Words Paint

Best Intentions

2012-01-18T15:43:00.000-08:00

Here's a link to a poem that really says it all... better than I could ever hope. One of those poems where "hmmmmms" involuntarily escaped from deep withing my chest with every line.

Food Myths

2011-12-10T23:16:00.001-08:00

At our OA meeting today, I started thinking about the myths I hold to be true about food. I call them myths, because that's mostly what they are, although there may be partial or occasional truth involved with some of them. Here are the myths:

I'm a busy, active person. Therefore, I need to eat a lot of food.
I need a lot of protein.
If it's mealtime, I should eat... even when I'm not hungry.
I should always eat when I'm hungry, having at least a snack if it's not mealtime.
If one helping tastes good and satisfies me, more will be even better.
Carbs and sweets will make me feel better.
Carbs and sweets will alleviate boredom.
Getting together with friends should always involve eating.
When company comes, I need to feed them well, or they will think I'm a terrible hostess.
I deserve food treats.
I am entitled to food treats as rewards.
Thin people don't eat enough; they are unhealthy.
A little bit of food won't hurt me.
I show my love for people, by feeding them.
I give myself love when I feed myself.
It's natural to want to eat
I can't stop myself from eating too much.
I can eat too much of _____ right now and not ever do it again.
I'm tall and big; therefore my body need a lot of fuel.
On the days I walk for an hour, I deserve and need extra food.

Humph!!!!

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Gratitude for today: walking with Gayle, my new computer, Robert's wacky (make me giggle) sense of humor, improved water filter, Great Courses, my hands

If Food Isn't the Answer, What Is?????

2011-12-03T16:00:00.000-08:00

Because of the wise practice of one of my fellow OA members, I've started meeting myself in the kitchen at those times when I find myself there searching the shelves. As soon as I become aware of myself standing there (sometimes I haven't a clue how I got there....), I mention to myself, "The answer isn't here."

Sometimes I reply to myself, "Who cares, I'm going to eat chips, peanut butter or whatever anyway!" Other times I reply, "Yeah, you're right. Guess I'll make some tea. Or, guess I'll go back to work." I like the practice. It's working.

Today, though, I got to thinking, "OK, so the answer isn't here, then where is it?" I'm going to modify the practice a bit to include this question. Just for fun, I think I'll try to answer it for a couple of senarios.

I'm in the kitchen. I realize the answer isn't there. I ask, "the answer to what?"

1. Boredom. That's a biggie. I've always sought food when I'm bored. So where is the answer to boredom? Here are some possibilities:
--->change - do something different, something new perhaps
--->service - do something for somebody else, my husband perhaps
--->fresh air - go for a walk, play in the garden, sit on the deck

2. Fear. Yup, that's another biggie. Been wrestling with that one a lot lately, especially about installing and learning my new computer and operating system. So where is the answer to fear if it's not on the kitchen shelves? Here are some possibilities:
--->ask for help - this worked with the computer; I asked my husband
--->just do it - do it anyway; ramrod right over the fear
--->baby steps - do the thing I do know or do understand; forget the big picture

3. Being stuck. This doesn't happen so often. But sometimes I'm waiting on information from somebody before I can do something else. I get stuck. This one is similar to boredom. So there I am in the kitchen a little resentful for having to wait for whatever it is, with time on my hands to kill. So where is the answer to being stuck? Here are some possibilities:
--->keep a list - a daily to do list that includes things which only take a few minutes to do
--->meditate - use the waiting time to meditate
--->write a post - ha ha, that's what I'm doing right now! Waiting for a phone call.

OK, well that's enough for now. I'll see how this works and if I can expand the list. The steps are:

I'm in the kitchen and it's not meal time
I remind myself, "The answer isn't here."
I ask myself, "The answer to WHAT isn't here?"
I recognize the need or feeling or mood and name it.
I ask myself, "OK, then, where might the answer be?"

It's a plan, Sam!

Ah-ha Topic >>>>>>> Changed Me

2011-11-08T23:10:00.000-08:00

The OA topic was "suffering"... how suffering is a habit, how suffering is something we get really good at doing.

Suddenly the previous week flowed through my mind. Suffering was the flagship of the entire week, especially how I suffered (and was bored, tired, driven to binge on chips, sleepless, etc.) working on photographs for the book. When anybody asked me about the book, all I could say is how hard I work, how many long hours I struggle at the computer working in Photoshop, how little money I'm earning doing this book, how I have to sacrifice things I love to do (like read and write blogs). Poor me, I suffer so greatly.

Sitting in the meeting, my mind reached into a little lie I told my husband in the name of suffering. I told him I'd spent 4 hours working on just 1 picture in Photoshop and that I had 7 more pictures to go. Poor me. Poor me. Here's the truth, as far as I can recall: I had actually finished 3 pictures in 4 hours and played a couple of games of Spider solitaire as well. I only had 4 more pictures to go. Why lie? Upping the pity-pot quotient, I guess. Habit. Suffering. I'm good at it. I've been good at it, practicing it daily, for as long as I can remember.

No more. Baby steps toward choosing not to suffer, choosing to tell the truth, choosing to speak about the positive rather than the negative. Not that things aren't hard sometimes. So this week, when people have asked me about the book, I've told the truth, especially I've named the things that are working well.

Want to know the truth? I'm ahead of schedule for my 2nd submission. Recently I read through everything that's finished and honestly find it to be pretty amazing! It could actually become a timless classic, THE reference and inspiration book about beads and beading! That's my new truth, and I'm stickin' to it!

I'm also watching and listening to everything that comes out of my mouth... I try to notice any little exaggeration and to correct myself right on the spot.... with an apologetic... oops, I kinda overstated that.

This is a good change.... a relief to speak the truth... a relief to hear myself name the good things rather than the difficult things, to let go of suffering. And, I'm not Pollyanna. To put it in sportsman terms, I'll say I caught a fish (suffering), but the size of the fish will be realistic rather than drastically exaggerated. This is a very good change!

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And another good change... In my suffering state about the book, I started to eat a lot of chips... Chips every day and lots of them, stuffing in mouthful after mouthful... standing in the kitchen mindlessly munching on chips. Am I exaggerating? Hmmm... Well, maybe a little. But yes, I did eat a lot of chips.

From time to time, a little OA voice would tug on my sleeve and murmur, "you're binging." I ignored it until the day I decided to stop suffering. At that same time, the warning about binging struck me as truth. Abstinence is the OA answer to binging. And abstinent I have been since that day. No more chips. Yay! I'm feeling better about everything. Binging makes me feel crazy. I knew I was close to the brink of no return about eating. I've known it for several months. But now, it's OK again. Whew!

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Gratitude for the day: OA for sure, opportunities, rain, Robert, my family, Liz, Hollie, Lunnette, Christy, Christi, Mom memories.

Calling on the Serenity Prayer for Help

2011-10-03T11:26:00.000-07:00

Horrible time with my husband last evening. I understand that he is feeling abandoned by me as I work so many hours on the book. It comes out as resentment and blame. It involves not only the book but also my family coming here next week, my attention already focused on them and what I can do to make it a good time for them. As the resentment bubble builds, it gets directed at me as anger and blame.

Let me be clear. I am not an angel. I am not blameless. I do enjoy (most of the time) working on the book. I do get engrossed in it to the point of ignoring him. I do emotionally distance him, put him on the back burner, when my attentions are directed toward my family. Maybe I do put them first. Maybe I do care more about doing what I can to make them happy than I do about making my husband happy, at least when they are here. Maybe that is harder on him than I realize or admit.

Calling on the serenity prayer for help: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change,

I can not change that I signed a contract and made a commitment to honor book deadlines.
I can not change my husband's emotions or fix his black hole.
I can not reverse the plans for my family to come here.
I can not make my husband be helpful and supportive toward me in the way I need or want.

the courage to change the things I can,

I can open my heart toward my husband's underlying abandonment issues with compassion and understanding.
I can change my expectations of both myself and him and not expect myself to meet all of his needs or him to meet mine.
I can work on my own anger, blame and resentments.
I can honor and protect the fearful spirit within me, nurturing myself with understanding and compassion.
I change how much I expect myself to solve (control) these issues, and turn it all over, instead, to my higher power.

and the wisdom to know the difference.

Yes, the wisdom to know the difference. That's a tricky one. Obviously from the above, I think I know the difference. But do I? I am filled with doubts at the moment.

I am also filled with gratitude... gratitude for OA, the people in my OA group (the group "conscious" as one member calls it), for Julie, Loretta, PJ, Anne H, Sweetpea, Coral-Seas, DB, Robbie, Dees, Karen, Carol, Lois, and Peggy - who read these ramblings and give their time to write supportive and caring comments - and for my walking partner. Without them, I am well aware that I'd be binging like crazy, gaining several pounds a week, dealing with these hardships by driving to town a couple of times a day to buy cake, cookies, ice cream and the like, hiding in my car and eating without pleasure, the binge voices ever hollering at me for more. What a blessing to be writing around the serenity prayer instead! Now there's a gratitude thing!

2011-10-03T00:18:00.000-07:00

Been in a slump for a while. Have doubts about my ability to do justice to the book I'm currently writing. Wanting it to be really good and really comprehensive, but not quite knowing how to pull it all together. Sometimes it's overwhelming. Sometimes I get bored with it, especially with working on the images, the step-out pictures, in Photoshop. To say it's tedious work is a terrible understatement. My photographic skills and my equipment aren't really up to the job, so I have to spend hours (no exaggeration) working on each photo in Photoshop and still they're not as good as I'd like. Sounds like a gripe. Is a gripe!

Had an accident with my motorcycle a week ago. Damaged my spirits as well as my bike and my foot. Lucky I'm not in a cast though. Spirit damage just adds to the book anxiety.

Then there's my family... three brothers and their wives, sister, 2 nieces, 2 nephews and possibly 1 grandnephew... arriving here next week to scatter Mom's and Dad's ashes. We're not the closest family in many ways, emotionally as well as geographically. I'm nervous about how it will go. My house is a mess... haven't really cleaned, except for the quickest necessities, since I started the book on July 1st. Have never hired a house cleaner, but do have somebody coming on Friday. Expensive, but a blessing, I think. Food, transportation, sleep... all issues. Think I was crazy when I suggested we do it here. Akkkk. Didn't know then that I'd be in the middle of book deadlines now. I guess the cup-half-full news is: I'll get a 1-week break from working on the book. The cup-half-empty news is: I'll have one less week to get everything done for the next deadline.

Obviously, there are some food challenges ahead. I've decided to write a few sentences when I find myself in the kitchen, opening cupboard doors and looking in the refrigerator. OK, so I can eat. But before I do, I will write a couple of sentences in a little kitchen notebook. Maybe I'll choose not to eat after I write. We'll see. It's an experiment.

As I well know, one tool to help me to not overeat and to feel better is gratitude. The earlier paragraphs sound like the cup is more than half empty. So here's my list for today... 10 Things
I'm Grateful For:

kindness, people who are kind to me, especially my women friends
the two people who fought McDonald's in the libel suit and the great documentary movie made about it (McLibel)
everyone in my OA group
women who make spirit-based art, quilts, etc.
our garden
our firewood supply and my husband for doing the work
Julie, Jennifer and Karen (my sisters-in-law)
Janet and her contribution toward sun bear rescue efforts
Mt. Rainier and Mt. Baker
Captain Jack
One year+ of abstinence from my binge foods... a huge blessing!

Do I feel better? Perhaps, a little. Time to get some sleep. Good night, world.

Birthday Girl Missing Mom

2011-09-21T00:57:00.000-07:00

Woke up sad today... and a little cross... even though I had a good night's sleep and it's my birthday... even though plans for the day looked like fun. The first fun thing on the agenda was to meet Christy in town for lunch. I hadn't seen her, at least not to have much of a conversation, for quite a while, so was really looking forward to it.

Driving into town the sadness got very heavy, almost to the point of tears. And suddenly I knew what it was about... missing my Mom. For all but the last two of my 69 birthdays, she's told me she loves me in a card and/or in person and/or on the phone. Even though the last two years she wasn't able to remember or if she was she couldn't find a way to send a card, at least she was there, across the miles in Minnesota, loving me.

Being sad isn't a bad thing, or at least wasn't today. I miss my Mom, and especially I missed her today. That's just the way it is. I accept it. Christy is a mother (and a good one!) and she's warm toward me, almost like a mother. When I met her and she hugged me, I felt good again... and loved, not exactly like Mom loved me, but in a good way. We had a great catch-up talk, delicious food, and I drove home no longer feeling sad.

The rest of the day was fun too. My husband and I took my car and his little pick up truck to the car wash, the do-it-yourself type, for a double bath (it's been a while!) Then we came home and waxed them, by hand. Yikes... my arms got a super work out! I grilled NY steaks and made massaged kale salad for dinner. YUM!!!

For two days, yesterday and today, I have not eaten my way through the day. Three meals each day. No snacks, no after dinner munching. It's true also that I haven't written any new pages for the book. But I was able to work on photos in Photoshop, which is actually more time consuming than writing. It's also quite tedious, so to do it without snacks is an accomplishment.

Tomorrow is another day, I'll try for three and I'll try for at least some writing.

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Gratitude for today: Pretty good health for a 69 year old, Liz and Christy, LL, my Mom, dance, music, purring cat by my side when I go to sleep

Urge to Eat is on Me... Right NOW!

2011-09-19T12:48:00.000-07:00

Time out from book work for Peaceful Bird to have a chat with self in Words Paint.... Been working all morning on the book. Not writing. Haven't tried that yet. But have been working with the project pictures in Photoshop. It's tedious work. Not very creative. I take a dark picture, work levels and brightness until the subject matter looks good. Then I fix blemishes, mostly with the rubber stamp. Next, I fix the dark corners that my sweet little camera always has when doing macro photography. Then comes the hard, woefully time-consuming, and boring part... I add a layer and use it to get rid of the background, so the subject (beads) are on a perfectly white background, yet have sharp edges. Sometimes the process takes 3 or more hours for one photo. Who knew I was signing up for this when I took on the book?

I hear the resentment and entitlement in my own voice. Yep. Resenting the time it takes to do this work. Resenting the boredom I feel while I'm doing it. Resentment begets feelings of entitlement and feelings of entitlement send me right to the kitchen... If I have to do this then I should get that (that being food, of course). Let's examine the wisdom of allowing resentment into this otherwise productive day...

What if I choose to look at gratitude instead? What if I make a gratitude list surrounding my work so far this morning? OK, here we go again... 10 Things for which I feel gratitude regarding my work this morning:

I've been able to figure out how to use Photoshop to fix photos.
My fingers, particularly right-index finger, are not aching today (arthritis in hiding).
The pictures look really good when I finish them.
I had a nice break and took a walk up the hill to the mail box.
Robert rubbed my shoulders for a few moments.
My back isn't hurting too much today.
In a couple more hours, I'll get to check one series of step-out photos off my list!
Good sleep last night. Feeling rested today.
Coffee tastes good. Enjoyed my morning coffee.
Computer is working well today.

OK, well that feels better. I don't feel quite so resentful now. Good idea to come here and write. Maybe I won't have to visit the kitchen after all. Ha!

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Gratitude for today: 10 Things Lists, my friend Liz (who started me making 10 Things Lists), sunshine, crisp fall air, all flowers, driftwood, support of readers of WP.

Priorities

2011-09-18T21:59:00.000-07:00

My priorities are unbalanced or a little off-kilter. Right now it seems I'd rather eat than be healthy. Many self-care things have slipped away since I've been working on the book. I exercise less and I eat more. Some part of me still believes that comfort lies in food and that if I'm working hard on something, I don't need to make time to walk or do my toning exercises. What part is that?

The entitlement part? The part that says: If I am burdened in any way, I deserve to eat. Does it help? NO! Does it make me feel better? NO! Does it get the work done. NO! (I didn't want to write "no" there, because eating seems so forever linked to good and productive writing for me). But, truthfully, the answer has to be no. I don't even test it.

Could I test the hypotheses? Could I for JUST ONE DAY eat according to my food plan (3 sensible meals, no seconds, no snacks) and see if I accomplish any good writing? Could I just do that much? Could I make that a priority? Yes, I certainly could. But will I? What if I say, Yes, I will do that. I will do it tomorrow. What if I say, I will write a report about how it went tomorrow night. Nothing but entitlement to stop me. One of our other OA members says, I can do anything for one day. Surely if that person can, I can too. Can vs. will. Can and will. OK, it's a deal then. I will conduct this experiment for one day. Maybe it will be a myth-buster. Maybe I don't need food to write. Maybe I do. Tomorrow is the test day.

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Today's gratitude: Leah, my fabulous Sony Cyber-shot camera (again), ripe cherry tomatoes (again), everybody who gave support and comments about the situation with my husband (which is much improved right now), pansies, drizzle as an occasion to get out the flannel shirts for fall.

Writing and Eating

2011-09-16T23:11:00.000-07:00

Been writing and eating all day. Many calories. No binge foods. Not the foods that make me feel crazy because of my binging behaviors. Just a little too much of everything and too many snacks and high calorie foods, like pizza.

Writing goes with eating. Always has for me. The tougher the writing task, the more it "helps" to eat. Food in... words out. Seems to work. Today I got the instructions for two projects wrapped up. That's good progress on two rather difficult projects. Bad news is jeans feel really tight. I do not want to go back up a size. If I keep eating and writing, there won't be a choice.

I must keep writing... 35 projects yet to go.

Therefore, the eating needs to change. I can not seem to control it. Duh! Why can't I accept that, like I've accepted it with my binge foods? Forget the word "seem." I flat out can not control it. So, help me, I can not.

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Gratitude for today: green frog sighting in the garden, delicious vegetable dish for dinner (all from garden!), beads

Down, Up, Down

2011-09-15T00:23:00.000-07:00

First, I have to say how surprised and grateful I am to be receiving comments, especially such helpful and supportive ones, when I'm not even visiting other blogs right now. The comments to yesterday's post gave me lots to ponder, especially the reminder that under resentments there is usually fear.

So I've been thinking about that. What are the fears, and under them, what is my deepest fear? How can my husband's displeasure with me have such a profound affect on me? I balk at writing anything.... afraid to look at it or honestly not knowing what it is? OK, what MIGHT it be. Ten things I might be afraid of when I feel resentment and anger toward my husband:

I am in prison, controlled by a somewhat benevolent jailor.
I am incapable of pleasing him.
If he is not pleased with me, then I am not OK as a person.
I do not perceive he cares about me; therefore I am not worthy of kindness.
I do not perceive he respects me; therefore I am not worthy of respect.
I made a mistake when I hooked up with this man.
I am not capable of maintaining a healthy marriage.
I am not free; I am under his control.
I don't know how to maintain boundaries.
I don't know how to get what I need and want in this marriage.

That's a pretty serious list of fears. Now what? There are probably more fears involved and possibly the fear that's under the list is something to do with being abandoned. Maybe it's that if I took myself out of jail by setting and maintaining boundaries, he would abandon me. I'm confused by this thought, because it seems he's already, long ago, abandoned me emotionally, maybe never was there emotionally, never was really interested in me as a person, except in what I can do for him. That's how it feels. Maybe it's not true. I don't really know anything right now, except that I feel scared, resentful, angry, hurt and forsaken in this time of need.

The oddest thing of all is that he'd probably say the same thing about me... that I abandon him and forsake him in his time of need.

Well, no light bulbs tonight. That's the way it goes sometimes...

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Gratitude for the day: some decent book progress today, lunch with a friend, women friends in general, writing, amazing digital cameras (little things that don't cost much and take really good pictures)

Resentments and Blame

2011-09-13T18:30:00.000-07:00

I just tried to call one of the members in my OA group about this topic. Since I got an answering machine, I'm going to try to write about it a bit, maybe have a conversation with myself about it until such time as I can talk with a friendly, sober, clean individual.

Resentment... mine... toward my husband who is angry with me, resentful of the book, and blaming me for his unhappiness. He's not speaking to me since last evening. But he left me a note. Here's one thing it says: "Right now it seems like my part in your life is more of a distraction than a pleasure, and for that it's too bad "the book" has to be so all consuming, especially this month, and in the time we could have had before the October show. It's wearing me out feeling that disconnect with you... " So, he's resentful of me and the book, and I'm resentful that he's resentful. What a viscous circle.

The resentment builds when I think of some of my guest artists whose husbands help them with great enthusiasm and evident pride for their part in the book. This level of support is something I've never had from my husband. My work, whatever it is, just seems to get in the way of whatever it is he wants from me. Resentment. Yep, it's at a pretty high level right now.

Now thinking about OA and the spiritual foundation of the program and about how addiction is fueled by resentments. About clearing resentments away. I've never especially thought of myself as a resentful person previously. I let go of things pretty easily and I prefer the state of peace to the state of anger or resentment.

Because that's the way I am, Peaceful bird, I wrote my husband a reply saying I was sorry and had not anticipated the book and the deadlines would be so tough on us. I asked what he would like from me this month. I told him how much I appreciate his support so far with it (and by that I actually mean that he hasn't thrown any hissy fits about it until yesterday). He's still not talking to me.

More resentment. Thoughts of divorce. Angry and resentful thoughts toward him. Not good for book progress. Not good for me. Not good for getting a good night's sleep. Not good for him and not good for me. But how to end it? That I don't really know. Beyond eating humble pie, which is what I generally do (and have already done) to end these wars, what can I do to dump my own resentments????

Gratitude, maybe a little. But I'm in no mood for gratitude. Act as if... Hmmm... Yes, that's good wisdom. Act as if his resentments don't hurt me. Act as if he's fully supportive of me working on the book. Act as if our relationship is healthy and we are connected. Act as if I felt sure of his love for me. Act as if my love for him is as full and rich as ever it was. Act as if everything is OK. Act as if I can hear his blame and sarcasm and resentment and not take it personally, as if I can understand it and accept it as who he is right now and as the only way he knows to strike out at a world that doesn't seem to need or want him. Act as if my resentments drained away, leaving compassion and understanding and respect in their place. Maybe.... there's a little glimmer here now....

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Gratitude for today: raspberries, Lunnette, blogging, my parents, early writing mentors, comfortable shoes.

Need to Write the Journey

2011-09-12T23:48:00.000-07:00

Been a month nearly since Peaceful Bird wrote anything here in the land of Words Paint. That's too long.

I've been writing lots of words... my first book submission on Sept. 1 was about 16,000 of them, plus 118 images, about the same number of 3D objects, an art log and a contact sheet for all the images. These words are fun to write and challenging in a good way. But they are words about beads, words that come from the mind mostly... a little from the heart and soul, I guess, but mostly the intellect... orderly, sane, comprehensive, in the style required by the publisher.

These are not the words of a food addict, someone who overeats and binges. That part of me goes underground while I'm writing the book. In our OA meeting last Saturday, I suggested the topic of "Relapse." Although I'm not yet eating any of my binge foods, remaining totally abstinent on them, I feel dangerously close to the edge of that old binge insanity. I have been overeating and snacking... gaining at least a few pounds by the feel of my jeans and loosing self esteem with every extra bite. I said that at the OA meeting.

A few of the members who've been around the block for many years had some good wisdom to offer. One talked about the OA tools available to us and named them. When I heard the word "write" I knew instantly that Words Paint could help me step away from the edge. So here I am, writing my little heart out. My plan is to write as often as possible, but not to participate in the blog world right now, not until my second and third (final) submissions are finished. But, write I must.

Another tool for me has been gratitude. When I feel gratitude, it takes over my being, warms me, takes away the desire to feed myself with foods. So part two of my new plan is to list my gratitude at the end of each post.

That's all for now. I'm making a commitment to writing and gratitude....

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Today's gratitude list: little green tree frogs, our garden, fresh vegetables, my husband, Lisa, Christi and Liz, Beethoven, opportunities, challenges, members of the local OA group, nippy fall mornings

Can't Sleep...

2011-08-19T02:36:00.000-07:00

It's getting on toward 3 AM and I'm having one of those "can't sleep" events. Since two readers have written to ask how I'm doing, a very caring and sweet thing to do, I decided to put a productive spin on not being able to sleep and write a post.

Yikes, you'd think I'd be all written out... words and words and words. Days when I'm on a roll; days when I balk and don't like anything I write. Days when I almost believe it's possible to pull off writing this book, days when the pathway toward the definitive book about beading seems within my reach, and days when I want to run away, disappear, hide under my bed. Up and down I go...

On the down days I want to eat for solace. On the up days I want to eat to celebrate. I don't weigh, so I don't know the damage I've been doing yet. But my jeans are getting tight. Not a good sign. Don't think they shrink in the night on the chair by my bed. The good news is I haven't eaten any of my binge foods. It's actually REALLY good news, because even though I'm snacking and gaining a little, I don't feel crazy. I don't have the food monster constantly bugging me about chocolate or cookies. I'm still going to OA meetings, still eating mostly healthy foods... just too many of them, too often.

Sounds like a rationalization for compulsive overeating. Yes, I admit, some of my snacking is compulsive. And yes, I admit, I am overeating... having larger helpings than I need, eating until I feel uncomfortable sometimes. Maybe I don't have to do that. Maybe the force for balance and harmony will help me to regain mine and not let the book stress take it away from me.

Five more months to complete the book. Sounds like a lot of time, but it's not when you consider that I not only have to write but also design and make about 30 projects, taking step-by-step photos as I go along. And Photoshop. Eeeegad that can take a lot of time. Now I'm griping and trying to justify overeating... Stop it, PB!

Maybe everything ~~will be~~ is fine, falling into place and getting done. Maybe I'll look back on these months and think, "Yeah, the pregnancy was awful, but the baby sure is cute!" Let's vote for that!

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Gratitude for today: friends who care, opportunities, friends who are helping me, friends in general, our garden, abstinence (322 days as of today).

Book = Stress = Graze

2011-07-23T00:12:00.000-07:00

THE BOOK is taking all of my time. I'm stressed to the max about every part of it... the contract, the deadlines, the enormity of it and of how much I have to learn before I can write certain parts of it. Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. There aren't enough k's in the universe to spell the Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkk I'm feeling these days.

I'm still abstinent. Solidly!

But the grazing is bugging me. Every time I have to go near the kitchen, which is often because it's the pathway to the only bathroom in our odd little house, I stop and check all the food places... the shelves, the cupboards, the counter and the refrigerator.

Sometimes I tell myself, "I don't overeat anymore. I'm getting out of here."

Sometimes I tell myself, "This is rotten. I need something. I need peanut butter on a cracker" (or some such nonsense). Then I fall into the food trap, trying to soothe my jangled nerves by sending something to my belly. It doesn't work. As soon as I leave the kitchen (where I've just consumed the something standing up), the jangle is back.

The only solution that works is to get away from the computer, take a break and go walking in the woods. Then, and only then, I can forget for a few moments the millstone around my neck. Oh, it's not so bad. Periodically I have fun with it, enjoy the challenge, enjoy the process. Then I remain glued to the computer or my studio and forget all about eating. "Why can't it always be like that," she whined????????

* * * * * * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: the woods, music in the park, Mahler's first symphony. our garden, Deb Will Be Free (who gave me the nod that influenced me to write this post), beads, the guest contributors to my book, Liz (who had a birthday yesterday), our funny cat, OA meeting tomorrow morning!

Acting on vs. Reacting to...

2011-07-09T13:06:00.000-07:00

At every OA meeting certain materials are read, the invitation, twelve steps, twelve traditions, etc. Early in my OA days, I wondered if I'd start getting bored, if repeating the same material every week was maybe a little stupid.

After more than a year, I'm the first to say, it's neither boring or stupid. In fact, nearly every meeting I hear something new in it, something significant jumps forward, making an impression.

Today it was the passage in the invitation that says (roughly paraphrased): we learn to act on the things that happen in our lives rather than react to them. I immediately thought about last night and applied those words to the situation, trying to imagine how I could have acted on rather than reacting to. Here's what happened.

Late yesterday afternoon, my husband and I went to a multi-family barn/garage sale. I'm hyper-aware right now of all my stuff and am trying to lighten my load. My husband is a hoarder and compulsive shopper. Yep, lots of stuff there for him. He kept finding one more irresistible bargain until he had what seemed to be a mountain of stuff, a whole car trunk full. My irritation grew accordingly until it was a correspondingly-sized mountain of anger, criticism, judgements and resentments.

But knowing what happens if I show him my anger, I tried as best I could to keep the lid on it. I did say that the large, multiple-holder, ~~fake~~ brass, candelabra he bought for $5 was ugly. Other than that, I stuffed my feelings.

Next we went out to dinner at an upscale Mexican-SW restaurant that was really busy. Chips were served immediately and we ordered. Ate the chips, all of them. They brought another basket of chips. Ate them too. Ate the dinner as well when it finally arrived. Went home stuffed, uncomfortable, reaching for the now infrequently needed Tums.

What was I doing?

I was over eating.
I was compulsively over eating.
I was mindlessly over eating, seeking to numb myself I suppose.
I was reacting to my husband buying more stuff.
I was reacting to the delay in getting our food.
I was reacting to stuffed anger and resentment.

This is a really good lesson or example I can use to explore what I might have done if I thought about acting on these situations. I'll take them one at a time.

A few possibilities for acting on the garage sale situation.

Say the serenity prayer to myself. Pray for serenity.
Think about what I can change... maybe my attitude.
Think about what I can not change... maybe his habit of accumulating more stuff.
Think about what I could ask him to change at this time... maybe ask him if he would put back half of the stuff.
Speak about my anger, not directing it at him, but asking him if he understands that bringing more stuff to our home upsets me, even when it's nice or useful.
Knowing of his tendency in advance, perhaps I could have made a bargain before we got there, an agreement that we would each get so many "tickets" (good for buying one thing per ticket), whatever we could agree on. Then maybe I could give him one of mine.
Once we departed, recognizing my anger, name it, bring forward forgiveness, remember anger never solves problems, recognize that I'll probably want to eat compulsively because of it.

Baby steps. Baby steps for me, for my sanity, toward learning to act rather than react.

And the delay at the restaurant?

Yikes, I don't know... how could I act rather than react? Well, first I'd have to recognize that I was reacting, that eating chips was reacting.
Make a conscious effort to be mindful about each chip.
Name what I'm doing... "I am compulsively eating these chips."
Make a conscious effort to ask myself, "Why am I compulsively eating these chips?" And then, "Is it really helping the situation?"

There must be more and better things I can do. The point now is just that I recognize the importance of learning about and experimenting with the concept of acting on situations where I am feeling angry, resentful, fearful, etc. It's tricky and will take conscious effort, probably for quite a while.

Stress and Overeating

2011-07-07T22:04:00.000-07:00

A really big thing is happening and I observe myself dealing with the stress of it in my old ways.

I've been asked by an international publisher to author a large (300+ pages), comprehensive book about beading. It will have about 40 projects, each designed to give the reader a chance to practice specific beading techniques, each as artful and attractive as possible given that it has to be at a beginner's level. I will design the projects, write all the instructions, take most of the step-by-step photos and get it all completed by the end of the year.

Mixed emotions right from the start... happy and honored to be asked... doubtful that I can actually pull it off...frightened, but also challenged by the enormity of it... worried about my marriage if I accept the job because of the time it will take... thrilled to have an opportunity to "give back" for the joy I've had beading for the past 25 years... eager to keep my "foot" in the business by writing another book...

After talking to my husband and receiving his support (he said, Go for it!), I decided to do it. Now, while waiting for my contract, I'm working on it, writing the introductory materials, finding a few bead artists to help in the areas where I lack expertise, outlining the topics and projects. I feel nervous all the time, anxiety + excitement... not all bad, just edgy.

Food! Kitchen! Grazing in the refrigerator! Opening cupboards! What's inside? What can I eat? Oh dear, it's not mealtime. Yes, but what can I eat? Chips? Bread? Peanut butter? Apple? No I don't want that. What about crackers and cheese? Let's go out for dinner, honey! Hey, let's go out for breakfast today...

Yep. Old habits.

All my adult life, when I've had to write something difficult, I eat. Used to be M & Ms, chocolate chips, cookies, or sometimes breakfast at the restaurant, eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast. Never carrots or apples or celery. Eat and write, write and eat... Good work, lots of writing done that way.

Now what to do? At least I'm not eating any binge foods. God forbid I should do that... Yikes, I'd be wallowing in chocolate in no time at all. But, I am overeating. Too much food at meals, too many meals out, snacks. I want to find some other way to deal with the stress of writing this book.

I know... talk to my sponsor and other supporters in my OA group, drink lots of water, take time to breathe, exercise, talk to my Dr. about anti-anxiety meds... yeah, but food, ah lovely food singing its siren song...

I'm thinking about adding a second counter on the side bar, one for days in compliance with my food plan. Shall I? Dare I? OK... I will, even if I have to start the count over every single day. I'll publish this post and do it!

* * * * * * *
Thanks to the comments made on this post by Doreen and Loretta, I found a ticker to count the days I stick with my food plan (3 meals a day of anything I want to eat, no second helpings, no snacks between meals). I will be honest.

* * * * * * *
Coughing MUCH better. Seem to have 95% energy level now. Hopefully pneumonia is gone. X-ray in two weeks.

* * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: garden, neighbors and community, walking buddy, husband (especially his work today on our wood supply), opportunity, OA, blogging and bloggers.

4th of July and Parades

2011-07-03T14:41:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, on the 4th, there will a huge parade through the streets of our little town. I won't be there. In fact I haven't attended the parade since 12 years ago when I rode in one of the county fire trucks driven by my volunteer fire fighter husband. We did that for 2 years.

It was fun, riding high above the crowds lining the streets, throwing candies out the windows to the kids, blasting the horn now and then. It was fun to be part of the parade and part of the fire department.

Since then I've always skipped the parade and the festivities in town. We've only once driven to where we could see the fireworks. Instead, we hole up on our property and wait for it to be over. Why?

Why? That's the question behind today's post. Seems to be something from my childhood, some anxiety or fear.

I recall enjoying community 4th of July celebrations as a youth, spending the whole day and evening at a local park, participating in three-legged races and such, eating hot dogs and ice cream, anticipating all day the culminating fireworks display. Didn't like the big-bang crackers, but super loved the cascading, color-changing sparklers. Happy memories. Whole family, big blanket spread on the ground, our little "turf," Mom and Dad on the blanket, like home base.

But for un-remembered reasons, we didn't go to the parade, which was the kick-off event to the day's fun. Maybe my brother went to it. I didn't.

So, going back in time, I recall going to at least one 4th of July parade in Sutter Creek, CA, as a child, maybe when I was 2 or 3? My biological father died in a car accident in September, five days before I turned 5. Since my memory has me atop my Daddy's shoulders, it must have been when I was 4 or less years old.

Feeling my way through the shreds of memory now... Daddy, taller than most men in the crowd, and me on his shoulders giving me a fabulous view! Yet it's possible I'm a little frightened by the size of the crowd and all the noise they are making. Do I feel insecure way up high, by myself? Did Daddy put me down? Was I engulfed by the crowd? Did Daddy let go of my hand for a moment? Did I get lost? I do not recall the specifics, but as I write these words, I feel agitated, anxious, with a sensation of wanting to graze in the kitchen, rare thoughts of my binge foods.

It seems pretty clear that not wanting to attend parades as a spectator has something to do with this incomplete memory. It's OK if I don't go to parades. Yet, I'd like to find a way to comfort and reassure my inner child about the past event.

Funny to See Evidence of an Early Start...

2011-06-27T22:10:00.000-07:00

My earliest memories of being aware of overeating don't begin until my college years, although I was a chubby gal in 6-8th grades and felt (but didn't really look) huge in HS because of my height.

After my mom died in March, I brought home their collection of old pictures. Looking through some of them last evening turned up two tell-tale signs of an early start to compulsive overeating.

This first one was Thanksgiving dinner in 1943, making me age 1 year and 2 months. It appears to me that dinner may already have been served, but there's yours truly, still at the table, eyes fixed on the bird, intently gnawing on a turkey bone, oblivious to everything else including whoever took the picture.

Here's a closer look at my rapt little face.

And then there's this one, probably taken when I was just under two years old. Again, will you look at the frosting on this face. YUM! I'm guessing I had gotten all I could get from that beater and was telling Mom "I want the other one now."

Yep, if you want to produce a compulsive overeater, start them along the path at an early age!

I Am a Compulsive Overeater

2011-06-26T00:24:00.000-07:00

Being sick and coughing my head off for 2.5 months has tried my patience (Lord, please let me never suffer a long-term illness... I just don't do it very well). I've had no trouble remaining abstinent on my binge foods, no trouble at all with that.

However, I see that I'm still a compulsive overeater. For example, we bought TWO giant bags of brown rice/black bean chips at Costco about a weeks ago. Yummy, crisp, not entirely unhealthy... at least they have some fiber and lower fat/sodium than most chips. The first opened bag sits on the counter by our stove, the top rolled down and clipped with a close pin.

Not at mealtime, but between lunch and dinner, the "fever" hits me. I go to the kitchen and scan the shelves and the refrigerator. Eyes light on chips. Ah-ha, just what I need. Unroll the top, grab a handful, put them on the stove, close up the bag, and munch those yummy little morsels one at a time.

Ummmmm, those were good... think I need some more. Repeat steps x - y above, another handful on the stove. Close bag and munch.

Ummmmmm, those were really yummy... yep, more would be good and I do deserve them after all I've been through. Yet another handful on the stove. Close bag and munch.

Ooooops. Alarm bell goes off. This is compulsive overeating! I don't DO compulsive overeating anymore. I really don't. STOP! Hold it! No more. I quit.

Next day, same scenario... same bag of chips. Same repeating pattern. Once again the third handful awakened the realization of what I was doing.

Today? No chips. Right after scanning the shelves, the realization came. I fixed myself a cup of hot tea and departed the kitchen.... YAY!!!!

* * * * * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: Ron Mann's documentary staring Woody Harrelson called Go Further, which is entertaining, informative, fun and possibly life-changing in some ways for me and my husband. Also, modern drugs (I feel 5% better today), my husband (who suggested I stay home this evening rather than go to a vintage tall ship sailing event with him), cyber friends, and earth.

Still Raining & Coughing

2011-06-24T22:23:00.000-07:00

Ever hear the expression, Hope springs eternal in the female breast? So it is with mine. This morning the Med Clinic called after a radiologist looked at my X-rays. Said he detected a strip of pneumonia in my left lung and wants me to begin a 10-day antibiotic prescription.

$175 visit to the pharmacy some hours later, and I'm on the treatment plan! Taking the prednisone as well. OK, chemicals, do your thing and let me move on.... back to no prescription meds... please!

No energy, maybe a tad less coughing today, not doing much, hanging in there. No energy to read much or to do any of my art projects. Maybe tomorrow, eh?

Had a little burst of energy this morning during which I cleaned the kitchen sink, counters and stove top. Badly needed and very cheering to have it done.

Have to eat full meal for breakfast so I can take the prednisone on a full tummy. Not easy for me. I generally just have coffee with milk and 9 fiber-rich crackers. Toast and eggs seemed awfully heavy this morning. Plus I ate a bit more during the day than I generally do. Regular dinner, no problems there. Tomorrow I'll try just one egg and one piece of toast. Don't want to feel like a sausage in my new jeans!

* * * * * * * * * * *
Gratitude for the day: Doctors who care, rain flowing into our cisterns, Dirt, A Movie, and people who preserve and add to the earth's dirt, sleep, dreams (even the druggy ones), privacy, sight, clean sinks, OA meeting tomorrow morning

It's Raining & I'm Still Coughing

2011-06-24T01:09:00.000-07:00

No gripes about the rain! I love the rain and our plants, especially the trees, need it. I say "Yay, rain!"

Coughing is another matter. Went back to Clinic today (3rd time). Saw a new Doc. Very, very thorough exam this time, with chest X-rays. She took a thorough history and checked back through my records. Our last try before sending me to a specialist is to put me on a burst (5-day treatment) of prednisone. Her reasoning is that bronchial inflammation is the root of the problem.

I know there are possible side effects, even from taking a short course. We'll see what happens. If no significant improvement in 5 days, I go back. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there.

One of my OA friends said that increased appetite is a side-effect of prednisone, even in a short treatment time. I'll be aware of that, ready with water or tea. I'm crossing my fingers for this new remedy, because I'm worn out, aching, crabby and sick of it!

* * * * * *
Gratitude for today: thorough medical attention, unexpected opportunities, new challenges, rain, dance (especially So You Think You Can Dance), my husband's generosity

Still Coughing

2011-06-21T23:10:00.000-07:00

I'm wondering if mindfulness can help my still persistent cough. I'm so tired of hacking and hacking. It makes my whole body hurt and it worries me as I roll into month three of this business. I vacillate between thinking I should go back to my Dr. for the third time and thinking I might be getting better and should just wait it out.

There doesn't seem to be a pattern... I have coughing fits in any place at any time.

My Dr. seemed so casual the last time I saw her, unconcerned almost.

OK, so back to mindfulness. Could I just be aware of the coughing, notice it, not judge it, notice my body reacting, my muscles working to make it happen? Could I stay calm and mindful about each cough?

In my years of Tai-Chi practice, one really valuable thing I learned was how to draw the healing energy from the universe, particularly from trees, into my body through my feet and legs, and then channel it to a specific place. Could I try to revive that practice, channeling the energy toward my bronchial passageways and lungs?

The answer to all of these questions is, yes. Yes, I will draw healing energy and be mindful.

* * * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: warmth of the sun, delicious lettuces from our garden, fresh fruits, picking and eating thimble berries, Sharon getting my haircut right this time, sitting on the deck enjoying our land.

..."Relieve Me of the Bondage of Self"....

2011-06-18T16:45:00.000-07:00

I opened the topic for today's OA meeting by telling the group I had reached my stated goal, yet was experiencing very mixed emotions about it. In a jumbled way I mentioned these points:

I felt dismay at the reactions of some... My husband, for example, said "I wish I could lose some weight" and has seemed rather aloof and cold toward me since I told him.
I still think of myself as "fat" or "overweight." What will it take to change that?
What next? There's a "let-down" feeling following completion. I wonder how athletes handle it after they win, for example, a gold medal? What is my next step? What direction do I look now? Where is my next work?
My achievement seems small and unimportant to me, especially compared to some I know (or know of) who have lost 90, 100, 200 pounds. What does my size 10 matter in the greater scheme of things?
I understand that reaching my goal doesn't mean I am "cured." If I were to return to eating my binge foods, I would regress and gain all the weight back in record time. If I do not continue to practice one day at a time and yield my will to my higher power, I will be wearing size 18-20 jeans again very soon.
I am afraid of complacency.

Perhaps the key to the above angst lies in prayer. I'm thinking about the 3rd step prayer, especially the line "Relieve me of the bondage of self..." What does that mean? I wish I could find a discussion of this topic on line.

For me, at the moment, it has something to do with the fences, walls, ladders and labels I surround myself with. I build walls and fences around me, which may protect me emotionally in some ways and which concurrently keep me in jail, away from discovery and change. I erect ladders that must be climbed, goal setting, yet the top of any ladder is not a stable place to stand. I label myself as fat, overweight, flabby and more, words that imprison me in discomfort.

Is this what bondage of self means? If so, I would gladly be relieved of all of it and so heartily pray.

* * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: rain last night and moss newly greened as a result, members of my OA group, fresh raspberries available now, having more energy after being sick for so long.

Size 10 and Stuff

2011-06-17T00:13:00.000-07:00

Size 10

A little over a year ago, I looked like an overstuffed sausage in my size 18 jeans. Today, I finally got my nerve readied to try on a pair of size 10 jeans. I've actually been thinking my 12s are a bit baggy for a while now. But it frightened me to try on 10s.

What if they actually fit? Would I have to accept myself the way I am? Would I have to stop thinking of myself as "still having a ways to go?" (That's what I always tell people who say I'm looking really skinny.)

Size 10 jeans and size medium tops... this has been my stated goal for a long time. What if I'm there?

Well, big news... I am! Size 10 in my style of jeans (Lee's classic straight leg) fits me perfectly. I can hardly believe it. I can not wipe the smile off my face. Daaaawgonnnne! Imagination that!

Now I have to consider the above questions. How will I think of myself? What will I say when folks say I'm lookin' good? Maybe just "Thank you!" Will this be a danger point for me in OA, a point of complacency about my food plan? Time will tell.

Me and My Stuff

Two months ago I wrote a post (here, half way down) about hoarding stuff. About that same time, I began to work on a piece of bead embroidery about me and my relationship to my stuff. Here's how it looks (click to enlarge):

This piece totally shocks me. It really does. I expected it to look all ugly and jumbled and messy, just as I feel about having too much stuff. Instead, it's full of life, playfulness, exuberance, fun... How can this be? From writing a poem off this piece, I learned something amazing about me and my stuff, about what it means to me and a lot about why I have so much of it. It's because I'm afraid of forgetting. I wrote about it on my art blog, here.

* * * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: car wash, size 10 jeans, long days, cool evenings, check marks on my "to do" list!

Feeling a Tad Bit Better Today

2011-06-14T18:01:00.000-07:00

Walking really helps lift my spirits!

I was having difficulty walking because we generally walk on a dirt road and whenever cars go by they raise a great cloud of dust particles that give me quite a coughing fit. The more times it happenes, the longer the fit and the worse I feel.

We took last Friday - Sunday off, hoping it would help... and it did... a little. Monday we walked on a paved road instead. Duh, why didn't we think of that sooner? Not as pretty a walk and somewhat more difficult because of steepness of the hills. But, with no dust, it went much better. So we did the same today, with almost no coughing as we walked!

Just getting out to walk and having it not be so fitful is a big boost to my moral. Maybe this bug is finally on its way out. I hope!

* * * * *

Reflecting on 257 days of abstinence, over a year of following a pretty healthy food plan through Overeaters Anonymous and nearly 4 years of a regular walking program, I'm thinking about how it all began with an attitude change. I don't even recall what brought about the change, probably many small things that added up at the right time and place. The change was a conscious decision to respect my body.

I'll say it again: I made a conscious decision to respect my body.

Below is a bead piece I did at that time. I found the feather on one of my first walks. The rock-like objects at the bottom are fossilized turtle shell, thousands of years old... gotta respect that! (Click on the picture to enlarge it.) I wrote more about this beadwork and the start of a big change here.

I wanted to lose weight. I wanted to be more fit. I wanted to like myself. If I had respect for myself (whether real or self-imposed), wouldn't I take care of these things? That was in August, 2007. I started to walk and I joined Weight Watchers on line. The walking stuck; the diet didn't.

It took me over two years of huge yo-yo swings, dieting and gaining it all back three times, before I stumbled onto Holy Hunger, which then got me into OA, the lifeline that keeps me off the yo-yo-coaster.

Reflecting on this today, I realize that I do, finally and authentically, respect my body.

* * * * * * *

Gratitude for today: my quilting girlfriends, fresh salad greens for supper right out of our garden, my husband's to do list, feathers, beads, sleep.

Cough, cough, cough

2011-06-12T00:45:00.000-07:00

I can't seem to get well... I've been sick for a month now, plagued with constant, harsh coughing fits that make me feel like my lungs are turning inside out. I have no energy. I don't sleep well. Been on antibiotics, which did take away the fever and lifted my energy level a little bit. But still the coughing continues.

So I went back to my Dr. again last week. After testing my lung power and listening to me breathe, she said I might have bronchial inflammation. She prescribed an inhaler, which so far hasn't helped at all. It does make me feel as though I consumed 17 consecutive shots of espresso... talk about the jitters. Yikes! Doesn't translate into productive energy, however.

Am I griping. You bet I am. Coughed through my OA meeting this morning. Talking always provokes a spell of coughing, as does even the slightest physical activity, reclining.

OK, stop with the gripes.

Speaking of OA, I've been working on a series of bead embroideries that represent intersections in my life. The one shown below, is about the intersection of me with my higher power.

Writing about it on my art blog, here, helped me to clarify my thoughts and beliefs about my higher power, especially about how it comes from outside of me rather than from within me.

* * * * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: not coughing at the moment, eating fresh-organic lettuces from our garden for dinner every night, hot tea, getting back to reading and writing blogs.

Truth (?) about "Diets"

2011-05-26T19:51:00.000-07:00

Overeaters Anonymous (OA) is not a diet or calorie club and does not endorse or recommend any particular food plan. Each participant is free to choose whatever food plan they wish and can alter the plan any time. At least that's my understanding of OA.

The key to loosing weight in OA has nothing to do with typical diet plans and everything to do with accepting individual patterns of food addiction.

For some, this doesn't seem so easy... maybe they're addicted to everything, or at least everything loaded with fat, sugar and salt. To some being abstinent on these foods would, in their addictive mind, leave nothing for them to eat and a horrible sense of denial sets in even as they contemplate the possibility of change. I know because I talked a lot about OA today with a person very, very dear to me. She can not fathom being able to survive without all the "junk foods" (my term, not hers) that constitute most of her daily intake. I'm sad to admit that nothing I said changed anything for her although she says she is miserable. I am horrified by the understanding of what her life must be like (and her life expectancy).

We did talk a little about our past experiences with diets and about how quickly we both regained every pound we lost, plus more. I told her about my husband and I watching a college course on healthy lifestyle (which I wrote about here). Last night, watching lecture #19 on fads and diets, Dr./Prof. Goodman had an interesting story about diets.

He told about going to a large bookstore and counting over 300 books with the word "Diet" in the title. "Why are there so many diet books," he asked? "Because not one of them works!" He rationed that IF one diet actually worked it would be the only book for sale. Word would get around that it works; everyone would buy that book and nobody would buy any of the other books. By this reasoning, there is no diet that works.

I just thought that was kind of funny. I guess one could just as easily conclude that they all work equally well.

Anyway trying to explain today how OA is not about a diet, trying to explain abstinence, food plan and higher power, I found myself a bit tongue-tied as I looked into the eyes of an addict, an addict who looked back at me with aversion and denial in her eyes. How far is bottom? I ask my higher power to help her and to help me help her... not to give up...

* * * * * *

Gratitude for today: rain, 238 consecutive days of abstinence, our adorable cat, that miraculously bottom for me wasn't morbid obesity and related illnesses, our local OA community

I Weighed Myself.....

2011-05-25T20:20:00.000-07:00

Well, thanks readers for the good tips on how to feel better. Your well wishes and all must be working... maybe the antibiotics too... anyway, except for coughing spells from time to time (not so often, thank goodness), I'm feeling a lot better after three hits of the Azithromycin, which is my new, favorite antibiotic!

This morning, after a reasonable night's sleep (that means only waking myself up with a coughing fit three or four times, as opposed to every 10 minutes), I woke up thinking about things... chores, how the day might play out, a friend I had hoped to talk with on the phone last night (but didn't), normal morning thoughts.

Then, suddenly, the thought struck me to get out of bed and weigh myself.

Probably doesn't sound too weird, until you realize I haven't been on the scale but one time in over a year, since early April of 2010, after our return from a trip to the South West, where I pigged out every day. That fateful day, I weighed in at 232... not my all time high, but a jeans-squeezing, foot-busting, chipmunk-cheeks, rotundus-abundus, hate-myself, yo-y0 high nevertheless. It was still two weeks, and probably a few pounds more, before I realized I can not control my eating/binging and turned myself over to the care of a higher power and the loving community of our local OA group.

Since then, the only time I weighed was when I had my annual physical and was weighed (fully clothed with shoes) at the Doctor's office. Although I closed my eyes, the nurse said the number out loud. I think it was 187. At the time, I had mixed feelings about the number... good because it was a significant loss from when I started... not so good because I've been around 187 many times before, a number where I seem to hit the wall, often the bottom of the yo-yo drop. Therefore, I vowed to continue my no scale policy.

Until this morning. Don't know what got into me. The results? !66 (with full bladder and flannel nightgown). I was surprised. Thought it would be around 180. Feeling good about it. However, I think this will be the last scale visit for a while.

I don't like the pressure I immediately felt, the panic that the number might be low because of being sick, the fear that being this low (still overweight for my 5 ft. 8 inch frame, but no longer obese) will make me think I can go back to my old ways of eating, some other more personal fears related to the past and my attractiveness to men. No problem, fears! Just cool your jets, because we're not getting on that thing again for a loooooong time! No scale and all's well with PB!

Waiting for Antibiotics to Kick In

2011-05-24T12:06:00.000-07:00

Six days of coughing, frequent coughing fits that made my whole chest burn, feeling like my lungs are turning inside out, sleeping only a brief time between the fits, and fever causing alternating sweats and chills, six days and finally I gave up and got my husband to drive me to the Dr. yesterday. Dr. put me on Azithromycin, which already, after just the first dose, seems to be helping to calm the symptoms, and prescribed some codeine cough syrup, which gave me 4 consecutive, blissful, cough-free hours of healing sleep last night.

Today I have zero energy, barely enough to write this post. My hands are shaking, little tremors, and my legs too. Laundry, grocery shopping, preparations for studio tour, gardening chores and much else will have to wait a little longer. But... I am a little better than yesterday and for that I'm grateful. So far, crossing my fingers, my husband seems to be holding to steady health. Dr. said I'll stop being contagious 24 hours after first dose of antibiotic, so by later this afternoon.

My husband tried to find somewhere to get some good chicken soup in town yesterday (bless him), but being unsuccessful, he bought a piece of baked chicken and a can of Progresso chicken soup, which I ate last evening, my first "meal" in several days. Akkkkk, canned soup is sooooooooooo salty! I couldn't finish it. I hope to feel well enough to grocery shop tomorrow and will make a crock pot of decent chicken soup! I should make some to put in the freezer for future health emergencies like this.

Gratitude for today: having no pressing commitments for the next week, antibiotics, the promise of seeing Lunnette and Christy a week from today, and the hope of getting back to walking soon.

Ah.... Home Again!!!

2011-05-22T13:53:00.000-07:00

One day short of two weeks since I last wrote and now all of those stressful things are behind me, leaving me, however, with a respiratory infection (fever, chills, cough, aches everywhere) that kept me in bed for two whole days. Today I'm feeling better, although I'm still coughing my lungs inside out. (Hate that!)

The next stressful thing is two weekends from now, the Artists Studio Tour (which I posted about here, on my other blog). There will be snacks and treats for our guests and there will be times when there are no customers, when I'm bored and discouraged at the temporary lack of sales. Bored and discouraged... couldn't be two more aggressive triggers for binging and overeating.

However, I'm encouraged by the past two weeks, especially teaching a two-day class where the students brought the most delicious-looking treats, set out for all to share: M&Ms, candy shop chocolates and other special candies, home-made lemon bars and carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Eeeeee-yike! That was a disaster waiting to happen. But I was good, sticking to my abstinence program and touching nary a crumb. True, I was neither bored nor discouraged while teaching this lively, talented group of women... so maybe I have nothing to crow about here.

By the way, thanks to readers who supported me with these stressful, back-to-back events, and who gave me great ideas and recipes for preparation of vegetarian meals. Our guest was very pleased and so was I!

Changes

My husband and I have been viewing several of The Great Courses recently and are now about 1/3 of the way into Lifelong Health: Achieving Optimum Well-Being at Any Age, by Professor Anthony Goodman. By the way, should anybody be interested in any of these courses, don't buy them from the website! Write or call to ask for a catalog and wait until they go on sale for 60 or 70% off.

Anyway, Prof Goodman has some excellent tips about health and change. Three that he repeats are:

One Degree ~ change your course in one degree increments. Over a long period of time, even a one degree change will land you in a different place. I like this at lot. Nothing radical. For example, neither me nor my husband likes fish. So for our 13 years together, I have never cooked it for us. We recognize the need for fish oils in our diet, so we take supplements. The good Prof, doesn't recommend supplements, suggesting we get our vitamins, etc. from whole foods. Ugh... cooking fish. However, we don't need to do it every night. Just one night a week and a couple tuna salads for lunches will give us a 10 degree change. And that is significant over time!

Goldilocks ~ choose the "bed" that fits you. Despite his recommendations about healthy lifestyle and foods, he suggests we always steer toward what fits us, our likes, dislikes, comfort zone. I like this too. He makes strong suggestions, but at the same time seems to understand and value that we know ourselves best.

Whole Foods ~ Yep, I always knew it. But now with the Prof's persuasive language backed by scientific studies he sites, I see the whole value of whole foods. Again, just by making a shift a couple of nights a week, we can lean that way more with our diet.

So with our new vegetable garden and wisdom gleaned from Prof Goodman, I'm pretty sure my husband and I are headed toward a course change for the better with our eating!

Mixed Bag o' Feelings

2011-05-09T20:30:00.000-07:00

Some ~~guilt~~ remorse about not posting or reading in this realm for too many days. Like the hummingbird drawn to the newest blooming flower, I've been ghost-writing a blog for my husband. Ha. That's not the truth. I'm writing it for me; he's not the least interested in it or in doing it. He calls it identity theft. He seems to be joking when he says that, but maybe there's a grain of truth in it.

We he started a garden. Truth is, I've never liked or been interested in or been good at growing plants. Parents did and next down brother is quite the purple thumb. Not me. So when we first talked about a garden, I basically said, "Count me out." He didn't particularly like my attitude, so we discussed it in counseling and agreed that I'd contribute 10% financially and in labor.

Behold and lo... Who is out there every day looking at the plants? Who is buying the plants and seeds? Who shoveled dirt and gravel and cleaned up after the workers? Who drilled the PVC pipes for the water reservoir? Who started the new blog (Rain Barrel Garden)? Me. Go figure. This I do not understand. Garden = fun? Does not compute, but somehow it mostly is. That's why the new blog I guess.

Challenges for eating. Last Saturday I had to be one of several hosts at a big community art function with a gigantic lavish of foods and snacks. I'm so shy and uncomfortable in situations like that. Akkkk... I went with the thought that I'd be abstinent on all edibles for the three hours. Didn't make it. Ate some fruit and a few crackers with cheese. Not too bad and none of my binge foods. That's good. Felt miserable there. Couldn't find the least little comfort zone. Just white-knuckled my way through the time and departed the second it was officially over. Maybe that's just how it is for me in social situations like that. Maybe I could learn to just say "no" when asked to do stuff like that...

Challenges causing stress. Friend from college visiting us me Wed-Fri. He and I were fairly close for 4 years, but have only seen each other one time since graduating in '64. He's vegetarian; we're not. Anybody got a good, easy to fix vegetarian main dish to recommend? My husband has no interest in meeting him and is already acting pissy toward me. Oh for fun! This is the last guest I will invite to our home. It just isn't worth the worry and stress that my husband might be unpleasant and rude to the guest; plus irritated with me. Why do I always forget how it goes down, and invite someone else?

Next on the list is a slide lecture that I have to do on Saturday, meaning I'll miss my OA meeting. Right now, I have need of my OA meetings, big need. Missing Saturday is not a good thing.

Then I'm home for one day, madly preparing to teach a two-day workshop a day's drive away. I'll leave Monday for that, teach Tuesday and Wednesday, drive back on Thursday. More stress; more temptation to handle stress with food; more anxiety about my husband's attitude. He doesn't like it when I'm gone. He doesn't like it when he's not the center of my attention.

I may have been guilty of playing into that in some sort of co-dependent way for many years. But it has worn very thin lately. Even with counseling, I'm still thinking about divorce, something I promised I wouldn't do for a year... a year that we would work on our relationship. Today it doesn't feel like it's working. Today I feel sad... and mad... and hopeless... and lonely.

There it is. I just named my feelings, for whatever it's worth.

Now, is there any good news to report? Yes, there is... I've been continuing to work on my clutter problem. THAT makes me feel good. I've got several boxes and bags ready for a garage sale (or maybe I'll just take them to the thrift store), lots of bags of recycling and lots of bags of garbage. The keepers are organized. Whohoooo! Not even half way done yet, but keeping at it and seeing light at the end of the tunnel! Also I put some of my bead art for sale on my website, posted about it on my art blog and have sold all but two of the pieces. This is really a good thing and makes me feel happy, satisfied, worthwhile.

So, it's a mixed bag o' feelings today. I probably won't post again until I return from teaching. Supportive cyber hugs and anti-binge vibes are appreciated!

Ten Good Things about Me

2011-04-27T18:23:00.000-07:00

After reading my last post, coral-seas commented that she'd like me to write a list of ten good things about me. Seems like a good challenge, so guess I'll try it.

Oh, yeah, and I'll curb my instinct to be flippant or shallow about it. Ten good things about me, Peacefulbird:

I tend to be a peace-maker in my family, with neighbors, among friends. I value peace over being right and try to help others see peaceful solutions and compromises when they are in conflict.
I trust most people most of the time. I believe their intent is good and that that they are honest.
I like most people and most animals.
Although I can sometimes make harsh judgements about people, I'm open to changing my mind, willing to give them the benefit of the doubt long enough to find reasons for reversing my negative opinion.
I can be trusted with secrets and rarely gossip about others.
I respect differences. Different styles, tastes, appearances, opinions, histories, countries are of interest to me. I have always liked learning about and exchanging ideas with people who live differently than I do.
I am a loyal friend to my inner-circle of close friends and family members.
I am generous with my time and knowledge.
I love to laugh and am a good foil for people who know how to be funny, like my husband and many of my friends.
I am adventurous by nature, intrepid about just doing it, whatever it is.

OK! I didn't know if I could do this or not, but it wasn't as difficult as I imagined. Thanks to coral-seas for suggesting this.

* * * * * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: Rain filling our cisterns, beautiful beads from far away places, having what I need when I want to make something, bunnies, Julie and Lunnette (both sent me bunny cards in the mail that came today).

When I'm Stuck...

2011-04-26T22:48:00.000-07:00

Off and on, for about 20 years, I've been writing morning pages... well, sort of like morning pages. Technically speaking, according to Julia Cameron in the Artist's Way, we need to write every day (did for a few months, rarely since then), in the morning (rarely), three full pages (often four) and in longhand (half the time on my computer). The only part I do consistently is write from my stream of consciousness, uncensored... whatever comes along gets written.

