Tuesday, August 10, 2010
When I was kid, I got tired of grandma and great aunts and great grandmas and all noting special dates all the time. Most of the time they were talking about people I'd never met and their special days.
Now, of course, I've turned into grandma! I have dates in my head that won't go away. I note in passing that Sunday was my daughter in law's birthday, and she was born in the year I married my one and only. It was a bummer of a day with the news so recent that her husband (my son) would NOT be coming home next week like we had come to expect.
Yesterday was a huge date: 8/9/10 (in US representation). Yes, it's one of those dates that grandma used to harp on. My mom's father was born on 8/9/1910! In Missouri, for those of you who live there now. He later migrated to Iowa to take on work, and his eldest daughter crossed the river to marry a Nebraskan, which is how I came to live here!
In thinking of grandpa, I can't help commemorating what he did with the latter years of his life. He retired early, at 55. My dad thought he was nuts at the time. Even now, I'm older than he was when he retired, and I'm still working away.
But what did he do with this retirement? He did a whole lot of Boy Scout volunteering. Was this man active? You bet! Hunting (with bow, muzzle loading musket, and regular guns as well). He cleaned and grandma cooked whatever he bagged. Fishing (with hand tied flies)... a memory I hold fondly as he would take us kids along to Lake Mannawa. He took troops of Boy Scouts on a canoe expedition into Canada, at least once. On his 65th birthday, he hiked 65 miles down in the desert (Philmont Scout Ranch)!
There IS a family heritage for fitness! Here's to you, Grandpa, for giving a great example of an active and useful life.
Monday, August 09, 2010
I was just reading a blog but it could have been any number of blogs that talk about fresh starts or beginning again... when this thought popped into my brain: "Are we really beginning again... or are we continuing?" . o O (Uh-oh, she's going philosophical on us again!)
The path of self-care began when we were children, infants, even. When we first reached to feed ourselves, or started to crawl, we began didn't we?
It is a journey of enlightenment, of learning, and of discipline. Our personalities play into how we perceive it, big-time. To me, it's all about choices: learning to make ones that will take us where we want to go. Everything from learning how to walk to school or which way leads to the park as kids to more adult choices: what to buy at the grocery store, what career path to follow.
While learning what to do to get us where we want to go... we need first to understand where it is we want to go. What is our heart's desire? Only each of us can know what that heart's desire is: perhaps even figuring out what we want / are meant to do in life is part of the journey.
I may not even be able to express my heart's desire in words. When I was a kid, and people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I had a one-word answer in my head: "Happy". What I most desire is inner peace... freedom from fear. To feel contentment. I know what it feels like, I've felt it... but it is elusive. It can slip away when the picture around us changes! If you're a sensitive soul, it can slip away from simply seeing someone else struggling! If you're a controlling personality, it can mean you start trying to fix life for everyone else!
Responding to others, then, is also part of the journey. Because we are not alone. Self-sufficiency also requires community sufficiency. This journey never ends. Even when "beginning", we are really "continuing". Continuing to learn, to grow, and to work to achieve our heart's desire.
For today, I will put aside the things beyond my control, and do what I can. I will nurture my body and my mind and my soul. I will be kind to others but I won't try to live their lives for them. I will accept the grace of contentment without complacency.
May all who read feel a peace within... that elusive contentment... and be kind to yourself.
Sunday, August 08, 2010
One of my major themes in this journey is learning to treat myself gently when I'm not "perfect" about the plan. But another major theme that I subscribe to is, indeed, what Marenamoo says "Be ever vigilant."
I was whimsically thinking of what to blog today and this title popped into my head: "Being vigilant doesn't mean you can't be gentle!" Just to be sure, I looked it up!
Vigilant, according to Webster, means "staying watchful and alert to danger or trouble." That's it. Being aware of what's going on around us, and in us. This is not an impediment to being kind to ourselves.
I like to think of parenting my inner toddler at times like this. When I slip and slide I imagine a little girl with red curls stomping her patent leather-clad foot and putting her hands on her hips and saying "No!" Yep, Toddler Barbie wants what she wants!
I don't know about you, but when I discipline a toddler, I have trouble keeping the twinkle out of my eye because they are so darned CUTE, and you can't help being crazy about them! Besides, it becomes a "teachable moment". I can talk about WHY a behavior is wrong, and how it benefits to behave differently. I can give Toddler Barbie another way to look at the world. There is nobody more adorably serious and remorseful than a toddler learning to make sense of the concept of "being good".
So, that's what today is about. Vigilance with kindness. I actually feel pretty good this morning. I slept well.
Saturday, August 07, 2010
It's Saturday, and it's a lazy weekend. My attitude has continued to be one of dissatisfaction and rebellion. Not good blogging material if you're trying to be positive.
I had my maintenance weigh-in consultation this morning. This should have put me in a good mood, as I have continued to lose slowly, even during maintenance. I fessed up to my insecurities, and all the craziness going on in my life, thought I had a good plan, and then came home to the blahs.
I was hoping to see my son on line. But he wasn't there. Frustration.
Held it together until after lunch, then fell apart with food. It started innocently enough... all healthy stuff. But then my son did show up on line with the message that I should not count on him necessarily coming home early as we'd been thinking he would. I was just adapting to that plan and like a yo-yo... it might not happen.
Napped in front of the TV, but not before continuing my little binge. In the end, I consumed about double my calorie range on the day, and did stop before it got as bad as it COULD get. And strange as it may sound, felt kind of OK about the entire episode. OK about a minor binge?
Yeah... kind of like: "I knew it was going to happen. It's happened. I can put it behind me."
And the major element of the binge? Lean ground beef! I was low on iron anyway, per the blood bank, on Monday. So, maybe I'm just responding to the urging of my body? And then again, maybe the little devil in my head got its way.
Friday, August 06, 2010
We talk a lot about comfort foods, the ones that make us feel good, take us back to childhood memories… but do we also have “comfort clothes”? Maybe it’s a particular style or fit, rather than a specific piece of clothing, but I'm thinking I do!
As a “large” person, I often had to buy things that did not fit me through the shoulders, simply to get the length and girth to cover my torso. Once I lost the weight, I still love several of these shirts and sweaters, but let’s be honest, they don’t really fit me.
While it’s wonderful to see my thinner self in clothes that fit, I have to admit that it is comforting to wrap myself up in an article of clothing that is “too big” for my new frame. It was cold at work earlier this week. I put on a sweater that I have hanging there because of the unpredictable nature of office air conditioning and heating. The sweater is now too big for me… even the smaller sweater that I bought a few years ago wraps amply around my tinier self.
I wrapped in around me like a blanket and felt… comforted. It made me feel protected, somehow. Like a little kid wrapped up in mom or dad’s shirt. Then when I took it off, and found myself in clothes that fit, I was OK with that, too.
I want to wear things that fit. I really don’t need to buy the bigger size any more. I want to trust myself to stay this smaller size. I find myself a little more willing to get rid of things that are bigger, too.
But I will keep a few “comfort clothes” around, despite the advice to discard it all. Because sometimes I need to feel like a child again.
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