Archives for the month of: December, 2015

“Just eat less.” Yep. Sounds super simple. [Is.] On the other hand…isn’t that a little bit like explaining meditation as ‘just breathe’ to someone who has never tried it? I mean… sure… sort of… but… yeah… there’s actually more to it than that, however simple a practice it actually is. There’s a certain something that exists before one begins… and during… and following up… a certain commitment, a will, and perhaps most importantly, an awareness.

“Just eat less.” A lack of awareness in-the-moment tends to be where I most regularly mistreat myself caloric-ly speaking; I get caught up in some other thing, and eat while I do that, watch that, read that, listen to that…I’m not eating, I’m merely allowing consumption to happen while I do something else. It’s a poor practice, and when I catch myself doing it, I sometimes struggle to make the needed course correction.  In the meantime, I’ve eaten more than I needed for the lifestyle I live. The other common pitfall for me, personally, is that one that crops up when I’m stressed out, blue, or fatigued; some sort of tasty treat can be a mood-lifter, a battery-recharger, or a stress-reducer – but it’s not really ‘taking care of me’ in the best possible way if I am focused on food specifically as a distraction from something that actually matters [to me] more, or taking in surplus calories to change my brain chemistry.

“Just eat less.” Yep. That’s the basic idea. So here I am, the end of a long day – and doing something that I know works for me; I am here, now, doing this. Just this. I’m not eating while I write, nor writing while I eat. Dinner will be ready shortly, and when it is; that’s what I’ll be doing, then. It’s a simple change. It does work very well; I eat less when I eat mindfully (probably because I notice sooner that I have eaten enough). It’s not ‘easy’ – practices require practice.

“Just eat less.” It’s a good idea, one that works, only… how much less? How much… at all? What do I really need to live on? How do I tell if I am eating that much… or more? (Or less?) Will I starve myself unintentionally and suddenly… something? (Doubtful.) One very cool thing about losing weight, though… there are a lot of ways to proceed. There are as many practices as there are people wanting to feel more comfortable in their body. I consider the strengths of the woman in the mirror and return to the very simple practices of strict portion control and mindful consumption. (Admittedly, for me there is a spreadsheet involved, and yes, I am actually planning my meals, and measuring out portions based on weight or volume, depending on the food item.) This works for me, I’ve been here before – by weight, I’ve literally been here before. lol

“Just eat less.” Okay, so… got it. Simple. (Not always easy.) Here’s another irksome detail to consider – and I do find that considering things (mindfully) is helpful – it matters what I eat, too. 1000 calories of potato chips isn’t going to satisfy for long, and I’m pretty sure that taken as a daily staple, my health would quickly fail in some fashion. So, the calories will ideally also meet my nutritional needs – and may need to be overall of consistently better nutritional quality (more nutrition per ounce of intake) to thrive on many fewer calories altogether. It’s doable. It is a practice.

“Just eat less.” It’s all so very simple – and like so many very simple things; it’s not as easy as it sounds. There are all these verbs, and all this practice… mindful eating? Seriously? (Yes.) As practices go, it’s not difficult, or uncomfortable – but there are verbs involved. I find it quite difficult to set all else aside to eat, particularly when I dine alone. I’m inclined to read, or to watch a show – harmless enough, I guess, but however educational or entertaining the programming, it does take my attention from this other very important practice – eating. In my case, it nearly always results in eating way too much, rather too fast – and weight gain seems to  happen so much more quickly than losing weight ever does. Weight gain, for me, does not require mindfulness at all. Weight loss does. The math does itself.

I break for dinner, enjoying each bite of my meal. I taste all the flavors, and enjoy the warmth and texture of the dinner I prepared so carefully, and I take my time enjoying the meal. Each element chosen, quite specifically, even measured for appropriate portion control. (The tablespoon portion of cream cheese on my half of a bagel made me giggle; I had clearly long since forgotten what a ‘serving’ of cream cheese actually looks like.) This is the more difficult bit; resetting my implicit understanding of serving sizes, ensuring I am mindful of quantities, and taking great care with my choices moment-to-moment. It’s easier to be thoughtlessly carelessly feeding myself tasty calories with my eyes closed, than to practice the simple practices that nourish my body, care for my health, and prolong my life.

Welcome home.

Welcome home.

