I am not sure where to start with this post. I've not written anything for a while, obviously. It is becoming increasingly tricky to stay awake long enough to sit at the PC. I have had a fair amount of coffee today (more than normal), so I'm fairly optimistic that I will be able to write without nodding off.
Last year at this time, I wasn't sleeping very well. Physically, though, I was doing okay. I was working with my personal trainer two times a week, eating well and running.
In October, I found out I was pregnant. This was of course happy news. Due to some complications, however, I had to put a full stop to my training and running. We were concerned for a while that the pregnancy might not go full-term.
Those worries were quelled with a very positive 20-week ultrasound. It showed that baby was developing well, that the bleed I'd had was resolved, and that everything was on track.
The problem was, that's about when all the illness started. I caught a respiratory bug that just wouldn't go away. I started sleeping on the recliner downstairs (that's a part of our sectional couch) to get some relief from the coughing. I found out that I had gestational diabetes. I was told that walking would be good exercise. Unfortunately, I've been experiencing a fair amount of pain in my pelvic floor. Even walking around the block made me feel winded and sore.
The kids, meanwhile, have been sick on and off since the start of the year. It has meant our attendance at church, small group and MOPS has been spotty. It has limited the amount of play dates, dinners and other social gatherings that we've been able to attend.
All of this, coupled with the weather, has taken me by the hand and led me to the edge of a deep depression. I have felt very isolated from people. I have grown resentful of people who seem to not have so much going on. My body has continued to deteriorate. I developed sleep apnea around February. I struggle to sleep at night because I wake up at regular intervals, either gasping for air or having to pee. This makes me tired during the day, which causes me to nap. Excessive napping causes me to not be sleepy at night, and so on and so forth.
As of today, everyone is back to healthy. We attended church for the second week in a row. We've not attended for this many weeks in a row (as a whole family) for about six months. We had dinner with our best friends on Thursday night (we hadn't been able to hang out with them since Christmas, again due to illness--ours and theirs). Things were starting to look up, honestly.
However, sometime during the last week, my body threw another curve ball at me. I know it's a common thing that happens with pregnant women. Of course I have to pee all the time, that's not a headline. A woman who is 33 weeks pregnant with her fourth child in 10 years is not going to have a lot of bladder control. I wasn't expecting, however, to become almost completely incontinent. Yep, you read that correctly. For reasons I can't quite understand, I have lost almost all ability to control my bladder at all. I broke down and bought special pads at Wal-Mart the other day.
So let's recap. In September, I ran a half-marathon and was doing plank rows with 15-pound weights. It's April now and I am swollen beyond recognition, my pelvic floor hurts almost all the time, I'm having Braxton-Hicks contractions very regularly and now I'm peeing my pants on the regular.
It's a lot to handle.
This morning, I had Brian drop me off at the church entrance. Even walking from the van to church (less than 10 steps) caused me excruciating pain. I was almost in tears as I waited for Brian and the kids to get in from the parking lot. One of my least favorite things is crying in public, but the pain I was feeling made it almost impossible to fight back tears.
Our pastor is doing a long-term sermon series on Romans. I have missed a bunch of the sermons due to illness. (I know they are available digitally, I just haven't been able to stay awake long enough to get caught up.) Today, he preached on Romans 5, verses 1-11. I will admit, I dozed off a couple of times (spilling coffee on my purse and myself for an added bonus). I cried silently into Brian's shoulder because of how much I was hurting. I excused myself to the washroom and cried in the bathroom stall for a minute or two. Really, though, I did hear what he had to say.
The part that was most impactful talked about suffering, and how suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character and character; hope. He talked about the fact that suffering is actually a gift.
I have had my fair share of non-physical suffering over the past few years. I have not always been able to see it as a gift. I can't say that physical suffering is easy to see from that perspective, either. Especially today, when just walking a few steps into church made me almost burst into tears, I couldn't see how suffering is a gift. For some reason, though, my pastor's words were oddly calming and soothing.
Mind you, I was still almost in tears, I had to waddle to the bathroom to make sure I didn't wet my pants and my hip started bothering me. But I didn't feel as resentful as I had felt before I got to church.
A few people tried to greet me and I mostly just rushed by. I feel kind of bad about that, but then again I didn't want to burst into tears in public. I just wanted to get out. Another friend saw me as I was losing control and gave me an impromptu hug. I sobbed a bit on her shoulder, then made for the exit before anyone else could see me cry.
Most of the time, I would be counting the minutes until I could settle back into my recliner. Today was a bit unique. I had received an email a few weeks ago letting me know that Bekah had a performance today with her dance company.
Over the past few months, she transitioned from doing one class a week to doing four classes a week (this comes out to about 4 hours of dance a week). She just performed at the Raue last month and did beautifully. When I read this email, I made special note of the date. I am not a details person, but since she's upped her commitment, I feel obligated to pay close attention to the details. I want to make sure she doesn't miss an opportunity to perform.
Almost every time I receive an e-mail from her dance school, I write back with questions. I clarify even when it seems like the information is crystal clear. I want to make sure my lack of focus is not a detriment to her.
Except for the email about today. For whatever reason, I put this performance on the calendar, told Bekah about it and had it all planned out. She was supposed to be at Harper College at 2:15. That gave us enough time after church to eat lunch, do her hair and make-up, check in on my friend's dog and get her to Harper. I dropped her off backstage and waddled, you guessed it, to the bathroom. I ran into a friend and we sat down together to wait for the start of the performance.
As we talked, I realized that the email stipulated they would be performing a dance routine from Phantom of the Opera. I assumed, wrongly, that they would also be performing another number, Carnival of the Animals. Since Bekah is newer to the dance company, she learned the choreography to Carnival but not Phantom.
So there I sat, exhausted and in pain, ticket already purchased, wondering how devastated my daughter was going to be that she couldn't perform. I wondered aloud why I hadn't received a separate e-mail stating her attendance wasn't mandatory because they would be performing material she didn't know.
To God's credit (not mine, mind you, because I deserve none), I had no impulse to head backstage and make a scene. I had no impulse to find out if Bekah was okay or not. I clutched onto my ticket as we entered the auditorium and had an overwhelming sense of peace. April and I continued to chat and I did cry a little as I recapped the morning (how much pain I had been experiencing). My shoulders slumped as I imagined how devastated Bekah was going to be at getting all dressed up and not being able to perform.
The show started and I dried my eyes. I love dancing, though I am not good at it. I appreciate the talent that goes into it and tried to just enjoy the different routines.
Before long, it was time for the Phantom performance, which is really a medley of routines and songs. To my surprise, there on stage, in costume, was my Bekah. Of course I burst into tears again. She did a great job and looked as beautiful as ever.
After her portion was done, she was able to sit in the audience with the rest of her level (age group). There was a beautiful dancer that performed in several pieces while in a wheelchair. It was wonderful to see the effort she made and the way she was integrated into the routines.
Once the show was over, I stood up to go retrieve Bekah (and promptly wet my pants, just for good measure). I did my best to let on that I hadn't just done that and was secretly glad that currently black maternity yoga pants are the only things that fit me. Black does hide a multitude of things.
Bekah's face was radiant when I picked her up. April complimented her (as did I). I guess there was a girl that was supposed to be there and didn't show. Bekah, in a very short amount of time, was able to learn the choreography and perform it admirably.
There was a reason God gave me peace. He knew how it would all turn out. He knew Bekah would be able to perform. He knew there would be a solution that meant she wouldn't be devastated. He used my pastor's words this morning to put my heart at ease before I even realized it needed to be at ease.
I am not sharing this because I feel proud of myself (the peeing my pants helps keep the proud feelings at bay). I am proud of my daughter, whose talent allowed her to participate. I am proud of my God, whose plan and peace transcended my own understanding.
He will make a way when there seems to be no way. I'm not much for singing in church (especially in the morning and especially when I've not had coffee yet), but these song lyrics exemplify what happened today. I am happy, not proud, that I was able to be quiet enough to let God do his thing.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Monday, August 24, 2015
A Picture of Procrastination
First, I've not posted anything in months. This is no good. I have made no progress on my novel. Take heart, loyal readers! School is about to begin and I have plans. I will be going to my parents' house to write, so that I don't get as distracted.
Now, the picture.
I, like many other parents, loathe the inordinate amount of toys in my home. It's not just the big toys, it's the pieces to the big toys. It's the Barbie clothes, the accessories to the Octolab, the fake food for the play kitchen (which, let's face it, is really only used when Doug crams himself into the oven).
Like any good mother, I turn into a dragon after tripping over these things for the umpteenth time. I yell, curse (under my breath, on a good day), stomp around. I threaten to throw everything out. I call my husband at work and curse at him about all the flinging-flanging toys.
So about a week ago, I had enough. To my credit, I didn't go full dragon. I focused my energy on the broken toys and I filled two garbage bags with broken toys, garbage and other detritus.
But, like any good human, my efforts to de-clutter often hit a snag. The biggest snag for me is perfectionism.
Enter these toys. The one on the left is a puzzle piece Jeremy smuggled out of the Algonquin library three or four years ago. Yes. I have held onto this puzzle piece. I have had all intentions of returning it to the library. I keep finding it and saying to myself, "next time I go to the Algonquin library..."
Yeah. Now it just taunts me. And even worse, I feel guilty for wanting to throw it away. So every time I come across it, I sigh with disappointment at myself and toss the darn thing back in the toy box!! For shame!
The pig is another relic. I think Bekah snuck it into my diaper bag after an open gym at Elite Kids three years ago. Same exact story as the dinosaur.
I have been meaning and meaning to return it, really. We went to an open gym last year (maybe, but probably a year and a half ago). I walked in and cursed under my breath for not having brought it. And yet...I just keep tossing it into the toy box.
The struggle is real! I have wanted to write a dozen different times, but have been stymied by what people might say or think about what I write. I have been afraid of being judged for my opinions and insights. So I have handcuffed myself and thrown away the key. I keep hoping that I will have the desire to go sit in the office by myself and write. Because the desire hasn't hit, I don't write. I know better. I know how to have discipline and I am a bit ashamed of myself.
Here's the thing. I won't be 100% better, that's not realistic. So I'm going to aim for 2% better. From there, it can only go up.
And for the love, I am tossing those flinging-flanging toys.
I'm back, bitches.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Updates
I am sorry that it's been such a long time since my last post. Over our spring break, I contracted a nasty strain of strep throat that knocked me down for almost the whole week. This is going to be a short post. My alarm is going off in about 6 hours. I am running my first race since August (early September? I can't remember exactly). It's a 10K (6.2 miles). I've been stressing about it, even though I know I can run the distance, because I've not run that far this year yet.
All the same, I know I can run it. It's a tough course, I have been made aware of that. The blessing is, as was just pointed out to me, that since I've never run a 10K before, whatever my time is tomorrow will be my PR!!! Yippee! That, for some reason, makes it all better.
Meanwhile, I broke down and called the library this week. I hadn't heard about the poetry contest and wanted to see when the winners would be contacted. I found out that the winners won't find out whether they've won until the ceremony on the 20th of this month. So the hope remains.
I also had said I would post the finished product (after several revisions). A big thank-you goes out to Cristina Cabrera, a former classmate (now English teacher at Elgin High School), whose feedback was invaluable.
In other news, my novel is now up to 70+ pages. I discovered Google docs (yep, I'm so lame when it comes to technology) and realized I could put my novel, in a Google doc, onto my phone. My dad (who is several years older than me but much more tech-savvy) told me to also install Google drive, which I did. I have been working feverishly on it at odd intervals. I am gaining good momentum. I am doing my best to not edit as I write. I have a lot to resolve in the revisions, but ultimately you can't edit that which is unwritten. I have a very good idea of how the rest of the novel will progress. I will continue to post updates as I get closer to finishing.
Here are the final drafts (or, the drafts that were submitted to the contest) of the poems I wrote. Enjoy.
(I will apologize in advance for the italics. It's a weird quirk of Google lately to italicize everything.)
All the same, I know I can run it. It's a tough course, I have been made aware of that. The blessing is, as was just pointed out to me, that since I've never run a 10K before, whatever my time is tomorrow will be my PR!!! Yippee! That, for some reason, makes it all better.
Meanwhile, I broke down and called the library this week. I hadn't heard about the poetry contest and wanted to see when the winners would be contacted. I found out that the winners won't find out whether they've won until the ceremony on the 20th of this month. So the hope remains.
I also had said I would post the finished product (after several revisions). A big thank-you goes out to Cristina Cabrera, a former classmate (now English teacher at Elgin High School), whose feedback was invaluable.
In other news, my novel is now up to 70+ pages. I discovered Google docs (yep, I'm so lame when it comes to technology) and realized I could put my novel, in a Google doc, onto my phone. My dad (who is several years older than me but much more tech-savvy) told me to also install Google drive, which I did. I have been working feverishly on it at odd intervals. I am gaining good momentum. I am doing my best to not edit as I write. I have a lot to resolve in the revisions, but ultimately you can't edit that which is unwritten. I have a very good idea of how the rest of the novel will progress. I will continue to post updates as I get closer to finishing.
Here are the final drafts (or, the drafts that were submitted to the contest) of the poems I wrote. Enjoy.
(I will apologize in advance for the italics. It's a weird quirk of Google lately to italicize everything.)
Growing Up
His daughter was difficult, firstborn. Teachers called her
sensitive, scheduled conferences.
She quivered about friendship,
boys, her feelings. Ill-fitting and scratchy, life pinched and clung to her.
Suicide almost stole her away.
He watched her,
helpless,
his heart straining.
Growing up was difficult
for her
to watch.
Awkward, wings deformed, she looped
away to college--new friends, new
opportunities.
Alcohol drenched her feathers, plummeted
his hopes
her potential.
His hair grayed; she fought the demon
Alcohol, almost lost
everything.
His heart dried up, hope leaking
through broken promises.
She clawed up
from the morass
from the destruction
she had heaped on herself.
Watching her, hope burrowed back
into his overstretched heart.
Potential peeked out, crocus petals
in soil thawed
after a long, bracing winter.
Years later, she was married, pregnant
With hope,
the first grandchild.
Skeins burst when overfilled, he pondered.
In the hospital room he rounded
the bed, laid eyes on the mewling
new
helpless
form next to her.
A thousand beams spilled out
onto cheeks wrinkled
from laughter
from worry.
His grandson is beautiful, his eyes declare,
everyone's best in a new skein,
supple and pliable.
His daughter in tears, he reflects that growing up
has agreed with her. Sensitive became an asset, wings healed.
Demons exorcised, opportunity
stretches
into the horizon
into the heart of his new grandson.
Words
Words sprout me gossamer wings,
erupt
me into the sky. Silvery and translucent over my back,
crisp air sweeps my breath.
My fingers brush
clouds, wispy and damp on my fingertips. Sun blazes, searing
through my closed eyelids.
Words plummet me to Earth,
anchor
me to the sand, chains
around my neck. Nails break off as I claw, choking
on fear, failure. I vomit loss
of opportunity, of love. Bile burns
tears from my eyes, agony washes
over my face. Mistakes reverberate,
ugly and hollow like rotted logs.
Words quiver my lover’s skin,
anticipation
waking desire.
My lips breeze his ear,
willowy promises reaching down his spine.
Words drip red from my chin;
I crouch over my victims’
spoils.
Tearing flesh, words work jagged teeth
across felled friends.
A forest lies in my wake, decay sweet I
lift my nose, spit derision, move
toward the horizon.
Monday, March 16, 2015
Old Words, New Poetry
I love to write, I know I've said it before. I am working (very slowly) on a novel. Meanwhile, I have been working on what I'd like to call the frazzled mom's novel-poems. I am entering a poetry contest at my local library. The due date is this coming Saturday. Surprisingly, I have been working on my poems for at least three weeks. That usually doesn't happen. I live on procrastination.
Last week was insane. I was way overscheduled and it led to poor sleep, extra stress and emotional hangovers. I knew that my reward for getting through last week was working more intensely on my poems.
My high school creative writing teacher is the voice in my head, even to this day. She was the one who taught me that writing is really about re-writing, about editing and word choice and the like. I am including two poems in this post. They are the two poems I'm submitting to the contest.
The first poem is on the third draft. I am hoping to get to the tenth draft before Saturday (when the poems are due). The second poem is going to be forged in a wine press of limited time. It's just the first draft.
My plan is to re-post the poems when I submit them. Then, for all the geeks out there, they can see the evolution of my work. (I'm positive I can count on my one hand the people that want to do that.)
In any case, Here they are.
Words
by Susan Carbajal
I feel like poetry is akin to sculptors working in clay, marble, etc. The artists say that the sculpture is there and it's just their job to chip away at all the parts that don't belong. I feel like it's the same way with poems. It's all there, I just have to make sure there aren't words getting in the way.
And now the worst part of writing and (eek!) putting it on the interwebs. I have to sit and wait, my heart pounding, to see what people think about it. (Because obviously I don't know what to think about it unless other people tell me. That's not entirely true but I am very suggestible.)
Last week was insane. I was way overscheduled and it led to poor sleep, extra stress and emotional hangovers. I knew that my reward for getting through last week was working more intensely on my poems.
My high school creative writing teacher is the voice in my head, even to this day. She was the one who taught me that writing is really about re-writing, about editing and word choice and the like. I am including two poems in this post. They are the two poems I'm submitting to the contest.
The first poem is on the third draft. I am hoping to get to the tenth draft before Saturday (when the poems are due). The second poem is going to be forged in a wine press of limited time. It's just the first draft.
My plan is to re-post the poems when I submit them. Then, for all the geeks out there, they can see the evolution of my work. (I'm positive I can count on my one hand the people that want to do that.)
In any case, Here they are.
Words
by Susan Carbajal
Words sprout me gossamer wings,
Erupt
Me into the sky. Silvery and translucent over my back,
Crisp air sweeps my breath.
My fingers brush
Clouds, wispy and damp on my fingertips. Sun blazes, searing
Through my closed eyelids.
Words plummet me to Earth,
Anchor
Me to the sand, chains
Around my neck. Nails break off as I claw, choking
On fear, failure. I vomit loss
Of opportunity, of love, bile
Burns the tears from my eyes, agony washes
Over my face. Mistakes reverberate
Between my ears, ugly and hollow like rotted logs.
Words quiver my lover’s skin,
Arrows
To his heart, anticipation waking desire.
My lips brush his ear, words breeze over,
Willowy promises reaching down his spine.
Words drip from my chin, red
As I crouch over my victims’
Spoils.
Tearing flesh, words work jagged teeth
Across felled friends.
A forest lies in my wake, decay sweet
I lift my nose, spit derision, move
Toward the horizon.
Words soothe, a calming balm
On wounds
Hidden
Under sarcasm, quick wit. My heart strains
As infection festers
away from prying eyes.
away from prying eyes.
Silent, my heart slows it’s beat, crushed
under the weight
Of words.
The second poem I would like to dedicate to my dad. He is absolutely my #1 fan, my biggest cheerleader and the person voted most likely to cry when he reads this. I love you, daddy. You mean the world to me and I am grateful that you are so full of love for my babies.
Growing Up
by Susan Carbajal
She was a difficult child. Teachers called her
Sensitive, scheduled conferences.
Suicide almost took her life. He watched her, helpless,
His heart throbbing in pain where she had pierced it.
Growing up was difficult
For her.
To watch.
Awkward, she struggled to fly
Away to new friends, new
Opportunities.
She left for college, potential swelling
In front of her, fear awash in her wake.
His hair grayed as she fought the demon
Alcohol, almost lost
Everything.
His heart dried up, empty
From hope lost through small leaks.
Small slivers burrowed back in
As she clawed up
From the mire,
From the destruction
She had wielded over herself.
Years passed and his heart grew
Back, softened
By new potential, spring
After things lie dead and dormant.
Pregnant
With hope
With the first grandchild,
he feared
That his heart had reached capacity.
In the hospital room he rounded
The bed, laid eyes on the mewling
New
Helpless
Form next to her.
A thousand beams, birthed
From the seeds of hope dropped
On fertile soil,
Tear at his heart, spill out
Onto cheeks wrinkled
From laughter
From worry.
His grandson is beautiful, his eyes declare,
The best of everyone contained in a new
Skein, supple and pliable.
His daughter in tears, he reflects that growing up
Has agreed with her. Sensitive has moved
From liability to asset.
Demons have been conquered, opportunity
Stretches
Into the horizon
Into the heart of his new grandson.
I feel like poetry is akin to sculptors working in clay, marble, etc. The artists say that the sculpture is there and it's just their job to chip away at all the parts that don't belong. I feel like it's the same way with poems. It's all there, I just have to make sure there aren't words getting in the way.
And now the worst part of writing and (eek!) putting it on the interwebs. I have to sit and wait, my heart pounding, to see what people think about it. (Because obviously I don't know what to think about it unless other people tell me. That's not entirely true but I am very suggestible.)
Thursday, March 12, 2015
A Beautiful Gift in (God's) Perfect Time
I am seldom at a loss for words. It just doesn't happen. The gift
God heaped on me was using words and so it's very rare that I find myself
unable to form words.
I am happy to report that this just
happened earlier this evening.
Let me lay the groundwork.
Anyone who reads my blog regularly knows
that this winter just knocked it all out of me. Like everything--all my hope,
all my sanity, all my health. All the meters were on zero at one point. My
attendance at my Thursday activities (MOPS and Bible study) has been spotty at
best. Really, I've made it to less than half of all of the meetings, either
because I or my kids were sick.
One of the times I made it to Bible study,
back in January, I was death-metal angry with God. I mean, I was lobbing profanity-laced
prayers at him. Things had come to a head with Brian's job, our health
was awful, my depression was deep and black and seemingly endless.
I went to this particular Bible study
fuming mad. I mean, if I had been a cartoon character, there would have been a
black smoke cloud over my head. I was feeling very low. I had hoped that I
could keep all of that to myself. I love to use words but I hesitate to use
ugly words in front of people who hardly know me. I prefer to try and keep the
illusion of my perfection alive for as long as possible.
I had no intention of letting the dam
break that day. I drew an extensive picture in my Bible study binder, I thought
ugly things and I sat in the back of the room.
But God had a plan.
Someone said something and it set me off.
The person who said it has been through the wringer, too. She is not in the
wringer now, but she has been there. She knows the pain I am feeling. The words
she spoke are true for her now, after having been wrung out. She was not being
condescending or Christian-y or anything like that. She was speaking God's
truth.
It was the straw that broke the camel's
back. It felt like the words she spoke were like water on hot coals. I steamed
over and let angry words pour out of me. Trust me, they weren't the uncensored
version. It was definitely the PG version of the very R-rated rant that had
been building in my brain.
The leader, another wonderful and
authentic woman of Christ, asked to pray for me. I angrily said no, because I
didn't want the prayers. I didn't want to be comforted, I didn't want to be
patted on the back. I wanted to hit something. I wanted to break something. I was foot-stomping, tantrum-throwing mad at God.
That day, before I left (early, before
class was even over), one of the women in the study gave me $50. I was so
ashamed by that. One of the reasons I never like to share is because I don't
want people to think I'm going around with my hand out. I don't like charity. I am grateful for it, oh
so grateful, but I don't like it. I don't like being powerless.
It feels overwhelming to have people be generous with me. I don't feel like I
deserve it.
I wanted to give the money back. The
problem was that there was something I had to pay for and it ended up costing
(almost exactly) $50 more than I was expecting it to cost. I had to swallow my
pride and put the gift down on the counter at the vet's office.
Since that day in January, my anger and
vitriol has mellowed. I am still frustrated by the situations swirling around
us. As I told a friend, I am not Pollyanna about the situations, but I'm not so
death metal about them anymore. I have been able to make it to MOPS and Bible
study, though we still have been dealing with ill health.
So a month ago, I went to Bible study. I
have not been intentional or disciplined about my homework. I started off the
year doing pretty well, but with everything that has happened (coupled with the
normal activities of life), I have fallen off pretty steeply with it. A month
ago, I did complete some of the homework. We were just being done with the
stomach flu, so my half-hearted stab at it felt like more than enough effort.
Two weeks ago, I was starting to battle a
sinus/ear infection, so I didn't attend the study. Tomorrow is the next Bible
study day. Accordingly, after painting with my girlfriends tonight, I sat down
on the couch and opened my binder.
There was an envelope in the left side of
the binder, peeking out above the built-in pocket of the vinyl binder. It was
plain and white and had my name written on it in block letters. It was
thick and I assumed it was a letter of encouragement. I really didn't
have a clue about it's contents.
It wasn't until I saw the contents of the
envelope that I lost the ability to speak. I pulled a stack of 10 $100 bills. I
started bawling. Brian was sitting on the other end of our sectional and I
looked at him and gestured toward the envelope. I was gobsmacked and could do
nothing more than gesture and make random squeaking noises. He seemed a bit
annoyed and so I waved him over to see what I was talking about. Then I really
lost it, because when he took the money into his hands, it somehow became more
real.
Someone in my Bible study gave my family
$1000. Even typing that makes me burst into tears. I don't feel like anything I
could write could adequately express my gratitude. I don't feel like words
could measure how tremendous a gift this is for my family. It gives us some
margin where there hasn't been any. It means that tomorrow, when I
go to the store, I can buy all the fresh produce we will need to
make it through to next week, rather than just a few apples to fudge our way
through. It means my savings will quadruple by the end of the month. I won't
have to stop saving in order to afford paying for Bekah's dance class and
recital costumes. I can have money set aside for emergencies.
I am ashamed that I didn't discover the
gift until tonight. It means that there was $1000 sitting in my garage, in my
untouched binder, for a month. A solid month. I am ashamed that my family needs
a gift like this. I am ashamed because I will never be able to thank the people
who were so abundantly kind to me.
But here's the thing. These gracious people, who gifted this to us, were I know following God's prompting. They want
to be anonymous because they don't want to take credit for doing something God
was calling them to do. To those people, I thank you for listening and
responding to God's calling. I know you know how much this means to my family.
I know you know how grateful I am for such a generous gift. Earlier today I
counted the money I had left for groceries and wasn't sure how it would stretch to cover all we needed.
It reminded me of a story in 1 Kings 17, where
Elijah encounters a widow upon arriving in Zeraphath. He asks her for water and
a slice of bread. She is honest with him--she is gathering sticks to go home
and use the remaining oil and flour she has to make a meal for herself and her
son...and then die. Elijah then says, (v. 13-14, NIV), "Elijah said to her,
"Don't be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small
loaf of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make
something for yourself and your sonFor this is what the LORD, the God of
Israel, says: 'The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not
run dry until the day the LORD sends rain on the land.'"
Whenever I am feeling like there's not enough for groceries, I think about that story. I know that no matter what, there will always be enough. I don't think about that with wants, but I know that our needs will always, always be met. And they always have been. So reading this story is more than just reading words on a page. It's an affirmation for me that what God writes about in the Bible is really true. This is so huge for someone whose faith is low. This has done more than provide for my family financially--it has replenished our faith stores (which were dangerously low) and given us some rest.
Dear
readers, please understand something important. God is not a vending machine or
Santa Claus. He is not in the business of giving us what we want in the way
that we want it. He is in the business of meeting our needs. He is sovereign
and knows how best to do that. Frequently, it doesn't look the way we think it
should. I have often joked, through our financial struggles, that what I want
is a sack of cash on my front porch. God, in his infinite wisdom, knows that
this is not the best way to answer our prayers.
I want to make it so clear that God's provision has been on my family in so many myriad ways over the past seven or so years. It has sometimes been in this way, anonymous gifts of money. More often, though, it is smaller (though not less significant) gifts, of food or toys for the kids or clothes. The gifts have always come just when we needed them, when we were most desperate for a sign that God was still holding us in the palm of His hand.
It's been my hope, through all of this, that God would be given glory for any beautiful thing that comes out of these struggles. I consider all of my children gifts from God, but Doug especially because he was born a month after we had filed for bankruptcy. I don't think there was any better way for God to show us hope than with the birth of our beautiful, crazy boy. This latest gift, then, is all about God. It's not about the person who gifted it. I am not obligated to pay them back, to give an accounting of how I've spent each dime. As it is a gift from God, I am beholden to God about it. I don't have to seek these people out and gush about how wonderful they are; that's not the point of the gift. They don't want me to feel tied to them inexplicably. They don't want me to thank them--they want me to give thanks to God, which is upon whom I will heap the thanks.
Friends, please know that this doesn't solve all our problems. I am not seeing this as the final provision or the resolution of this season of our life. Rather, I see it as further affirmation that God has a plan for our lives. His hand of provision is ever-present, tangible and real. It's not empty words in an old book--it is alive and well, living in the hearts of the people around me who, like me, are Christ-followers in a broken world.
A month ago, things were about the same but our pockets were a bit more padded. This gift would have been just as remarkable back then, but receiving it tonight made it so much easier to see that the gift came straight from God. This doesn't completely assuage my guilt about not doing my bible study homework, but obviously God knew my heart well enough to know that I'd get the gift at the right time.
