Filed under: Arthritis, Fibromyalgia, Happiness and Joy, Health and Fitness, Psychobabble, Spirituality, weight loss
I’m five weeks into the year, and I’m still not losing weight. I should probably care more about that than I do. The thing is, though, that I know I’m doing everything right. I’ve struggled for years to make that the important thing, but I’ve never been able to succeed. Now, when I really have a goal and want to reach it – 50 pounds in a year – somehow I can’t focus my energy or emotional dependency upon the scale. I just…don’t seem to care so much about it. (The written word cannot adequately convey how completely out of character this is for me.)
What I do care about, is making some serious changes to my life. Physical therapy is proving to be a Godsend. It’s hard – much harder than I thought it would be – but I’ve discovered so many physical issues that I didn’t realize I had, and that were contributing to the severity of the ones I did know about. The translation of that is that the problems I can’t fix – the arthritis and the fibromyalgia – are not as severe as I’d thought, and that the issues making everything so bad are ones I can address. That’s an awfully good feeling.
I’ve also really been awakened to the difference that being gluten-free makes in my life. I think it’s very easy to think that something isn’t helping, when it’s been a while since you experienced the difference. I originally went gluten-free a little over a year ago, when my rheumatologist told me that a lot of his arthritis patients experience some relief from doing so. He said he didn’t think it was necessary to actually test for celiac disease, because it was easier to just try the diet and see if it worked; he also said that a number of his patients who tested negative for celiac still experienced relief from the diet. It is possible to be celiac-negative and still be gluten-sensitive or gluten-intolerant. So I gave it a shot, and I was surprised at how much relief I felt. Not only from the arthritis and associated pain, but from the depression and mental fogginess I’d been experiencing, as well as fatigue and general malaise. I did a lot of research at the time and was surprised at what I’d found.
But over the course of a year, I lapsed. The gluten-free lifestyle is not easy. Our culture is not friendly to it. There is not a day that goes by without having to actively concentrate on maintaining it, and until recently, Oklahoma City has not had a plethora of retailers who are cognizant of the demand for gluten-free products. The rest of my family is not gluten-free, nor are any of my co-workers or friends. Under those circumstances, it’s easy to forget how bad you were before, and when you gradually slide back into old habits, it’s unfortunately easy to not associate a return of symptoms with those habits. I’d fallen into the trap of only thinking in terms of gastrointestinal reactions to gluten, when the truth is that, while those are dreadful, they are really the least of my gluten-associated problems. It wasn’t until I decided to get clean again that I was reminded of what a difference it makes – and it was an immediate difference. Within a week, my pain was cut probably in half and my mental outlook was…well, it was like I was a different person.
So between physical therapy and eating clean, I know I’m making a huge difference in my life. My next step, and the piece of the puzzle that I know is still missing, is to step up my exercise. I haven’t been doing a lot, for a couple of reasons: primarily, I wanted to get into a routine with physical therapy, see how it was going to affect me, and then build an exercise routine that I can do without ill effects. I think I’m ready to do that now; now, my obstacle is my schedule. The Ninja Princess has had to change taekwondo schools (possibly temporarily; we should know tomorrow night), and the new one is considerably farther away. Worse, where her old school is next door to the Y, the new one is…not. The Y in that area isn’t nearly as convenient. So I’m waiting to see if the change is permanent before creating a whole new workout schedule for myself and my husband. It’s a total change in evening routine. Meanwhile, though, we have been doing a lot of walking. While it’s probably not brisk enough to be much of a fat-burner, it’s keeping me active and mobile and in the habit of exercise. Also, the PT postural and core exercises are pretty intense, actually, so at least I know I’m getting some good arm, upper-body and core exercise.
Another change I’ve been making is actively working on my sleep habits and my emotional and spiritual self-care. With the help of Aetna’s web-based programs, I’m working toward repairing my sleep deficit and tendency to insomnia, as well as actively working to improve stress management and reduce my negative thought patterns. This is another thing that cannot be overemphasized in terms of its importance in a healthy, happy lifestyle. I’ve fallen into some really bad, old mental habits over the past year and a half, and it’s time to start digging back out of that hole. Right now, I’m doing it on my own, but I haven’t ruled out the possibility of involving a professional. Therapy, in all its forms, can be incredibly beneficial.