When I get stuck, I often write, "What am I blocking; what don't I want to write?" And that seems to bring forth whatever it is.

Tonight when I signed in, I realized I haven't posted here for four days. Stuck. What am I blocking; what don't I want to write? I don't want to write about failures. I don't want to write about how it feels like I'm slipping in so many areas. I don't want to write about how I get insights about how to live more mindfully, with more gratitude, with less clutter, with more honesty and above all with less overeating. I have a moment or two of compliance.

Then I slip, slop, slide down the hill into my old ways.

My sister-in-law is in a mindfulness group, learning how to eat mindfully among other things. She takes time before eating to smell her foods and to look at them with appreciation. She takes time to give thanks to every growing/living thing that contributed to her meal. She swallows every bite completely before putting more in her mouth.

What a great way to eat, eh? Yes! I remembered to eat like that only one time. I don't want to write about all the times I start a program that obviously will benefit me, then fall away from it. I don't want to write about how falling away from one thing contributes to falling away from others.

I don't want to write about how much I need to embrace imperfection. I guess there's a part of me, maybe even a big part of me, that wants to be perfect. A dear OA friend gave me a book on that subject*... maybe it will help. I seem to be in a critical, judgmental mood tonight. Antidote: list 10 things I'm grateful for...

sunshine today
my two quilting-beading-stitching buddies
shooting star flowers
all the beautiful colors and textures of moss
people who work diligently, carefully and cleanly
our cat
people I don't even know who support my artistic process
morning pages
a book on embracing imperfection
my husband

In case my husband is reading this, these are not in any particular order ;>)

I'm still feeling stuck and critical, but maybe a little less so.

*The Gifts of Imperfection by Brené Brown. One thing she says that makes a lot of sense to me is that "shame loves secrecy." Maybe that's part of the reason why both an AA-based program and blogging help me. I can't live in hiding, in a state of shame, so much when I blog and go to meetings.

Just ONE Little Degree...

2011-04-22T21:46:00.000-07:00

Baby steps.
Often, a course change of just one degree is all it takes for significant results.

I'm thinking about a ship sailing from Seattle to Singapore. This ship has a compass course that it must follow. A one degree change in course would not be significant or noticeable in one hour of sailing. It might not even be noticeable in a half a day of sailing. But keep on that course for several days, and you'd be sailing toward some other destination.

In other words, very small alterations in course, over the long haul can make a significant difference. Case in point is my daily, 12-minute arm-toning routine, which I do holding socks filled with rolls of pennies. It seems almost too insignificant to count, so unimportant that it hardly matters if I do it or not. NOT true! After some months, I notice my arms are looking much less flabby, in fact, one might even say not bad for a woman my age and weight. It was only a one degree course change, yet the new destination is lookin' good!

What this proves to me is that I don't need to make huge changes in behavior, attitudes or habits. Consistency of a very minor adjustment over a period of time will result in significant progress. I like knowing this!!!

* * * * * * * * * * *

Gratitude for today: my neighbor's hens and rooster, eggs, women friends, not having to wear a jacket when I walked today, two fantastic workers who are building us a garden fence and pads for our horse trough garden beds.

A Gazillion Lies About Food

2011-04-21T11:46:00.000-07:00

Still on the subject of telling lies. Thinking about some of the lies I've told about food... to people I don't know, to store clerks, to close friends, to family, to myself. Just for fun, here are a couple of them...

Lie told to a very close woman friend about 2 years ago

On my way to her house to have a pot-luck lunch with a couple of my quilting friends, I stopped at the grocery store to buy a roasted chicken. Cookies there calling me loudly. Like home-made and only $1.00 for three of the lovelies with macadamia nuts and white chocolate. So I bought a dozen. Got in my car with cookies and chicken, opened cookie bag, chowed one down. Ate another while driving. Was almost to friend's house, but wanted to eat a couple more (this was becoming an uncontrollable binge). Parked my car by the side of the road, ducked my head down, and ate cookies, one after another.

Meanwhile, my friend, driving from a work errand in town, passed my car and recognized it. With 6 remaining cookies, I arrived a few minutes later at her house. "What were you doing parked by the side of the road?" she asked. "Wasn't me." I replied. "Looked like your car," she said. "Nope, guess there are a lot of blue Honda Civics, huh." Flat out lie.

Since starting OA, I told her about that lie and apologized. Feel better about it now.

One of many lies I've told my husband about me and food

Because of having a family that has suffered greatly from alcohol abuse, my husband understands about addiction. When we met 14 years ago, long before OA, I knew I was addicted to chocolate. At times I would go abstinent on chocolate and when I met him was one of those times. We shared that we were both abstinent on alcohol and for me, also chocolate. This was a good bond for us.

A couple years later, I slipped on the chocolate. I thought I could have it just one time, at one special occasion, which of course set me off rolling down the slope of more and more chocolate, more and more binging. But I didn't tell my husband. First lie... lie of omission.

In order to maintain that lie, I had to sneak my chocolate. I had to tell many lies to hide my daily chocolate fixes. One time we were waiting for the ferry and I HAD to have a fix. Standing at the vendor, paying for a bag of M & Ms, my husband walked in, surprising me and catching me in the act. "I'm buying these for you! And they were supposed to be a surprise," I said, covering for my irritated attitude at being caught.

It's a fact...

I have a history of telling a lot of lies concerning my behavior around food, little lies and big whoppers. It makes me feel creepy when I do it; and it makes me feel creepy now to admit it, to write about it, to remember some of them.

I prefer to think of myself as a fundamentally honest person. Honesty is something our parents and teachers encouraged. Honesty is something I admire in others.

So, what's under the lies? What do they have in common? Mostly, I think, I lie to conceal behaviors for which I feel shame. I have a great deal of shame around not being normal about food, about not being able to control what and how much I eat, and around my weight, about my size and shape and at times obesity.

Shame is under the lies. What is under shame? Is it fear? I think so. Fear of not being loveable, fear of death, fear of loneliness, fear of being wrong, fear of ultimate failure as a human being.

Today, I accept the fear. It is real and it is part of me. I accept.

********
Gratitude: shooting stars just starting to bloom, quilting friends, OA

Little Lies

2011-04-19T20:17:00.000-07:00

Been stuck for about 8 months. Not gaining weight, but no loss either. In OA, very aware of the 12-step recovery program, yet not getting past the 3rd step, thinking about the fourth step, but not really doing it. Maybe I'm afraid of what I'll find when I start taking an honest look at my defects of character. Maybe I'm stuck because I want to do it "right."

The exact wording of the 4th step is: 4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. Reading the AA "Big Book" and some OA guides, I see there are various ways to approach the inventory, all having in common that it should be written. Most suggest that we look at the problem areas in our lives and identify things we do that get us into trouble. I guess there are probably as many diverse ways to approach step 4 as there are people doing it. That's the key to getting past being stuck: just do it.

OK, so I've started writing about lies, about me telling fibs or lies.

For example, I've always lied about my weight. Never once have I told the correct weight when I've renewed my driver's license, always at least 20 pounds less than my actual weight. Never have I given my true weight when arranging a flight in a small plane. While this is probably common, especially among people who are overweight, it bothers me that I do it. It's being deceitful to myself and contributes to double shame, first that I am overweight and second that I lie about it.

Another example is telling lies to exaggerate, to make a better sounding story or to make myself seem better, more important, wiser. These are little twists of truth, starting with a kernel of truth, but get bigger and/or better than the actual truth, just a little embellishment here or there. Well, I don't like that about myself. Sometimes, hearing myself telling fibs of exaggeration, part of me wants to run away and hide from embarrassment.

A third example is telling lies to cover up mistakes, especially when I'm late or have not responded to an outside contact in a timely manner, in other words, to cover my procrastination. Some months ago, I was writing a delayed response to an email. A fib started rolling out about why it was taking me so long to respond. I paused thinking, "No! I don't have to make excuses. I only need to apologize for my tardiness." Since then, I've been telling cover-up lies much less often.

These are the little lies. There are a few big ones in my past. I'm going to write about them too, only not publicly on my blog. This is my 4th step starting point. I see a great deal of comfort and satisfaction down the road in not telling big or little lies anymore, because to stop means I will have to accept myself the way I am and be willing to be imperfect, to make mistakes and forgive myself.

* * * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: my husband, riding my motorcycle, sunshine

Embrace the Tension of Opposites

2011-04-15T21:58:00.000-07:00

At the end of our marriage counseling session today, our counselor gave us a pearl!

Mostly we talked about how to handle the times when we have strongly different opinions on something that requires action. These are the times of our worst arguments, the times when both of us start thinking about leaving our marriage. How can we have our differences and come to a resolution without resentments, anger and hurt?

We had discussed a recent episode between us, what we did that worked, how we might have done some things differently. We had talked about approaching differences as a team, a team with solid affiliation working together to solve a problem.

Then at the very end, reaching out her two hands, palms up, hands cupped as though holding something, she told us to embrace our differences, to hold onto the tension of our polarities because out of them can come a new place, a new, transcendent thought or solution born of our opposing differences.

Her suggestion, a practical application of Carl Jung's transcendent function, seems like an important key for us. I think we've always tried to get rid of the opposition, to destroy one or the other position as soon as possible. In the destruction of one of the positions, the other takes over, the holder becoming the winner, the other the resentful and angry looser.

So the way I understand her words is that if we can hold the tension, allow it the freedom to exist, shuffle back and forth between the opposites for long enough, we'll transcend both positions in favor of creating a new and jointly acceptable position. I wonder, did Jung really get it? Worth a try!

* * * * * * * * * *
Gratitude for the day: spring rain, good counselors, a call from my dearest friend, walking with the pups during a sun-break, health, bumble bees, blooming hellebore

Thoughts on Being Connected

2011-04-14T20:06:00.000-07:00

Our telephone line has been out all day. No dial tone. No way to call anybody or receive calls. Cell phones don't work on the island, except in town (6 miles one way) or at the resort (6 miles the other way). When we have a phone problem, which is frequently, it generally affects our whole neighborhood community as well. So we can't use the neighbor's phone to report the problem. Eventually one of us goes to town and calls the phone company, which responds (in their own ~~sloooow~~ good time) by sending a technician to repair something in the main relay box by the fire department sub-station.

For a day or two (sometimes more), we have no phone. During these times, I notice restless and uneasy feelings set in. I used to worry that someone in my family might be trying to reach me about my mom. Now I just worry.

Wasn't always like this. I used to go back-country hiking nearly every weekend and never give a thought to not being connected to the rest of the world. My world was smaller then. I had my parents across the country in Minnesota and talked to them on the phone every other month or so. At Christmas I called my parents when I knew my brothers would be there and talked to each of them for a few minutes... my once a year contact. I had a couple of close friends, colleagues at work and dance friends. That's about it. No Facebook. No email. No blogging friends. Rare long-distance phone calls to keep me connected with my family.

Was it better? I don't really know. Easier and more simple? Yes, I think so. Certainly I wouldn't have gone into worry-mode if the phone wasn't working.

A blogging acquaintance, someone I've never met or talked with in person, wrote that she thinks we'd be better off dropping Facebook and all our Internet connections in order to dedicate ourselves to a few, important, deeper relationships. That's an interesting thought. But could it ever be a two-way deal? Isn't nearly everyone glued to their cyber-connections and phones these days?

One of my husband's issues with me, as stated in counseling, is that I spend a lot of time with my back to him.... that is... on the computer... blogging, playing cards, emailing. Is it just possible that the blessing in our current phone disconnect is all about deeper connections, turning my attention away from the phone and toward him?

* * * * * * * * *
Gratitude for the day: beautiful batik fabrics, the smell of baking potatoes, the fire in our wood stove, Susan's stories about Bhutan

A Year in OA and Hoarding Stuff

2011-04-12T22:17:00.000-07:00

Two topics on my mind tonight...

A Year in Overeaters Anonymous

I've been going to OA for a year now, though it seems like lots less than that. I've never been to a meeting that didn't help me, contribute to my newly developing sense of inner harmony and peace of mind, make me feel accepted. Like they say, "Welcome to Overeaters Anonymous; welcome home." Always somebody says something that clarifies an attitude, an action, or a reaction for me. My gratitude for each person in my small group is immense.

My abstinence program regarding certain foods (cake, candy, chocolate, cookies, pie, ice cream and pastries) is solid. 194 days of perfect abstinence on that score! No regrets. No misgivings. Rarely tempted. Not feeling deprived. Happy to not eat any of it, ever! This was a 360 degree change from 60 years of binging on chocolate and the rest of them every chance I could get (not an exaggeration).

My abstinence program regarding my meal plan is not going so well. In fact, not going well at all. In the past few months, I've observed a steady increase in both portion size and snacking. I think the way to get back on track is to work the OA steps. I'm hung up on the 4th step. Maybe I need to return to the first 3 and then approach step 4 in a refreshed state of mind. My spiritual recovery is stagnate. I'll try to write more about that in my next post.

So, looking at the year as a whole, I see a much thinner, much happier me, who is now needing to take new pathways into the program.

Hoarding Stuff

I'm currently reading a very interesting book called, Stuff, Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things by Randy Frost and Gail Steketee. Bringing a clinical psychology background to their ten-year study of compulsive hoarding, the authors present case histories and their personal impressions about this problem that may affect more people than we realize. While we all keep stuff we don't need or use, the authors say it's only a problem if it makes us miserable, if it "causes substantial distress or interference in every-day living."

The book is a good read, well-written, sensitive, courageous. I saw it in a bookstore and paid full retail because I couldn't wait to get it through Amazon. Why? Because I hoard stuff, stuff I don't need or use or want. Always it bothers me. Always I wish I could give or throw it away. Do I have stacks reaching the ceiling? Only in my closets. Do I have a warehouse full of stuff? No. Have I filed bankruptcy because I overspend my income? No. Has my husband threatened divorce because of my clutter? No; at least not yet.

But (and this is a BIG BUT), what I do have bothers me A LOT). I'm looking for a little help from this book. The authors say that fixing the problem takes "heroic effort." Three ideas regarding a fix are helping me already:

1. I am practicing a total shift in my decision-making process in reaction to the sight of a desired possession. Rather than narrow and focus my attention on the thing, I expand my attention to consider how this object "fits into the fabric" of my life. Expand rather than narrow my attention... that's an important key I think.

2. This one again involves the desire to acquire new stuff. Each time an opportunity to acquire stuff comes along, I ask myself "When will I use it? Do I have anything like it already?" and "Do I have a place to put it?"

3. Already the above have made a difference in my level of new acquisitions. However, disposing of the stuff I already have is an entirely different and much more difficult matter. I find that like more serious hoarders, I attach great value to my stuff. I think of it as potential, exciting and worthwhile, things I can use to make my art, things that I can do or learn from someday. To my eyes, my stuff also has sentimental meaning. Like many hoarders, I seem to derive a sense of self from my stuff, my collections, my supplies, and my piles of inspiration. Gaining a better understanding of this from the book may help me to let some of it go, to find potential and value in myself rather than my stuff.

Each chapter begins with a quote. Here's one I like a lot by William James:

It is clear that between what a man calls me and what he simply calls mine the line is difficult to draw. We feel and act about certain things that are ours very much as we feel and act about ourselves.

* * * * *
Gratitude for today: longer days, my special surrogate-granddaughter, my husband, red roses

Parts of Me

2011-04-10T22:25:00.000-07:00

Ready to flow back into the world again, at least mostly. Looking forward to reading other blogs, catching up a little, after I write this post. Working in my studio again, making progress on a couple of old projects. Back to walking with my neighbor and her dogs. Worked in our yard for a while with my husband today. Lip surgery healing well, my face no longer an embarrassment of bruises.

In other words, I'm baaaaaack.

Mostly.

Part of me is still holding onto Mama, still trying to grasp the finality of our physical separation, still catching myself in the fantasy that she's right there in Minnesota at the nursing home waiting for me to come visit her for a week next month. Part of me thinks about her most of my waking hours, remembering, noticing mannerisms we have in common, thinking what she might say to me about things I say or do. This part of me isn't always sad. Sometimes it feels really good to see her face in my mind. Sometimes I have to chuckle when I do something for which I've criticized her in the past.

The bigger part of me, however, is headed into spring, longer-warmer-sunnier days, with eager anticipation. All parts of me are able to look at food a little more sensibly now. I have a new if-then goal: If I'm staring at the cupboard shelf or into the refrigerator and it's not about preparing a scheduled meal or doing inventory for grocery shopping, then I'm drinking a full glass of water and leaving the kitchen. Nice, huh!

************
Gratitude for the day: my friends Liz, Cathy, Christy and Lunnette; shooting stars, mosses and lichens

Need Help

2011-04-03T19:52:00.001-07:00

Funny thing how vain I am about my face... hair too, I guess. Last Thursday I had an odd (and fairly fast growing) mole removed from my lower lip and sent for biopsy (no results yet). It's taking a huge amount of will to post the picture that I took today of my lips.

Looking at myself from the perspective of an acquaintance, I see a woman who is struggling with grief over her mother's death, holding it inside, nodding and outwardly saying things like, "Well, she was 94 and lived a good, productive life... Our love and mutual respect was solid as a rock," while inwardly feeling lost, abandoned, stricken.

I see a woman who is eating her heart out, big plates heaped with food, seconds, between meal snacks, reverting to old habits for comfort, not asking her friends for help.

And here's a big one. I see a woman who did not go to her OA meeting on Saturday, even though it's a place where she always finds comfort and support, a place where just maybe she can open the door to her feelings. Why? Because of vanity. Plain and simple. I did not want to show my face.

It's OK. I'm not beating myself up about this. I suspect it's a pretty normal thing. Being aware of how important my face is makes me much more sympathetic to people who have birth defects, scars or other deformities of the face. It makes me more sympathetic to women who have face lifts and cosmetic surgery. It makes me want to contribute money to the Drs. who donate their time to do cleft palette surgeries on children from other countries. In the meantime, I am feeling the results of three weeks of overeating in the way my jeans fit. It's time for me to admit that I need help.

Help me, dear universe,
to feel rather than feed my feelings.
Let me cry and rage.
Let me curl up in a little ball and moan.
Let me turn toward friends
and away from food.
Let me write and speak my truth
rather than the deception of "it's all OK, really."
Let me breathe in healing energy.

Here's a picture of Mom, taken by my sister-in-law last fall, a time when she was feeling pretty chipper.

She loved to go to my brother's house, and especially their garden, every Sunday for dinner. There she would have a glass of wine and delicious food, very different from her regular nursing home meals. She's wearing Karen's gardening hat to keep the sun from her sensitive eyes and holding her arm up so she can wave for the picture. Absolutely a sweetheart! (See a couple more pictures here.)

* * * * * * * * * * * *
Gratitude for today: my husband, having had 68 darn good years with my mom, signs of spring, all three of my sisters-in-law.

So Big Love

2011-03-27T20:48:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in my brother's cozy kitchen, far from home (in Minnesota), listening to classical music and using his wife's laptop to check into Words Paint for the first time in several weeks. Can I even begin to write about my feelings and the events of the past two weeks? Where to start?

Family... my family in two parts.... my biological father... leaving my mother, younger brother and me so suddenly, a car accident taking his life 5 days after my fifth birthday. We were in California then, along with our grandparents and the extended family. Mom went back to college, thinking it was the only way she'd be able to support two kids; brother and I went to live with our paternal grandparents.

In college, Mom met Ed, who two years later became our step-dad. We packed up the car and moved to Minnesota, where Ed had just gotten a job teaching at the University. There started the second part of the family... Three more kids and down the road 4 grand kids and just recently a great grand kid.

Ed, bless his beautiful heart, died in 2006. Mom, missing him terribly after 59 years of the happiest and most congenial marriage I've ever seen, started to have health problems, which eventually lead to a need for nursing home care. Last January mom turned 94.

Two weeks ago, she developed pneumonia (again) and a high fever. They started her on a round of antibiotics and for a while we thought she might recover as she has in the past. A week ago Wednesday morning, my sister-in-law called to say her fever was down. But later the same day, it spiked again, higher than before. By Thursday evening, it looked like Mom might not make it. She was not rousing at all and her breathing was labored. Friday evening, March 18th, she died without waking, one of my brothers and his wife at her side.

I was not there. I have some mixed feelings about that, even though they tell me she seemed to be unaware of anything from Wednesday through the end. We don't know, do we? We just don't know what a dying person knows, what awareness they have, through which of their senses... Did she know all of the Minnesota family members, her grand kids and even the great grand baby, were in her room the day she died, holding her hands, wiping her brow, talking to her, stroking her cheeks? We don't know if she felt the love we all have for her surrounding her during this final journey. I don't know if my thoughts and prayers reached her.

Mom and I have always been close. We're alike in many ways. We look similar and have many of the same mannerisms. We share many interests... always have. Even in my rebellious years, I always got along with her. Or maybe I should attribute that to her... SHE got along with me... I've always admired and respected her, everything about her. I can't even begin to think how much I will miss her. I haven't really been able to go there yet in my mind.

Wednesday I few "home" to Minnesota to be with the Minnesota part of the family and to attend the memorial service which we had on Friday. I am so grateful to be here, to have had the opportunity to share this family time of grief and mourning. We've cried and we've laughed together, held onto each other, looked at pictures.

But under it all, I feel numb. I recognize that I'm holding back my emotions; not totally feeling my feelings, staying in my head, not allowing much of my heart to show. I've been eating a lot... not my abstinence foods, but much more snacking and larger meals than my plan allows. It doesn't seem to matter to me right now. Comfort. I'm looking for comfort and finding it partially in food, partially in sticking close to my siblings.

I'm the eldest family member now, at least on my parent's side of the family, a 68-year-old matron of the clan. I think at least three of my four siblings look at me that way. I don't know how I feel about that... I can not fill my mother's shoes, that's for sure. Dearest Mother, if only I could.

One thing I do know for sure... My mother's love surrounds me somehow... it is with me wherever I go, forever. And my love surrounds her too, wherever she is, forever. That part is absolute.

So tonight, with gratitude that she didn't have a long, suffering, painful departure, I send her a kiss and a soooooooooooooooo big love.

Chip Alert Level: HIGH

2011-03-13T00:30:00.000-08:00

Fear.
Eating out of fear.
Fear as a major root of self destructive behaviors.

Fear is the subject of this post. Not for the faint of heart...

For starters, my husband and I are watching a Great Courses lecture series, Great Minds of the Western Intellectual Tradition. A few nights ago, we learned about Thomas Hobbes, who asserted that people are ruled not by reason but by passions, especially the desire for power and the fear of violent death.

Hobbes' philosophy resonates with me a bit, getting me to think about fear... fear of making a mistake, fear of not being worthwhile, fear of being the first to arrive at the scene of a terrible automobile accident, fear of being alone, fear of falling, fear of terminal illnesses, fear of loss and being lost. This list could go on an on. If Hobbes is right, our fears lead us to seek security. For me, food is a security blanket which can temporarily warm me against the deep chill of fear.

What other defenses do I have?

Thursday night my husband checked MSN.com, seeing the first reports of the tragic events that are still unfolding in Japan. We turned on CNN and watched in dismay as the visual impact of the destruction of life and property by the earthquake and tsunami grew ever more frightening.

After about an hour, I said, "I need some chips." My husband said, "Me too." He brought out a large unopened bag of chips and we both dove into it. Handfuls of chips were stuffed mindlessly into a mouth by a hand that was oddly disassociated... mine, but not mine... and consumed with minimal awareness while I remained glued to the TV screen.

In fact, rarely have chips been a problem food for me. I prefer sweet. But I'm abstinent on sweet. So that night, it was all about me using chips in an attempt to ward off fear.... What was that fear? Wasn't I witnessing our total and complete lack of control over our destiny? So then, is the mother fear, the fear under all the other fears, about not having control? Seems it might be.

Since then, more chips have found their way into my hands. Not a huge amount like the first time, but not on my food plan either. I want to stop my hands and ask their cooperation in exploring fear, to invite fear to expose herself fully to me, to allow fear and lack of control to sift through my body, to feel my feelings.

Back to the question about what other defences I might have against fear. What are some possibilities?

-- prayer, especially the Serenity Prayer
-- actions directly related to the fear
-- writing
-- community
-- shift of focus
-- anti-anxiety meds
-- living in the moment
-- making a bucket list
-- doing things on my bucket list

Well, that list contains more antidotes than I thought might be available to me. I bet there are even more.

Chip alert at the end of writing this post: somewhat lower.

* * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: neighbor's chickens, time to sew, OA meetings, human generosity, my sisters-in-law

Sisterly Thoughts at 2 AM

2011-03-10T02:01:00.000-08:00

I'm a night owl... always have been. I love the wee hours, the darkness and the quiet, a time when I can get things accomplished, when work happens quickly and efficiently.

My sister is like that too, maybe even more inclined than I to sleep in daylight hours and play at night. Fifteen years ago, when I lived in Seattle and ran a small bead business, she used to come to my house after she got off work at her second-shift job and we'd weigh or count, package and price beads I had bought in the Czech Republic. Good times, good memories of us chatting and working together from midnight until 3 or 4 AM. Her help and companionship were blessings to me in so many ways.

I always trusted her to know when to ask vs. when to make decisions on her own. She had an uncanny ability to question my decisions exactly when they were dubious. If I had a regular business with employees, I would hire her instantly and pay her top dollar.

Sadly, we've grown apart since those fun times together. She's married now with a grade-school-aged, adopted son. We still live in the same state, but not within easy visiting distance. I miss her, miss the closeness we had in beadland.

I'm the eldest in the family; she's the youngest. Sixteen years between us. For a long time, I was almost a mother figure in her life, maybe still am. Our mother worked full time, leaving me as her day-time babysitter during the summers. Often people thought she was my child.

After graduating HS, she moved into my home as a roommate, which sort of worked OK, except that we still had aspects of mother/daughter in our relationship. It wasn't until those nights of bead-sorting together, working together, that a more sisterly relationship finally emerged.

Both of us have food addiction issues. Both of us have struggled all our adult lives with obesity and diets. A few weeks ago when we talked on the phone, she said she needed to find a way to make a change, that her health was poor in several significant ways because of her weight and dismal eating habits. I told her about OA and suggested she give it a try.

I don't want to push her, knowing full well that it won't do any good. Yet, I love her so much and want the best for her, want her to find her way back from the death grip of addiction. I wish I knew how to help her.

* * * * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: 53 degrees - yahooo, first motorcycle ride of the year - double yahoooo, my sister, my husband, deep purple crocus

Anonymity... Comment by Anonymous

2011-02-28T15:44:00.000-08:00

Saturday I wrote about suicide by overeating, the topic at our OA meeting that day. One person commented as follows:

Anonymous said...

"A" meetings are "safe" places where we can go and talk because we are told that "what is said in a meeting, stays in a meeting". We learn to build trust again through these meetings. I think it may have been an oversight on your end that you didn't realize that sharing one word, one sentence, one story is a breach of that trust. You are given a gift at those meetings by people who are as raw and hurting as you are, so a gentle reminder to keep that boundary.

Thanks for the reminder! I wish to apologize to whoever wrote the above comment and give my promise to be more careful in the future. I do value the safe space we have in our meetings to say whatever we need to say. And, yes, of course the atmosphere of safety depends on anonymity.

I guess when I wrote the post (here), it didn't seem likely that anybody could identify any of the members from what I wrote. However, one never knows who might read my post and be able to put two and two together. The post is now edited to remove all specific content from our OA meeting. Hopefully what remains is not in violation of any trust.

Actually, I'd like to know, who are you Anonymous? I'd like to apologize directly to you and understand more completely your interpretation of the OA anonymity policy. If you wish, please contact me by email: WordsPaint[at]gmail[dot]com or directly if you know me. Thanks.

Difficult Subject

2011-02-26T11:13:00.000-08:00

We grappled with the difficult subject of suicide in our OA meeting today. Members talked about how serious medical issues are caused by or worsened by overeating, about how both mind and body suffer terribly from a long-term pattern of binging and other compulsive eating disorders, about how it's a slow way of killing ourselves, a passive death.

It's got me thinking about my addiction to alcohol, an extremely active addiction in my 20s and 30s, and how I took so many risks with life then, like passing out with my car running, like driving in total black-out condition or driving fast and recklessly in the early stages of getting drunk. Was that behavior a semi-passive way of attempting suicide? Looking back, it certainly seems possible.

Why? Why would I want to kill myself? I don't know. Except for one broken-hearted occasion, I don't recall consciously thinking, "I want to die." It just seemed like fun, each first drink seeming to be all about having fun. But looking back, each next drink seems increasingly to have invited death to my side. It wasn't that I was unaware of that either. The next morning, I'd realize I'd been driving blacked out... again... and understand what a risk I was to myself and to others. It didn't stop me.

What stopped me with alcohol (and more recently with food) was that someone told me he was an alcoholic. He described his "symptoms" and told me about his AA recovery program. That was 30 years ago. It made a strong impression on me as the light bulb went off about my own compulsive use of alcohol. I quit for good within a year, without the benefit of AA. And now I would have to add, without the benefit of the whole spirituality-based recovery process.

A friend recently told me she considered her life to be a precious gift from God. Her way to repay or return this gift to God is to shepherd herself, to take care of and preserve herself as best she can.

Well that's an interesting thought to me, who's never been religious. Can I think of my life as being a gift? Hmmm, certainly it was a gift from my parents. That I lived through a serious childhood disease is a gift of well-practiced medicine. That I survived years of alcohol abuse is a gift of the universe.

I believe that my parents and doctors had intent behind giving me life. But the universe? Was it just chance? Some people would say not chance. Does it matter? I don't know. But I'm still here. Do I have a purpose and a responsibility because I've been given the gift of life many times over, whether by chance or intent (or a combination of both)?

And how does all this relate to food? Overeating and binging is a way of committing slow suicide, no doubt about it. My whole system... my heart, my joints and possibly most insidiously, my mind... suffers a slow death from overeating. Would I knowingly ingest a small amount of arsenic every day, slowly killing myself? No. Nor would I ever drink alcohol again in my life.

So why would I kill myself with food? I don't know the answer about why. But there is much of me that does want to live. The child within wants to live. I must honor and respect the gift of life.
* * * * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: getting a ride to OA (too much ice and snow for me to drive), quality pens and pencils, coffee, finishing my tax preps last night

Dear Readers...

2011-02-24T01:35:00.000-08:00

When I started writing Words Paint nearly a year ago in April, I almost made it a private blog, thinking it would be a way to journal, a way of writing down the bones of my recovery for myself, a way that is faster for me than writing with a pen or pencil and thus sometimes more spontaneous and truthful. My art blog with nearly 700 followers is more of a dialog, a place to write for my readers, a pleasure to be sure and at the same time a responsibility to others.

I envisioned Words Paint to be by me, for me. I decided not to encourage readers and not to get into the entertainment or education business with it at all.

My purpose remains pretty much the same, but my feelings have changed. And so, dear readers, today I'm here to thank you for your support. Those of you who write comments have an uncanny, generous, loving way of making me think more deeply. My gratitude for this is huge. Also, I know a number of people who do not have blogs or blogging IDs are reading Words Paint on a regular basis. Sometimes they email me or talk to me about one of my posts. You know who you are. I appreciate that you've let me know you're here.

You are my witnesses. You help to keep me focused, clean (mostly) and sober simply by the good thoughts I know you hold for me. Thank you!

Just for fun, here are some pictures taken today and last week.

Island cow and pig.
These two lovely beasts
live for celebrations.
They take all special occasions to heart!

Did I say heart?

Last week the weather was spring-like,
chilly yet holding promise.
This lake is the water reservoir
for Roche Harbor Resort.

Snowdrops,
our earliest wildflowers,
are already blooming.

Today, though, is a different story.
These daffodils may not be too happy
about the weather reversal.

Black-capped chickadees
are wishing we'd get out there
and put more feed in the tube.

We more than met their demands,
filling a second feeder for them.

I love how the snow looks on the trees!

Late afternoon sun
peeking through the clouds,
lighting the snow in the tree tops.

Today's gratitude:
YOU!
Thank you again for being here!

Throwing Food Away

2011-02-19T15:05:00.000-08:00

One of the topics at our OA meeting this morning was "throwing food away," how most of us regard food as precious, something not to be wasted. Certainly that's how I was raised and how I've continued to live my life.

The discussion began when one of the members told us about how at breakfast this morning, he had two sausages, the perfect amount for him and his food plan. His wife, who also served herself two sausages, not wanting to eat her second, passed it over to his plate. Silently he told himself he'd just leave it there on the plate, that he'd had enough and was satisfied with two. But somehow, by the time he finished his breakfast coffee, he'd eaten it.

Lots of places to go with that story, including:

-- asking people close to us to help us by not offering us their unwanted portions
-- maintaining mindfulness as we eat
-- childhood patterns and parental influences about eating
-- the preciousness of food and the money it takes to buy it
-- prayer and being spiritually fit

I've been thinking about how it's never been OK to throw food away, about the guilt that always besets me when I clean spoiled foods (particularly left-overs) from the refrigerator. If I cook more than is needed for a meal and it's not enough for a whole meal later on, my habit is to eat it, even if I am already full.

I tell myself it won't keep; I'll never remember to eat it later; it's too good to waste; think of all the starving people in the world; I shouldn't add to the world's garbage; if I throw it away, fruit flies or other pests will get into it; it cost hard-earned money to buy it.... etc. etc. etc.

It's all nonsense! Food is doomed (or thrown away) the minute the animal/fish is killed or the fruit/vegetable/grain is picked. Once harvested, whether it passes through my body's processing system or not, it is already headed toward decomposition. Yes, it may be delicious and nutritious, but it is only food. I can throw it away. I can waste it, not waist it.

* * * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: time this afternoon to sew, sunshine, community/neighborhood, my fellow OA members

Takes More Than Abstinence

2011-02-16T19:34:00.000-08:00

Day 139 of abstinence today, close to 5 months with no chocolate, candy, cookies, cake, pie, ice cream or pastries, not even a smidgen or a taste. These days have gone by well:

-- I don't feel deprived
-- The voices, the internal dialogs about having treats, are gone
-- I feel pretty good physically
-- I'm getting better at feeling my feelings
-- Mutual friendship and respect are improving with my husband
-- I'm starting to trust in OA, enough to give away my quality "fat clothes"
-- Little by little I am developing faith in a higher power

Apparently, however, it takes more than abstinence from binge foods to go from size 12 down to size 10 jeans. I've been wearing 12's for about 4 months... tight at first, then comfortable, then holding steady for a long time. I've stopped getting smaller.

I know what the problem is. I haven't stuck to my food plan. Bringing it out, dusting it off, here it is: three meals a day, nothing between meals, no seconds, no more per meal than will fit on one plate or in one bowl. This is a simple meal plan. And it works. In my first 5 months of OA (prior to the current 139 days of abstinence), I went from extremely tight size 18 jeans to loose size 14 jeans. In those months, I pretty much stuck to the food plan.

Since then, binge-food abstinence has been perfect, but I gradually ramped up the amount of food I was eating for meals, plus I added nibbling and then outright eating between meals.

Wake up, peaceful bird! This is overeating! Do I want to continue overeating? NO! Do I want to wear size 10 jeans and take an additional load off my knees and feet? YES! I need help to get back on and then to stick with the plan. HELP! I can not seem to do this by myself. I ask my higher power to take over here. I surrender my will.

* * * * * * *

Gratitude for today: Lake Briggs (serene, beautiful, quiet) and the good people who built the trails so we could go there

The Stuff That's Under Everything Else

2011-02-13T17:39:00.000-08:00

I've been writing about clutter, about how there's fear of forgetting under my procrastination about clutter, about how at the very bottom of each pile there's fear of tossing away bits of myself, as if both the bits and the remainder are insignificant. Thus fear of being insignificant, of not counting for anything, of being small, unimportant and weak is really what's at the bottom of everything else, at the bottom of every pile and stack of clutter.

Yesterday and today I've been contemplating that fear and asking myself what to do about it.

I could take a rational look at these feelings, which probably wouldn't seem very rational under close scrutiny. Yet I don't want to deny or criticize my feelings. They are what they are. However, they get in the way of clearing clutter, which I've already determined is very important to do. So now what?

In OA, the answer is: turn it all over to my higher power. In other words, let go of fear and give up trying to control.

I want to control my mind, to make it remember EVERYTHING, every detail, every person, every thing that happens, every thing I've ever learned. Well, we know that's not possible, not even a little. I need to consciously let go of the notion that if only I do x, y and z I'll be able to remember everything, surrender the notion that surrounding myself with piles of stuff will keep the memories alive for me.

I need to experience and acknowledge the losses, loss of memory, loss of tangible reminders, even loss of self, and then let go of the fear, let God take care of my fears and any other stuff that's under the piles.

Being mindful of letting go and daily progress at eliminating the clutter are my goals. I made some progress yesterday and will give it another hour or so this evening. Yay.

* * * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: spring weather, going to the dump with my husband, no clutter around my computer, selling my old (and possibly collectible) bicycle to somebody who will enjoy fixing it up.

Fear of Forgetting

2011-02-11T18:12:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I wrote about clutter, about de-cluttering my physical space and mental space. I agreed to clear four piles from my computer workspace last evening. Here's what happened.

First, and not unexpectedly, I found that I could get a dozen or so things checked off my to-do list, even things that have been on it for a long time, in order to avoid the piles of clutter. Big avoidance. In the past I would have baked cookies or apple crisp or a delicious pie first and felt entitled to eat myself silly prior to starting the de-clutter job. How could de-cluttering be so odious and why???? With pie and cookies off the option list and all the doable to-do things done, by midnight last night there was nothing for it but to begin with the first pile.

Resistance. What is behind the resistance? As I was working with that first pile, I noticed myself getting somewhat anxious (fearful) about tossing things. Here's a partial list of some of the things I was reluctant to toss:

-- business cards, especially artists from whom I've bought things
-- the original copy of a poem I wrote
-- several greeting cards from acquaintances or customers
-- magazine articles
-- invoices from long ago purchases
-- a picture given to me by my husband
-- several poems (not by me)
-- several small gifts from blogging friends
-- maps and brochures from places I've been

Well, there were other things, but this list is somewhat representative. Gifts and cards were the most difficult. Truth be told, I still have almost all of them. Why? Yes they mean something to me as symbols of the fondness people have for me. But why do I need the symbols? I know these people care.

I think I know what it is. I think it's fear of forgetting... forgetting the person, none of whom (except my husband) are in my immediate circle of friends, some of whom I've never met... forgetting who sold me something I might want to buy again... forgetting where I filed the typed version of a poem I wrote... forgetting the information I learned from an article in a magazine... forgetting poems I read a few times and liked.

My mother has dementia, rather seriously, which began when she was about my age. She covered it well for many years, but as she reached her 80s, it became more and more obvious as she'd grope for words, make up stories and flat out admit that she could not recall. I've noticed a slow progression in that direction in myself as well, starting when I was about 50, when I became increasingly unable to recall dates, times, numbers.

I don't want to forget about the people in my life. And there have been a lavish of them as I've traveled all over the country to teach and developed many precious and lasting but distant friendships with students and other artists. Then there are blog friends, hundreds of beaders, quilters and other types of artists with whom I've shared so much. I don't want to forget any of them. I don't WANT to forget anything. Yet it happens every day.

Perhaps my reluctance to deal with the piles has something to do with fear of forgetting some of these people and things. If I clear the clutter by filing these reminders in boxes in the attic, they'll be as good as forgotten, for I know I'll never look in the boxes again. I know this because there are already boxes like that in the attic. They came when I moved here 13 years ago and have never been opened. Therefore, my choice seems to be: either throw away these things or leave them in piles of clutter in my living space.

Either way, my fear is reality based. Alas, I will forget some of them whether or not I keep the physical reminders.

After two hours, the four stacks of stuff around my computer was reduced to one small pile. Many things were tossed or put in recycle. A few things got moved to existing piles in other rooms for attention later. It feels great to sit here typing at my computer with empty counter space and the chair nearby which is no longer a "shelf" holding a 2 ft. pile of papers.

I didn't do any more de-cluttering today in the physical world. But this post will help me in the future, let's say tomorrow as I attack the clutter on and under the kitchen table.

* * * * * *
Today's gratitude: wool sweaters, chickens, good neighbors, doing home improvement projects with my husband

Clutter

2011-02-10T12:11:00.000-08:00

It strikes me that there could be a strong correlation between cutter in my house and clutter in my home, house being the physical place where I live and home being the emotional place where I live, my soul or my psyche. Maybe one feeds the other. Maybe the clutter, the piles and stacks of stuff around my computer, for example, are more than a metaphor for the piles and stacks of resentments, blames and losses in my mind. Maybe the physical clutter actually contributes, makes higher (or deeper), the mental clutter. Maybe the reverse is true as well.

For ~~years~~ decades I've been saying I want to de-clutter (get rid of the physical stuff in my house). Once in a while I take on a surface or a shelf, clearing it. Feels good when I do, although it's hard to get started and often I simply re-locate the stuff where I don't see it. But most of the time, I continue to dig through the clutter when I need something, fuss about how it looks, gripe about the time it takes to try to find anything, and berate myself for procrastinating.

