Apart from a few days here and there where I really wasn’t feeling it I used to be so eager to sit down and write this blog three days a week. If there was any chance I had to get to it before spiderman went to bed I did it. The idea I had for each post was near bursting out of my brain and the only relief was to write–and NOW!
Today is the second or third time in a row that I’ve done a lot of other things on the way to writing… I’ve poked around on Facebook and Twitter, read articles, watched videos (and I don’t watch videos… my two minute attention span doesn’t permit it most of the time), even done housework (gasp!). It’s a strange experience. I’m not 100% sure what this procrastination is about (maybe you know and you want to give me your feedback?). It’s not for a shortage of ideas. I have at least 20 posts near bursting right now–if anything I have too many ideas and it makes it hard to process them.
I suppose things are just getting more
challenging exciting (as my bio-reprogrammer would encourage me to say). I realized shortly after telling you that I was going to need to turn inward and do some work that this blog IS my work. I mean really. I have an idea or feeling and this is where I process it. There have been several days since last Friday when sitting down here to write probably would have provided me with the ideal comfort for the situation. Big big stuff happening in my head and heart… lots of stuff being shaken loose… lots of opportunities to try different ways of dealing… lots of opportunities to be able to see clearly what ISN’T working.
I ran over my bathroom scale with my car today.
(Actually, I didn’t. I put it on the front porch for a freecycler to pick up. If you aren’t freecycling yet it is time to start. Go to freecycle.org, find your local group, start passing things you no longer want or need to your community instead of sending them to your landfill.)
Anyway, I know that’s very late 80s-early 90s fat acceptance movement of me, but I did it… and I think it was the right thing to do.
I’m engaged in this 100 Acts of Self Love challenge with all of you. I do at least 5 intentionally self loving things a day and post about them on Facebook and Twitter. I am making a new habit of make conscious choices to care for myself… and yet I cannot seem to stop stuffing my face. I was seriously considering eating McDonalds today. Seriously. Like I told AngryWombat I was going to do it and she tried to talk me out of it and I said I was doing it anyway and… then I didn’t… because McDonald’s is disgusting and I haven’t eaten it in at least 9 months and really there’s no ruining a streak like that on a whim…
|and then this happened (yeah, happened. as in happened to me…
“you do it to yourself” -Radiohead)
So, the food issues are back, with a vengeance. Speaking of vengeance. It’s not something I believe in so much… or at least not in enacting. But today I went to BFO’s new home for the first time and used his toilet, and it wouldn’t flush all the way, and he didn’t have a plunger, and… well, yeah. I’m not into revenge, but it seems like sometimes the universe has other plans! Oh, silly universe you…
Anyway (again), I’m eating because I don’t know what else to do with myself. I’m tired from spending 3 hours a day in the car commuting to work. I’m overwhelmed with all of the potential directions to take this work. I’m hormonal because it’s day 22 of my “cycle.” I’m adjusting to the new brain chemistry that comes with a 75% reduction in psychopharmacology. I’m worn down because I have two jobs, and I’m a mom, and… that’s it really. And I tend to be pretty “fixed.” All or nothing is a recurring theme in my life… and because I can’t find the time or motivation to be the “all” (which in this case is preparing homemade, organic, vegan, whole food meals for myself everyday) I’m doing “nothing” instead (which in this case means spending too much money eating out, and eating junk).
But none of that is the point… I can work on that. The point is that I am doing all of this self-love and there is still a part of me who is so obsessed with despising her weight that I’m not getting anywhere! I have been having this battle with my hair (and face and body) for weeks now… trying to look the way I “feel” and it just isn’t working.
I feel so beautiful. I feel happy and healthy and smart and vibrant and talented and creative and loving and generous and… all sorts of things. And then I look at myself and I see a gorgeous face with sparkling hazel eyes-the sweetest button nose-rosy apple cheeks-luscious pink lips, a long lovely neck and pretty collarbones, pert and perky milky white tits, and then mostly just disaster after that…
I feel compelled to admit (to myself and all of you) that in the time 38 and I are taking apart I was going to get my ass into gear and be super diligent about diet and exercise and be a svelte version of myself by the time we reconnected… seriously… that was my plan. Wow. Not super healthy and…
Yeah, not going to happen.
So in another attempt to get clear in my intentions with myself I am ditching the scale. I don’t care about how much I weigh. I don’t care about my hairstyle. I wish I could say that I love them both, but right now “I don’t care” is the best I can muster.
I am forgiving myself for having an expectation that I needed to live up to some weight loss plan, I am forgiving myself for any judgement about the plan, I am forgiving myself for any judgement about NOT being able to live up to the plan… and I’m turning back to self-love.
And just in time, today I saw this:
“Love is not a state of happiness all the time. Love is a dedication to see and Love the light and the dark. Not just be on a chemical high in the early stages of romance. Love is a verb and we get to choose TO Love.” – Mastin Kipp
I know this to be true of all the kinds of love I experience for others. Hey guess what? It’s going to be the same for self-love too! I see and love the light and the dark. I choose it.
Happy almost 1/2 way through with 100 Acts of Self Love!