Archives for category: Menopause

“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.

 

I’m tired tonight. Brain-tired. I put a lot into the work day, today, and although the day ended with a considerable sense of achievement and positive perspective, getting there wasn’t a given, and there were definitely verbs involved…and something else.

Today I really put some will and effort into approaching stressful circumstances without expectations of the outcome. I allowed myself to be open to making different choices – in language, in approach, in point of view, in goal-setting, even time management. I made a point of giving myself a break when new things weren’t an immediate success; skill-building is incremental change over time, and requires actual time, and of course…practice. I recognized how allowing change is just about as important to changing, and to growth, as wanting change. I’d prefer to have a hand in my own transformation, rather than allowing events to mold me; becoming aware of the important of allowing change – whether my own, or someone else’s – is useful.

Small details, and incremental change over time.

Small details, and incremental change over time.

I’m tired tonight. It’s a lovely evening, though. I almost didn’t write at all, but realized that I am teetering on the edge of a bad bit (a few days have gone by), and I can sense the creeping disorder at the edges leftover from having the windows replaced. Why do these small disruptions screw with my head so much? I smile; why doesn’t matter. I know to take care of me. Tonight that means sticking with good self-care practices, getting the rest I need, and beginning again tomorrow.

I end the evening thinking of my traveling partner; he’s ‘there for me’ unexpectedly in the most reliable way. It’s a quality he has. I pause, thinking about all the ways he shows his love, and reflecting on how best to ‘return the favor’; I value reciprocity in my relationships, I value his partnership and his affection, and well…seriously? Loving is as wonderful as being loved.

 

I spent last night sick, and disinclined to write. Tonight, although I was in quite a lot of pain and my traveling partner was feeling somewhat unwell, we spent a handful of hours hanging out. I am still smiling. I’m inclined to say more – certainly the evening is on my mind. I don’t know that I have the words.

Sometimes when I hang out with someone, I walk away from the interaction still feeling very much that we are strangers. Other times – other people – it is easy to connect deeply, to be open and comfortable, to be easy with each other, and walk away afterward feeling closer, and feeling connected. This evening was more than just a pleasant good time together. We spoke intimately on difficult topics, shared our emotions comfortably, and gently, and when we said good-bye at the end of the evening I felt heard, and I felt I knew a little more about my partner’s heart than I did before. I even felt a little more well-understood, myself.

It was an ordinary enough evening when it started. Then, somewhere midway through some possibly completely unrelated bit of conversation, he said…something.  My eyes filled with tears, and his filled with puzzlement. “You said the ‘L word’, I replied, trying to smile. “Loneliness,” I continued, “I’m not very good at talking about it.” I struggled to regain my composure (there really wasn’t anything wrong at all) and explained that for some reason, just hearing the word “loneliness” has the potential to cause my eyes to tear up. He looked at me with such love and empathy. There was no hint of awkwardness, or strain. We talked awhile about loneliness in general, and in our own experiences in life. We talked about solitude, and the things that differentiate those experiences one from the other. It was beautiful. I feel comforted, and supported. I feel loved.

The listening thing is huge. It wasn’t obvious whether or not my traveling partner felt it too. I’ve been practicing ‘listening deeply’; I find the most elegant and lovely explanation in a favorite book on mindful love (How to Love by Thich Nhat Hanh).  The extraordinary intimacy of the conversation, and the evening, was quite wonderful. Comfortable. Easy. The result? A very secure feeling of loving and being loved.

Love.

Love.

I don’t have much of real value to share about tonight; I am wrapped in love, and inclined to relax, feet up, just smiling. Maybe for a while. Some evenings, I sit in the twilight and I wonder. Tonight, I sit in the twilight and marvel.

I woke during the night, or rather more accurately I simply realized at about 1:00 am that I was awake. My state of wakefulness continued for some time, and I finally recognized that I wasn’t returning to sleep; something was keeping me awake. I wasn’t sure what was disturbing my sleep, but I got up for a little while, keeping the apartment dim, and figured some meditation and yoga might send me easily back to the land of dreams. I was incorrect. Once I got up, it was clearer that there was a physical source to my discomfort, and although I felt no hint of nausea, I knew I was going to be sick, at some point in the imminent future. I sat meditating comfortably, and waiting for that more acute moment of discomfort that would signal immediate illness to come. I didn’t have to wait long, and it was all over very quickly. I was easily able to return to sleep.