In short, while I’m not seeing a lot of results, I feel pretty good about the changes I’m making. I’ll admit that I’m a little bummed about the lack of cooperation on the part of the scale, but at the end of the day, if I don’t lose a single pound this year, but I keep these new habits, I’ve still made a difference in my life. And I guess that’s the most important thing of all.
So I’m four weeks into this new lease on life, and so far, I’ve had mixed results. I lost quite a bit of weight the first week, but none since. I had a solid week of no pain, but returned to lots of pain and limited mobility thereafter. Two steps forward, one step back, I guess.
This week, though, has been interesting. I started physical therapy, which was something both exhilarating and terrifying for me. I just wasn’t sure how it would go, how much it would help, how uncomfortable I would be. I’m happy to report that the first session went great, it helped enormously, and it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. In fact, I’m thinking of leaving my husband for my physical therapist.
Not really, of course. But it was a great experience. For once, I felt really heard in terms of the muscular component of my condition. I don’t mean to say that my rheumatologist has been unsympathetic or dismissive. He’s addressed it, educated me about it, and has tried to give me some tools that would help, but at the end of the day I needed something more. I think PT might be it. I’m already seeing some improvement.
So my pain is less, but more importantly I feel more in control and I have hope. I will be able to exercise – yes, I’ll still have to moderate, but I won’t be in agony.
I’m eating well. We just went out of town for four days, and there’s not much worse than a road trip to derail clean eating. I did well, though, considering. We did a lot of walking, so I don’t feel that I was hindered in any way by the hiatus. And though I still haven’t seen a loss on the scale, when I got dressed today, my jacket was noticeably looser than last time I wore it. Also, my husband is insistent that he can see changes. You can’t argue with that; at least, if you’re smart, you won’t.
My husband has been dramatically supportive for the last couple of weeks. I have to attribute most of my success on the trip to his influence. There really aren’t any words for how it makes me feel when he gets involved this way. No roses or champagne or candlelit dinner could ever come close.
So after a rough week last week, this one has been surprisingly positive. I still haven’t seen a loss, but I feel successful anyway. ♥
I’m running into some difficulties in my lifestyle renovation, folks. Mainly – well, pretty much entirely – because of the arthritis, the fibro and the associated issues. To my mind, they’re all one issue really, because they all go hand-in-hand and feed off one another.
I’ve got to find a way to live with this disease. To live, not merely exist, not just show up every day and stumble through the day, just waiting and hoping for it to be over. Not tiptoe around the pain and function at subsistence level, hoping not to aggravate it too much; not try to power through it without regard for it and end up making it worse; and not wildly seesawing between the two. I have got to find some balance and a manageable way of dealing with it.
Here’s my dilemma: I need to take off some weight, for a lot of reasons, but in this context it’s because it will relieve some of the stress on my already inflamed and abused joints. It won’t make the disease go away. It will, however, help the symptoms and improve my quality of life. However, in order to take off the weight, I need to not only change my eating habits and eat clean – which I’m doing – but also exercise. Exercise, which used to be nearly a religion for me, has become incredibly difficult. I can do it, and I’d like to be clear that I do – but then I don’t sleep because of the delayed pain-reaction. When I don’t sleep, everything hurts even worse, I’m emotionally miserable, and it’s even harder to eat well and to find the energy to exercise through the pain.
It’s a vicious cycle, and the only way to break it is to find some form of exercise that doesn’t make me hurt later. Swimming has been suggested, because it’s low-impact, the joints are cushioned by water and it’s fantastic exercise. Which is great, except that I can’t swim, not really. Not well enough to do it for exercise. So I’m reduced to water walking, which I guess is what I’m going to have to try. (Or swim lessons, which is something I’m checking into.) That’s all fine – I like the water, really – but I’m frustrated. I like walking – no, really, I love it. I like resistance training. I like the exercise bike. (Yeah, I’m sick that way.) I adore yoga. All of these things have helped me in the past and I’ve enjoyed them all. It’s frustrating being so damned limited in what I can do with the things I love. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of forcing me to try new things, but really, I think it’s a little extreme.
