The Trouble with Inspiration

The days following the “One Spirit Medicine” journey have been difficult. Not for reasons that you may imagine. Food wise, habit wise… I’m solid.

Things I’ve eaten withou regret or desire to binge (aka keep eating when not hungry):

  • A lettuce wrapped guacamoleburger from the airport (yuck)
  • Also airport fries (that tasted like they were fried infancy chemicals)
  • A potato chip
  • A bit of a dark chocolate
  • A margarita (also from the airport)

And the moments just came and went.

They were insignificant in how non monumental they were. Neither in their consumption nor wanting more did they move me.

That part’s been easy.

The part that’s been harder is my relationships. I’m noticing that things I used to ignore or look past are suddenly bothering me. I feel assaulted by complaining (not that I don’t also indulge -believe me! I am guilty of this). I get physically uncomfortable when I suspect dishonesty (even if I’m not the victim). Inautehnticity makes my skin crawl. It’s really no wonder that I ate so much for so long. It swept a soft, warm blanket over much of my awareness. It was easier to exist. There were so many fewer choices than this version of now where awareness is heightened.

Then there’s the simple problem of talking to others.  I’d love to share my experience and talk about what worked well for me.  I’d love for everyone to feel as much connectedness as I do now.  But I have to remember that not everyone wants to, and even if they do… the way I found it may not be the way will.  Heck – they could be more connected than I ever was while eating cake!  I do not wish to prostheletize, mostly because I do wish to be well liked.  I feel nervous sharing, because I don’t want to come off as holier than though or directive.

That’s the trouble with inspiration, for me.  When I find myself inspired by others I also begin comparing myself to them in the same breath.  And if the action they inspired in me doesn’t result in the same outcome they experienced, then I feel a sense of failure

Hardest of all is what’s happening at home. JH, who ate a la OSM with me didn’t find in it a lifestyle. She was pretty miserable. She missed textures and flavors she wasn’t getting. She eagerly went back to chocolate, coffee, pizza, and cheese puffs. Admittedly, she doesn’t have a problem with these things. She is not powerless over them. When she consumes them, and when she chooses to consume them again she is in control of those choices. She dealt with her food and substance issues long ago and has them managed. And she wears pants half the size of mine to prove it.

I realized that I had an expectation. I thought we were “doing this together” and really she was doing it for me. Together, to me, meant we would end up in the same place. And I didn’t realize that was such an unrealistic expectation.

This reality of disappointment has been present for me since the final day of the detox, but I haven’t thought about it much. We’ve had a few bickering matches about it and I’ve certainly cried, but no longer in a hurry to make my feelings stop I just let the disappointment hang out, or rather let myself hang out with it.

Today, Leap Day- my favorite day of the (every fourth) year, I took the day off as per usual. I believe this day should be milked for all the metaphorical meaning will allow. We can catch up, or see it as extra… Either way it is a day to make the most of. Last time it happened I had a job interview at the place where I now work (yay!) and I went on my first date with a woman. Both certainly sent my life in the direction it’s going now.

Today, another planned day off, I made myself a bulletproof coffee (that’s coffee blended with coconut oil and unsalted grass fed butter) with coconut whipped cream and sat on the couch watching Little Women LA and compiling/submitting the Box Tops for Education from my son’s school. Then some budgeting, a lunch out with friends, and a run to the to Lassen’s Natural Foods to buy powdered greens.  It was a good day, but didn’t have many of the life changing properties I was hoping for.

imageI was clear I needed to move my body. Up here on Runyon Canyon, which is so widely trafficked by Angelinos, I wasn’t expecting my time to be very significant other than cardiovascularlay. But on my way up I saw two winged insects: a monarch butterfly and another… A moth perhaps? Nothing I’ve seen before. Both very similar in flight pattern, shape, and size but completely different in color and markings. They flew together and looped around each other. They danced in harmony with one another.  And I saw in them… learned from them, that every transformation is different.

And there it was. Every transformation is different. JH and I are both dedicated to transformation. That’s part of why we are together. We disagree often often about what transformation looks like, acts like, smells like… But we both transform. Separately and together. As individuals and as a pairing.

Repeating that mantra as I climbed the rest of the way, I got to the top of the ridge to see hikers all throughout the canyon below me taking different paths. A pair of other hikers came up behind me remarked “there are so many different trails.”

Who knew, I thought?  Many trails… many paths.  Every transformation, every journey, is different.

There are many different paths.

Every transformation is different.

This is not a coincidence.  We can inspire one another and take our own way.  Inspiration isn’t imitation.

Thank you, Earth. Once again I am enchanted by your lessons and the graceful way in which you reveal them.

I’m off to start writing a book. Happy Leap Day everyone!!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *