought my trainer gave today... Jesus healed multitudes of people, but then would leave the crowds, go away and pray -leaving some people still sick, some work "undone"- to be alone, with his close friends, or pray or eat dinner. 

Think about that.

Okay, Seriously, I Mean It This Time!

My battle with refined sugar has taken on a greater intensity, mostly because I'm losing.  Okay, to be fair, I only spent one day in battle, then went belly-up and let it trample all over me.

Still, my tenacity is back and so back on my feet I climb for yet another round.

Apparently, refined sugar can be blamed for excess weight, lowered immunity, low energy, and possibly the struggling economy.  I want none of THAT!!

I'm not completely swearing off refined sugar.  I've gone cold turkey and that never lasts.  I'm on a perfectly sensible plan to wean off of it slowly.  My goals are modest by most standards, yet seem positively Herculean on some days.

My goal:  Get down to one serving per day of refined sugar.  "How hard can that be?" asks anyone who isn't me.

One serving feels like a teaser, frankly.  I have the ability (and tendency) to consume sugar in an amount that would stagger a horse.  My trainer is in awe. My nutritionist is in horror. (She never lets me see the horror full-out, just says, "You know, it might be good to cut back just a smidge and you might feel better and stop crying randomly when your blood sugar drops...")

My most recent excuses relate to adjusting to an emotional roller coaster.  Now that I have adjusted, I don't actually have an excuse for mainlining Reese's Sticks.  As an adult, I do not actually NEED an excuse.  I mean, I am fully self-supporting and if I can afford to eat immense quantities of candy, then that it my busines alone.

Still, once I put it out there that I am trying to reduce refined sugar intake, then I feel somehow obliged to actually make an effort.  And it would be good for me.  Frankly, if somebody said, "Hey, if you eat dead leaves and chewed up pinecones from the yard, you will boost your immunity!" I would at least give it a shot.

Step One:  not limiting AMOUNT, limiting WHEN... ie, only eat sweets as dessert, never on their own or as the main meal.

Step Two: Limiting amount to 2 servings/day, no make-ups.

Once I get there, I will let you know.  So far today, I'm on track!

Betrayed!

Betrayal.  We've all been there.  Heck, even Jesus had His Judas.

And you know what happens when you feel betrayed... you start to think of every single circumstance in which you were let down or led astray or betrayed by the betrayer, and spend a bit of time in thoughts of revenge and hopelessness and anger and grief.  Once you have gone through all of that, you accept it and walk away.

Except, you can't really walk away when it is your body that keeps betraying you.

I received objective evidence recently that my back is messed up six ways from Sunday and I was so angry that if my spine had been a person, I would have punched its throat. Once I got the Big List of Things Amy Can No Longer Do, I threw my hands in the air and howled.  When I got the news that, yes, Amy, there is a surgery in your near future, I sat on my butt and cried.

It. Is. Not. Fair.

While wallowing in my anger, I accusingly brought up every single way my body has betrayed me over the years by not living up to my QUITE reasonable expectations.  As always when we argue, my body just clammed up and got all passive aggressive and obstinately remained silent -and occasionally shot pain like a lightning bolt down my legs to remind me I'm not in charge all that completely.

Grrrrr.  Stupid spine.

I am sure if my body could talk in a language besides pain and pleasure it would have a few things to say about how I can sometimes treat it -ignore it, discount it, ask too much of it, yell at it, give it too little to go on- and then expect it to be in perfect form to meet my needs/wants/whatever. My body might even use the word, "betrayal." Unlike my brain, my body forgives quickly and tries its hardest.

Perspective is a blessing and a curse.

I've been warned not to go too far down the road of anger and resentment on this one. An inevitable effect of being human is that everything has a time and a season and that moving through means moving on -be glad I could do this stuff at one time, and see what new thing comes as a result of being forced to move on. Figure what tattoo I will want over the scar.

I am quite blessed to know a gifted spine surgeon I grew up with and who loves me ('cause, you know, he is my brother) who has helped me understand what is going on and how to pick a good surgeon locally because it is pretty scary to me.

I am quite blessed to have a trainer who is busy thinking of the stuff I CAN do, which is good because for a bit all I could see is what I can't do.

I am quite blessed to have excellent health insurance and sick day benefits and an understanding boss, so my job and financial security are not in jeopardy.

I am blessed to live in a small city that has loads of physical therapists to choose from.

Oh, yeah, that trust thing again.  Trust that no matter what happens, God will take care of me, and the future is always brighter than the present.

I guess that lesson will keep coming around until I learn it.

Love, Acceptance, Meaning

Okay. I got nothin today.

One Foot Out the Door

I am still processing the time I had with God on the trip to Santiago.  There are little things happening that are underscoring some of the messages I received from Him while I was there.

Back when I was about 12 years old, a woman came to our Girl Scout troop and among the many other things she said, she said, if you knew that you would not get married until you are 40, what would you do in the meantime? Because that's what you ought to be doing.

I decided to take that attitude and apply it to my life.  I have had one foot out the door since I got here, my personality being what it is.  I was tihnking about when I lived in Winona, MN and how even though I was only there about 2-1/2 years, I felt so much more invested in the community than I am here, so what made the difference?

When I moved to Winona, I intended for that to be my permanent home. I bought a house, got involved in my church, got outside of myself and met a ton of people and participated in the community, not just my job stuff.

Being in Winona didn't work out long term, but I loved that community. I've been floating a bit in the meantime.

I am quite involved in the university community, but I realized I have not invested much in becoming part of the FLAGSTAFF community.  I've been renting for 5 years. (Now, I'm a renter by nature, not an owner, but I admit that I am getting tempted.) 90% of the events I go to are university-oriented.

So, I decided that I will behave as if I am here five more years, at least, take the long range view of things.

If an angel came from God and told me that I would be moving in 5 years, how would I live my life in the meantime?

Well, I just signed up for Spanish lessons.

in-Between-The-Spains Post

So, I've been given an extraordinary amount of time to think the past three weeks, almost an unprecedented amount of time for such activity, really.  It has been a really nice time to just hang out with God, even with the extra coughing and sleeping lately.

And I have reached a few prayerful conclusions.

This past year was a struggle in unexpected ways.  I had made the decision to seek work outside of Flagstaff, and thus limited a few things in my life, including swearing off dating back in March.  Why meet new people if I'm just going to move, you know? I was sick a lot, injured a lot, dealing with some heavy work stuff frequently.  I was overloaded.

So, having some new clarity and peace, I have realized a few things.

First, I'm not going anywhere any time soon.  So, I have to make my life here work for me, just like I had to three years ago when my boss stubbornly refused to let me relocate my position to Phoenix. (I'm very glad, in retrospect, that happened. Best blessing ever.)  Every single amazing job I have investigated over the past year dissipated through various God's Hand ways.

So, I'm here for a purpose.  Flagstaff is not an easy town to live in if you are not from here and are over the age of 30.  But, God brought me here and is keeping me here and until He leads me someplace else (if ever) then this is my home.  I love Flagstaff on so many levels, but sometimes the loneliness is palpable for us single adults.  Still, I'm here, and the only thing I can change is me, so I resolve to actually change a few things.

I've made a few decisions about healthy living but I will give that another blog post once I suss out the details with my team.

The big get-out-of-my-comfort-zone decision is to live like I am actually a part of the Flagstaff community.  I'm not, really.  I'm part of the university community, but that is a very different thing.  But I have some truly wonderful friends here and in general love the people here.  So, I resolve to join some interesting meet up groups, say yes to any and all invitations, keep an eye out for stuff I want to do and then go do it even if I'm doing it by myself.

I did it in Spain.  I can do it in Flagstaff.

So far in this country adult women are not required to have escorts or travel in groups, so I will not allow myself to chicken out of something just because I'd rather be with a friend.  Or to feel sorry for myself for going to Yet Another Thing Alone Because I Couldn't Find Anyone To Go With Me.  It is wearying to always do stuff alone.  But I'm done with feeling sorry for myself about it.

The other decision is to thoughtfully plan out my vacation so I actually use it before I mentally crack up from overwork.  Even if it is just to take a long weekend to work on a sewing project or something, I need mental health time.

These activities aren't a means to a particular goal, except to get the most out of this time we have on earth, before we move to a different room in God's house.

Food, Glorious Food!

This likely goes without saying but the food in Spain is DELICIOUS!!

Beyond that, HOW they eat is delightful.

Just about no such thing as fast food.  Service is slow compared to the US.  They don't hang over you while you eat or make you feel rushed to free up the table.

You sit. Eventually someone asks you what you want. Eventually, it shows up. Slowly, you eat it. Eventually, you ask for more of something or coffee or dessert or for the bill.

NOTHING is rushed.

That took some getting used to.

Cute little breakfast place about 50 feet from the Cathedral in Santiago:

Scheduling took some getting used to.  Even by US standards, I'm an early bird.  That meant starving for a few hours if I didn't plan ahead.  Then many places have an afternoon break, so if you get hungry around 2 pm, you may have a bit of a wait unless you know where the grocery store is (learned that fast!). Restaurants open for the evening meal around 8 at the earliest.

The first two days I ate protein bars and apples until I figured it out and could time it right.

Coffee in Spain deserves its own post, so I'll chat about that later.  Mmmm.  Coffee.
 

But the food was lovely.  I wish I had taken pictures of it.  Spain is a carnivore's delight.  If it moves and breathes, it can be slapped on a plate.

It took me four days to work up to eating octopus, aka "pulpo."  It is freakin DELICIOUS!  I admit to cutting off the obvious tentacley parts at first, but then they went down with the rest. (Okay, I did shut my eyes.) still, so good!

Breakfast was usually bread, cheese and an apple.  I usually went back for more cheese.  I love cheese and lots of coffee.  Mmm. Coffee.

Lunch was usually something at a bar. The bars there are sort of their version of fast food.  The "menu" was the daily deal... Usually some sort of meat, bread, French fries and dessert. And coffee.  Mmm. Coffee.

French fries were everywhere.  I got really excited when I saw "salad" advertised.  Once I discovered croquettas, I was lost.  Imagine the best mashed potatoes you've ever had, mix in some chopped ham and cheese and garlic, shape into little fingers, then deep fry it.  I could eat myself sick on those things.  And tried!


Not croquettas, but yummy potatoey Spanish omelet:
 

BTW, Spain is a pastry place. I was worried about coming back to the US and not having a daily chocolate croissant for a snack.  Fortunately, Sugar Mamas has my back on the pastry issue.  Many lovely little corner bakeries with all sorts of lovely sweets.  And coffee. Mmm. Coffee.

Dinner was often tapas, which is where the octopus came in.  Many different small plates shared with friends.  Lots of seafood.  Lots of potatoes. Lots of bread. Cheese.  Heaven.  And coffee.  Mmm. Coffee.

A couple nights we stayed in to eat, and found ourselves choosing very simple things, yogurt, apples, bread, cheese... Almost like going back to home base before going out again on a culinary adventure.

In Madrid, we chose the restaurants very simply. We walked around and eventually said, hey, there looks good! Half the time we weren't sure what we were ordering until it showed up.  Thankfully it was always edible.

There were so many different things I tried, being a fan of food in general and a pretty adventurous eater, that I can't possibly put it all in a blog post.  And all of it was eaten increasingly slowly.  What normally is an interruption to my work -bolting down fuel- became something to be savored and even cherished, sharing delicious food with good company, even when I was sitting alone.

But seriously, the food was amazing.  And the coffee.  Mmm. Coffee.

Random-ass photo of Melinda and me in the hotel garden, cause, you know, why not?
 

Adventures in Espana

Wow. Spain was awesome. I had a wee bit of anxiety heading over because aside from the menu at Mexican restaurants, my command of the Spanish language is NADA.  However, it turns out hand signals are universal, and when words were absolutely necessary, it worked out fine.  Plus, everyone I met was so crazy nice it was almost suspicious!

There were some amazing high points... Being at my first Pilgrim's Mass where they swing that huge censor and the Cathedral fills with incense and my eyes filled with tears, sitting on the point of the Playa da Morte in Finisterre and contemplating the enormity and smallness of the world, sobbing in front of the Goya Black Paintings at the Prado because you just HAVE to when you see them, seeing my friend Melinda in the Cathedral and sobbing again with this mutual BIGNESS OF GOD we both had experienced, seeing my beloved Hope and Rob in Madrid and doing some more crying.

I'm beginning to wonder why I fell in love with a place where I cried so much!!

Sometimes, you have to give yourself some space and time to allow yourself to be moved.

One time I went to the Art Institute in Chicago and had a whole afternoon to myself.  I love the Chagall window and decided I was going to sit and just LOOK at it until I did not see one more new thing.  This meditation lasted three hours.

It takes time to see, like to have a friend takes time.  Georgia O'Keffe said that so don't go thinking I've gotten profound on you.

I had two weeks to just SEE and be with God.  This kind of peace gives you a clarity you won't see unless you take that time.  And two weeks doesn't completely unwind anyone.

I had a chat with a priest while I was there in Santiago.  After he consulted with God, he shared that God really just wants me to be at peace, that God just wants to BE with me, and that does not require any sort of special trip. There will be other challenges, and God will be with me through them. I am his beloved daughter, and He just wants me to be at peace in Him.

I have no doubt in my mind that God did speak directly to him to tell me that. I also know that that simply requires me keeping space open in my life to just rest in His peace... No schedule, agenda, or thing to be accomplished. Just Be.

It is a rare treat to have two weeks of relatively unstructured time. Even being back a few days I'm struggling a bit to make the time.  It isn't that my schedule is so full, being home sick and all.  It is the number of distractions and things to get done, etc.. That's normal life.

But I do have the clarity and peace I was missing for a while, and that is an excellent foundation from which to grow in His love.

Spanish Inquisition -at Random

Oh, how I have missed my blog!  I entirely filled a paper journal, but it wasn't the same. It was slower.

SO, I will be blogging about Spain and the AWESOMENESS I experienced there... but first, I wanted to share one of my journal entries from my visit to Fisterra, formerly known as Finisterre, because at one time, it was the end of the known world. The westernmost point is the Playa da Morte, which is the historical end of the pilgrimage of the Camino de Santiago.

So, that day (I personally took a bus to Fisterra from Santiago, and only walked the part from the town to the point, which is maybe two miles? Maybe?) as I sat looking out at the ocean and chillin with God, I flipped open my Bible to random point, as I am wont to do, and here is the fruit of that.

John 14:1-4

Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God, trust also in me.  In my Father's house there are many rooms, if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.  You know the way to the place where I am going.

TRUST TRUST TRUST TRUST

God, You know what is in my heart and what Your plan is for my life.  Help me to love Your plan, whatever it is and whatever it means for me.  I will TRUST that even if I die alone You will always be with me and never forsake me or leave me to face my perils alone.  I don't have to understand what is going on to love You and trust You and hope in You.  Blessed be Your Name.

Sucking Eggs

So, last week sucked eggs.

Let us just put it out there.

Sometimes, life sucks eggs.

I haven't blogged in a while just because everything I wrote was an extended whine.

"Suck it up, Princess, everyone's got problems."

I am by nature a risk taker.  I am brave.  I am also impulsive which can be a bit of a reckless combination.

Last night, the sensible part of my brain tried everything to talk me into staying.  It reminded me I love my job, have great friends here, and am leaving for an amazing trip to Spain in, like, four days.  It reminded me that just "up and leaving" any given situation never really RESOLVED anything, just left a lot of loose ends blowing in the breeze.

The rest of me didn't care.  The rest of me pulled out a suitcase and started stuffing it with clothes and some pictures.  Roxy's overnight bag was stuffed with her toys, meds and food.

THIS CLOSE to throwing it all in the car, leaving a note for my landlord to sell everything and keep the proceeds for next month's rent in lieu of 30 days notice and just drive.  Text my boss from God knows-where to let him know I was never, ever returning.

That may seem a bit extreme.  Having done it before, I promise you, it actually feels pretty damn freeing.

Last night was one of those nights where my overwhelming emotion was feeling trapped, stuck, going nowhere I want to be, fast.  I know why.  This last week sucked eggs and was topped by finding out that a job I dared to REALLY REALLY want and would have been AWESOME at was given to someone else due, basically, to politics.

The sensible part of my brain wasn't cutting through the adrenaline.

So, God saw His favorite daughter was about to make a poorly-thought-out decision with significant ramifications, so decided to directly intervene.

"Well, Beloved, let's start from the beginning.  I don't mind repeating Myself.  I love you. You are here for a purpose.  I'm not going to tell you what it is.  You are getting to learn about trust."
"You and I will have 10 or so days together, just the two of us, really, plodding along the back roads of Spain.  I love you.  You will remember how to listen."
"You made promises to Me I expect you to keep.  This isn't for My sake.  You've had a lifetime of drifting around like dandelion fluff.  Here's something new for you -sticking around and seeing something all the way through.  I love you.  Right now, you are going to learn how to stay."
"So, keep that bag packed because you are going to need most of it for Madrid. And stop sulking.  You probably won't ever actually understand why this is necessary.  And that doesn't matter.  I love you.  Learn to live in the mystery."

"I hate this.  This all sucks eggs.  I've never in my life been so You-damned alone!"

"I know."

"That's it??  That's all you got for me??"

Apparently, yes.  The irony of my ingratitude about it has not escaped me.

Maybe when I remember how to listen, He'll tell me more once I'm on the Way.  Or not.  He is a bit unpredictable.

Fresh Ink

Even though it is only Tuesday, this has been the longest week in the whole history of long weeks.  Most of this is work related.

Still, I had some bright spots.  I spent a lot of time walking around campus and taking deep breaths.  My asthma has gotten aggravated the past couple days, but it seems to calm down when I just go take a walk.

Then last night I went and got myself a new tattoo.  Unlike every other tattoo I have, I got this one purely because it was pretty.  There is no layered meaning.  This was the basis for it.

Sometimes, you don't have to be all deep about stuff.

Sometimes, really, all you have to do is look, taste, smell, feel.  Thinking can be overrated.

I have a dear friend, Melinda, who is walking the Camino when I am, and we will be meeting in Santiago and hanging out at the Masses and being church ladies together.  Melinda is an amazing woman.  She reminded me that the Camino is not about pace, but about being with God, no distractions.  She also reminded me not to walk at night because it isn't safe for travelers to do that in places they don't know.  Plus, you can miss the path markings.  She also said what part of church to meet her in when I arrive, because she will be there.

Did I mention she is in her late 60s and just finished chemo for breast cancer about a month ago?  She is not a die hard athlete.  She is simply a woman of faith taking a walk.

I guess we both are.

Foodie Fasting for Syria

Today is an international day of prayer and fasting for Syria and the  Middle East.  If you can read this blog, and thus do not live completely off-grid, you've known this was coming for days.

I am doing this along with millions of other people grieving for Syria and the atrocities in the Middle East.

I am also thus confronted by my quite comfortable Western-style life.

What my fast today looks like is a green shake for breakfast, same for lunch, and a normal vegetarian dinner.  Everyone's fast looks a little different.  Some opt for one normal meal and two snacks.  Some give up coffee.  Some eat nothing at all for the entire day.  The point is to rid ourselves of the extras, make us uncomfortable, take on a wee bit of "suffering" for the sake of being united with our hurting and broken family.  Yup. Even people across the world are part of our responsibility.

As many hymns sing out, the journey makes us one.

What I did not realize is that my Saturdays actually are rather wrapped around food.  Saturday is when I assess my fridge, write down what I need, head to the grocery store, obtaining not only what a need, but a great many "wants."  Since I have more time on the weekends, this is when I actually take time to cook real meals and be a bit fancy.  I go out to breakfast and/or lunch and/or dinner with friends.

As I left the gym this morning, it occurred to me that simply by taking on a fast today, my entire day looks different.

I will wait until tomorrow to go grocery shopping.

I will not go out to eat, or prep anything fancy.

I won't pop by my favorite bakery to get anything sweet to go with my coffee.

So, I have extra time on my hands as well.  What shall I do?

That's the other side of this equation.  Prayer.

Fasting for its own sake is called dieting.  Fasting as an offering is prayer, but being mindful of this call is essential.  Later in the day it gets harder.  Later in the day it will be easier to call on God for help.

Isn't that ALWAYS when we most often find ourselves calling on God?

And so sometimes I think the great game with fasting is not simply that we are uniting ourselves with our suffering family, but are ourselves drawn to the Almighty, from whom we have distanced ourselves through too much ease and comfort.

Tomorrow, I will lay this sacrifice down because I have that choice.

My hope is that my heart and intention stay properly aligned.

Getting My Own Attention

The other day I binged on candy.  This isn't true confessions time, it just reminded me of a few things.

Bingeing is your body's way of shouting, "PAY ATTENTION TO ME!"  I reviewed the episode with kind curiosity (as I have given up self-condemnation for now.) I pondered... Why did I do this?

Having candy around doesn't equate setting myself up for a binge.  If I'm in a good space, I can even have peanut butter cupcakes sitting on my desk and consume them appropriately.  So my initial thought of, "If it wasn't available, I wouldn't eat it" doesn't actually answer the question.

The issue isn't the food itself, it is the thoughtlessness and rapid consumption.  That isn't about enjoying a treat.  That's about getting to a certain state of being.

Yesterday a friend and I had a chat.  As we were talking,  I was finally able to articulate that while I love and embrace CHANGE, I do not like uncertainty.  So, if I was told, "Tomorrow you are moving into a windowless office with a spider problem" I would complain and moan and then adjust and be happy I am closer to the coffee.  If I was told, "okay, we are thinking of moving you to a windowless office with a spider problem, but we aren't sure and the decision is actually out of our hands..." I would chew myself up with anxiety.

And there has been a lot of uncertainty lately.  There are pressures from work, trying to be ready to leave the country for a couple weeks, friends dealing with varying degrees of stuff and the regular life issues: bills, good food choices, delicate discussions, decisions decisions decisions.

So, I came home and instead of addressing my need for comfort and peace and companionship... I settled for candy.  The numbness and slightly ill feeling settled in... And of course I felt worse... None of the stuff weighing on my mind was dismissed and now I was dealing with a tummy ache, too.

So now, I am reminded that despite my best efforts, I have not yet received my Wonder Woman tiara and cape, and even super heroes need downtime.

So my intention for the foreseeable future... for right now, just for today... is to take that moment between an acts and my reaction, sit in that moment, take some deep breaths and give my body the attention it deserves, taking loving care of whatever it actually needs instead of settling for food.

200th Anniversary!

This is my 200th post in this blog!  When I checked the stats (which, honestly, I rarely do!) I have had over 10,000 views!

DUDE!

Thanks for all the kind support and feedback and lovely comments and walking with me on this crazy journey!

Weight Loss is Not Simple Math

My original post was going to be all about rejoicing at finally feeling normal again.  Then I changed my mind.

So, I decided to tell a bit of my "before" story because it seems like a lot of people think that weight loss is an easy formula: exercise more than you eat, and voila! Health and happiness abounds.

EVERYTHING affects weight loss.  My thyroid was all wonky and I tell you, it was pure heartache to eat perfectly, exercise regularly, take my vitamins... and not see the scale budge one pound.  The response from my first doctor was: You are probably eating more than you think you are. 

Except I wasn't.  I wrote it all down, every bite and how much and calories.  I am the first person in line to beat myself up for not being perfect.  If I so much had had a slice of pizza those months, I would have completely blamed my lack of self-discipline.  I tend to be brutally honest about my failings -the emphasis on brutal.

It took getting to a doctor who knew which tests to do for thyroid problems to fix that.  Suddenly, a little pink pill allowed my body to perform its natural balanced function.  I realized my problem was not, and had never been self-discipline.  My doctor herself was a source of encouragement.

So, why was I still abusing food sometimes?  Eating too much, too little, always wrapping it in guilt.  Somehow I had bought into the really stupid and evil notion that if I just didn't need to eat anything at all, then everything would be okay.  In came a wonderful therapist who helped me shed all that crazy-making false identity that kept me not only from merely losing weight, but knowing who I am.

In the middle of this, an amazing registered dietitian who specializes in helping people with eating disorders came into my life and helped me look at food itself in a completely different way.  Food isn't love, but it also isn't merely fuel.  If it was, it would not be a worldwide phenomenon that you share meals with people you love and celebrate with special food.  i still check in with her occasionally sometimes to keep a box around my natural tendency to be scrupulous and perfectionistic, and she reminds me I eat better than 90% of the people she sees, and that no matter how far I think I have to go, I am on the right road.

Almost three years ago I bowed to good advice to invest in myself and a healthy future and started working out with a trainer.  It was a gamble as I had tried out several different trainers before I met him and he was exactly the opposite of what I thought I needed.  And I had NO IDEA how much I needed someone like him in my life.  Despite my ups and downs and moving forwards and stepping backwards and getting sick or hurt and then frustrated with recovery and dealing with all the emotional and mental heavy lifting I had taken on... he is a cheerleader and encourager and a rock and a positive influence and an occasional reality check and reminds me to be kind to myself and look to Jesus.

None of my success in getting healthy happened in a vacuum.  Without the support of dear people (even my amazing massage therapist who gave me roses for my first track practice in a running class!) who believed in me before I could believe in myself and trust in a loving God who is pro-my-life, too... I would still be pushing that rock up a hill, and punishing myself for not succeeding.

Learning to love yourself enough to take good care of yourself requires community, wherever they happen to be geographically located.  I cannot name all the people who have loved me through this because every time I think of the blessing of a particular person, yet another pops to mind.

I've written this topic before, but I really really want to encourage everyone who feels caught in a web of self-shame and uncertainty and compulsive behavior, there is a way out.  Not an easy road, but a true one.

Bless It or Break It

You know how something develops in your life, and you think, hmmm, this could be interesting?  Then, as time goes on, you become slowly, almost unconsciously, more invested.  You start to picture yourself in that place or circumstance.  In a moment of clarity, you realize that that vague interest has turned into a burning WANT and you realize that terrible disappointment could be right around the corner.

It could be a job, or a move, or a promotion or a relationship or any host of things.

So, how do you handle it?

I mean, we all WANT to think we handle this sort of uncertainty with grace and trust.  Surely I am not the only one in the world who handles these sorts of things with less grace than strictly warranted under the circumstances.

My dear friend Lori always prays, Lord, bless it or break it. This is Your decision, not mine.

"But you know, God, I really WANT it!!"  That is exactly the time when I need that sort of holy intervention.  When I want something too badly, I can't see clearly, I ignore red flags, and I simply take the action.

When the anxiety sets in, I have to work Very Hard to not fall back into unhealthy behavior -specifically eating a boatload of junk food and curling up into a corner to obsess.  Sugar/carb cravings are apparently a natural physiological response to stress and the worst thing to actually do to combat it.

What does help?  Eating healthy and exercise -right at the time it is hardest to do.

The Mass readings from this past Sunday focused on the fact that following Christ means striving.  Striving means that just knowing the right thing to do isn't enough -you have to actually do it especially when it seems like the hardest thing to do. 

There are MANY harder things in life than just eating right and exercising, but when the time comes to drink the healthy green shake instead of the salted caramel brownie or tie on those running shoes instead of crashing in front of the TV when every fiber of your being is pleading to numb out, those choices can seem positively Herculean.

Nothing worth having is easy.  Whether that is living a healthy life or striving for truth or standing up to something that is wrong or living with necessary uncertainty for a while, being called to a higher way of life is not the comfortable road.

It is a simple way, not the easy way.

Near Occasions Of Sin

Nothing like dramatic license, right?

Anyway, the best way I've found to stick to food plans and performing exercise plans is to add a simple tool to the toolbox: avoiding temptation.

As Catholics, we call this avoiding near occasions of sin.  For example, if you struggle with sleeping around, stop going to hook-up bars.  If you struggle with lying, take moment to think through what you are about to say and acknowledge to yourself it is untruth then either shut up or tell the truth.  If you struggle with impure-thoughts-leading-to-impure-actions -well, no one's come up with a good resolution to that.  St. Paul just told us to all get married.  Thanks for nothing, dude.

So, I have FB "liked" various restaurants and bakeries I enjoy.  So, every day, I am treated to pictures of delicious, devourable treats.  I have friends who post Pinterest pics of delicious, heavy food.  I look at these while drinking my delicious green shake.  While the sanctimonious feeling is somewhat sustaining, it pales in comparison to the thought of peanut butter brownies topped with marshmallow goo.

Oh, yeah.

I'm being relatively successful weaning myself off the mac-n-cheese-and-pudding-cup diet I was on while ill. 

Still. Brownies. Dang.  Because I LOVE my friends, I do not repost or share temptations.  (I also do not post, share, or "like" any motivational memes that only show body parts instead of the whole person.  My own personal war against objectification of humans.)

So, I grab at any straw to stay on the wagon, and today a friend posted a really delicious looking healthy recipe.

http://civilizedcavemancooking.com/entrees/beef/sweet-potato-breakfast-skillet/

Since it has all my fav things, I am going to try it.  Probably not better than impure-thoughts-leading-to-impure-actions, but likely to be tasty AND fulfill my needs to feel superior.

Not Pretty Enough

This morning at the gym, we were talking about weightlifting.  I shared that when I'm working out by myself, I go lighter than I do with my trainer, because I'm worried I'll drop a weight on my head and sustain a traumatic brain injury and be confined to a nursing home forever and and not be able to communicate except through drooling.  Then I quipped, "I need my brain! I'm not pretty enough to make a good living with my body!"

Ringing through the locker room came a voice, "Don't SAY that!  You are gorgeous!  You totally could!!!"

When we stopped laughing, I said, "Well, perhaps I really mean, I'd RATHER make a living with my brain!"

"That's MUCH better!" my gym friend said.  "Don't ever say things like that about yourself!"

My first thought was, wow, she is so sweet!  My next thought was, I didn't really MEAN it.  My third thought was, Well, maybe I did, a teeny wee bit.

Some mornings I wake up and think, Wow, I'm cute!

Other mornings, I wake up and all I see is excess skin and puffiness and everything that droops.  This was one of those mornings.  I didn't want to go work out.  I was running a half hour late and kept thinking, I will barely be able to break a sweat, there is only, like 45 minutes!

After my workout (which focused on core to help my poor struggling lower back) I felt great.  Chipper, even!  Bad mood crunched away.

Then, I could NOT RESIST getting on the scale.  Bad move.  UGH UGH UGH!!!  It did NOT support the glowy feeling which immediately fled.  So I did have some mean/sad thoughts going into the locker room.

What is funny is that not two days ago my trainer and I had a discussion about giving myself more grace, being more compassionate toward myself... making peace with myself, really.  I have conquered quite a bit, and when I only see what is left to accomplish (in my mind) I forget where I started.

Things I Conquered:

1.  Drinking liters of sugary soda everyday
2.  Living off fast food
3.  Alternating no exercise at all with a punishing level of physical activity
4.  Shame and guilt from life stuff with which I had no actual fault
5.  Eating disorders/ self harm
6.  Beating myself up over stupid stuff (mostly :-) )
7.  Needing to fix situations over which I have no control
8.  Abusing food to numb out from the world
9.  Hiding behind excess fat and baggy clothes
10. Feeling like life is simply something that happens and I have no choices
11.  Feeling like I am not supposed to be alive
12.  My value lies only in my productivity and not being a burden, ever, on anyone
13.  Feeling unsafe in most situations
14.  Mostly feeling ugly and being scared of being too pretty.
15. An insane amount of irrational fear

because I took all the little steps and prayed and TRIED and sometimes won the big battles and sometimes had to pick myself up and start again, and again, and exercised faith that God loves me enough to help me heal.

Things I have allowed in because there was room once I released all that garbage:

1.  Accepting that I am supposed to be here, simply by existing
2.  The truth I am loved -by the Trinity and by other people- unearned, a gift
3.  Being inspired by others, instead of irritated and jealous
4.  Understanding that I count, too -I have a right to meet my own needs, to express my preferences and opinions, to set boundaries with others
5.  Confidence that I am safe in most situations -I have good "spidey sense" and can leave uncomfortable places and people, and most people are kind and not judgmental or critical or violent
6.  Enough self-love to treat myself with care and take loving care of myself -healthy food, exercise, peace of mind
7.  Self acceptance
8. More faith, hope, love, trust
9.  Allowing everyone else to be themselves and be on their own journey
10. Owning my own strength -inside and out
11.  Knowing I'm beautiful, and being okay with that.
12.  Allowing myself to be imperfect, tired, slow, achey, sick, in pain, running late... and knowing it is simply the "now," not the "forever."
13.  Knowing I am both blessed and blessing, wanted, cared for and able to carry Light to others.

"When Bad Attitudes Happen to Good People" -Or "My Attitude Adjustment"

"Whether you think you can, or think you can't, you're right."

Normally, I dislike platitudes such as the above that try to over-simplify the messy process of being human.  I mean, I THOUGHT I could walk a half mile to a meeting I didn't want to drive to two days after spending the night in the emergency room.  Turned out, I was quite mistaken.  While walking back to my office, I had to stop twice to rest or risk passing out.  TWICE.  In a HALF MILE!  PASSING OUT!!

Still, I have to admit that this platitude hits a wee bit closer to home than I would like right now.

I have been looking forward to walking the Camino de Santiago since January when I bought my plane ticket to Madrid.  When I got sick last month, what with the recovery stymieing my Wolverinelike healing capabilities, doubt and anxiety crept in.

Being sensible, I'm putting together a Plan B for the remote possibility I won't have the stamina to walk for six or so hours a day.

Plan B began to seem more and more like a certainty that simply fed into the fear that despite all my best efforts, my physical abilities will be too limited to make my dream a possibility.  Just thinking about it made me tear up... and mentally give up.

Exhaustion does that to me.

I got a TOTAL shot in the arm last Friday however, when a friend came up from the Valley for a presentation on the Camino.  We had a nice crowd, some of whom had already walked it.  Listening to everyone's stories got me re-inspired. 

After the talk, I was chatting with one of the peregrinas, and shared my fear of not being able to complete the walk, even though I am starting close to the end (more due to time I have to take off work than anything else.)  I have felt a bit, shall we say, WEAK, for starting "only" about 120 km from the end.

When I hesitantly shared my plan with this woman who has walked 300 miles or so, several times, on the Camino, I waited for the usual response, "OH! Is there any way you can make it longer?"

Instead, she said, "That is a LOVELY place to start!  It is so beautiful! and you will be going at the best time of year -not too hot, not too cold, and not too crowded!"

When I shared my fear about my ability to walk so far, given my slow return to what is normal for me, she just smiled almost affectionately and said, "This is NEVER about how many miles you can do in a day.  Stay away from people who make this about being tough and fast and all that.  Go slow, take your time to notice the things around you and rest when you need to and stop when you need to -or just want to!  It's about YOUR Camino, not any one else's.  It isn't about physical strength. It is just putting one foot in front of the other on whatever path you alone are walking."

As her kindness sunk into my brain, I realized that somewhere along the line, I had turned this intended spiritual journey into a performance-based activity.

I know. Go figure.  Makes me shake my head and chuckle at myself. I mean, this is just something I DO, completely unintentionally yet oh-so-consistently.

I am setting my intention toward my Camino to simply show up, begin the walk, and remind myself until it really sinks in and takes hold, that it isn't about speed or distance, but the simple experience.

Motivation and Exhaustion

Well. Life. So.

Patience is not my strong suit.  Apparently God wants me to gain this skill.  He is giving me lots of opportunities to get practice.

I am one of those fools who REALLY BELIEVES that if you work hard, you see the results.  Figure out the formula, and you will find the solution.  Consistency is key.

Projects requiring long term consistency are not my strong suit.  Powering through a few sleepless nights to get something done on a deadline is where I shine.

Small daily decisions are the key to ultimate success.  The hardest decisions for me to make at the time they must be made are:

1.  Exercising when that means getting up before dawn
2. Choosing healthy food when I'm tired or emotional or feel overwhelmed
3. Pushing myself to go a bit farther, pick up a bit more weight, do one more rep, when I haven't seen results in a long time and are doubting that any will ever happen no matter what I do
4. Planning ahead for good food, time to exercise, etc., when my personality tends to prefer spontaneity.

Motivation is such a slippery little thing.  It is very motivating when you are seeing results, feeling great, energy is coursing through your veins.

But when you are exhausted, recovering from an injury or illness, overwhelmed by your daily tasks, and/or haven't seen anything that has felt like success in too long, what is it that really motivates you?

For me, right now, it is faith.

Walking by faith, not by sight.

Walking this strange, unlit path God has set out for me.

Taking the next step, making the decision in front of me, sometimes making good choices, sometimes not, always relying on mercy.

No Flaming Food!

So, in the interests of taking a more holistic approach to my ADHD and asthma issues, I met with Jo The Fabulous Registered Dietician to discuss nutrition.  Anti-inflammatory food is the plan.

She had fabulous ideas, mostly around the disheartening information that my current main food source  (refined sugar) does not help either condition very much.  Increase omega3, decrease omega-6, I can try eliminating dairy, but that isn't actually necessary.  Got the food lists and talked about ideas for alternatives to candy, mostly which consisted of adding Nature's Candy, ie, fruit.

But since Jo is just about the most positive and encouraging human I have ever met, she added, "You know, you were really, really sick, and that takes a lot out of you.  Yes, you have emptied Target of their Reese's Cups inventory, but don't be so hard on yourself.  Let's focus less on eliminating sugar, and more on adding in more veggies and fruit, and you will naturally wean off the sugar."

She added, "Don't  set yourself up for failure by expecting perfection.  Let's release all the guilt and negativity about any food at all.  It's not worth the mental anguish.  It is just food."

Having very little patience with myself when I am not at full production speed, this reminder is both disheartening and necessary.  I wanted her to say, here, eat this and you will feel so much better.

That isn't how this works.

As I prep for my trip to Spain, one of the things I have had to release to the will of God is the very idea of walking the Camino -my whole purpose for planning this trip! I am exhausted and easily become too tired to simply walk a mile,much less 12-15 for days at a time. In five weeks either I will be capable of the walk or I won't.  I will show up in Spain and figure it out.  I release myself from a performance based vacation.

I promised myself and God to act like I love myself, and I would never bully and push someone I love to do something they just couldn't do at the moment, for whatever reason, physical, mental, emotional. 

Part of this love is to take loving care of myself, eat well, build my strength, and just show up.

Untying Knots

The book, The Weird Sisters, has a line near the end of the book:  ...We had not realized, until that moment, how much Rose gave up for us, and it was up to her to reach down to the ground and untie herself in order to float free to the sky...

I cried when I read that. 

Rose is the sister who made sure everything turned out okay for everyone else, made sure that the other sisters had enough to eat, and proper clothes and handled all the emergencies.

I totally identified with her.  Through the whole book I was willing her to SEE that she had taken on that role and she could walk away.... But she didn't realize it herself until one day, she did something with no reference to anyone else, not sure she could do it... And it set her free.

I understand her insecurity with this idea that her sisters and parents were grown ups and they would manage without her.  What do you DO with yourself when your life is actually your own?

How do you live your life when you decide that YOU matter too -not as the solution to a problem, but because you simply are.  Your purpose is to be.  Your life is yours to live.

You are the only one who can live it.  You are the only one who knows whatever the song is in your heart and you are the only one who can do all the scary things it takes to live in the truth that you matter too.  The song in your heart matters because it is Your Song, unique among all universes.

This untetheredness is not comfortable.  Freedom is freakin scary, actually.  When it occurred to me that I can, quite literally, do anything with my life I want to, move anywhere, take on almost any job, the sheer number of choices brought me to my knees.

I am free.

No excuses for not living the life God has planned for me.

I have managed to undo the knot.

Side FX

I'm no big fan of pills.  Heck, even for basic nutrition, I prefer to get it from food as opposed to supplements.

So, as I lay dying (I felt) for two weeks, and was on a host of different meds to deal with whatever this problem was (infection morphing to God Knows What sort of dizzy/fainting spells) I kept thinking, "I am too young and too healthy to be taking all these pills!"  Beyond depression, I was frankly suicidal.

Once I was coherent enough to string words together, I pulled all my meds together and started doing some research. What I found frankly astonished me.

Not one med was contra-indicated for another.  Okay, Good first step.  Then I started compiling a list of side effects.

THREE of the meds (two I normally take plus one of the extras for my special week!)) indicated dizziness and possible fainting as a side effect.  Okay I sort of expected that.  I knew whatever this thing was, it was outside myself.

The one that astonished me was the Montelukast (Singulair for those who watch TV!)  I have asthma which is greatly exacerbated by living at 7,000 ft.  When I go to coastal cities, I do not need so much as my rescue inhaler.  Here, I take three meds to deal with the breathing, and I'm not convinced the Singulair helps.

As many of you know, I struggle with depression and occasional suicidal thoughts.  This past year saw no fewer than four separate episodes of suicidal ideation.  That is a record.  I haven't had even one serious episode for at least a decade or more before this past year.  I went on anti-depressants in February to deal with this, and then had to "up" my ADHD meds again and again to deal with the side effects of the anti-depressants.  I chalked all this up to emotional heavy lifting.

Until I saw that Singulair lists as a side effect depression and suicidal thoughts.

Well, F$%& me.

I started taking Singulair about a year ago.  The depression and spiraling dark thoughts started deepening about a month later.

What if all the torture of this past year wasn't some irreparable place inside me, but a "mere" side effect of a medication?

What if, by stopping one medication, I can stop one other, and greatly reduce the need for a third?

So, I stopped taking the Singulair.  I have been off the meds for the infection for about a week now.  I can't just stop taking the anti-depressant because it can cause a boomerang effect, but fortunately I am meeting with my doctor in a couple days to discuss this with her.  I stopped the ADHD meds (ADHD is really harder on those around me than me, anyway) just to see what will happen.

I shall keep you apprised as events unfold.

Mass Appeal

I was chatting with a friend this past weekend and he mentioned that some friends who moved to town were looking for a church home, especially since they had a close knit church in the city they were moving from.  He put it this way:  "They had a good group of folks to live their lives with."

As I sat at Mass this morning, I pondered that statement.  I think nothing underscores the fact that the current place I live is not my home than that simply put statement.

I love our parish and our priests.  In five years, though, I am no closer to making a group of church friends people I live my life with than I was five years ago.  I have actually one close friend i made through jail ministry, and she is so very dear to me I hate to put things in a harsh light at all.

I have lived in towns smaller than this one, and cities much, much larger.  In most places I have been very involved in parish life, serving as a lector, Eucharistic minister, starting singles groups, serving on the liturgy committee, volunteering for lots of stuff.  Here, no matter how I have tried, there has only been two activities that have led me to greater relationship with those around me - jail ministry and attending Mass.