“Just eat less.” That actually is what this is about, and it is what is required to reach my goals. What if I fail? There’s no real ‘failure’ here – and there’s no need to treat myself with such callousness; I’m human, if I want a bit of dessert, I assure you I’ll have it. lol Perhaps a smaller than common serving will satisfy? Or a different choice of sweet? Or both? Point being – it’s not an elimination diet for me, I don’t find that behavior sustainable. I choose instead to do what is simple, and hope to practice it until it is also easy – if I falter? I’ll begin again. That’s enough.

I woke early this morning, but refreshed and rested. I started the morning with meditation and a longer than usual hot shower. I am thinking about a particularly personal ‘math problem’ this morning, while I wait for hot water to become coffee. I am, in fact, thinking about a ‘math problem’ a lot of people deal with, in a lot of different ways, and hoping that being in this healthier place puts me on the path to a healthier solution. I am heavier than I’d like to be, and it affects my health, my fitness, my comfort with myself, my comfort with my appearance, and silly small things like whether or not my favorite jeans fit. (Wake up call: they do not.)

I moved into Number 27 as a size 14. I’m a size 16 now – and I’ve been much bigger in years past – and much smaller in years still further in the past than that. I’m kind enough to myself these days to refrain from tearing myself down over gaining some weight, but I’m also done making any sort of excuses about it, because that’s not one of the steps on the path to meeting my fitness goals, or taking care of me. It’s honestly not a complicated process to lose the weight; I need far fewer calories than I am consuming, and consuming fewer calories, over time, will result in weight loss. Boom! Math homework finished! Now on to the biology, and physics of the thing – which require verbs – and the psychology of it, too (yes, still more verbs). Actual self-restraint, actual commitment to practices being practiced, and following a plan, a path, and making that journey… Sounds so easy as words  on a page… It’s still pretty simple stuff in the abstract, but whole industries exist because humans are poor at these simple practices, and good at reaching for shortcuts.

After my long hot shower I resumed a practice I had dropped without noticing, one I find helpful with regard to maintaining a healthy weight; I spent time looking at my body. Not berating myself for being fat, no criticism, no hostility, I just took a few minutes to really see myself – curves, fat, lines, silhouette, shape, where things are tighter, where things still sag from losing weight over time – just a few very real minutes, while also acknowledging how well this body serves me, and how much I have put it through over the years. I run my hands over curves that please me most, and those that please me least. I make a point of being grateful for how much I get done in this body, and how far I have come with it – in some cases, real mileage, on feet. I take time to ensure I feel loved by the woman in the mirror – and she feels loved by me. (No, we’re not separate people; it’s allegorical of the mind-body separation we so often seem to experience, that’s all.)

I’ve missed the day-to-day encouragement and reinforcement I got living with my traveling partner; when we met we were both working very hard to get fit and lose some weight, and it was a joy to share that journey, because we treat each other well, and with consideration and respect. We took time every day to notice progress and offer loving encouragement, and compliment each other’s physical beauty as we experienced it; encouragement is a far less damaging form of motivation than criticism. I do miss that, but it doesn’t make sense to let the pounds pile up waiting for more. So, before a size 16 becomes a size 18, it seems worthy to stop waiting around and grab some verbs.

I’m eating too much for the effort I exert day-to-day. I’m gaining weight so that’s a given. “Eat less and exercise.” There it is – the one sure fire path to weight loss. Fitness requires a bit more – and by fitness I don’t mean ‘big muscles’ or ‘super lean’ or ‘ready for a marathon’; any of those things may require fitness, but fitness does not require that those things be among my goals. 🙂  ‘Fitness‘ for the purposes of my discussion here means being at a comfortable healthy weight at which my pain is more easily managed, I feel good, am not prone to weight-related health concerns, I fit in my clothes well, breath and move more easily, and am likely to reach or exceed my maximum actuarial lifespan without suffering from diet/poor nutrition-related ailments. So. More simply? In good health and feeling comfortable with my appearance. There’s no one ‘right’ answer to that math problem.  A good starting point is basic good nutrition.

I am fortunate that I was quite slim for many years, and have a good idea what that looks like on me, and at what weight, and other sizes in between; for now I am shooting for getting my weight below 150 lbs, and being quite comfortable in a size 12. Some of you will read that and think I am not being sufficiently ambitious – others may find that to be a pretty aggressive goal – I am, myself, hoping to get there by my birthday in June. It’s achievable – but it’s also quite fail-able; there are verbs involved, and some practices, a lot of commitment, and the will to begin again is likely going to be necessary at several points – almost a certainty because I am approaching this endeavor during the holiday season. lol (Did you wonder sooner why I’m not waiting until the new year to start on this? Because life isn’t going to wait with me; I’d keep gaining weight and have to start from an even less comfortable place with myself!)

I am sipping my coffee black, and appreciating the awareness that there is presently no cream, no half-n-half, and no whipping cream on hand; it’s back to black coffee not only in the mornings (when I always drink it black these days) but also when I am enjoying a coffee in the evening (when I often add cream to my decaf…because it’s decaf). It’ll be awhile before that treat turns up in the fridge again. lol It’s those small things – and being consistent with them – that works best for me. My injury is a hurdle here, and saying ‘no’ to food-related impulses requires something more, for me – it requires mindfulness. I allow myself a moment of good-natured humor at myself on this one, and pause to appreciate how many lovely creamy coffee beverages I have enjoyed ever so mindfully…after quickly skipping past the moment of mindfulness that would have halted me having it at all, because it was more than I really needed, from the perspective of calories (and sufficiency). Oh, hell yes this path is strewn with debris to step over and around – and life always has more curriculum ready. lol I am still a student, and clearly on this one I need to begin again. Again. 🙂

So it’s back to some basics that ease this process for me; simple morning calories (a small serving of yogurt with a handful of nuts – measured – or oatmeal, similarly portioned out with great care), and no letting myself skip breakfast – the consistency is helpful for me, and also manages my blood sugar more efficiently. This small detail is important – and complicated by not being able to have food for about an hour after my morning medication. Mindfulness really matters. (Setting an alarm as a reminder helps, too.) Measured calories from that point each day, focusing on whole healthy foods, limiting dairy and sugar, and serving with a generous helping of mindfulness, even encouraging myself to stop eating sooner and avoiding the sensation of ‘feeling full’. It gets harder in the evening, after work. I find myself relaxing and munching more often than is healthy for the amount of physical work I do each day. There’s really only one answer to this one for me, generally; “no”. Mindfulness is the win here, too; being awake and aware and able to refrain from taking that next step to the kitchen takes practice, mindful practice, committed practice, and a connection between this moment now, and the actions needed to meet my needs over time. So…still easier on paper, and as a thought-exercise, than in practice…which requires practice. 🙂

Time isn't waiting for me on this one. :-)

Time isn’t waiting for me on this one. 🙂

Today is a good day to begin again. Today is a good day to love the woman in the mirror, at any weight. Today is a good day to be real – and be okay with reality, too. Today is a good day to walk another mile in my own shoes, and enjoy the journey; it has no destination other than to take the damned journey. 😀 I’m ready to walk on.

 

This weekend I didn’t chase anything, didn’t force anything, didn’t insist on anything, didn’t apply pressure to myself, my experience, or my time. I suppose I could have. I could have gotten very stressed out about finding just exactly the perfect finishing touch Giftmas gift for my traveling partner, and blown my weekend on an unhealthy bit of hysterics when inclement weather messed with my plans. I could have held on to an assortment of assumptions and expectations of the weekend, and found myself facing Sunday with bitter regret – for both the things that did not happen, and the behavior that did. I didn’t do those things.

Instead, I allowed the weekend to simply take its course, embracing events as they occurred, and making the proverbial lemonade where lemons seem to have been provided…although…sitting here sipping on a tangerine mocha, made with fresh-squeezed tangerine juice from tiny sweet juicy tangerines so perfectly ripe they were not going to keep over days of eating, it’s hard to taste lemons. I made a fire in my fireplace, last night. I made another today, and contentedly kept it going through the gray rainy afternoon; it crackles in the background now. It’s been a weekend of contentment and satisfaction. It’s been lovely in spite of the rain.

Welcome in my own experience.

Welcome in my own experience.

The weekend is almost over, and a new work week unfolds ahead of me – the last before the Giftmas holiday. I’ll be out of the office for a few days (the week of Giftmas), and for a few days the next week, too. I pause, for a moment very aware how badly I really need this rest. I recognize that I am tired on a number of levels. This was an emotional year with a lot of complexity and change, and there is much to consider about the year to come. For now, I am content with contentment and that is enough. I sip on my mocha, making a mental note to finishing putting away the laundry that finished up just before dinner. Dishes, too. A box by the front door is my reminder in the morning to take it to the recycling bin; it arrived late in they day, during the pouring rain, and I didn’t take it straight out as I ordinarily might.

I've been very busy relaxing.

I’ve been very busy relaxing.

The evening is a quiet one. The lifestyle, too, is a quiet one. I’m not sure I knew sooner that this is what would suit me so well, when I looked ahead from many years younger. The mundane details aren’t dull to live; it’s peculiarly difficult to describe the luxury of hot laundry pressed to my chest as I dash back to my apartment in the rain, or the deep-down relaxation of finishing yoga and relaxing with my feet near the fire… just… relaxing, head back, gazing into the lights of the Giftmas tree… or emoji smiles and kisses from a partner I know is busy with other things, but values me such that taking the time is worth it, throughout the day.

This is a quiet life, and rich in excitement, delight, pleasure, contentment, joy, wonder…and moments of pure humanity; the difficult bits provide perspective, and comparison – reminders not to take what is so good for granted, not even for a moment. So… I enjoy the quiet weekend wholly and without reservations or concern, or trying to make it something more… or something less. More and more I am finding poetry in the ordinary, and lifetimes of love in moments of joy. Yes, there are verbs involved, and practice. I’m okay with that; I’m okay right now.

Small details are meaningful when we take time to notice them; small pleasures can fulfill our needs when we take time to enjoy them.

Small details are meaningful when we take time to notice them; small pleasures can fulfill our needs when we take time to enjoy them.

I don’t think I’ll chase anything today. Living life is enough.

 

What a peculiar day. It’s nearly at an end. I began it well enough, waking from a very restful night, having slept in. I woke in very little pain. All very promising as beginnings go. Somehow, something just… wasn’t. It was strange. I sat a long while. Not exactly meditating. Not exactly daydreaming. No music. No coffee. I even ended up chatting with my traveling partner for some time before I ever had coffee.

I did have coffee, eventually. I shook off my ennui enough for that. The rain continues to fall. I enjoy the sound of it. I took my coffee on the couch, and just sat for some longish time, then a distracting email message reminded me of a practical task that needed to be handled. Once that was done, I found myself feeling grateful to my traveling partner for his help on all sorts of practical things I tend to muddle up because of my injury…which got me thinking about gratitude generally, and people who were ‘there for me’ long ago, at various points when I earnestly needed help… I thought, too, about who I am now, how I feel about those things now, and whether or not I also felt I had ‘said thank you’, shown my appreciation, or taken an opportunity to return the gesture at some other point. Am I the woman I most want to be?

I found myself enjoying some time on writing notes for holiday cards and letters to far away old friends, and thinking about how very precious our connections to each other really are. Time well spent.

I spent the afternoon wrapping up other practical details of life, after the nasty weather deterred me from driving in holiday traffic. Marveling at how people can be such dicks to each other, in the abstract is one thing – wasting part of the weekend being pummeled by it just didn’t seem the right choice today. I realized at that point that I might not be where I thought I was within myself. I got things done and headed home, thinking about the recent South Park episode (s19e10 PC Principal Final Justice) and wondering if the scenes of imminent family gun violence might have messed with my head more than I realized at the time. I later made an observation to my traveling partner that it might become a favorite episode, having done something amazing I had never been able to do for myself; it trivialized the threat of violence at the hands of a loved one in a comedic [for me] way – it rendered some of my chaos and damage harmless – a cartoon. That’s powerful. But… in that initial moment, the panic just at the edges of my consciousness was very real, and although it didn’t take me over, it is part of my experience.

Welcome in my own experience.

Welcome home.

At this point, I’m past all that. I took care of me with great tenderness and compassion. I’ve gone through some things, over the years. They’re behind me now. I did a load of laundry, had some dinner, and made a fire in the fireplace – the first since I moved in. It’s a lovely quiet evening, no music, no video, just the sound of the crackling fire, and the rain. It’s enough, and I am okay right now.

I am home from work, the week is over, and it’s been raining for a couple of days now. I’m okay with that; I like rain. The house is quiet, and for now the only music are the background sounds: of rain on the roof, on the pavement outside, and on the flue and vent covers overhead, and of the tickety-tickety of my fingers on the keyboard. Dinner is heating up in the oven, nothing fancy – leftover casserole. I am tired. Relaxed. Content. Happy enough just to listen to the rain fall. In fact… happy.

I enjoyed a few minutes on the phone with my traveling partner. My dear love knows me well, and the laughs, inside jokes, and tender words were a lovely way to draw a clear line between the work day, and the weekend on an evening we won’t see each other. Tonight, in some way I don’t really know how to describe, I feel very much at home. It doesn’t much matter why, does it? This moment is simply a way station on some much longer journey, and I won’t count on this soft sensation of contentment and joy to linger indefinitely. I am here, now. I love, and I am loved in return.

Tonight, that’s enough.

The sound of rain, the feeling of home.

The sound of rain, the feeling of home.