Archives for category: weight loss secrets

Me, too. Well, actually, I found one – a bunch of them, and a great perspective shot down a busy, picturesque street, on a sunny afternoon, between spring rain showers. I snapped a quick shot from my position on the corner, waiting to cross the street. I grinned, satisfied, and hurried on across while the light was still on “walk”.

Later, when I sat down for a moment with my thoughts, and this metaphor about signs just waiting to become words on a page with an apropos perspective shot supporting it… no picture. It didn’t save. The moment… has passed. Unrecorded. Soon to be forgotten.

Well… shit. Moving on, then?

…Or… are you still “looking for a sign”? What’s holding you back from that next step, right now? Fear? Money? Discouragement? Frustration? Disappointment? Ennui? (Have you ever noticed that what holds people back from pursuing something of interest is rarely joy, contentment, or satisfaction in life?) Okay, so, it’s not easy to “live the dream” – if what we want requires more than we have. Doesn’t matter if that’s money, or training, or experience, or skill… there’s an effort implied to any of it, and the suggestion that if we truly want to achieve that achievement, we’ll do the work. Luck only takes us so far. (I say this as someone who has been astonishingly lucky in life, all things considered.)

Wanna be a rock star? Are you making time, and putting in the hours, learning to play an instrument, read music, write songs…?

Wanna be a renowned author? Are you practicing your writing skills, you know, by writing? Are you honing your craft, and seeking feedback that will result in becoming the writer you most want to be, telling a story only you can tell?

Wanna kick butt at roller derby? So… yeah… are you on skates, looking for a team to practice with?

Wanna build custom furniture with amazing space-saving secret compartments and interesting built-in features that are entirely unique to your brand? Okay… are you already learning cabinetry and wood-working?

My point is this; it’s not luck alone that walks us down our path in life. We have to take actual steps. 🙂

…Don’t just stand there! Start walking. 😉

Sipping coffee on a quiet President’s Day holiday morning, and contentedly relaxing, letting go of baggage and bullshit lingering from jobs past, preparing for a future that begins in earnest, tomorrow. (Doesn’t it always?) I breathe. Relax. “Fuck my bullshit,” I think, smiling.

This seems relevant today (and many other todays as well). Far more experienced and expert words than I could offer. 🙂

I’m comfortable telling my own bullshit to fuck right off. If I don’t, I’m sure someone else will, but… what would I learn from that besides rejection? It’s too easy to excuse bullshit because someone else called it out, and the resulting feelings of defensiveness, hurt, rejection, and possibly resentment and anger, will quite likely blot out my ability to easily recognize that there is real truth to it. It’s important, I find, to be awake to my own bullshit, as much as possible, and do that work myself. It’s peculiarly far less lonely. 🙂

While I’m on about it… fuck your bullshit, too, damn. Can you do a little something about that? (Yes, you can. Choices. Verbs. It’s a lot of work I know.) I’m being somewhat playful, but also quite serious and purposeful. When was the last time you did a serious self-inventory? Who are you? Where are you headed in life? Are you wasting your resources and potential as if there is no future? Are you playing a grand game of Let’s Pretend and failing to understand how very much control you actually do have? Are your thinking errors preventing you from being emotionally and physically well? Are your addictions degrading your quality of life in return for a few minutes of something like pleasure? (Fine, fine, you’re not addicted, it’s just something you do… whatever. Fuck your bullshit.)

Seriously. Fuck your bullshit. Let it go. Change something you don’t like about yourself – because you don’t like it. Change your circumstances, if they suck. Seriously. Make choices. Use verbs. Don’t just party through your heartache or the wreckage in your head that’s holding you back. Educate yourself. Read a fucking book. See a damned therapist. Make every possible effort to be the person you most want to be! This is your life. Live it well, for fucks’ sake – because it is yours.