Kevin Hart was on Conan a while back. He was speaking about his mother, who has supported him wholly in his dream to become a comedian. She told him she would pay for his rent for the first year he was in L.A. Before he left her house, she gave him a Bible. Every month, he would call her and ask her where the rent check was. She would ask if he had been reading his Bible. "Yes," he would say, "but mom, I need that rent check." She just kept telling him to read his Bible. He was so frustrated and fell behind in paying his rent. After a few months of this, he was very close to being evicted. He finally sat down and opened the Bible, only to find that his mom had tucked the rent checks into different pages of the Bible.
This story takes on such new meaning to me. I have been pleading with God lately, mostly that he would provide the right job and the right conditions for Brian. All along, the answer has always been to study His word more. I am hopeful that I am able to finish strong with this study. I feel a renewed sense of energy and faith in God. I don't know any more of His plan than I did 4 hours ago, when I found the gift. I do, however, have affirmation that God knows the plan and has my family firmly gripped in his powerful hands.
Please continue to pray for Brian's job search. I will remain hopeful that the right job is out there. God's timing is always perfect, always. He is so good to us.
Monday, March 9, 2015
Slow and Steady Wins the Race
A couple of weeks ago, a close friend shared that she was overwhelmed. She has been trying to get healthy for some time. The problem, as she sees it, is that there are too many people giving advice. Even more, the advice they give tends to be self-serving.
What I mean is, the people who are trying to help people get healthy are usually selling some kind of shake, powder, pill, meal plan, etc. I do not disagree with my friend. Step over to a Barnes & Noble (remember what those are) or the library and there is a plethora of books available on the subject of getting healthy.
I feel like celebrities are following some invisible protocol whereby they should all release a book on healthy eating or living. Gwyneth Paltrow has done it, as have Cameron Diaz and 50 Cent.
Here's my problem. This friend has some amount of disposable income, so she can decide to embark on a 21-day fix or some such program. I, on the other hand, have no disposable income available for things like that. I work with my fabulous trainer, Kate, and I feel like my money is well-spent with her. Other than that, I try to spend the remaining amount of money I have on healthy foods.
What my friend said was upsetting for me. I got upset because here is a well-educated, talented girl who is just feeling so overwhelmed by All the Things, as she would say. There is just so much information on what to eat, what not to eat, when to eat it, how much to eat, when to work out, what kind of workout is best, etc., etc. It is like swimming in a turbulent ocean and not being able to find your footing.
This all got me thinking. I am by no means an expert in weight loss or nutrition. I have, however, managed to (very slowly) lose about 60 pounds and overhaul my eating in the past three years. As my funds so far have been very limited, I've done most of it while not spending too much money at all. So I decided to make a list of the ten things I've done to lose weight. Most, if not all, require very few resources. I am hoping there are ten, because lists should always have ten things (in my mind, anyway).
So here goes.
1. Drink water. This is, by far, the easiest way to lose weight. Our bodies are made up of mostly water. In general, we are not drinking enough. If you are feeling thirsty, you are already dehydrated. In some cases, your body can mistake the feeling of thirst for the feeling of hunger. This can cause you to eat unnecessarily and inadvertently pack on the pounds. Not sure which one it is? Drink a full 8 ounces of water and wait 20 minutes. If you are still hungry, eat! If not, drink some more water and wait to eat until your next meal. Aim for 8 8-ounce glasses of water. Drink more if you indulge in any pop, coffee or other beverages. (I am currently doing a challenge on Facebook where I am aiming for 80 ounces of water a day. It's kind of nuts, but I am noticing a decrease in my appetite in general and in my craving for sweets.)
2. Put your fork down. Yep, that sounds nuts. The reality is that we tend to eat too fast. In other parts of the world, meals are seen as a gathering, an opportunity for conversations and friendships. Here, however, we tend to shovel our food down as fast as we can--we have things to do! We have to take our kids to All the Places. I get it, I really do. Wednesday nights are rushed around here. I never, ever, start dinner prep soon enough. Like ever. So typically I am wolfing down my meal as I'm getting ready to race Bekah to AWANA. My suggestion is this--during meals that you are able, put your fork down between bites. So simple, I know, but it does a couple of things. First, it allows you to savor what you are eating. You will actually have a chance to enjoy the taste of what you have made. Second, it slows down the process of eating. There is a disconnect between your brain and your stomach. Typically, it takes 20 minutes for the two organs to communicate fullness to one another. If you are eating more slowly, you are giving a chance for your body to tell you that it's full. You will be amazed at how much you will not be able to eat just by doing this. (For extra credit, take a sip of water after every bite. This will also help you feel fuller sooner.
3. Put your phone/iPad/TV program/book down. This correlates with number 2. If you are not paying attention to your food and to the activity of eating, you are going to eat more than you should. Meals (again, when possible), should be a chance for you and your family to connect with one another. Even if you're single, take 15 minutes to eat a meal without distraction. The emails/texts/FB updates will be there for you when you're done. Brian and I started doing this at the beginning of February and it's made a difference in how much we're eating. We actually have leftovers a lot more than we ever did before.
4. Skip takeout. Look, I am ambitious. (And also lack a plethora of disposable income.) I make most of our family's meals almost every single day. I do plan for leftovers 2-3 times a week, but otherwise I am cooking meals from scratch. Roll your eyes, I know. You have to do All the Things. You can't cook every meal at home. You like the food at Portillo's a lot. Trust me, I get it. I really do. Here's what I will say, though. Food that is prepared in restaurants usually comes in portions that are too big. Food that is prepared in restaurants has a higher sodium and sugar content than food prepared at home. Food that is prepared in restaurants is typically not as fresh as that which is prepared at home. Hey, listen--I love Portillo's. I used to order a Big Beef with mozzarella cheese and a large order of fries, plus a slice of chocolate cake (cause, yum). Since I've started eating more food that I prepare myself, I can't tolerate that much food from Portillo's. The sandwiches and fries, while still yummy, taste much saltier than they ever used to taste. I cannot eat movie theater popcorn in any quantity. Panera's baked goods taste very stale to me. Again, I know there are healthy choices now at a lot of restaurants. I'm saying, even if they are labeled healthy, the food you prepare at home is much better for you in the long run. Try to eat two less meals out a week (or month or however often you eat out). You will start to see a big difference in how your taste buds operate.
5. Move more. Weight loss is really nothing more than expending more calories than you ingest. I love to run and I have learned to love working with Kate, my trainer. Again, that costs some money. However, there are exercise videos available at the library for free! Yep, free. If you are starting out with moving more, take a representative sample home from the library and find what you enjoy. If it's Zumba, great. If it's Jillian Michaels yelling at you, fantastic. Aim to move more than you had previously moved. I'm not saying to start working out 60 minutes a day. That's crazy and you'll never sustain it. Start small--even 15 minutes of cardiovascular exercise (where you have difficulty carrying on a conversation) a day is great! If you are just starting out, don't stress about a heart-rate monitor, FitBit, etc. Those are great tools but they are not necessary for helping you get started. Please note, tools like My Fitness Pal will help you estimate how many calories a specific exercise will burn. Always underestimate. You don't want to eat all of the calories you are burning.
6. Eat more nutrient-dense foods. Hal Higdon, in his book on marathon training, suggests eating a "wide variety of lightly-processed foods." This does not mean becoming a gourmet, drastically restricting your diet, adopting a crazy set of rules about food. This means, if you have a choice between orange juice and an orange, pick an orange. Read labels more. Even if something is marketed as organic or gluten free, read the label. Anything you're buying in a bag, box or can has a lot of sodium and other yuck in it. Again, I'm not saying to cook everything from scratch or throw out all the boxes, cans and bags in your house. What I'm saying is, educate yourself. Be a good consumer--there is nothing wrong with taking your time through the store looking for healthier options.