Jail ministry has introduced me to some great folks, but with one notable exception mentioned above, no one to simply hang out with and live in faith and relationship.  Mass reminds me every single weekend that the purpose of Mass is worship of God and the Eucharist, and not about hanging out with friends.  The painful reminders usually come as the people around me greet each other as old friends, and are very nice to me, but that about the extent of it.  Five years of this, and trying very hard to be involved during that time, has led me to simply talk myself into staying through Mass and reminding myself that I'm here for God.  My relationship with God gets better through attending Mass, I chant to myself.

Although I felt sorry for myself at about 10:30 this morning, I don't feel sorry for myself now.  I really believe that when you are in the right place for you, God puts the people in your life to support whatever your mission is there.

This beautiful area has been a safe, sheltering place to heal and to learn how to love myself and be okay being alone.  God put the people in my life to learn how to be healthy and sufficient in myself.

He never meant for me to live here for ever.  The people and things that cause one to take root in a community are simply not here -not the least of which is a community of faith in which I can fully participate and feel attached to.

At first I wondered what was wrong with me, then what was wrong with my parish... and was led to realize that things are exactly as they should be given how life is unfolding.  If I felt this place was one I would reside permanently, then I would not be making any effort to see if I am really where I am supposed to be.

It isn't simply a gypsy heart that calls me toward the horizon, it is God who knows what is already there for me.

Little Bits of God

So, having a lot of time to think can either be a good or a bad thing for me.  Last week, it was bad.  I spent most of the week praying for death and feeling deeply isolated, in pain, angry and frustrated about YET ANOTHER setback.  I bemoaned getting delayed in preparation for my walk on the Camino in Spain.  I worried about work projects with looming deadlines. I fretted about backsliding from not being able to exercise.  Just this morning, as I sat in the doctor's office waiting for test results and more antibiotics, my heart was crying about the injustice of it all.

This week, God decided it was time to cut through the fog.

God Moment #1: in discussing the Camino with someone over the weekend, he asked me how I was preparing.  I launched into the whole walking a lot, gathering necessities, etc, and he interrupted me. "This is a spiritual thing for you, right?  How are you preparing spiritually?"

First time in 8 months anyone has asked me that.  My answer was a sheepish, Not Much.

God Moment #2:  I went to confession on Saturday morning and the very odd penance I received was to pray Psalm 8 for a week, and every time it said "man" or "he" to say  "Amy" or "she."

When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars which you have set in place, what is Amy that you are mindful of her, the daughter of man that you care for her?  You have made her a little lower than the heavenly beings, and crowned her with glory and honor.

God moment #3:  this afternoon I was laying in bed after dear Lori left, and thinking, I wonder if I ought to be praying?  I was sad and tired and felt really foggy.  I saw an incoming call (my ringer was off) and I did not recognize the number.  When I answered it was a guy from a Christian radio station I support, calling to thank me for my support, and asking if there was anything I would like them to pray for. I have never in my life gotten a call from anyone like that. (It was Steve Wright from Family Life Radio, if you are curious.)

Okay, God. I hear you.  It took a deep depression, my back going out a few times, a potentially fatal illness and finally an actual phone call, but I hear you now.

This was never about my tasks at work, the physical effort of the Camino, where I live or how much I work out.  This was always about my relationship with Him that I have been sorely neglecting.

I think He missed me, to go to such lengths to get my attention.

So after the nice man prayed with me over the phone, I got out of bed, walked over to my also neglected art supplies and got started.

My easiest way to pray has always been through art.

For three hours, it was me, God, Psalm 8, some colored pencils and a big sheet of paper.

I forgot how much I missed Him, too.  I did not realize how I had allowed the noise of this crazy life to drown out His voice in my heart.  I did not realize that the person I used to turn to in every moment was shoved away and out, leaving me unstable, shaking, falling.  I did not realize that I had walked away from the heart that was always my home.

I never rejected Him.  I simply let other things, good things, take priority.  My time was full.

I do not think for one moment that it is a coincidence that this lightening bolt struck on the feast day of St. Martha.  You may recall that in her determination to do good deeds, she overlooked that she was in the presence of God who was speaking to her sister, and her, if she would stop to listen.

Without being filled and revived by His love, mercy, peace and wise counsel, good deeds will drain you, life will overtake you, and exhaustion will eventually break you.

Well, it did me, anyway.

Sometimes I drift away from the path and drift back.  Sometimes God says, "Enough!" and yanks me back by my ear.

Oh, Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name through all the earth! 

Heading to Spain?

I have a ticket to fly to Spain and walk the Camino de Santiago in just a few weeks.  I bought the ticket in January and have been thinking about doing it for quite a while before I even bought the ticket.

I do not really know why I chose to do this.  I just know I'm supposed to.

My GOD, this past year has been a challenge.  Okay, two years.  Wellll, closer to three.  Beautiful wonderful things happened.  Some devastating things happened.  I want to be able to pick out a few months where NOTHING dramatic happened, but can't do that.

Between physical issues, health issues, family issues, work issues... this has been a roller coaster.  This last bit with the pain in my jaw being so incapacitating I was plotting my own death, had me just finally say, Really, what I am I thinking??

I do not know the purpose for me walking that pilgrimage.  I do not know why I am drawn to it.

When insecurity takes root and I start to think of all the things that could go horribly awry and that everything is NOT how I want it to be for the starting point (better at Spanish, better at walking long distances, more confident, more...) the ugly thought grows that this was in fact a TERRIBLE flight of fancy and I ought to be sensible, cancel the trip and use the funds for something like retirement.

Yet, there it is.  I am going.

I am going to show up in front of God exactly as I am, however prepared (or not) however messy, however confident, however able, however it is.  God knows EXACTLY what He is getting in this.

God isn't asking me to do this to show how awesome I am at trip planning.  Frankly, I am not sure why He is calling me to do this, but I do hope it will be more clear by the time I return.

So, there I plan to be, my first official step on the Camino somewhere in Sarria, Spain, and walking until it is time to stop.

Here is where the faith, trust and hope stuff comes in.  I just have to show up, in whatever condition my soul and my body and my mind may be in, and as always hand all that over to Him.

He always seems to handle that just fine.