I’m starting physical therapy today, and I hope to God that’s going to make a big difference. If all else fails, there’s always methotrexate. I started the Enbrel to avoid methotrexate, but the two in combination work better than the Enbrel alone. So that – while a last resort – is always an option. But if I end up on methotrexate, I know what it will do to my psyche. That’s when I will feel, well and truly, as though I’m broken. I’d like to avoid that as long as possible. Also, it has some pretty nasty side effects that I feel will derail all my other attempts at healthy living.
So now that I’m done complaining, I will say that everything else aside, the day generally looks up as it progresses. Mornings are the hardest mentally, but also the easiest time to keep from eating badly, just because my schedule is so inflexible. It’s a good thing, because I’m an emotional eater, so this nullifies a potential pitfall. Though I’ve been doing well with eating, actually.
I think the best thing I’ve done has been to give myself a year, committing to one year to make as much difference as I can in my weight and general health. I do have a specific goal in mind, but I’m not married to that number. I’m not going to feel like a failure if I don’t make that, as long as I know I’ve spent at least 80% of that year seriously working hard on this. See, I know that the real goal is to be living healthy – eating clean, exercising regularly, and taking care of myself in various other ways that I tend to neglect. But somehow, I can’t get past being results-oriented, no matter how hard I’ve tried. When I don’t have a deadline, a weight-loss goal,something like that, I slip. However, with the issues I’m dealing with right now, my physical condition and, accordingly, my weight loss, are unpredictable at best. Some weeks I may do great; others, I may not lose an ounce, or I might even gain half a pound back just in fluid retention and inflammation. So short-term goals can be counterproductive. The year helps me to look toward a specific date and hence stay motivated, while still allowing me room to breathe on those bad days or weeks. I’m motivated, but not pressured.
That said, I need to see a loss of some kind soon. The first week was great; the last two have been unimpressive. Not in my effort – I am really proud of myself there. But I haven’t seen any results. It’ll come, I know it will. I guess it’s time to measure, because my husband says he can see changes. That’s the point of measurements, to keep me going when the losses aren’t reflected on the scale. My problem there is that I’m not sure what I did with the first set. (Did I mention I’m working on my mental focus and organization as well?)
My goal for the coming week is this: to focus really hard on water, avoiding gluten (I’m pretty sure I’ve been glutened this week, and on reflection I think it’s probably the oats because there aren’t any other options – I’m not eating any processed foods other than the instant oatmeal – so I’m going to have to switch brands), and meditation. Each week, I’m going to try to add in one non-food-or-exercise self-care goal. This week it’s meditation: I’m aiming for 10 to 15 minutes a day, first thing in the morning, with the ultimate goal of retraining myself to it (I’ve fallen so far out of the habit that it’s like starting over, and it’s very difficult to make it work right now) and to starting the day in a positive mindset. I know firsthand how much difference this can make in every aspect of my life, from healthy behaviors to combating the depression to productivity at work. It’s time to put it into play.
I am not loving the dieting process right now. I’ve hit the mental wall. This is generally about when it happens, so I’m right on target.
Like most people, any time I start something new, there’s an initial honeymoon phase, a period of high enthusiasm during which I feel extremely motivated and determined and positive that I cannot fail. I wouldn’t exactly say it’s easy, but it’s definitely not difficult.
That wears off, inevitably, and when that happens, it all becomes work. That’s the point at which I’ve dropped off the radar, for the past couple of years. I finally realized that part of my problem was that I wasn’t setting definite goals, nor a deadline. I’d been doing that so that I wouldn’t feel pressured and my fear of failure wouldn’t become a roadblock, as it has in the past, but I think I went too far to the opposite extreme.
Right now, I have a deadline, and I have a definite goal. It’s extremely achievable, and it’s long-term, so I will hopefully be able to pace myself and not put too much pressure on myself, but it’s also set in stone. I will only ever have one fortieth birthday, and I can’t reschedule it or move it a week or two if I’m not making my goals.
Those things have kept me focused, and kept me sane, for the last two weeks. Still, right now I’m struggling. Not because I want to eat junk – eating clean has been a joy for me, to my own surprise. It’s made a huge difference in my energy levels and how I feel. But somehow, right now it’s not making as much of a difference as it has been. That doesn’t make me want to eat other stuff, though. The problem is, I don’t feel like putting in the energy to be healthy and eat clean.
That’s been my problem over the past year, and I know a lot of that was depression. I don’t feel that way right now, though. It doesn’t feel the same. I just feel tired, which is suspicious because I had a very restful weekend. I probably got more rest, both physical and mental, this weekend than I have in months. I gave myself a day off from everything, which I haven’t done in…I can’t remember how long. It was wonderful. I still got done everything I needed to get done this weekend, but just having that day of rest felt amazing. I need to do that more often.
So I don’t really know why I feel so tired and discouraged today. Oh, wait – yes, I do. The scale. See, even though I’ve been exceptionally focused and have eaten very cleanly, I haven’t lost any weight this past week. Part of that is fluid retention, I know that because I can feel it, and inflammation…but I’m left to wonder what’s causing the fluid retention, and why the inflammation, which was so much better the first week, has again flared up. It’s frustrating, and that’s what sucks the life and energy out of me.
Still, I have a goal, and I intend to meet it. I can analyze everything I’ve done or not done this week, and find areas of improvement. I haven’t been perfect; that’s unattainable and a bit ridiculous to reach for, so I don’t. I do strive for 90 percent perfection, and most days I make it. But I know my exercise this week was lacking, for several reasons that amount to excuses, and I know that I need to reduce sugar even further. My blood sugar has been unpredictable for several days, so I know I have to really pay attention to the carb/protein balance. That’s easy enough to do, because I know exactly the little areas where I’m slacking on that. I’m starting to fix that today. Exercise will be more of a challenge; I can’t get to the gym tonight, so I think I’ll have to take B for a trip around the neighborhood. She’s been wanting to start running anyway, so I’ll walk with her while she does that. Maybe I’ll even do some yoga, because God knows I need that.
I’ll get there. I have fifty more weeks, and I plan to make every one of them count.
Filed under: Ayurvedic medicine, Health and Fitness, Spirituality, weight loss | Tags: Ayurvedic medicine, health, Spirituality, weight loss
I got Perfect Weight yesterday, by Deepak Chopra, and had to jump right in.
The book is an approach to weight loss through Ayurvedic principles. More accurately, it explains how to restore your body to its natural balance, which will help it to achieve its proper weight.
There’s a lot I like about it. I like that the watchword is moderation in all things – that’s sort of my philosophy to begin with. I like that it is based in an understanding of the interconnection of all things. I like that it is not one-size-fits-all, but rather emphasizes the need to understand your individual body and tailor your lifestyle to suit you, not some generic ideal. I like that it incorporates more than just eating and exercise – there is discussion of ayurvedic massages, one form of which is essentially body-brushing, which I already love; and of course meditation is recommended. So it is very much a total body/mind/soul approach, which is the guiding principle of Ayurveda to begin with. That is completely in keeping with my needs and my philosophies.
There are some things about which I am doubtful, though. For one thing, a basic recommendation is not to eat breakfast. That flies in the face not only of “conventional wisdom” (which doesn’t hold that much water with me) and what I’ve discovered works for me (which does). But an alternative is to just eat a very light breakfast, so it’s not like I couldn’t do it.
Exercise is not supposed to be super-strenuous, and you’re supposed to tailor it to your body type, which is great. I’ve already discovered that I do best with very moderate exercise, and I can very easily become overtrained. So I like that. However, I’m a Pitta-Vata type, with Pitta slightly more dominant, and the recommended exercises for Pitta types are walking, running, mountain climbing, hiking and swimming. I hate running. I do like walking and hiking though. Vata exercises are yoga, dance aerobics, short hikes, and light bicycling. I can completely get behind that. 
I love yoga, and light bicycling is about all I’m capable of.
But my very favorite form of exercise is weight training, which is a Kapha exercise. I have very little Kapha according to the questionnaire. Which doesn’t mean I can’t do it, of course, but it surprises me that I love it so much if it’s not really what fits my type. So that raises a bit of doubt.
He recommends going meatless two or three days a week, which doesn’t sit well with me; I’m a total carnivore. But I’m willing to give it a try; I won’t do vegan but I can definitely limit myself to nuts and dairy for my protein on a day or two. Then you’re supposed to, one day a week, take in nothing but liquids. You can have anything you want, you just have to liquefy it. This is supposed to eliminate ama (a product of improper digestion, a negative energy), strengthen digestion, and restore balance. So…that will involve definite restructuring for me but it’s not a bad thought as I’d already considered doing a juice fast once a week or so anyway.
You’re supposed to eliminate red meat as much as possible. Again, I can do this, but I don’t want to. But then, as I am so fond of quoting, “If we want what we have never had, we must do what we have never done.” Which means change. Duh. So.
You’re supposed to avoid cold foods and drinks. Meals should be freshly cooked. Even vegetables are supposed to be cooked; he doesn’t really encourage a lot of raw produce. Some, but not a lot. Very contrary to what I’ve learned, and I’m unsure about this as well.
He wants you to sip hot water throughout the day. Can I just say how repellent this sounds to me? I know people do it but I don’t like drinking water if it’s even room temperature. Another big adjustment.
There are some basic tips that really are in keeping with what we all have learned to be smart, but I like the way he states them:
- Eat in a settled and quiet atmosphere
- Always sit down to eat
- Never eat when you’re upset
- Eat to the point of comfort, not fullness, and never beyond 3/4 of your capacity
- Focus completely on your food
- Eat slowly
- Sit quietly and relax for a few minutes after you finish eating.
But he also says not to eat for at least three hours and more like six, after a meal. Since I eat six small meals a day, this is very, very different. It’s more like the way I used to eat, which scares me. But then, I won’t be eating the same things I used to eat. So I’m not sure about this one. He does say if you must snack, make it something light like a piece of fruit.
Breakfast is supposed to be a very small meal if you eat it at all, lunch the big, main meal, and dinner light. I’m not sure how I feel about this, either; the six small, nearly equal meals has been so good for my blood sugar and my weight. So I’m debating it.
There’s much more to the book but the only other main thing I want to talk about is the daily cycle. You have to understand the doshas for it to make complete sense, but the gist of it is that there are certain times of the day when certain aspects of your physiology are more dominant. Therefore, you should always get out of bed before 6 a.m., to avoid sluggishness. You should never eat anything heavy except between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. Exercise is best between 6 a.m. and 10 a.m., and 6 p.m. and 10 p.m. You should always be in bed by 10 p.m.
This actually fits my day pretty well. I’d have to get up a bit earlier, but not that much. I exercise in the evening, so that works out well. And I have always, always tried to be in bed by 10, because frankly I needs me my sleep. The eating thing is hard though. As I said before, spacing my small meals evenly through the day has really worked well for me. I will have to consider this. Although really I guess that’s not contrary to this, because none of those meals would be considered heavy…
Enough for now. More later.
Filed under: Ayurvedic medicine, Happiness and Joy, Random thoughts, Spirituality | Tags: Ayurvedic medicine, Deepak Chopra, health, mindfulness, Spirituality
I’m beginning to study a new area (for me), ayurvedic medicine. I’ve been introduced to the works of Deepak Chopra (yes, I’m late to the party, but that’s nothing unusual!) and am finding them very meaningful.
Today I read a quote…The healing mechanism inside us perfectly matches the one outside. The human body does not look like the green meadow, but its breezes, its laughing water, sunlight, and earth were merely transformed into us, not forgotten.
(Journey Into Healing: Awakening the Wisdom Within you)
This speaks to me enormously. I think that if one is aware enough, mindful enough, one feels things that are not immediately explicable. When I have what I call a soul-feeding moment, I don’t always understand why it is so comforting, so soothing, so satisfying. But I think this is a wonderful way of putting it into words, a good way of understanding what is happening here. I am not separate from the external world. I am not a discrete whole; I am merely a portion of the life and energy force that pervades all reality, but I am that portion collected into a finite package, a defined area. So I think of myself as separate but really, I’m not. I’m a part of that energy, that life force, and the boundaries that define what I call “me” are not solid or fixed, they are fluid and permeable. So the energy flows into me, and out of me, and what I am seeing and feeling – the breeze, the sunlight, the play of light on water and the shadows of the trees – these are all manifestations of that energy flow. They are affecting the energy flow within me. If they are things with positive associations, then they are causing positive energy flow, and if they are things with negative associations, the flow is negative.
Another thing that Dr. Chopra says in that book is “We are the only creatures on earth who can change our biology by what we think and feel.” and “We perceive, which means we add meaning to every signal coming our way.”