Today I want to get to the bottom of procrastination and fix it. Our marriage counselor talks about ego, the part of my personality that resists change, that wants to keep everything just like it is, both physically and emotionally. She tells us we must reach deep into a different place in order to change, a place that begins in compassion, respect, gentleness and love. The ego will resist all change, requiring a conscious effort to put it aside. I'm wondering if her wisdom about changing our attitudes and behaviors toward one another might be useful with clutter procrastination.

If clutter procrastination with the physical stuff in my house IS inter-related with procrastination of clearing emotional clutter, then maybe I could improve my odds of enjoying my marriage by getting rid of physical clutter, one day at a time, one pile at a time. Duh... sounds like a no-brainer to me.

To that end, the Costco magazine again proves useful with an article in the current issue about De-Cluttering (pg 43). I especially like the list of 5 questions to ask when deciding whether to keep or not to keep any specific item:

-- When was the item last used?
-- When might I use it again?
-- Does the object enhance or hinder my life?
-- Has it affected the quality of the life I'm living or want to live?
-- Is it replaceable?

That makes sense. Once the decision about keeping is made, it's important to physically move the item, to put it away if keeping it, or to put it into a specific container destined for the thrift store, dump, recycle, donate, give or sell.

I know from experience that I have to be very wary of the sell option. I procrastinate on that too. I have many boxes of things that people might buy, that I could try to sell on eBay, that are somewhat collectible. Do I do anything about selling them? No. Is it because of the ego wanting to hold on or is it just because I'm not fond of selling? Who knows, maybe both. I need to let go of these things. They are millstones around my neck.

Am I willing to make a commitment right here and now? Oooooh, I feel the resistance... the little voice is saying, "You need to work on your art and catch up on blogging and take your walk... that's enough for one day... you can start de-cluttering later, some other day." I say no to the voice and yes to de-cluttering, one day at a time... starting today.

Today I will de-clutter four piles of stuff in the immediate vicinity of my computer... put away, throw away and recycle all of it. I will ask the five questions and make decisions based on my answers.

Tomorrow I will file a report here and also write more about this subject, about how my 68-year-old memory is cluttered and about how I hold onto stuff, memorabilia, because I'm afraid I'll forget.

* * * * * *
Today's gratitude list: cottage cheese 'n' home-made applesauce, sunshine, signs of spring, people who take the time to read and write blogs.

Mom & Me

2011-02-04T09:58:00.000-08:00

A while ago, Karen of Waisting Time mentioned her son, speculating about what he might notice and/or think about her weight struggles. That got me thinking about my mom.

I recall nothing about Mom and food until I was about 9 or 10. The family was sitting on the floor of our living room playing a game of Monopoly. Mom was kneeling and I noticed that her knees were really large, like big ships on the ocean. Looking at my knees and comparing them to hers I felt some sort of amazement that hers could be so large. I don't remember being critical or embarrassed about her knees, just in awe of them.

Our body types are just alike. We carry weight all over our bodies and tend to have heavy legs even when we are not overweight by medical standards. We tend to retain a waist even at our heaviest. Medical people always raise an eyebrow when they see our weight on the charts... "You don't look that heavy... Must have heavy bones..." Ah yes, heavy bones.

Looking back to my early school years, I never thought of Mom as overweight. However, she probably weighed about what I do now, possibly 20 pounds more. She didn't talk about food or her weight that I remember, not until much later. But she did hide the chocolate chips and the cookies. I always thought she was hiding them from me. But maybe she was trying to put them out of her own temptation sight-lines as well.

Later, when I was in high school, Mom took the two of us to a "diet doctor," who put us both on a pill to ramp up our metabolism. Yikes! I recall the jitters and anxiety experienced while on the pill diet. Mom and I both lost weight. We both gained it back the next year and never talked of it again. Until now, I always thought she went with me out of solidarity, that SHE didn't need a diet, that she went on it with me to help me.

Mom didn't like to chide her kids, at least not very directly. Sometimes that was a good thing. All five of us grew up pretty free to develop our own pathway. She is/was also a very private person. She didn't discuss her problems and she didn't seem keen on discussing mine. She never talked about her weight with me, although once in a while, when I was into queen sizes, she'd find some tactful way to mention a new diet she'd read about. I think we both tried the grapefruit and eggs diet at the same time (during my college years), although we didn't share our experiences with it.

The pill diet was the only time we openly discussed diet or overeating until about 25 years ago when empty-nested, she got into an exercise program and began, in her words, to eat more healthy foods. Her idea at the time was to help Dad slim down a bit. They quit eating snacks, relegated the peanut butter to the back of the top shelf, concentrated on fresh vegetables and smaller portions.

Over about a year's time, Mom went from (I'm guessing here) large or extra-large sized to small or medium sized clothing. She never gained it back. Dad did. After they moved into assisted living, he regained his extra chins and a bit of a pot belly. But Mom stays slim.

When I visit her (she's in Minnesota and age 94 now), I often sit with her while she eats. I watch what she eats. She tries to eat all the fruit and vegetables, picks at the meat, skips most of the bread/potatoes, and only eats dessert if it's really a good one. This is pretty much unconscious on her part (I think).

The change in her eating habits, starting when she was about 70, is now so ingrained that even tempted by sweets for breakfast and desserts for every lunch and every dinner at the nursing home, she maintains her slimness.

Next time I visit her, I'll see if she's willing to talk about her life-time issues with weight. Did she struggle? Did she have self-image problems because of it? Did she binge? Did she look at me and worry about the 240 pounds I carried around most of the time? Was she even aware of it? Certainly I was rarely and barely aware of it with her.

I don't want to weigh 240 again in my life. But it's not so much because I feel ugly or even that it's unhealthy for my heart, feet, back, knees, etc. to carry around so much weight. The main reason is binging. To get to that weight always involves a steady increase in binging with a resulting aura of self-loathing and sense of being crazy. Thanks to abstinence and OA, this is a thing I'm not facing right now.

* * * * * *
Today's gratitude: Mom, Dad, family times together reading out loud and playing board games, everyone in my OA group and recovery bloggers who share so much, rain, our marriage counselor

Pat on the Back!

2011-01-31T17:55:00.000-08:00

Home after four days away. Took a fun/challenging, 3-day quilting workshop. Catered lunches were supplied, with lavish desserts baked right there in the kitchen adjacent to our classroom, plus fresh-baked cookie snacks in the afternoon and other students sharing their dark-chocolate-coated blueberries. I don't want to write about the desserts! Just let it be known they smelled and looked like the best of the best.

Struggle to maintain my sobriety? Yes, a bit. The class was challenging for me... not my normal approach to art and not my most comfortable medium, lots of new techniques, and most of the students way more advanced both as artists and as makers of art quilts than I am. Did I feel frustrated and inadequate some of the time? Yes, I did, perhaps most of the time. Did I smell the chocolate brownies (oops, I wasn't going to tell...) and want some? Yes, it crossed my mind. Did I watch other women cheerfully devouring snacks and desserts? Yes, I did.

However, ta-dah, did I take a smidgen, a taste, a bite or a serving of any of it? No, I did not! Pat on the back and bravo me! Did I eat a bit too much at meal time? Hmmm. I shall try to be honest here... Yes, a few meals were a bit more than I have at home. Plus, I don't normally eat much at all for breakfast; whereas I did partake of the free hotel breakfast (in a mostly sensible way).

This is a good lesson. The OA approach works for me. Sobriety works for me; it's not as difficult as diets. There was a woman in the class on a diet, who talked rather constantly about what she could and could not eat, what she wanted to eat, what she wished they had provided for us, etc. My experience was different. I didn't think about food, except when they brought out a steaming fresh plate of desserts and announced we could "come and get it." I didn't talk about food at all that I can recall.

Actually, it really wasn't very difficult at all. Back in my days of yo-yo dieting, I had much, MUCH WORSE times trying to limit how many cookies or brownies or candies I ate. I am very grateful to have learned about OA and for all the sources of support keeping me sober!
* * * * *
Today's I'm grateful for: blooming Narcissus and Hellebore, Northern Flickers feeding on our property, safe travels to and from my class, sleeping in my own bed, longer days, good neighbors, silence

Note to Myself and My Husband

2011-01-27T10:53:00.000-08:00

Let's buy a dozen roses
half pink and half yellow
to celebrate our differences

another time
we can celebrate
our sameness
our many common interests
beliefs and values

but for today
let's honor
our differences

you are intrigued
by gardening
by guns and history
battles and ships
biography
and the past

I am delighted
by beads and fabrics
making art
feeling my feelings
and the present

I am cautious
balking at decisions
you are bold
quickly making your choice

You feel free
to spend money
I get nervous
without a sizable chunk
in savings

You want frequent
verbal contact
I want time
by myself

Can we celebrate
these differences today

Can we value and honor
that our differences
bring sparkle
to our together life

I Don't Want to Write About...

2011-01-23T23:59:00.000-08:00

fingers hesitating
mind balking at the idea
of writing about
my husband and me
our history
and current conflict
over the telephone

never mind
I'll give it a try

a few times a year
for work or family events
I travel alone
without my husband

sometimes gone a few days
sometimes a week or more

my husband likes it
when I check in daily
by telephone

he likes to give me
island news
even national news
cat doings
his doings

he doesn't like me to call
in the morning
or when I'm not alone
or when he's busy

often it seems he gives
only cursory interest
to what I'm doing
I've learned to
tell him just the headlines

often we get into arguments
some of our worst
are when we're on the phone

most times I call
at the end of my day
I'm tired
and it doesn't go well
we argue
I brood and can't sleep
which makes it worse
the next evening

I begin to dread
the telephone

tonight I told him
I prefer not to call
later this week
when I'll be gone
for three days

he says it means
I don't care enough
about him or our home
to want to check in

he says
I short-change him
on the "we factor"
in our marriage

I feel so foolish
our behaviours so petty
goals one day
squabbles the next

I have this notion
that by now
in our 60's
and married for 10 years
we should have
our relationship ducks
all lined up
in a beautiful straight line

sadly
we don't

I'm feeling my feelings
in these words
grey
darkness
hopeless
sad

my dad used to say
damned if you do
damned if you don't

that's how it seems to be
phone or no phone
how will we find a solution
maybe our counselor can help

Joining Karen at the Goal Post

2011-01-22T16:43:00.000-08:00

Karen, inspired by Michele's comment, just wrote a great post about her goals for a healthy lifestyle. After stumbling around a bit for words, she came up with a tidy start, a list that I find quite inspirational and helpful.

Goals have always been a nemesis for me, saying or writing them even more than having them. Maybe it's fear, some sort of goal-jinx syndrome, I don't know, but somehow, Karen's first goal post gave me the courage to face the same question and actually write my own list.

Here then, is my first draft, my first attempt...

My Goals for a Healthy Lifestyle

I want to accept that I do not now, and never will, have a so-called “normal relationship” with food. My nature is to have an addictive relationship with food, to binge and to overeat. To try to control my nature is to fail and feel crazy.

I want to continue abstinence from my binge foods, one day at a time.

I want to develop the habit of stopping, breathing and feeling my feelings at the very moment I notice myself overeating or grazing.

I want to wear size 10 jeans and size medium shirts.

I want to establish and hold to a routine of walking about two miles on the average of 6 days/week; also to make arm and toning exercises a part of every day chores, like brushing my teeth.

I want to continue to enhance my spiritual awareness, opening myself more to trust, hope and love; letting go of fear, resentment, shame, blame and control.

Gratitude for the day: cat on my lap and her deliciously sweet purr, PJ's candid blog, beads and fabric, my old computer and even older, nearly defunct and soon-to-be-replaced HP printer (in constant, even abusively frequent, service since 2001).

PS. I've not been blogging a lot because I've been obsessively (my husband's word) quilting; if you'd like to see, take a look here.

If-then thinking... It works!

2011-01-18T20:13:00.000-08:00

Been quilting up a storm... made 105 blocks in past two weeks, which will become two throw-sized quilts in the near future. Plus I'm hand quilting a big reproduction bed quilt. And I'm back to my beading. Ergo... not so much time for blogging.

But tonight I just had to get a concept that's been working for me into words.

End of Dec. I wrote a post about some thoughts/wishes for the year ahead (here). One of them was:

I might want to be kind to my body
daily arm toning
daily clam shells to strengthen hips

I distinctly recall thinking, "fat chance... might want, but won't do." Plus in the week of snow and ice that followed, I wasn't even walking. No exercise at all on most days. Not so good.... What can a gal who doesn't like exercise do about this?

Well, help comes from unexpected places. Open the January issue of the Costco members' magazine (the one you automatically get as a member and probably recycle unread most months) to page 29. It's an article about Heidi Grant Halvorson, author of Succeed: How We Can Reach Our Goals.

Here's the part that grabbed me and changed my response to exercise, hopefully forever!

Halvorson says...one solution is to use "if-then" planning, and explains how she used it to conquer her own struggles with losing her "baby weight."

Halvorson says she hates to exercise and "will hate it forever." In the past she would promise herself to work out three times a week, but kept putting it off.

Finally, she says, "I came to terms with the fact that my willpower was not going to be up to the task of keeping me from impulsively eating or making good decisions. So I started using if-then plans. If it is Monday, Wednesday or Friday at 9 o'clock, then I'm going to work out. If I'm hungry, then I'm going to have a vegetable. And it was remarkable." (She's lost 50 pounds in a year.)

If-then! Why not, I thought. If I'm making my morning coffee, then I'm also doing my arm toning exercises. If I'm watching TV, then I'm also doing my toe/arch exercises. So far, it's working like a charm... almost effortlessly. I make coffee and I do the arm things. Takes 15 minutes. When I'm finished, I mark an A on my calendar. Missed only one day since I started two weeks ago. Makes me want to buy Heidi's book....

Now I need an "if" to go with "then I'll do 12 clam shell exercises on each side." Maybe I could try, "if I'm headed to the computer room to check email, then I'll lay on the bed and do clamshells on the way." OK, good idea. I'll give it a try. (Read more about if-then planning here.)

* * * * * * * * *
Today's gratitude: Heidi Grant Halvorson, fabric and beads, tasty dinner in good company of my husband at Jimmy's Paradise Cafe, Lunnette and Christy, the sound of a fully contented purrrrr, gentle rains, Muddy Waters, Johnny Lee Hooker.

Singin the Snow n Ice Blues

2011-01-10T21:16:00.000-08:00

Been quite chilly, temps at or below freezing, around here... for about a hundred years it seems. But I don't mind that so much. We keep a good fire going and wool sweaters layered over a hoodie keep me warm enough. It's the snow and ice that get me down. Slip-sliding on our trails, not walking much because I fear falling, not driving because I fear sliding off the road (as I did two winters ago, totaling my car and any small winter bravado I may have had).

It's the snow n ice blues that make me eat, she says, tongue in cheek. And I seem powerless to resist. Am I surprised? Well, no. When did I ever have power over my eating habits? Haven't touched any of my binge foods, so I'm keepin' my abstinence number (102 days as of today!).

However, the way I've been nibbling this n that, I might should add a few things to my binge foods list, like peanut butter, all nuts for that matter, like potato chips, all chips for that matter, like bread and maybe even cheese. These are things I can have around and eat only in moderation. Except now, when I'm singin' the snow n ice blues and cruising the kitchen on a regular basis.

Ice and snow. It's winter. It happens. Get busy, missy! Clean the house! Bead a piece about the blues! Write morning pages! Just do it! And accept. Accept weakness and powerlessness. Weather happens and you can't do a thing to change it. Think serenity rather than food.

Well, there! I guess I told myself a thing or two!

* * * * *

Today's gratitude: fabric (again), dry fire wood, heat tape on our pipes, not having to drive anywhere today.

Emergency Rations

2011-01-09T22:21:00.000-08:00

My husband and I are very different in how we deal with uncertainty and concerns for our welfare in the future.

I assume: we're both resourceful and resilient; whatever happens, we'll figure out what to do; we have what we need. To me it makes little sense to prepare for unknown and unlikely misfortune.

My husband assumes: we need to be super-prepared for calamity no matter how unlikely (and probably it's more likely than we think).

Based on his thinking, we have: a boss-new, super-quiet, super-efficient generator; a stock-pile of basic foods (12 + large boxes full) and a list of more to be purchased soon; a 20-day supply of military field-rations (MREs); an assortment of fuels; a few guns; and more that I won't mention here. All that is in addition to regular "back-up" stuff.

Based on my thinking, we would have enough food on hand to get us through a bad snow storm and a lantern for when the power goes out.

Our water needs are met because we collect rain water (4 large cisterns full of it, thousands of gallons), our only water source. Our heat needs are met because when trees/branches fall, we chop them up for fire wood, currently with more than a 3-year supply ready to use.

Why am I writing this? I don't know... just thinking out loud about our differences, trying to accept both ways of thinking as valid, part of me being grateful to him for providing this level of security, part of me feeling a bit guilty for not getting more involved with his emergency preparedness efforts.

****

Gratitude for the day: time to talk on the phone with my long-time bestest friend, popcorn and a good movie with my husband and our cat, fabric

A Few More Thoughts about Happiness

2011-01-07T02:40:00.000-08:00

I'm still trying to sort through and process my thoughts about happiness, thinking about how it's always seemed important that I be happy, upbeat, optimistic and cheerful. (Interesting that the operative word there is "be" not "feel.")

Where does the pressure to be happy come from? Probably in part from our society. We are so sensitive to depression that we jump on pills, cures, happy lights, vitamin D, anything to not feel down. Why our society is that way, I really don't know. My mom felt the pressure too and was always very critical of herself for any and all of her "negative thoughts and feelings."

Closer to home is the pressure I get from my husband, who doesn't like it when I'm not happy. First he tries to jolly me out of it, joking or offering absurd solutions. Then he might make a few reasonable suggestions, something to fix whatever is making me tired, sad, worried, pissy, etc. If I don't respond, don't follow his suggested cures, don't snap out of it, he starts to develop an irritation which can lead to resentment and sometimes nasty arguments between us.

Earlier this evening, sensing I was a bit down, he asked if I was excited about a quilting class I'm taking on Saturday. He wanted me to respond with an enthusiastic, "Yes!" Bless him, he just wants me to be happy; to fix it when I'm not.

What I want is to have it be OK with me and OK with him when I'm not happy. I want us both to acknowledge and accept that fear, boredom, weariness, sadness, worry and even anger (the one my husband dislikes the most) need not be ignored, cancelled (fixed) or covered over.

A critical part of me, reading what I just wrote, thinks I'm just asking for license to be crazy*, that I SHOULD ALWAYS at least TRY to be happy, to look at the positive side of everything, glass half full, find the silver lining. A more accepting part of me is saying I've been there, done that, at the expense of pretense and a fractured sense of being.

Sometimes, inspired by Mary Oliver's poem, The Wild Geese, I write the following in my journal: I do not have to be perfect, I do not have to be thin, I do not have to be happy, I do not have to be intelligent, I do not have to be good. It always calms me to write these words, takes the pressure off, makes it OK to be human, to have weaknesses.

___.___.___.___

*See? Here I am equating not happy with crazy!

Happy New Year - Take 2

2011-01-05T11:16:00.000-08:00

Oh dear, now I'm on backtrack mode about the happy new year thing from my previous post. It seems my husband and other readers took it that I don't like to say or hear "Happy new year," like the Grinch who stole goodness away from the whole year and slapped hands for even thinking about pleasure and happiness. Erg! My fault; I wasn't very clear.

Actually, I don't mind saying or hearing that friendly, well-wishing greeting at all. In fact, I say it a lot, like when I answer the phone or shopping at the store, buying a coffee, on blogs. And I mean it. For everyone (myself included) I wish for good times ahead, a year where love, peace, joy, good health, and happy times flow amply. Positive thinking is a good thing and greetings like this are likely to contribute to more happiness in the world through psychology's concept of self-fulfilling prophecy or the ripple effect.

So when I wrote: I've been slightly bothered by the phrase "Happy new year," I didn't mean bothered as in irritated or annoyed, rather more in the sense of perplexed. Saying and hearing it so often at this time of year makes me think about happiness in general and the pursuit of it.

This seems to be a good opportunity to look at my own need to be happy and what I do to get there. Ten things I did in pursuit of happiness in the past (and with a few exceptions in the present as well):

Eat sweets, especially chocolate.
Shop for shoes or clothes.
Call a friend.
Buy art supplies.
Write morning pages.
Cook a special, fancy dinner; maybe invite friends.
Go out for breakfast, lunch or dinner with my husband or a friend.
Call my parents or sibling.
Bake cookies, cake, sweet bread, etc.
Play card games on my computer.