7. Ditch the snack foods. I know, revolutionary. My family hardly ever has cookies, candy, sweets, or any snack in a single-serving pack in our home. We have pretzels, we make popcorn in our air popper, and every once in a while I bake something at home. My philosophy is that if it's not in my house, I'm not as prone to want to mindlessly eat it. I spent some money on small Glad containers (snack-size) and use those to pack things for my kids lunches. I save money not buying fruit snacks, chips and other things that are typical lunch fare. I also save a lot of calories. This is a great opportunity to swap out a salty/sugary snack for a whole food like fruit, nuts, granola, etc. Again, more nutrition, less calories will lead to weight loss.
8. Educate yourself. The library is a great resource for books on nutrition. One of my favorites is Salt, Sugar, Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us, by Michael Moss. He is a journalist who takes a very meticulous look at how the big food manufacturers produce their food. It's eye-opening and is one of the reasons my family doesn't eat out as much and stays away from a lot of processed foods. A word of caution--too much information can be a dangerous thing. My general rule of thumb is to be picky with what I read. I like Mr. Moss because he is a journalist. He's not trying to sell me on buying a bunch of supplements and other things. Rather, he is trying to educate me. I have mixed feelings on Michael Pollan (The Herbivore's Dilemma) because I feel he takes too hard a line about how we should consume our food. I don't have the resources at my disposal to only shop at farmer's markets. So use good judgement. Talk to friends about what books have helped them--be sure to listen to whether or not they ended up subsequently plopping down a bunch of money for food the book "suggested." This probably means you should steer clear. (I would also recommend Fast Food Nation, by Eric Schlosser, for the same reasons I recommend Salt, Sugar, Fat. Schlosser is an investigative journalist and he shines a light on the fast food industry. Really a fascinating read.)
9. Dump the carbonated beverages. I have heard more and more studies lately about how harmful Diet Coke, Coke, etc., are for our bodies. As someone who used to drink gallons of Diet Coke a month, I can tell you that it was not doing me any favors. I wasn't drinking enough water, was craving sugar and other salty foods and constantly felt fatigued and "blah." I gave up Diet Coke two years ago and I've not looked back. I will say that I occasionally enjoy a Sierra Mist, 7UP or Sprite. I don't get as much satisfaction out of them as I used to get. Even more, I've had an uptick in bladder infections after I consume them. (My mom also has this issue, which is why she doesn't drink them at all.) I mention Diet Coke because it is touted as a diet beverage. There is nothing about it that contributes to a healthy lifestyle, in my opinion. Dump it. If that seems overwhelming, cut your consumption in half, wait a month and cut it in half again, until you have quit altogether. I can almost guarantee that you won't miss it or the pounds you will lose when you stop drinking it. Can't imagine life without carbonation? Try La Croix. I haven't, because that's not really my thing. I tried coffee for a while but it was tearing up my stomach, so I have recently switched to green tea (which is great because it has catechins--Google that). Honestly, I don't miss carbonation as much as I thought I would.
10. Make small, incremental changes. I can't stress enough how huge it has been for me to make small, manageable changes in my diet and lifestyle. I have never, in three years, eliminated an entire food group (I don't consider Diet Coke a food group). I have never said a food is off limits. I have never said I am not allowed to eat at (fill in the blank) restaurant. As a result, I have never felt deprived. I have, however, noticed that my taste buds have changed dramatically. I don't like to eat at restaurants as much, unless the food is really good. I say no to desserts that don't look like they're worth it (even if it's a designated dessert night). I eat less bread, but bread is not off-limits. I started just within the past few weeks shifting how I eat during the day. I used to eat a late breakfast and have three eggs, a baked potato and three slices of toast (along with coffee and sweetener). Now, I started making granola and have that, along with about 8 ounces of whole milk plain yogurt (not as strong as it used to taste) for breakfast. For lunch, I chop up a huge handful of spinach leaves and onions and scramble an equivalent of two egg whites, one regular egg and 3 tablespoons of whole milk all together. I have a baked potato and either water or green tea with honey. I can tell you that I feel less sluggish throughout the day, I am eating far more veggies than I used to and overall am consuming far fewer hidden calories than I was (e.g., in the coffee creamer and butter on my toast). I don't feel like I'm missing my bread too much. I have bread--just the other night I made chicken salad sandwiches--but I'm not eating as much and instead I'm eating more nutrient-dense foods. There is a little more elbow grease involved in my current meal plan, but it's not as much as I previously thought and it's well-spent because my omelets are delicious!
Yay, there were 10! I hope one or more of these will help anyone who is currently overwhelmed in trying to make a change. You don't need to be. There are plenty of ways to make a change without spending too much change. So far, these changes have helped me in a huge way with even my limited resources.
The last rule to remember is Rule #63, not to take yourself too seriously. If making a change in your life seems tedious, you will not stick with it. I guarantee that. Whatever you decide to do to make changes, make sure there is plenty of room for being human. If not, you will find yourself stuck.
What I mean is, the people who are trying to help people get healthy are usually selling some kind of shake, powder, pill, meal plan, etc. I do not disagree with my friend. Step over to a Barnes & Noble (remember what those are) or the library and there is a plethora of books available on the subject of getting healthy.
I feel like celebrities are following some invisible protocol whereby they should all release a book on healthy eating or living. Gwyneth Paltrow has done it, as have Cameron Diaz and 50 Cent.
Here's my problem. This friend has some amount of disposable income, so she can decide to embark on a 21-day fix or some such program. I, on the other hand, have no disposable income available for things like that. I work with my fabulous trainer, Kate, and I feel like my money is well-spent with her. Other than that, I try to spend the remaining amount of money I have on healthy foods.
What my friend said was upsetting for me. I got upset because here is a well-educated, talented girl who is just feeling so overwhelmed by All the Things, as she would say. There is just so much information on what to eat, what not to eat, when to eat it, how much to eat, when to work out, what kind of workout is best, etc., etc. It is like swimming in a turbulent ocean and not being able to find your footing.
This all got me thinking. I am by no means an expert in weight loss or nutrition. I have, however, managed to (very slowly) lose about 60 pounds and overhaul my eating in the past three years. As my funds so far have been very limited, I've done most of it while not spending too much money at all. So I decided to make a list of the ten things I've done to lose weight. Most, if not all, require very few resources. I am hoping there are ten, because lists should always have ten things (in my mind, anyway).
So here goes.
1. Drink water. This is, by far, the easiest way to lose weight. Our bodies are made up of mostly water. In general, we are not drinking enough. If you are feeling thirsty, you are already dehydrated. In some cases, your body can mistake the feeling of thirst for the feeling of hunger. This can cause you to eat unnecessarily and inadvertently pack on the pounds. Not sure which one it is? Drink a full 8 ounces of water and wait 20 minutes. If you are still hungry, eat! If not, drink some more water and wait to eat until your next meal. Aim for 8 8-ounce glasses of water. Drink more if you indulge in any pop, coffee or other beverages. (I am currently doing a challenge on Facebook where I am aiming for 80 ounces of water a day. It's kind of nuts, but I am noticing a decrease in my appetite in general and in my craving for sweets.)
2. Put your fork down. Yep, that sounds nuts. The reality is that we tend to eat too fast. In other parts of the world, meals are seen as a gathering, an opportunity for conversations and friendships. Here, however, we tend to shovel our food down as fast as we can--we have things to do! We have to take our kids to All the Places. I get it, I really do. Wednesday nights are rushed around here. I never, ever, start dinner prep soon enough. Like ever. So typically I am wolfing down my meal as I'm getting ready to race Bekah to AWANA. My suggestion is this--during meals that you are able, put your fork down between bites. So simple, I know, but it does a couple of things. First, it allows you to savor what you are eating. You will actually have a chance to enjoy the taste of what you have made. Second, it slows down the process of eating. There is a disconnect between your brain and your stomach. Typically, it takes 20 minutes for the two organs to communicate fullness to one another. If you are eating more slowly, you are giving a chance for your body to tell you that it's full. You will be amazed at how much you will not be able to eat just by doing this. (For extra credit, take a sip of water after every bite. This will also help you feel fuller sooner.
3. Put your phone/iPad/TV program/book down. This correlates with number 2. If you are not paying attention to your food and to the activity of eating, you are going to eat more than you should. Meals (again, when possible), should be a chance for you and your family to connect with one another. Even if you're single, take 15 minutes to eat a meal without distraction. The emails/texts/FB updates will be there for you when you're done. Brian and I started doing this at the beginning of February and it's made a difference in how much we're eating. We actually have leftovers a lot more than we ever did before.
4. Skip takeout. Look, I am ambitious. (And also lack a plethora of disposable income.) I make most of our family's meals almost every single day. I do plan for leftovers 2-3 times a week, but otherwise I am cooking meals from scratch. Roll your eyes, I know. You have to do All the Things. You can't cook every meal at home. You like the food at Portillo's a lot. Trust me, I get it. I really do. Here's what I will say, though. Food that is prepared in restaurants usually comes in portions that are too big. Food that is prepared in restaurants has a higher sodium and sugar content than food prepared at home. Food that is prepared in restaurants is typically not as fresh as that which is prepared at home. Hey, listen--I love Portillo's. I used to order a Big Beef with mozzarella cheese and a large order of fries, plus a slice of chocolate cake (cause, yum). Since I've started eating more food that I prepare myself, I can't tolerate that much food from Portillo's. The sandwiches and fries, while still yummy, taste much saltier than they ever used to taste. I cannot eat movie theater popcorn in any quantity. Panera's baked goods taste very stale to me. Again, I know there are healthy choices now at a lot of restaurants. I'm saying, even if they are labeled healthy, the food you prepare at home is much better for you in the long run. Try to eat two less meals out a week (or month or however often you eat out). You will start to see a big difference in how your taste buds operate.
5. Move more. Weight loss is really nothing more than expending more calories than you ingest. I love to run and I have learned to love working with Kate, my trainer. Again, that costs some money. However, there are exercise videos available at the library for free! Yep, free. If you are starting out with moving more, take a representative sample home from the library and find what you enjoy. If it's Zumba, great. If it's Jillian Michaels yelling at you, fantastic. Aim to move more than you had previously moved. I'm not saying to start working out 60 minutes a day. That's crazy and you'll never sustain it. Start small--even 15 minutes of cardiovascular exercise (where you have difficulty carrying on a conversation) a day is great! If you are just starting out, don't stress about a heart-rate monitor, FitBit, etc. Those are great tools but they are not necessary for helping you get started. Please note, tools like My Fitness Pal will help you estimate how many calories a specific exercise will burn. Always underestimate. You don't want to eat all of the calories you are burning.
6. Eat more nutrient-dense foods. Hal Higdon, in his book on marathon training, suggests eating a "wide variety of lightly-processed foods." This does not mean becoming a gourmet, drastically restricting your diet, adopting a crazy set of rules about food. This means, if you have a choice between orange juice and an orange, pick an orange. Read labels more. Even if something is marketed as organic or gluten free, read the label. Anything you're buying in a bag, box or can has a lot of sodium and other yuck in it. Again, I'm not saying to cook everything from scratch or throw out all the boxes, cans and bags in your house. What I'm saying is, educate yourself. Be a good consumer--there is nothing wrong with taking your time through the store looking for healthier options.
7. Ditch the snack foods. I know, revolutionary. My family hardly ever has cookies, candy, sweets, or any snack in a single-serving pack in our home. We have pretzels, we make popcorn in our air popper, and every once in a while I bake something at home. My philosophy is that if it's not in my house, I'm not as prone to want to mindlessly eat it. I spent some money on small Glad containers (snack-size) and use those to pack things for my kids lunches. I save money not buying fruit snacks, chips and other things that are typical lunch fare. I also save a lot of calories. This is a great opportunity to swap out a salty/sugary snack for a whole food like fruit, nuts, granola, etc. Again, more nutrition, less calories will lead to weight loss.
8. Educate yourself. The library is a great resource for books on nutrition. One of my favorites is Salt, Sugar, Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us, by Michael Moss. He is a journalist who takes a very meticulous look at how the big food manufacturers produce their food. It's eye-opening and is one of the reasons my family doesn't eat out as much and stays away from a lot of processed foods. A word of caution--too much information can be a dangerous thing. My general rule of thumb is to be picky with what I read. I like Mr. Moss because he is a journalist. He's not trying to sell me on buying a bunch of supplements and other things. Rather, he is trying to educate me. I have mixed feelings on Michael Pollan (The Herbivore's Dilemma) because I feel he takes too hard a line about how we should consume our food. I don't have the resources at my disposal to only shop at farmer's markets. So use good judgement. Talk to friends about what books have helped them--be sure to listen to whether or not they ended up subsequently plopping down a bunch of money for food the book "suggested." This probably means you should steer clear. (I would also recommend Fast Food Nation, by Eric Schlosser, for the same reasons I recommend Salt, Sugar, Fat. Schlosser is an investigative journalist and he shines a light on the fast food industry. Really a fascinating read.)
9. Dump the carbonated beverages. I have heard more and more studies lately about how harmful Diet Coke, Coke, etc., are for our bodies. As someone who used to drink gallons of Diet Coke a month, I can tell you that it was not doing me any favors. I wasn't drinking enough water, was craving sugar and other salty foods and constantly felt fatigued and "blah." I gave up Diet Coke two years ago and I've not looked back. I will say that I occasionally enjoy a Sierra Mist, 7UP or Sprite. I don't get as much satisfaction out of them as I used to get. Even more, I've had an uptick in bladder infections after I consume them. (My mom also has this issue, which is why she doesn't drink them at all.) I mention Diet Coke because it is touted as a diet beverage. There is nothing about it that contributes to a healthy lifestyle, in my opinion. Dump it. If that seems overwhelming, cut your consumption in half, wait a month and cut it in half again, until you have quit altogether. I can almost guarantee that you won't miss it or the pounds you will lose when you stop drinking it. Can't imagine life without carbonation? Try La Croix. I haven't, because that's not really my thing. I tried coffee for a while but it was tearing up my stomach, so I have recently switched to green tea (which is great because it has catechins--Google that). Honestly, I don't miss carbonation as much as I thought I would.
10. Make small, incremental changes. I can't stress enough how huge it has been for me to make small, manageable changes in my diet and lifestyle. I have never, in three years, eliminated an entire food group (I don't consider Diet Coke a food group). I have never said a food is off limits. I have never said I am not allowed to eat at (fill in the blank) restaurant. As a result, I have never felt deprived. I have, however, noticed that my taste buds have changed dramatically. I don't like to eat at restaurants as much, unless the food is really good. I say no to desserts that don't look like they're worth it (even if it's a designated dessert night). I eat less bread, but bread is not off-limits. I started just within the past few weeks shifting how I eat during the day. I used to eat a late breakfast and have three eggs, a baked potato and three slices of toast (along with coffee and sweetener). Now, I started making granola and have that, along with about 8 ounces of whole milk plain yogurt (not as strong as it used to taste) for breakfast. For lunch, I chop up a huge handful of spinach leaves and onions and scramble an equivalent of two egg whites, one regular egg and 3 tablespoons of whole milk all together. I have a baked potato and either water or green tea with honey. I can tell you that I feel less sluggish throughout the day, I am eating far more veggies than I used to and overall am consuming far fewer hidden calories than I was (e.g., in the coffee creamer and butter on my toast). I don't feel like I'm missing my bread too much. I have bread--just the other night I made chicken salad sandwiches--but I'm not eating as much and instead I'm eating more nutrient-dense foods. There is a little more elbow grease involved in my current meal plan, but it's not as much as I previously thought and it's well-spent because my omelets are delicious!
Yay, there were 10! I hope one or more of these will help anyone who is currently overwhelmed in trying to make a change. You don't need to be. There are plenty of ways to make a change without spending too much change. So far, these changes have helped me in a huge way with even my limited resources.
The last rule to remember is Rule #63, not to take yourself too seriously. If making a change in your life seems tedious, you will not stick with it. I guarantee that. Whatever you decide to do to make changes, make sure there is plenty of room for being human. If not, you will find yourself stuck.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
On Seeking Community
I am at my parents' house watching their dogs. I am getting ready to go to the library. Those of you who know me know that the library is close to being a house of worship for me. I have loved books and writing for a long time. It's something that brings me a lot of joy. There is something comforting in admitting to the librarian that I don't want to be without a book over a long weekend. Even more comforting? When she says she feels the same way.
My sophomore year English teacher, Mrs. Morrison, thought it was important that we learn the Latin and Greek roots for words. I mentioned in my last blog post that English can be a very limited language, but learning Greek and Latin cracks the language wide open.
For example, the word community comes from the Latin word "communis." It means "common, public, general." The root, comm, is the beginning of a lot of words that denote togetherness--think commune, community, committee.
I have been writing since before I was in high school. I had a great writing community in high school, but after I graduated I lost track with that group of people. I have never sought out a new community for plenty of reasons. Chief among them are fear and arrogance.
I'll start with fear. I am an outgoing person, there is no question. I am the one who greets new people, I am good at conversing with random people, I thrive on being in the middle of groups. It's what drives me.
The exception is that I don't like to walk into places where I know no one. It's a scary thing, to not know a single person in the room that I'm entering.
It seems crazy, I know. That's what's so lovely about me--I'm not always a foregone conclusion.
The other reason, arrogance, is a tougher one to overcome.
I was told in high school (and have been told by other people on several occasions) that I am an excellent writer. I'm not going to argue. I think I am a great writer and I don't mean that in a rude way. I think I've been given a great talent. I do my best to be a good steward of the talent. Blogging is a way I try to cultivate my talent. It's great because I don't have a lot of pretense when I blog. It ends up being close to a stream-of-consciousness. I rarely edit what I'm writing, I do my best to practice honesty and I have a lot of fun seeing how far my posts travel around the world.
I've been a lone wolf for far too long, though. I am still working on a novel (though not as much as I would like) and I will eventually need input and editing from other writers. I typically am snobbish when it comes to deciding whose input is important. It's a very short list and it's mostly the people I know from high school. The problem is that none of them has stayed frozen in high school mode. They have moved on and formed other communities.
It's up to me to do the same. So I am at my parents' house, but I am headed to the library soon. There is a poetry contest being sponsored by the Crystal Lake Public Library. They sponsor it every year--this is the first year that I will be participating.
I am terrified. I have to walk into a room full of strangers. I have debated skipping the kick-off all together, but there is a part of me that wants to size up the competition. (Thanks, arrogance! I see what you did there.) I am hoping that this can be a baby step toward finding and building a new community with writers. The point is that I have to be *with* them in order for that to happen.
I am not sure what my poem will be about. I'd like to think I have a good chance of winning, but then who knows how the judges will feel about what I write.
My fear is trying to convince me to stay here, with a puppy on my arm, listening to the Juno soundtrack. I am more comfortable here but nothing great ever started with, "so I was sitting at my computer one day...."
So I've got to do this. I've got to suck it up. I've got to take the next right action and then the one after that, until I've gotten to a place where I'm squirming a little bit. That's where you'll find me, in case you want to look.
Wish me luck.
My sophomore year English teacher, Mrs. Morrison, thought it was important that we learn the Latin and Greek roots for words. I mentioned in my last blog post that English can be a very limited language, but learning Greek and Latin cracks the language wide open.
For example, the word community comes from the Latin word "communis." It means "common, public, general." The root, comm, is the beginning of a lot of words that denote togetherness--think commune, community, committee.
I have been writing since before I was in high school. I had a great writing community in high school, but after I graduated I lost track with that group of people. I have never sought out a new community for plenty of reasons. Chief among them are fear and arrogance.
I'll start with fear. I am an outgoing person, there is no question. I am the one who greets new people, I am good at conversing with random people, I thrive on being in the middle of groups. It's what drives me.
The exception is that I don't like to walk into places where I know no one. It's a scary thing, to not know a single person in the room that I'm entering.
It seems crazy, I know. That's what's so lovely about me--I'm not always a foregone conclusion.
The other reason, arrogance, is a tougher one to overcome.
I was told in high school (and have been told by other people on several occasions) that I am an excellent writer. I'm not going to argue. I think I am a great writer and I don't mean that in a rude way. I think I've been given a great talent. I do my best to be a good steward of the talent. Blogging is a way I try to cultivate my talent. It's great because I don't have a lot of pretense when I blog. It ends up being close to a stream-of-consciousness. I rarely edit what I'm writing, I do my best to practice honesty and I have a lot of fun seeing how far my posts travel around the world.
I've been a lone wolf for far too long, though. I am still working on a novel (though not as much as I would like) and I will eventually need input and editing from other writers. I typically am snobbish when it comes to deciding whose input is important. It's a very short list and it's mostly the people I know from high school. The problem is that none of them has stayed frozen in high school mode. They have moved on and formed other communities.
It's up to me to do the same. So I am at my parents' house, but I am headed to the library soon. There is a poetry contest being sponsored by the Crystal Lake Public Library. They sponsor it every year--this is the first year that I will be participating.
I am terrified. I have to walk into a room full of strangers. I have debated skipping the kick-off all together, but there is a part of me that wants to size up the competition. (Thanks, arrogance! I see what you did there.) I am hoping that this can be a baby step toward finding and building a new community with writers. The point is that I have to be *with* them in order for that to happen.
I am not sure what my poem will be about. I'd like to think I have a good chance of winning, but then who knows how the judges will feel about what I write.
My fear is trying to convince me to stay here, with a puppy on my arm, listening to the Juno soundtrack. I am more comfortable here but nothing great ever started with, "so I was sitting at my computer one day...."
So I've got to do this. I've got to suck it up. I've got to take the next right action and then the one after that, until I've gotten to a place where I'm squirming a little bit. That's where you'll find me, in case you want to look.
Wish me luck.
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