Archives for posts with tag: begin again

“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.

It’s the last day of a long holiday weekend. I generally wrap up long weekends or vacations with chores, the sort of day-to-day housekeeping sorts of things that return life the a more practical experience consistent with ordinary days, and weeks, eventually putting a bit of distance between the experience of celebration, and the experience of ‘everyday life’. This morning I find myself engaged in many of those same practical endeavors, but somehow still celebrating, still wrapped in joy, still feeling grateful… I’m not bitching. I’m finding it quite wonderful, and making a point to invest generously in this morning of practical joy, and everyday gratitude.

This morning it feels very ‘natural’ to feel grateful while I sort laundry, to feel joy while I empty the dishwasher, to feel a sense of worthiness while I vacuum. I won’t dissect the feelings right now – it is worthwhile to embrace and enjoy them, to savor this moment and let it become more of who I am. Sure, there are verbs involved, and it’s taken a lot of practicing of a variety of practices – many of them incredible difficult to pursue at a time when I didn’t value or appreciate the woman in the mirror. Getting to this place where it feels natural to feel good, and feels natural to celebrate, and to enjoy my experience, has taken almost 3 years now (more, I could count way further back, but my path took a significant turn about 3 years ago) of practicing, of meditation, of study, of learning to treat myself well, of learning to love – and to allow myself to be loved in return – there have been (and are, and will be) verbs involved – and a personal commitment to action, to change, and to beginning again when things don’t work out well, and letting go of attachment to expectations, and outcomes.

The most delightful thing about being here, this morning, on this day, feeling the way I do right now is that there will be other days when I am having a different experience altogether – and I will know to treat myself well, I will know that challenging moments and experiences will pass, and I will know that however bad it is, I will be able to begin again. I’ll have this moment, right here, to remind me of the vast potential for joy and gratitude – and delight, and love – that is near at hand when I am ready and able to reach for it. It’s a pretty big deal to find an emotional anchor to a moment of profound contentment and delight within reach in other less pleasant moments, it’s an even bigger deal to build one with my own choices.

There is value in learning to allow joy to cast a bigger shadow than my sorrows do.

There is value in learning to allow joy to cast a bigger shadow than my sorrows do.

Today is a good day for practical celebrations and taking care of home and hearth with the eager commitment of preparing for an honored guest, to really welcome the woman in the mirror home. She is worthy of the best I have to offer the world.

I am waiting for water to boil, and contemplating the peculiar puzzle of refugees, suffering, and fear. I don’t find myself at all concerned about refugees aside from the obvious; they are human and need homes, safe places to sleep, nutritious food, a sense of place, and a source of fulfillment and productivity. Don’t we all, regardless where we live, or where we came from? People.  The concern and stress for me come from the unavoidable awareness of how badly people treat themselves every day, right here at home; what else could be the source of so many having so little compassion?

When the path seems most clear, sometimes the footing is treacherous.

When the path seems most clear, sometimes the footing is treacherous.

Personal experience tells me it is actually incredibly easy to be without compassion if I am unable or unwilling to show myself compassion as a starting point…if that’s true of others also, it suggests that a great many people treat themselves so poorly they have nothing left of compassion, trust, or kindness for others. That’s worth being concerned about – it’s very sad.  Who am I to criticize? Well… I’m human, too, and feeling the sting of associations that lack compassion isn’t foreign to me, and it sucks. So – I think I can safely say more people more easily able to experience compassion (toward themselves, too) has value. So…okay. Now what? How can I really help? What about you? How can you help, too? I don’t really have answers to all those questions, but I have a thought… Isn’t demonstrating compassion a great start? Showing ourselves compassion, too? Modeling the behaviors that feel so right to me at this point in my life, bringing them to life in the world – isn’t that a good starting point? Treating others with compassion sets a tone – and sets an example. So does treating myself with compassion. There are still verbs involved, and sometimes it is worthwhile to pause and really consider myself in the moment; is my reaction in the moment to what is foreign or new really appropriate to the actual known circumstances? Am I living in fear – or in love?

There is so little need to struggle. It may not seem so in some moments, but I have found it is generally vastly easier, and more productive, to give myself a break, show myself some compassion, and to be generous with kindness than to put that same energy into struggling. The world is colored in a very different way if I face the struggles I see with questions, instead of assumptions. How about this one, “How can I help you right now?”

I can look back on a younger me who was a very different person than the woman I am today. Her world was very black and white, clearly defined, with obvious good guys and bad guys, and fairly strict rules of conduct suitable for breaking regularly. She didn’t have much compassion, and wasn’t at all aware of that lack. She treated people fairly callously, and treated herself far worse. She expected the world would treat her well, because all the fairy tales said so, and when the world didn’t follow the plot closely, she felt cheated, betrayed, and wounded. I sound disappointed with her, perhaps, but we’ve come a long way together, and although I can’t quite bring myself to call her well-meaning from this vantage point, I can see her potential shine so brightly across the years. She struggled more than necessary, but didn’t know better, and she had a lot to endure, and to overcome. Did she do her best? Well – I’m sure she thought so then, whatever I think now and it isn’t fair to judge her harshly from the vastly improved perspective I have on a quiet Tuesday at 52; I’ve tidied up a lot of the chaos and damage that she waded through every day.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this – this, too, is a journey. I think I’m just saying… people are  human. Each of us. All of us. Any of us. The cost – and value – of human life can’t be measured on a scale we can really understand. Don’t turn humanity away. Don’t turn your own humanity away. Make yourself welcome in your own experience, at least, and having done so with a sincere, genuine, and compassionate heart… can you still look at your neighbor, or your fellow human being from afar, and say ‘they are not worthy of my help’? Whoever ‘they’ are, they are also human, also worthy.

Anyway. There’s already a single word for this entire post.  “Namaste”

It's your path... you choose your direction.

It’s your path… you choose your direction.

Sometimes the simplest practice is enough. Sometimes the simplest practice isn’t just ‘enough’ – it’s quite seriously the right and proper choice and only likely practice to really ease my anxiety, or stress, or fear, or anger, or sadness… Meditation continues to be the most powerful Rx available [for me] to ease symptoms of most challenges associated with emotional volatility, or loss of resilience.

I  mention it on a Monday almost after-the-fact; I woke feeling fine, after a pretty exceptionally relaxing and delightful weekend. An hour later my anxiety was through the roof; it is Monday, and I am frustrated and discontent with work. Frustration being my kryptonite, this is a magical cocktail for a shitty day if I choose to struggle with the feeling, feed into it, deepen it or invest in it by picking at it like a sore until it fills my emotional and cognitive space completely. I can choose differently, and today I do; I put things aside and meditate for a while.

Still an excellent place to begin.

Still an excellent place to begin.

I keep my meditation practice simple, and rarely use guided meditations to address stress, chaos, or anxiety; the heavy lifting is done [in my own practice] by simple breath meditation, awareness, stillness – sitting quietly, breathing, and letting everything fall away that isn’t right here, right now. Right now I’m generally okay. Giving myself a few moments quietly, just for me, without rumination or spiraling loops of negative thoughts, is often enough to put anxiety to rest. It does take practice. Work being what it is, I may need to take a few minutes for me once or twice during the work day, too. I’m so worth that. In meditation, I also take a few minutes mindfully aware of myself, how I feel, how my body feels, how my heart feels, and stop avoiding how little enthusiasm I have for work right now – the time taken to give myself a break, stop gritting my teeth dodging that lack of enthusiasm, and accept ‘where I’m at’ with real compassion and understanding is helpful. I take time to boost my pain medication; it is a very cold morning, below freezing, and my back is feeling it.

Beginning again. I am a student.

Beginning again. I am a student.

It is a simple morning, worthy of good self-care, and simple practices are enough. There are verbs involved, and  your results may vary. 🙂

I spent the weekend relaxing quietly, and taking care of me. I considered writing more, once or twice, and even had the occasional worthy notion to reflect upon. I chose differently. Instead, I took care of myself gently, and spent the weekend relaxing, recovering from the long week, and building emotional resilience for the week to come.

In the middle of autumn, a rose blooms.

In the middle of autumn, a rose blooms.

This morning I scroll through my feed noting the pendulum swing of opinion in action; French flag overlays disappearing quietly in favor of newly outraged articles about terrorism elsewhere in the world, other deaths, other wounds, other pain, accompanied by reminders that all these lives matter as well and… where was everyone then? I see articles wisely counseling the use of language that refrains from honoring terror groups with dignified titles, and asking that we not culturally dignify terrorists with honorifics or titles crafted to convey legitimacy. That makes sense to me, language has power. The reactive articles from pundits on the opposite end of the political spectrum reflexively spit back resentment that any change is asked of ‘the righteous and justified’, seemingly unaware that being one of ‘the good guys’ requires acts of goodness, not just a naming convention. What a mess we’ve made. Certainly, it is at times like these that it is most apparent we are very fancy monkeys; we do not easily agree on what is ‘good’ or most suited to our kind.

It’s strange how little part politics has to play in the life of any one individual human being. It’s a choice. One choice among so many, and we make tons of small choices every day. Treating each other well, truly, and without regard to our origins, our politics, our lifestyle, our beliefs, or our circumstances, is something to aspire to. People who successfully treat everyone quite well are a joy to be near, to stay connected to – to love. Behavior is chosen. What choices must I make differently to be that person – someone who treats everyone quite well, and is a joy to be near? How do I change the world when I make choices based on whether or not the outcome fits into ‘treating others well’? I reflect on these things most days.  It isn’t enough to consider, to think, or to wonder; there are verbs involved. There is a need for balance; among all the people I wish to treat well is one person I am often most likely to overlook – myself.

A busy work week begins soon. How will I choose my actions to ensure I treat myself, and those around me, truly well? What choices will I make to secure a comfortable experience, pleasant, fulfilling, and content? What choices will I make to provide that experience to others? How can I do better by the woman in the mirror today, than I did yesterday?

Blue sky between rain showers.

Blue sky between rain showers.

I turn the thoughts over in my head somewhat fretfully. I notice I am picking at the edges of my cuticle, left hand, index finger. I smile, and recognize that as small as it is, I could start with not tearing my hands to shreds with fussing and worrying. It’s a start. However small, as starting points go, each moment I choose to stop something damaging, and continue with something helpful, I begin again. Each new beginning holds the power to change the world.  Perhaps it isn’t ‘everything’ – but it is more than nothing, and it is enough to choose, and to choose again. It is through our choices that we change the world.