Why? Well, damn – because it’s what you want. Did you not already catch on to the fact that when what you want (of yourself, and of your life) is very different than what you are providing yourself, a deep despairing unhappiness can set in, an ennui that can destroy your ability to act – or to care – leaving you vulnerable to yet another evening/weekend/week/month/year of going… nowhere. Stress that never ends because you never choose in favor of your own long term interests and needs. Are you on a path that leads somewhere? Are you “wandering purposefully” seeking a greater truth? Or are you sort of just… killing mortal time? You could likely do better, for yourself. Your will to do so will matter a great deal. There are verbs involved. It’s a lot of work, and at least initially (maybe always, just being real; there’s work to do), damn little in the way of obvious pay off. It takes time. Incremental change is slow.

Anyway. What I’m saying is; this is your mess, you clean it up.

…And also? Fuck your bullshit. Damn.

…And also?…

Begin again. ❤

Well… I’m home, again. The car is unloaded. There is a tidy stack of belongings to one side of the living room that are not mine. There are bright lime green sticky notes here and there, on walls, on bookcases, on drawers, marking spaces that could be pleasingly and functionally re-purposed for the needs of another. Oh sure, this is a comfortable space for two, has been, really, all along – I just choose to live a solitary life, these days. Or… I had been so doing. And, although it is a comfortable space for two, it’s not really outfitted for cohabitation in any long-term way.

Change is coming. Actually, according to the stack of boxes and things, and the handy list of stuff I would ideally like to get done ahead of time, it’s already here. He’s already here… well… on his way. Not a visit. Not a vacation. Not “coming and going”. Not wandering, or mostly traveling; my Traveling Partner is coming home for some while. 🙂 I’m excited, like a teenager, nesting, doing chores, moving things from here to there. I’m also… giving my inner teenager a lot of shit over it, in the background, and a hearty helping of side-eye, when the excitement becomes surreal. This is not a daydream of playing house. This is real life. Real people. Baggage, challenges, aspirations, changes, love, and all. All of it. Who we are now. Who we want to be. The journey between those destinations.

…No map.

I’m glad I got home ahead of him. There feels like so much to do to make him welcome, to make room for him to truly feel fully at home, and moved into this shared space. (Holy shit – I gotta share my space. lol) Then, too, I look at things I just haven’t gotten done, ever, because… reasons. (Some fairly lame reasons, some utterly understandable – some both. One reason, just being real, is all the back and forth travel to spend time with my Traveling Partner, elsewhere!) He knows me so well. His affection is deep, abiding – and accepting of who I am, while also supporting my growth. There is so much I won’t have to ask for help with, the help will be there. 🙂 It’s like another Giftmas, every time I come home to something nice he’s done to help out. He fixes things. He has an exceptional sense of placement that suits my aesthetic. He hangs paintings with skill and an eye for theme and beauty. He notices things that I don’t always spot, and takes care of what I can’t so easily do. It’s reciprocal; I help him with things that are “more in my area”, whether personally or professionally. That matters. We count on each other – and we comfortably can. I laugh when I realize that there are no surprises here, and that he is coming home to my familiar presence, because he wants to be here, with me, as I am. I relax. It feels warm and supportive and intimate, even from afar. Even before I hear his key in the lock on the front door, in some future moment, soon. There is a sense of eagerness, and belonging. I have missed him greatly, however much I enjoy living alone.

I hop up from my writing to add another sticky note for him to find, “this bookcase is entirely for your use”, it says. I sit down smiling. There is more to do, and I feel grateful to have time to get some of it done in advance, so that I’m not “underfoot” while he is trying to get settled in; a drawer in the dresser that I plan to relinquish, night stands to swap because he likes “the other side of the bed”. I frowned into the refrigerator earlier; I need to grocery shop, too. I’ve been living a bit like a bachelor, a bit more than I’d really like to. There is positive momentum in this change for both of us.

Sure, sure, eventually there will be some moment of miscommunication, hurt feelings, or anger, and we’ll deal with that the way we do – explicitly and affectionately, sometimes with clenched jaws, and terse, deliberate, careful communication, sometimes with tears – from a place of love, wanting only the best of, and for, each other, and always building this partnership. Fearless commitment to loving. Expectation-setting, clarifying questions, deep conversations, laughter – so much to add to my day-to-day experience, and I am so hungry for it, sitting here thinking it over.

I wasn’t in a good place for cohabitation 4 years ago. Am I now? Moving into my own place made so much sense, then… What about now?

I look out the window of my studio. It looks out onto the front stoop, and at the door into the garage. His space. Oh sure, still shared, but… shared like my studio is shared. It sort of has to be, small place, but, still my studio. Still his maker-space/workshop/whatever he makes of it, despite any wee bit of shared purpose in some fashion or another. (And yes, we do things like knock, check before we barge in, make sure we’re aware whether the other is in the throes of some creative endeavor that would suffer for being interrupted. Respect, reciprocity, consideration – they’re all part of my Big 5 relationship values, values that he both respects and shares. Boundaries set are boundaries respected, in this house.) I smile looking at that door. I earnestly want to put a sticky note on it, although it is not at all necessary… I do it anyway. My smile deepens with my feeling of contentment.

It seems a lovely way to begin again. 🙂

Sipping my coffee this morning, after an interrupted but generally decent night’s sleep, noticing my anxiety coming and going. Thinking about the practices that have been most effective, specifically, for my anxiety: meditation, long walks (another form of meditation, in a practical sense), consistent self-care, good nutrition, adequate rest… All effective, and taken together the result is often very nearly no anxiety at all. Except… well… this means my wellness, particularly my emotional wellness, relies on a handful of verbs.

Verbs.

Verbs, people. Verbs.

I’m sitting here sipping my coffee, feeling my anxiety surge and recede, again and again, amorphous and not specifically associated with anything obvious. But… what about my practices? My self-care? All the things?? Why am I still anxious??

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

It could be that I’m anxious because verbs have little power on the printed page, and only evoke their real power once put into action. Seriously. I have not yet put my ass down on my meditation cushion, this morning. Nor have I taken a walk. I haven’t actually taken even one step toward putting a verb properly into motion, quite yet. I’m sitting around in a t-shirt and yoga pants drinking coffee and scrolling through feeds. So. Anxiety? Sure. It’s a thing. I still deal with it. Verbs are only useful when they are actually in use. “Action words” sort of presume that there will be some action. lol

I have some thoughts about what to do with the day. I’m anxious about those notions. I have a “to do list” waiting for my attention. I’m anxious about that, too. Money? Anxiety. Health and fitness concerns? Anxiety. Work? Anxiety. Leisure? Anxiety. Fucking hell. I definitely needs some relevant verbs this morning, and just writing sentences that use them is not going to be particularly helpful. 😉

Looks like I need to begin again, with some verbs. Action words – and actual actions. 🙂 I know what works, but knowledge alone is not going to get the job done (and this is, generally, true in life). Is knowledge truly power? I suppose it depends on what I do with it.

Beautiful momentum.

Time for some verbs. Time to begin again.

Although I had intended to write over the long New Year’s holiday…

…I didn’t.

Interesting break from a great many routines. I took time to live life, to reflect on this life I live, to question my choices, gently, to consider new choices to come, to contemplate the path ahead, to let go of expectations, and to clarify assumptions. Productive lifetime in the company of friends, and my Traveling Partner. Solo moments, shared moments, moments of adventure, emotional moments, and a handful of moments of epiphany, all mingling with… moments of pure, lived lifetime. It was lovely.

It was also clearly missing something, but until the moment that 2018 expired, it was less than ideally clear to me what I thought might be missing…

…We really needed a piñata. Seriously. One that could be just beat to fucking death, and explode in a shower of trinkets, mementos, sweets, intoxicants, bits of wisdom gathered through the year, money, glitter and confetti. lol No kidding. I am considering making this a new New Year’s tradition at home. A piñata. 🙂 Something more lasting than a kiss, more visceral than a ball drop, a more powerful metaphor, something a bit physical. 😀 Who’s with me on this?

All of the routines that will remain routine have recommenced. A few got cut from the roster, being less than helpful, or too complicated, or driving more stress than they manage… changes over time mean choices over time, too.

Speaking of time, welcome to 2019. It’s time to begin again. What will you do to save the world?

The world awaits your choices. Your results may vary.