Because we think, because we are conscious and aware, because we know and interpret and observe the energy flow, we can affect it. We can influence it, for good or ill. All too often, I think we influence it negatively, without ever knowing it. My desire is to begin to influence it positively and consciously, knowing that I am doing so; to use my awareness and my sentience to create healing and strengthening energy rather than allowing my thoughtlessness and self-absorbed negativity to create weakness and ill-health in myself and the world around me. I want to stop thinking of myself as a separate being and be aware of myself as a part of the endless flow around and through me.
This is a little scary. It feels a little like a loss of identity and I think that is why we resist it. But I want to learn to know it as not a loss of self, but as a greater knowing of self. I am not separate but while I am in this life, in this form, I am defined, and that definition – though it is mutable and I can affect it – is what makes me, me. I want to learn to know myself as both unique and individual, and still part of the whole.
Filed under: Health and Fitness, Rants, Self-Respect, Social Commentary, weight loss, Womanhood, women's issues
Forgive me…I will warn in advance that this is angry and opinionated and…hostile.
But I mean, honestly. Sometimes people make me so angry I could cry. Here is this father, who is a fashion designer, talking about the sobering discovery that his daughter has an eating disorder, and lamenting the unrealistic standards of the fashion industry that help to create situations like this.
And several comments down, here’s this troll commenting that a size 10 to 12 is only average because Americans are all fat, and we shouldn’t pretend that’s acceptable. And meanwhile, she is a size zero and perfectly healthy. (She’s responding to a somewhat angry comment that the father’s promotion of a size 4 to 6 is not any better than the fashion industry standard of 0 to 2. I thought that comment was a bit overheated too, though I agreed.)
I only commented (mine is about number 41 or so) because I couldn’t reach “J”, to knock her the f&*k out. And it is so good that I couldn’t because I don’t think I’d have stopped kicking her when she lost consciousness…
Am I the only person who is sick to utter death at these women who help perpetuate the myth that we all need to be a particular size? Please don’t misunderstand me…I am on a journey here, striving for the utter limit of good health and wellness and fitness, and I don’t intend to stop ever because, well, you can’t. You don’t get there and then go on vacation. It’s for life. But…
I also accept that “healthy” for me is not the same as “healthy” for someone else. At a size 16/18, I was horribly unhealthy. I was heading for an early grave. At a size 8, I’m in pretty darned good shape. But I know women who, at a size 16/18, are in great shape. They’re strong, they have excellent medical test results, they are athletic, they are happy. For them, health is not about a number or a measurement or a BMI or anything else. I also know women who are a size 2, who can’t carry a damned 24-pack of bottled water and couldn’t finish a 5K if their lives depended on it. It’s not about a number on the scale or the tape measure.
Why do we do this to our daughters? Our sisters, our mothers, our nieces and friends? Ourselves? I am so, so sad. Because it’s bad, it’s really bad, when the faceless media does it to us. It’s unforgiveable when we do it to each other.
Madelaine Albright said, “There’s a special place in hell for women who do not help other women.” I believe that. And as far as I’m concerned, “J” has a one-way ticket. If that’s overly hostile…okay. I can live with that.
Filed under: Happiness and Joy, Life Lessons, Psychobabble, Random thoughts
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness, and where it comes from, at least in my own life.
It started with one of those stupid MySpace surveys – the ones that are all so similar but somehow trigger my OCD just enough that I can’t keep from posting them anyway. One of the questions nearly always is, “If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?” Now, being way too introspective for my own good, I always give these questions serious thought, and when I get to that one, my answer is always, “Nothing. Because everything happens for a reason and everything that has happened has led me here, and I am happy with where I am.”
Which begs the question of why I am so happy where I am? What is it about my life that makes me so unwilling to change any of it?
I’m not young, rich, gorgeous, or privileged. I’m not a social butterfly. I don’t have everything I want, though I do have everything I need. So what is there about my life that is so perfect, that I wouldn’t want to change it?
Here’s what I’ve come up with:
I am not young…but I am still in the best years of my life. I am so much more confident and happy in my own skin than I was when I was young. I don’t obsess over whether people like me anymore, or whether I have made someone angry at me. I am in touch with my inner bitch, as well as my inner goddess, and I am okay with people being responsible for their own emotions. If they don’t like me…not really my problem. If they do…great, but that’s not the centerpiece of my world.
I’m not gorgeous – but I am not unattractive either.
I’m not rich, God knows – but I have learned so much about the value of money – and what value it doesn’t have. I have learned that being able to buy whatever you want is nowhere near as freeing and joyful as knowing that you are in complete accord with the one you love, and that there are no secrets or omissions between you. Money is important, and it’s so important to be financially stable – but money is not ever going to make me happy. Love, family, and an honest, self-responsible life are.
And that’s the center of it, really. Because I am so blessed. I have a husband whom I love, more than I ever even knew. He loves me, more than I ever knew. He accepts me – he doesn’t hesitate to call me on it when I’m being irrational or overly bitchy or irresponsible…but he’s not unkind to me. He knows me inside out and he accepts me for who I am…and forgives me for my occasional bouts of extreme brainlessness. And every now and then, he does something so wonderful and amazing and unbelievable that it takes my breath away. And in between times, he brings me enormous joy every time I look at him or hear his voice or he touches me in passing…
I have two exquisite daughters, both of whom are a joy to me as much as they are a trial. I am constantly racking my brain to try to be sure I am doing the right things with them, and often feeling that I’ve failed – but I wouldn’t trade a second of it, because they are beautiful and precious and smart and funny and I adore every thing about them. Even the bad stuff. It’s part of what makes them who they are, and though I do want to teach them how to control themselves and to behave properly, so that they can get along in the world without making things unduly horrible for themselves – I do not want to change them. They are, in their very imperfection, perfect.
I have a nice home – it’s not anything extraordinary or outrageous, but it’s nicer than I ever thought I’d have, when I was younger. I have a very steady, stable job at which I am given significant responsibility and trusted to be competent. I have the amazing privilege of working with people I truly love and respect. I am privileged to spend time, almost daily, with people who make me laugh and brighten my world just that much more.
My life is not perfect; not nearly. There are things I would like to have – I would like to be completely out of debt, I would like to be able to go places and do things that are currently out of reach for more reasons than just money, I would like to be able to quit work and focus on writing, I would love for my kids to have straight As and perfect behavior in school…
But I don’t need those things to be happy. I have what I need. I have what it takes to bring me joy, and contentment. And what more, really, can anyone ask for?
So it seems to me, in the final analysis, that being happy is not about what you have or what you do or what you are…it’s about what you know. It’s about what you can see – can you see the joy in these things? Are you looking up, or looking down? Are you looking at what you’re striving for, or at what you already have? Because ambition, though it can be valuable, can also be an insidious poison – if you are constantly striving for something, can you ever take the time to be happy with what you’ve already achieved?
Keeping your eye on the prize is a great thing – but sometimes you already have the prize. Sometimes all your work and effort is really just about holding on to the prize you already have, not about winning the next one.
At least, that’s my conclusion. I have my prize. It’s simple, and maybe some people wouldn’t think it’s much of a prize – but I can’t imagine a better one.
Well, it’s December again, already. It’s hard to believe; this year has flown by. I know that as we get older, time seems to pass more quickly, but I really feel that I have just about missed this year.
Part of the issue is that when you work in retail, it sort of changes Christmas for you. It’s hard to be surrounded by so much Christmas regalia all the time and not get a little desensitized to it. So I haven’t had much Christmas spirit really, and the idea that it could be nearly December just seemed really alien.
Then Scott and the girls decided to decorate the house and the yard while I was at work Saturday, and I came home to a glorious Christmas panoply. I have to say, seeing it all day is not the same as seeing YOUR Christmas decorations, in YOUR home. Particularly when you drive up late in the evening, it’s dark, and all the Christmas lights are lit up. It was a very special, wonderful feeling, and they gave me an amazing end to a very trying day. Absolutely glorious.
Part of the problem, too, is just being so busy all the time. Working two jobs, particularly at this time of the year, leaves little time for reflection or noticing the passage of time. So even though I see the stuff all the time, it has sort of snuck up on me that, yeah, it’s time to get the shopping done. Only 22 more days, as the girls’ countdown calendar advised me this morning. Yikes!
So I’m thinking as I walk out the door that, you know, I just can’t seem to get in the spirit. I can’t believe it’s December and I just don’t feel like…and then it hits me. Literally hits me, right in the nose – snow.
Okay, it’s barely snow. Little tiny flakes, not even really flakes, and barely spitting down so that you have to squint and stare at a particular spot to even see it, but by God, it’s snow. And everything changed.