I woke with a headache, and arthritis pain on the ‘winter’ setting. I am physically uncomfortable, although the morning begins well enough in all other regards. I could make a big deal out of the pain and the headache and stomp around snarling, but there’s no point in doing so, and I would prefer to enjoy the morning, content, and quiet. The quiet morning was interrupted by my own laughter at one point; morning yoga with this headache and arthritis pain resulted in some ‘turtle on its back’ “fun” when I toppled over during a moment of vertigo, and couldn’t quite get up, because of pain and stiffness. I was still chuckling when I tried the same sequence again, successfully – which is a far better outcome than if I were helplessly weeping in frustration and anger, and storming around the apartment annoyed with myself. This ‘being human’ thing is rich with comedy – and with frustration, and I enjoy it when the former mitigates the latter.

Coffee time…oh, and goodness it is good this morning. Yes! I pause everything, move to the wee love seat, and make room in my morning for stillness, just chilling quietly, hands wrapped around the warm coffee mug, basking in the contentment of this moment right here.

Enough.

Enough.

My traveling partner arrived safely home last night, and I am eager to see him – I don’t actually know when that will be. Last week our attempts to plan time together were undermined by the needs of another relationship; I saw him only once, unplanned, for a short period of time when he urgently needed an emotional safe haven from stress and mistreatment. I don’t regret not living in that environment with him; however convenient it might have seemed, it was actually damaging the relationship I share with my traveling partner (far too valuable to sacrifice carelessly) to live around his other partner. It took some time to come to terms with that, and to recognize how much more easily we love each other, and how deeply, and to see our profound connection restored – through distance (about 12 mildly inconvenient miles). It is fulfilling to live in accordance with my own values, by my own rules, with my injury accounted for in my day-to-day environment, able to paint when I am inspired, unconcerned about inconveniencing anyone, and absent the stresses of OPD. It’s never been about winning, or losing, only about living, loving, and finding my way to being the woman I most want to be. I will see him when I see him; when we are together our time is well-spent on love. 🙂

What matters most?

What matters most?

Soon there will be sharing of tales of adventure, and cuddling, and romance, and plans for the future. There will be laughter, and an intimate connection that still strikes me as singularly deep, and profoundly insightful. There will be encouragement, and enthusiasm. There will be affection, a sense of fun, and shared humor. For now, there is a work day ahead of me, and plenty to do. I smile when I think of my traveling partner, wondering what his day will look like. I’ve traveled a long way, myself, on this journey that is loving, and in the brief time we’ve been together (only about 5 years) my traveling partner has been with me to see much of that growth. There is so much of the everyday routine of life that brings him to mind, I sometimes forget we don’t live together. lol Even simple things like cleaning the kitchen seem like acts of love; he taught me the food safety practices I still use in my kitchen, and encouraged me to get my food handlers card, not because I needed one, but because it was a great way to ensure I really did understand food safety basics – and do so without badgering me, frustrating me, or hurting my feelings. Love isn’t exclusively about smiles and kisses; love encourages us to grow, nurtures us while we do, and celebrates with us when we have.

Unfinished work?

Unfinished work? “Uplifted Hearts” I think a lot about love.

Another day thinking about love? Sure – I think about love and loving a lot. What better use of my time, and studies, than reflecting on love and loving, becoming a more skilled partner and lover, treating others well in every relationship (because that, too, is love) and savoring the successes, learning from the moments that go sideways unexpectedly, and continuing to invest moment-to-moment in what love offers? Seriously? It’s a major disappointment to me as an adult that we don’t teach love and loving more honestly (or at all), with more depth, and with more acknowledgement of the power love has in our lives to heal, and to enrich our experience. How many of us stumble through decades of our adulthood before we sort out the difference between lust and love? Sex and love? Being loved and loving? Before we understand that there are verbs involved? Before we even understand all the many sorts of love that exist (each having value all its own)? Instead, we argue over the value of sex education and don’t bring love into the conversation at all, which is pretty telling of what primitive creatures we really are, still trying to restrict and regulate a need (and a drive) that is fundamental to every breath we take, instead of coaching and educating and promoting the well-being of our entire society of humans from a loving place, regarding matters of love.

Be love.

Be love.

Today is a good day to love, to explore love, to reflect on what love asks of us, to consider what we have to offer. Today is a good day for loving, and for being loved – there are verbs involved. Today is a good day to invest our vast lifetime of emotional moments in the treasures that love has to offer. Today I will start with loving the woman in the mirror, and smile; loving her well changes my experience of the world – and the world’s experience of me.