I miss snow so much. When I was growing up in Oklahoma, we had snow every winter, lots of it. Not all the time, and not always on Christmas, but by Christmas we’d usually had a few good snowfalls. Here in Charleston, it doesn’t snow that often, and when it does it doesn’t often amount to much or last very long. So I miss that. I miss the bitter, biting cold and the Arctic winds and the honest-to-God snow. Those are the things that I always expect from Christmas time, and I think one of the reasons that I’ve had trouble in the past few years feeling very Christmas-y.
So although I expect that we probably won’t have much in the way of snow, I am very grateful for the little spate we had this morning. I needed that. Maybe now I can start to have a little of that generous, loving, joyful Christmas spirit. I hope so!
I am a coward.
I have built myself a framework – a safety net, if you will – of rules and regulations and restrictions and conventions. My job, my home, my bank account, my children’s schools, my doctors’ appointments, my online blogs…these are all a part of the framework, the safety net. They all make me feel safe, and secure, and neatly slotted into my nice, safe, normal niche in life.
I know this because:
Yesterday, at lunch, I was sitting in the car at the gas station, waiting for a friend to come back after paying for gas. I was watching the cars go by, as they entered and exited the interstate, and thinking – as I always do – about who might be in them and where they might be going. Something about the day – the weather, perhaps, which was gray and rainy and gloomy, and cold – or about my own mood, gave me the oddest sensation that these people were all free as birds, going who knew where, while I was securely tied to the earth. I did not envy them.
I couldn’t help wondering if the guy in the old red Pontiac was on a road trip, headed to an unknown destination. Was the woman in the little Toyota running from something? Had she just quit her job and emptied her bank account and taken off to points unknown?
Why would I have these thoughts? One might speculate that they indicate a repressed desire in me to do exactly that – just cut all ties and fly away. But I didn’t find them appealing…I found them frightening. The idea of being in the car, driving, but not to anywhere…not having a job I have to be at the next day, not having kids to be picked up from school, not having bills to be paid on a particular day or a home to be cared for or a paycheck to ensure…was terrifying to me.
So that led me to wonder why? Why would I not WANT that, that ultimate freedom of having no responsibilities, no one to answer to, no one to take care of? Wouldn’t that be wonderful? But it didn’t seem wonderful to me; it seemed terrifying and heartbreaking and awful.
The fact that I have a job (okay, jobs) ensures that I get a paycheck. That paycheck ensures that I have a place to live and can pay my bills. If I want that security – a roof over my head every night, and knowing where it will be, and food to eat and each day a safe environment – then I must follow very strict rules and routines. Get up, get the kids to school, go to work, come home, make sure the kids are picked up, fed, etc…ad nauseam. I should feel trapped by all that – but I don’t. I feel safe and comforted.
To me, the most frightening thing in the world is not knowing what to expect. I did not realize that about myself until just now. Everything that I fear – death, old age, divorce, an empty nest, losing a job, having a serious health condition, going on a new ride at the amusement park for heaven’s sake – all comes down to that. They are all situations in which I do not know what to expect, and that is bone-chillingly terrifying to me.
It seems blindingly obvious, now, that this is at the root of my compulsive planning and organizing and list-making; I am not just a naturally organized person who has a talent for creating order from chaos (though I do) – I am borderline obsessive-compulsive because I am terrified of disorder!
I knew that I had control issues. I thought that I had dealt with them to some extent, but I find that the fear of a loss of control – of not knowing where I am headed and having no way of steering – is worse now than it ever was. It just hides now, under and behind other things. That is sobering and saddening to me, because I don’t want to be timid. Timidity is not a positive trait, to my mind. I wish I knew how to conquer this particular fear…perhaps if my faith were stronger, and I could simply trust that someone is taking care of me, I could deal with it more rationally. But as it stands, I am petrified of the unknown, to the extent (evidently) that I perseverate about it at odd times and seemingly without provocation.
Historically, having unsolicited thoughts like this has meant that an issue I have been avoiding is rearing its ugly head, demanding to be recognized. I am afraid of that, as well – my fear is so great in this context that I am afraid to even think about it, but I can’t help it. It almost sounds like it may be time for therapy again…but I dread that too. It’s never an easy process, and to get to the dawn you have to first go through the night.
I am afraid of so many things, for someone who considers herself fairly assertive and bold. I don’t like that about myself.