Huh! A bunch of these things have to do with food. Well, that's no surprise. Using food to medicate is a life-long habit. Just thinking with my keyboard here...

what's under my behaviours
avoidance
avoidance of
loneliness, boredom, grief, despair

and what's under my avoidance
maybe a sense of entitlement
a sense that I deserve to be happy

and what's under my sense of entitlement
maybe it's ego, a strength of will
seeking control

shall I look at
avoidance, entitlement and control
from a different perspective
shall I say instead
a whole me
notices what is
and accepts lack of control

what if I let myself feel despair
stop trying to push it away
invite it into my heart
allow it to be a part of me

and despair is just one
shame, anger, loneliness, sadness and fear
are her sisters
I push them all away
maybe in small part
because of some intrinsic belief
that I need always to be happy

maybe if I don't run
from anti-happiness
maybe then
happy will be all the brighter
when it's with me

Hello 2011

2011-01-04T16:11:00.000-08:00

For as long as I can remember, I've been slightly bothered by the phrase "Happy new year." "Happy birthday" I can handle just fine, as birthdays seem well suited to a day of celebration and being happy. But a whole year?

As American citizens we are granted a constitutional right to the pursuit of happiness. And so we feel entitled, maybe even pushed into ever ongoing attempts to find, seek, make, discover and live in a state of rapture. Here's what I think happens. Sometimes seeking pleasure and happiness gets in the way of experiencing it... the seeking itself takes over and becomes the goal. (Duh ~ I am more mindful of that trap now, more open to seeing simply what IS with delight.)

Another possible downside to continual pursuit of happiness may be a decreased ability to function emotionally, physically and spiritually during the inevitable hard times. If we stop chasing and stop fighting, relaxing into what is, noticing a wide range of feelings, perhaps then we will actually experience our lives as having wholeness.

I'm sure there are many philosophers who have given great thought and good words to the concept of happiness while I simply scrape at the surface. Yet, entering 2011, I wish anyone who is reading this and myself a "whole new year!" May we take it all in, experience all of it fully, the happy and the unhappy, the delightful and the boring, the fun and the drudgery. May we open ourselves to all of it.

Thanks to Eat Pray Love

2010-12-31T01:27:00.000-08:00

I've been reading (no, savoring is a better word, slowly savoring) Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert for the past couple of months and have just begun reading her book, Committed, about marriage. Both books are memoirs, exploring the important concepts of faith, love, marriage, language, prayer, food, and self, written it seems almost more for her own benefit than for the reader's. So many things she says make sense to me, plus I appreciate her wordsmanship skills. I like her.

At the end of Eat Pray Love, she writes about a time before the events of the book when she retreated, alone, to a remote island for 10 days, vowing to utter not one word to anybody and with no books or anything to distract her from her purpose which was to work out some kind of deal, some way to get along with her demons, her pain and fears. I so resonate with the description of her reasons for silence:

We create words to define our experience and those words bring attendant emotions that jerk us around like dogs on a leash. We get seduced by our own mantras (I'm a failure... I'm lonely... I'm a failure... I'm lonely...) and we become monuments to them. To stop talking for a while, then, is to attempt to strip away the power of words, to stop choking ourselves with words, to liberate ourselves from our suffocating mantras.

After some days of silence, the mantras dropped away and raw emotions - sorrow, anger and shame - bubbled to the surface of her awareness. Do you know what she did with them? She invited them into her heart. She told each of them in turn, "It's over. It's safe. I love you."

I love the idea of inviting my unpopular feelings, like hers - fear, shame, resentment, guilt, anger - into my heart. Giving up resistance to them. Accepting them into the warm home of my heart.

I see the value of silence in this process, but don't feel it is absolutely necessary. Perhaps I can take some baby steps here, thinking about the emotions of the day (today some fears about mortality, particularly my Mom who is approaching her 94th birthday and the husband of a good friend who was just diagnosed with incurable cancer and given only a few weeks to live) and practice inviting them into my heart. I have goosebumps thinking about it. I will try.

Late Night Musings

2010-12-30T02:07:00.000-08:00

trying to feel my feelings
a little sad
to see 2010 winding down
wanting
to have finished a few things

in the moment though
all is well
our house is warm enough
house
in a metaphorical sense

teaching a child to bead today
her focus
amazing for an 8 year old
sharing
my passion with her

so many blessings given me
accept them
forget about deserving
or not
because love is all there is

New Beginnings

2010-12-28T01:13:00.000-08:00

thinking about new beginnings
a time when many set their goals
and take baby steps toward change

what do I want to change in 2011

resisting
my hands still
keyboard silent for a long time

what might I want to change in 2011

oh, that's a better question

I might want to lighten my load
give up many many possessions
work on reducing the clutter

I might want to let generosity
gain a stronger foothold
less hoarding more giving

I might want to be kind to my body
daily arm toning
daily clam shells to strengthen hips

I might want to let go of angst
oh there's a good one
use mindfulness and serenity prayer

I'm not good a goals
never have been
may this poem be a new beginning

Note to Self About the Holidays

2010-12-21T19:07:00.000-08:00

solstice
christmas
hanukkah
or st. nicholas

a time
of giving
of sharing
of connecting

think respect
act peace
feel love
breathe renewal

Floating on the Surface

2010-12-20T00:02:00.000-08:00

going through the motions
floating on the surface
of the week before Christmas

not getting into it
not finding center
numb like the old days

and wanting to eat
standing in the kitchen
staring at the shelves

what can I eat
honey looks good
popcorn looks good too

jeans are a bit snug...
I tell myself
the old days are out

floating on the surface
feeling numb
what is this about

why do I resist Christmas
why do I hold back
why am I so sad

what do I really want
too numb to know
think about it

what do I really want
family, closeness
meaning, spirituality

depth of soul...
not on the surface...
inside where it hurts

inside where the river flows
deep inside where
I dare to care

New Refrigerator!

2010-12-17T19:38:00.000-08:00

We had the local power company do an Energy Audit on our home in September. Interesting! Our results were mostly positive, except for one remaining single-pane window and our ancient refrigerator. A new, energy-efficient refrigerator, they told us, would pay for itself in 2-3 years in electric bill savings.

A window is on order, with installation scheduled for next week. And today, oh wonderful day, our new refrigerator was delivered!

How I can be so excited about a refrigerator to want to blog about it? I don't know. It's a simple thing... no ice maker or filtered water-spigot, single door. But it does have a bottom, pull-out drawer-type freezer, which means no more on-my-knees to get veggies, salad stuff and left-overs from the lower shelves, no more bumping my head on the upper freezer compartment when I've stooped and leaned inside to get things from the upper shelves. Here's a picture of our new baby! We got the brushed-stainless steel model.

It's so darn sensible to put the freezer on the bottom and make it a drawer!!!! I get into the cooler part at least 5 times a day, maybe 10. I only open the freezer part 1 or 2 times a day, often not at all. So doesn't it make sense to put the more often used part at standing height rather than stooping or kneeling height? You bet it does! The pull-out freezer drawer doesn't have as much storage space as our old unit, but it's really easy to see what's in there and to get stuff out.

My husband said we should put a big, red bow on it, because it's our Christmas present to ourselves. So I did. Very cute! Know what? I love our new refrigerator!

Epiphany about Step One

2010-12-13T02:33:00.000-08:00

OA Step 1:
We admitted we were
powerless over food -
that our lives
had become unmanageable.

I've had a little epiphany about step one in the past couple of days. Here's the thing. Back on April 17 when I went to my first OA meeting and began an abstinence program, I looked at Step 1 and said, "Yep, that's me... I am powerless over food and my life is unmanageable." I had no trouble with it, could not imagine a deeper truth about myself.

Now, however, I find that my mind's been playing a little trick on me. My subconscious mind made a slight alteration in the wording. Here's the version I accepted 7 months ago:

We admitted we were
powerless over binge foods -
that our lives
had become unmanageable.

See the difference?

I turned my binge foods over to a higher power. I gave up trying to control my eating of cookies, cake, ice cream, pastries, pie and candy. As I've written several times, a drastic change occurred, a miracle, an unimaginable blessing. I no longer crave these foods, nor have crazy voices in my head convincing me to have them, nor feel deprived at not having them.

But my other eating? Well, I guess my mind thought I could control that part of it. I could stick to a food plan of three modest meals a day and nothing in between meals. Not so. At first I did fairly well. Lately the kitchen and refrigerator are calling me, a taste of this, a nibble of that, sometimes a handful of nuts or a small slice of bread and butter, my plate piled high with food at mealtimes, eating it all even when I realize I'm full.

Who am I trying to kid? This is not following a food plan; this smacks of compulsive overeating. Oh, not like before.... not the whole box of cookies type of thing. But, when I return several times to the jar of nuts and have just a few more each time? That to my way of thinking is both compulsive and overeating.

back to
the first three steps
1 - admit I am powerless
over food
(all food, binge and otherwise)
yes, true
2 - accept that a higher power
can restore me to sanity
3 - turn my will over
(give the control to)
a higher power
yes, now

I thank my OA group, my sponsor, my walking partner and my husband for various insights that lead me to this improved understanding of my addiction and the process of recovery, especially as held in steps 1-3!

Deprivation Points

2010-12-10T23:55:00.000-08:00

Before OA, for eons and eons, I either binged or dieted, one or the other. Being a fairly active person and perhaps luckier than the average overeater, I never went over 240 pounds. Each time I got close to that number, a diet mentality clicked in and I'd begin Weight Watchers, South Beach, Atkins diet or one of the many others I tried.

With each diet, I'd immediately start racking up deprivation points. No cookie? One point! No seconds? One point! No bread? One point! Keeping a huge mental suitcase full of points was no problem at all.

When finally I reached some sort of goal weight, or at least went down a size or two, guess what? I'd start spending the points like crazy, the pounds reapplying themselves to my body in no time at all.

One of the blessings of OA, turning food over to a higher power, knowing it's not me anymore, is this: for the first time in my long weight loss history, I have no suitcase full of deprivation points. I'm not eating cookies, cake, candy and the like, not any at all. But the way I see it is that it's not me making the decisions about what I eat and what I don't eat. It's all in HP's hands. Thus, I don't do anything to earn points. There are no points to be spent later. And that's a good thing!

Fun in the Rain

2010-12-08T22:17:00.000-08:00

fun day with my husband
loving him today
and loving being with him
laughing
he can be so off the wall
with his humor
singing
reading to each other out loud
eating at a Mexican restaurant
eating a little too much
too many chips
they're so dang hard to resist
fun though
day-trip off-island
to the mainland
in his little red wheelbarrow
that's what he calls his pickup truck
it's almost as old as dirt
and small
and the windshield wipers
whack the outer dash
with every wipe
but no complaints
it works and it hauls stuff
like his motorcycle
to the mainland repair shop
our main reason for today's trip
rain, more rain, rain rain rain
good for trees
good for watershed
food for earth
fun in the rain
fun day with my husband

PJ's Million Dollar Question

2010-12-04T18:16:00.000-08:00

Since I didn't have a pressing subject anyway, today is a good time to respond to a recent tag by PJ. Here we go:

1. If you could live in another time period, which would you choose? The future? biblical times? 19th century? the 50's Whatever or whenever one you choose and why?If you need to answer with the thought you would still have your same family then do so.
I love our times and have never even considered what it might be like to live in other times. Other periods are interesting to read about or glimpse in movies.... However, to be honest, I'll stay right where I am, with pleasure!

2. What did you want to be 'when you you grew up' when you were a kid? Did you become that?
For a long time, from about age 5 to age 9, I wanted to be a ballet dancer. (See my post about how those hopes got dashed, here, and about a dance performance fiasco, here, and about dancing later in life, here.) So yes and no... not a ballet dancer, but I did dance for fun and for a few years was a dancer in and choreographer for a performing dance group.

Later, in 7th grade and up, I wanted to be a math teacher. Didn't do it. Couldn't get up in time for math classes in college, always scheduled for first or second period for some unknown reason. I tried, but my drinking and card playing at night took priority and so I majored in English and Psychology instead. I took some Education classes, thinking a maybe I'd be an English teacher. I couldn't stand the classes which seemed utterly inane to me and finished my BA with a straight English/Psy degree; went on and got a MA in Counseling Psychology. However, once again, fate brought me back to teaching in later years, not in a HS or college classroom as I had once thought, but in art workshops and conferences around the country. Way fun!!!! I think the counseling training helped me be a better teacher than the education classes would have.

3. If you won a million dollars (after taxes) what would you do?
Lordy, lordy, I have no idea. I have a close friend who won a large lottery. It so changed her life, more than anybody can imagine. One really significant change is that she went into hiding mode. She did not want people to be jealous of her and she felt shame at having gotten so much money, like she didn't deserve it. She and her husband gave a lot of it away. They also bought a very large, fancy home and quit working. After some years, they both felt lost, angry, useless, unworthy. Finally, the only answer seemed to be that they should go back to work, which they both did. Still, I'd have to say, she's not a very happy person. It seems almost that the money is a burden. I would not like to be in her shoes. In fact, I prefer a simple life and have no desire for a million dollars. If somebody gave it to me? Well, maybe I'd just tell 'em to keep it.

My husband and I saw a very interesting documentary movie that follows the lives of five lottery winners and what happens to them over time, Lucky, The Lottery Winner. We were fascinated!

4. What are you most afraid of and why?
On a personal level, it's cancer. Getting cancer or my husband getting cancer frightens me more than anything else. My grandmother, grandfather and mother all had cancer. Sometimes I feel doomed.

But on a more-important, non-personal level, I am most afraid of global warming and the decline of precious life forms on this earth. I hate the way we use it up. I hate that we keep adding to the human population. I wish every woman in the world would allow herself to give birth to one and only one child. In two generations, collectively, we could solve many of the earth's problems with this one simple act. Feeling this way for a very long time, it's the main reason why I never had children.

Thanks PJ, for giving me the opportunity to expound on these interesting questions. If anybody happens to read this and wants to answer the same questions, please do (and also please let me know so I can read your answers).

Reviewing Abstinence

2010-12-03T19:43:00.000-08:00

Hmmm, just noticed that today is my 64th day of abstinence in round three. That makes a non-cumulative total of over 200 days without a single bite of:

chocolate
cookies
cake
pastries
candy
pie
ice cream

By the way, that list is in order of my lust for each item, highest at the top. I like my program very much. I like it that I'm not trying to eliminate all sugar from my diet and that there are still a few treats available to me, like nuts, even glazed nuts in a salad, and crackers.

Truth is, I don't miss those things. They look good, if/when I see them, and they even smell good, sometimes, but I'm not really tempted by them. It's not a struggle and there's no inner dialog about whether or not I can or will or won't have them. This is an unbelievable switcheroo for me, a blessing beyond belief.

Currently, my much more simple food struggles involve portion control and snacking. I have good days, mostly, and a few not so good days in the portion control department. I tend to eat everything on my plate, whether or not I'm full, which tends to be a problem when eating out.

For example, tonight, my husband and I went out to dinner after our marriage counseling session, something we generally do, a neutral place to debrief and review the past 1.5 hours with our counselor. I ordered a three-piece chicken dinner that came with a baked potato and salad bar. After eating one piece of chicken, most of my potato and most of my salad, I noticed that my tummy was measuring satisfied on a scale of hungry to stuffed. I noticed, also that my husband was still eating his prime rib dinner. What is it? Competitive nature? I don't know, but I kept eating... finished the salad and potato and ate one more piece of chicken, at which point I'd have to put myself at full on the scale, maybe even quite full. Finally I quit eating. Yay!

Note to self for future: When you notice you're satisfied , pause for just two minutes. Enjoy the feeling of satisfaction. Notice how the tummy feels. Remember that you do not have to keep up with your husband. Take a deep breath. And THEN decide if you'll eat more. Yeah, yeah, I know... eating lesson 101. I just need to remind myself.

All-in-all, after 200+ days in OA and abstinence, I'm a new person.... happier, more in touch with my feelings, more respectful of myself (and others), much less despairing and resentful!

*****
PS. My husband just reminded me that he took home half his prime rib in a box!

The Question Is....

2010-11-29T23:36:00.000-08:00

A dear friend from the other side of the country sent me a beautiful card recently. Much more beautiful than the card is her support, her reminder that I'm finding my way one day at a time, and a quote she included by Eugene Ionesco:

It is not the answer
that enlightens,
but the
question.

Immediately I thought of a book I'd seen in one of those holiday catalogs, The Power of an Open Question, The Buddha's Path to Freedom, by Elizabeth Mattis-Namgyel. The description says:

Deep insight can result from
simply asking a difficult-to-resolve question --
whether the question is
ever satisfactorily "answered"
or not.

The author's intriguing premise is
that the very process
of questioning
can itself
teach us openness, wonder,
and the ability to live
in the present.

The coincidence here is too important to be ignored, so today I put the book on my "wish list" for my husband to get me for Christmas. Maybe I can't wait. Maybe I need to order it right now. Or, what if most of what I need is already in the title and description?

Ten Things List coming up! Ten unanswered questions in my life right now:

~~Shall I~~ ~~Do I want to~~ What might I feel if I don't send Christmas gifts to my family this year?

Are my jeans fitting tighter the past two weeks? (The answer to this one is easy... yes, darn it.

Am I cheating, nibbling too much, justifying larger portions than I really need, eating between meals? (The answer to this one is also easy... yes, darn it.)

What will I do about #2 and #3 above?

Why do I feel so lonely and blue? What am I hiding from myself?

I feel so much pressure all the time because of my self-imposed, exhausting to-do list. Why do I procrastinate rather than prioritize and do the stuff on the list?

When will I make a written to-do list rather than try to keep it all straight in my head?

When will I just say "no" to myself or others when I or they want me to do one more thing?

What 10 things am I most grateful for right now?

When will I get serious about walking and arm exercises... action rather than reaction!?

Well, that's pretty illuminating? Openness? Wonder? Not yet... more like beating myself on the head with a big rock. OK, guess I need the book. Obviously, there's a germ of truth about open questions and enlightenment. Yup, I can see that. Action seems to be the key!

More Thanks!

2010-11-25T16:51:00.000-08:00

Today, the officially designated day for thankfulness, is the easiest holiday for me. Even when it was all about food (either what I would eat or what I would not eat), the day was generally fun and easy. That's because I've always felt myself to be unusually blessed; and gratitude comes easily for me, flowing naturally like rain drops into almost all days of the year.

This year, added to all my other blessings, is the blessing of not being obsessed with eating, especially with consuming my binge foods. It is a miracle, pure and simple, one I never dreamed could happen in my life. For this amazing blessing, I thank:

Margaret Bullitt-Jonas, author of Holy Hunger

my dear, understanding, supportive husband

my OA group

Liz, my OA sponsor

Julie, another sponsor and dear sister-in-law

Liz and LL, bestest long-time friends

Christi, Lunnette, Christy, Leah

PJ, Anne, Karen, Jules, Cammy, Dees

Bobbi, Carol-Ann, Carol, Susan, Lois, Sabine

Blogger

the founders of AA

and

God

Thanks!

2010-11-24T02:44:00.000-08:00

6 years old
beguiling child
the unmistaken child
reincarnated lama
in training
for his role
as spiritual leader

* * * * * * *
temperature outside
still crazy low
for our neck of the woods
15 degrees last I looked

but the sun was out today
cold and warm at the same time
cold outside
warm inside with sunshine
pouring through windows

took up my beading
for the first time in many weeks
sunshine did it

feeling better today
call of the kitchen
not so strong
chicken soup for supper
black tea with milk and sweetner

our phone line is kaput
again
more snow and more wind
in the forcast
for Thanksgiving day

gratitude day
wait
what if every day
is gratitude day

movie tonight
Unmistaken Child
beautiful man
peaceful place
amazing true story

prayer of thankfulness
cold wind
eloquent movie
it's all good

Brrrr

2010-11-23T01:12:00.000-08:00

Fifteen degrees, wind howling, whipping the branches this way and that, blowing the snow into clouds that scud along the ground gathering size as they go, chilly even in the house with a wood stove fire blazing all day, I'm wrapped in a down comforter, woolly slippers, wool sweater and fleece vest... and still I'm feeling the brrrrr.

Oddly, more than personal confrontations, this vengeful show of nature's power has me wanting to eat. All day and all evening the kitchen has been calling my name. "Come here, my pet, you need something... maybe a few crackers? a few nuts? or perhaps a grilled cheese sandwich? what about popcorn?"

Entitlement thinking. I deserve to eat.

I went for a walk. Put full feeders out for the birds. I drank tea... and more tea. And still the kitchen calls.

Note to storm: You are a challenge, displaying your awesome force like this. You frighten me. I'm afraid the power will go out, a tree will fall on one of our buildings, the water pump will freeze, animals and birds will die; I'm nervous about chimney fires, cracked engine blocks, frozen pipes. Your noise scares me. I am naming my feelings rather than making popcorn.

I am entitled to my feelings; I deserve to feel.

Hanging In There...

2010-11-19T17:34:00.000-08:00

Eeeegad! Twelve days since I last posted. Lots has happened, yet I just haven't had the mojo or energy or desire to write about it.

A dear friend who follows this blog emailed, sending concerns. I responded, saying:

Despite the joy of not having sugar obsessions blaring in my consciousness every moment of the day (or possibly because of it), my emotions and thoughts are a bit confusing and extreme. My husband and I continue to work at our marriage, but have had a few set-backs lately. I don't seem able to do any beading, although I've been knitting and quilting a lot. I think it is mostly a matter of dealing with all of the emotions that surface at this time of year in some other way than overeating and binging. I've been thinking of writing a post trying to work with, or at least name, the emotions... a bit stuck there as well. Not to worry though, this will pass.

Her compassionate reply to the above indicates a remarkable depth of understanding and provides the impetus I needed to open this posting window. She also sent me the image of a little, porcelain bunny, the one you see above, giving me the title for this post. Yep, I'm hanging in there, ears back, stretched out, gripping firmly the lifeline of sobriety, just like the rabbit. What else can one do?

It feels a little daunting to face my emotions, to write about my feelings. Maybe a Ten Things List will do the trick? OK, then. Ten emotions that surfaced today:

Worry. I had three Dr. appointments at our local clinic today. One for little-toe bunions with a podiatrist who comes here once a month. One for a flu shot. One for an odd lesion on my left breast, a little red mole that turned red and got all scabby starting 9 days ago. I can build tragedy in my mind so easily. Worry. I worry and procrastinate, hoping it will go away. Turns out it was only a scratch (how that happened I have no idea) across the mole that got a little infected.
Fear. It's snowing a goodly amount right now, accumulating rapidly. When it snows like this, my car does not leave the garage. Lots of fodder for worry and fears here. How many days will it last? Will we have enough food? Will our pipes freeze? Will our water pump break as it has in past years? Will I miss the OA meeting tomorrow morning? Will our power go out from snow laden trees falling on power lines? (A calm, little voice is saying: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change...)
Joy. I decorated a wooden stick-tree with battery-run Christmas lights, twigs of fir and white ribbon bows as a display for selling beaded spirit dolls at the Farmers Market tomorrow. Probably won't make it because of the snow, but it gave me great joy to make the display and have it look so sweet.
Happy. Walking 2.2 miles this morning with my neighbor made me happy.
Despair. Looking at Christmas cards in town today lowered my spirits considerably. Do I want to send cards this year? Some years I've had fun making cards, sending them to a few special people. Most years my husband and I send cards with a brief newsletter. Many of our card and gift exchanges feel hollow, little more than a habit, following the path of expectations, meaningless.
Resentful. From thinking about cards and gifts, my thoughts drifted toward my husband. A few weeks ago, I suggested we volunteer to help with the community Thanksgiving dinner this year. He doesn't seem interested. I got a list of work assignments and read them to him. None of them appealed to him. Do they still need helpers? Should I go alone and leave him home to have a peanut butter sandwich for Thanksgiving dinner? I am procrastinating, not volunteering, not planning a meal for us either, feeling stuck and resentful.
Relieved. I'm glad I saw the Dr. about the lesion today and relieved to know it's a non-issue.
Sad. Last week I went to our annual Quilt Camp, four days of stitching and socializing with about 40 local women who quilt. Big bag of mixed feeling there, some good, some not so good. I don't make main stream quilts using the latest patterns and fabrics. The noise of sewing machines and constant chattering annoys me, so I find a spot in the corner to work. I'm shy, always have been, not much of a socializer, a loner. I tend to focus on working and getting my projects finished rather than on people. Part of me wants to be more like them and with them... sadness blankets me. I don't seem able to shake it.
Lonely. My three best women friends are unavailable to me right now because of work, travel or other activities.
Guilty. I'm behind on lots of things and not very focused about catching up. Procrastinating on both little and big things, the to do list grows ever longer and I feel more shame.

Well, that's a bag-o-feelings for the day. I feel good about naming them, revisiting them as an on-looker, detached a little from the experience of them. They're not so bothersome in a Ten Things List as they are in my mind. How cool is that!

Changing Up the Holidays

2010-11-07T12:08:00.000-08:00

Dark Thoughts Pointing at Christmas

I am darkness
looking at Christmas,
pointing dark thoughts
at Christmas,
especially at all the hype,
the production
and the requirements
at this time of year.
I am supposed to be happy,
merry and bright.
But I am not.
I am darkness.

I want to change.
I want to hear
the sweet songs
of the Christmas birds.
Where is my big heart
at Christmas?
Follow the birds.

* -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- *

The above beading and my poem from 2007 tell my holiday story for many decades, how upside down it all was and how dark, all the way back to my 30s, possibly even my school years. The child got completely lost in the sauce.

As the poem suggests, every year I attributed holiday blues and bah-humbugism to things outside of my self, blaming the world for my unhappiness because of:

rampant commercialism
the way society pushes its traditions on us
not being good at the whole gift giving thing
lack of spiritual foundation
pessimism about world peace
seasonal affective disorder
not having any children through whose eyes I might experience the so-called magic of Christmas
my family being geographically scattered

Today I'm here to acknowledge something different, to state the one, encompassing mother-reason for dark thoughts pointing at the entire holiday season starting with Halloween and marching right through Valentine's Day. To day I'm here to admit the one word that sums it all up:

B I N G E

If I was not in diet mode, then I dreaded the holiday season, knowing I would

embarrass myself taking cookie after cookie, bar after bar, pie after pie, stuffed mushroom after stuffed mushroom at whatever party, dinner, event, restaurant I was at
stuff myself repeatedly until I was way beyond uncomfortable
buy every imaginable treat, bring it into my home and rapidly consume it
binge on sugar both publicly and privately
probably gain at least 10 pounds, perhaps 20, in five months of celebrating the holidays
eat rather than talk at social events
harbor deep resentment against my sugar-craving body
experience self-loathing and disgust

If I was in diet mode, then I dreaded the holiday season, knowing I would

be deprived of sweets, craving them, dwelling on them, feeling angry every time I had to pass on available sweets, feeling equally angry every time I "cheated"
figure out how to have as much fruit cake, pie, chocolate, Christmas cookies, etc. as possible, how to cut the healthy foods way back so I could binge without gaining weight
face the fact that I'd probably blow my diet, possibly gain back all the pounds I'd lost
avoid social situations because of deprivation or the possibility of blowing my diet
experience deep resentment against my body
ridicule and blame my body for being fat, for preventing me from eating all the treats I want

All-in-all, five months of being a super unhappy person, driven by addiction to a state of perpetual anger, resentment, angst and despair. No wonder dark thoughts pointed at Christmas!

* -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- * -_- *

Change! Ah-ha! Ho-ho! Change is here! Super, big-time, hallelujah change! Binging is simply not an option any more. It's not about trying to figure out how to cheat my diet any more; nor is it about flat-out gobble it all down. Been there; done both. I am abstinent now. Period!

Gradually, the call of the cookie, the whisper of the pie, the siren song of candy has faded. I don't dwell on or crave these things any more. I rarely think about them at all. And I don't feel deprived.

What does that mean as I look ahead toward Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day? It means I have a clean slate! I can re-invent the holidays and look for things to do that will be meaningful or fun. Unlike all years past, where obsession with food and sweets overshadowed everything else, this year I can focus on what is really important!

I feel giddy with excitement about it!

At the same time, I'm fully aware of how shaky sobriety is, about how it's one day at a time with the help of my higher power and fellowship of others who have known what it's like to binge for five months straight, about how feeling my feelings is still very much a learning process.

Shakiness aside, my optimism and child-like wonder at this time of new-beginnings is like the unfolding petals of the sweetest rose imaginable!

Dealing with Disappointment and Grief

2010-11-03T19:43:00.000-07:00

How do I deal with disappointment and grief? Used to be I ate my way through it, cookie after cookie, chocolate after chocolate.

I have a very vague memory of when the pattern started. When my biological father died just before I turned five and my mother immediately decided to return to college, my brother and I were dispatched to live with our grandparents for two years. In my family, crying was definitely not OK. Daddy and Mommy were gone, but I was not to cry. One time at the breakfast table, when I started to cry, my grandmother tried to make it all better by pouring syrup on my waffle, noting that she was filling every hole. I actually recall looking at that delicious-smelling, thick, rich maple syrup, my tears evaporating as she filled all the holes with it.

How poignant! Filling every hole, indeed! Not filling any of the deep holes in little me, crying in disappointment or grief or loneliness. Yet, hmmm, she's paying attention to me, giving me something to fix my woes, sugar pops into my mouth bite after bite and guess what? I start to feel better. I learn that sugar fills my holes. NOT!

Indeed, she didn't know any better and I unconditionally forgive her. Yet, there began a life-time pattern of trying to fill grief holes with sugar. My OA sponsor says this is very common with women who overeat. She believes, when doing Step 4 (listing defects of character), that more of women's defects stem from grief than from resentment, which is common for men. She encourages me to look at how I've handled grief and disappointment in my life, at how pacifying with eating sugar may negatively affect my character and behaviours.

OK, I was 5 or so when the syrup incident happened and 67 when I stopped eating sugar as a solution. So for 62 years, I more or less unknowingly smothered my grief in sugar consumption. That's a long time.

What happens when I eat a lot of sugar is that I get cranky, really nasty sometimes. I can recall yelling at my parents, at my siblings, at girlfriends, at boyfriends, at co-workers and often at my poor husband after overdosing on sugar. Lots of mean spirited yelling over trivial things.

Interesting, isn't it, that this character defect, the yelling, is an indirect result of not dealing directly with grief and disappointment. I've doubtless harmed others, at least harmed my relationships with them, with my angry yelling, never even considering for a moment that the basis might be my own unexpressed grief rather than something they did to cause me irritation.

For the past seven months sugar has not been an option. Did I have disappointments and grief during that time? Yes. And I note that the anger response is still in me, even without the sugar to trigger mood swings. It's habitual. I need to change this. Awareness is the first step. Notice grief. Notice disappointment. Name it. Sit with it. When anger wells up in me, ask myself, what is making me feel sad.

Not OK to be on the pity pot? Nope, it's not. Yet, unfortunate, unplanned, unwanted, sad things happen. I must learn to recognize and allow grief into my life, and not just the big things like death of a loved one or pet, but also the day-to-day disappointments, even the ones that seem trivial. Not pity pot, but to be mindful of sadness, that is my journey now.

Tools of Recovery

2010-11-02T19:18:00.000-07:00

Overeaters Anonymous, a program of recovery based on and very much like Alcoholics Anonymous, is deeper than I thought at first, offering a wide range of possibilities for change and healing, proven to work for many individuals. I stumbled into OA through reading Holy Hunger by Margaret Bullitt-Jonas, an amazingly honest and thorough exploration of her personal experiences with binging, purging, dieting, emotion-evading and all the crazy voices in her head which provided every excuse for continuing to eat compulsively.

Although I've never purged, all the rest, the angst, the yo-yo dieting, the binging and obsession with food, the voices, all as she described in her book were exactly as I've experienced for 60 years of my life. It is as if she wrote my story, not hers.

Her story and her book offer an addict, like me, great hope because she turned to OA, admitting her disease and her powerlessness. In accepting her weakness, accepting the support and fellowship of other OA members, accepting the help of a power greater than herself, she turned herself around and was able to stop eating compulsively, stop binging, stop feeling crazy, reach a desirable, healthy weight for her size and remain at that weight without the relentless struggle of dieting.

The biggest benefit, for me, is to stop feeling crazy. It really makes me feel crazy knowing absolutely, without a doubt, that eating a dozen cookies at a time is not a healthy thing to do, knowing that if I eat one, I'll continue eating them until they're gone, and yet I do it. More than the weight, more than the embarrassment about my food habits, more than high cholesterol and other health problems directly related to my eating, much more than all that, I hated the feeling of being crazy and my inability to resist the slightest temptation.

OA teaches us that this is not a motivation or will-power problem. This is a disease, a progressive disease, one that can not be cured with will-power, a diet, a pill, a stay in the hospital or surgery. Yet, it is not hopeless, as once I had thought.

The way I interpret OA, to arrest the symptoms of the disease, two parallel pathways must be followed. The first is to use the tools of OA to stop compulsive overeating. The other is to work the 12 Steps of OA (and AA) to gain a spiritual foundation for change. Tonight I want to write a little more about the tools and about how I am using them at present.

There are eight tools of recovery, as follows:

1. Food plan. Since I definitely suffer the binge syndrome of overeating, where I've been known to eat a whole box of cookies, a whole bag of candy or a whole pint of ice cream in one sitting, the first part of my food plan is to identify and eliminate these foods from my diet completely.

"Why can't I be like other people? Why can't I eat just two cookies or half a piece of chocolate cake?" I don't know the answer, really. It's part of the disease. The important point is not why, but just that not being able to resist or stop is a fact for me. There is no half-way. I ask myself, "Do I want to be abstinent on my binge foods today, just for today?" So far, the answer is "yes."

Other than two slips, I have not eaten any of my binge foods (candy, cake, cookies, pie, ice cream, pastries) since April 17th, which is 199 days!

Just today, in a coffee shop with a fellow OA member, I briefly noticed a huge display of tasty-looking and delicious-smelling assortment of muffins, rolls, sweet breads, cookies and cakes. In the past, I would have been obsessed with looking at them and selecting which one or ones I would eat or equally obsessed with not being able to eat them because of dieting. Today, I noticed them in passing, got my coffee, and thought no more about them until writing a description of them here.

My point? The obsessive compulsion about sweet things is gone! I attribute this delightful change to a food plan of abstaining from eating my particular binge foods. Another benefit? Well, for once, I don't dread the soon-upon-us holiday season, the time of year previously known for stuffing myself with every imaginable treat and gaining 10 to 20 pounds in three months.

The other part of my food plan is simply to eat three meals per day and nothing between meals. I don't pay much attention to what I eat, although "healthy choices" are ingrained after years of dieting. Not eating between meals is definitely a challenge, one I struggle with, particularly during meal preparation. Sometimes I stay with the plan; sometimes I don't. I do the best I can.

Although, because of a previously negative relationship to the scale, I do not weigh myself, I have lost weight, going from a snug size 18 jeans to a comfortable size 12 in the seven months I've been practicing my OA food plan.

2. Sponsorship. I am fortunate to have two sponsors.

One is my sister-in-law, who is 16 years sober in AA. She is an invaluable mentor, guide and support! Talking on the phone and emailing several times a week, she helps me to accept both my success and my failures, to understand the program, and most of all to have patience with it.

My other sponsor is a long-time member of my OA group. A spiritual guide, she is helping me to understand the 12 step program, to face myself and my disease with honesty and to seek help with this journey. I see her at meetings and meet with her one-on-one as needed. Right now, I'm fairly self-motivated, yet I feel her support and am grateful to know when I need her, she'll be there for me.

3. Meetings. I've written about our meetings fairly often, about how they're invaluable to me in this process of recovery. We are united in our weakness and in our commitment to recovery. We share our process and our inspiration to the benefit of all. What if, for some reason, there were no OA meetings where I live? Having experienced the understanding and fellowship of meetings, I would go instead to AA meetings or I would join an on-line, live-participation OA meeting. I am certain meeting are a significant tool in my recovery.

4. Telephone. This is a tool I haven't used very much as I'm not very fond of talking on the phone. Yet, I understand the importance of resisting isolation in recovery. I guess blogging (writing and reading) and emailing are forms of communication like the telephone, yet not so immediate. I shall consider using the telephone a bit more.

5. Writing. Of course this blog is all about writing my feelings, thoughts, process. I love writing here, reading other recovery blogs and the exchange, inspiration and support that happens between us, almost as if we are all meeting together. It's magic for me!

I must also write privately as I work the 12 steps. Here is another area where I'm dragging my feet at the moment. Time to call my sponsor and get some help.

6. Literature. Over the years, AA and OA have amassed a vast library of literature relevant to recovery. There are stories, history, workbooks and guides. I've read and been inspired by several of these, the most recent being The Big Book itself, the fourth edition of the original Alcohol Anonymous book, written by the founders of the program. Quite an unexpected treat, this book both instructs and inspires me, helping me to better understand the concept of alcoholism or compulsive overeating as a disease. I'm currently reading an OA workbook designed to help participants work through the 12 steps.

7. Anonymity. I respect the concept of anonymity in OA. It gives me power to be honest with myself and others. For this reason, I do not use my name or anybody's real name in this blog.

8. Service. Although I have taken responsibility for the meeting-room key, until today, I had not offered my service to anybody else suffering from overeating, at least not directly. Perhaps indirectly, as a result of reading my blog or talking with me about what it's like to suffer the disease of compulsive overeating, I may have been of some slight service to others. However, today I offered to be a food sponsor (as opposed to step sponsor, which by my own standards, I am not yet qualified to do) to another OA member. I don't know where this will lead or how it will be for her. But, I can say that for me, it feels like a good thing, a pathway that can only lead to greater learning and healing, hopefully for both of us.

So this is a summary of the tools and where I am with them in the OA program at this time. My gratitude for having learned of OA and for all the assistance I've received to date is boundless.

Building Self Confidence

2010-10-31T23:37:00.000-07:00

The above is my tribute to Halloween night, when witches boil their brew, its bubbling sulfurous stench a warning to all who might venture near... Actually it's a picture I took on my recent road trip, a hot springs in Yellowstone, which didn't smell all that bad, thanks to a slight breeze blowing away from me.

Looking at it tonight reminds me of the day of departure, of feeling a little daunted, a little frightened even, about the prospect of the long drive ahead, of the many little decisions I would need to make, where to stay, which route to take, when to stop. Not consulting anybody else, taking into account only my own wishes, experiencing such solitude of being and arriving safely back home again after 4,000+ miles gave me a wonderful boost of self confidence, hopefully a dose that will last for some time to come!

Serenity

2010-10-30T13:11:00.000-07:00

I don't know what I'm going to write today. It's not planned, yet it must have something to do with serenity, because I thought of the above picture, taken the day nobody showed up at our Saturday morning OA meeting, taken outside the AA meeting building, where someone had carefully nested this three-inch treasure in the moss at the edge of a little planted area near the door. I was compelled to find the picture and put it at the beginning of this post.

Who did that, I wonder? The artist in me wants to know if the base is a rock, solid and silent, under a thick coating of gesso or if perhaps the whole thing is made with clay. The child in me loves the little snails oozing their way slowly, ever so slowly, across the stone. The seeker in me loves the word serenity, craving a place where my mind can be like that, totally at peace, where time stands still, where colors blend into harmonic tones. The elder in me loves the essence of it, the thought behind its creation and position in time and space, spirals of snail shells winding both inward and outward, tiny baby steps represented by snails, innocence of white, inevitable growth symbolized in the vines, all these things culminating in serenity.

So how do we know serenity? Where do we find it? Once experienced, how do we keep it from evaporating as our busy minds create heat from friction of daily concerns. Surely the spiritual practice of meditation must allow an entry to serenity. Baby steps. At our weekly OA meeting we say the serenity prayer in unison:

God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can
and wisdom to know the difference.

In those brief moments, I feel my shoulders drop and my breathing slow. A sense of well-being comes over me, and I'm ever so slightly more optimistic than when I arrived at the meeting. I still don't know anything, don't have any answers, but in the moment of saying this prayer, I am more open to whispers from the universe, less needful of control. Fleeting? Yes, but with each meeting, each week of fellowship, serenity cloaks me a nanosecond longer.

Feels Like I'm Dog-paddlin'...

2010-10-28T13:11:00.000-07:00

don't like the pity pot
really don't
so...
trying to stay positive
trying to count blessings
trying to stay focused
trying to keep swimmin'
forward

little tyke in the picture
a lion cub
at the Smithsonian Zoo
got put in the moat
to see if he could swim
a test by his keepers
to see if it's safe
to let him be
with his mommy

he's doin' it
look at that sweet face
a little frightened maybe?
yet his nose is definitely
above water

me too
my nose above water
dog-paddlin'
across the moat
in the dark of the year

don't know what I'll find
on the other side
or how long it will take
to get there

Hard Copy, Soft Bound...

2010-10-27T20:36:00.000-07:00

I used Blog2Print to make a book of my first 95 posts on this blog. Easy-peasy! 116 pages, chose the black/white cheaper version, selected black for the cover with my blog header painting for the image. Twenty something dollars, including free shipping. Not bad! Arrived yesterday (much faster than promised) and actually looks really good!

Two regrets, two things I'd do differently if I decide to do it again... I'd use reverse chronological order, starting with post number one and progressing to the most recent post at the end of the book. I thought it would be good the other way, but reversed my decision as I started to read through the book.

The other thing is that I'd pay more attention to the front and back cover photos. (1) There's a little box under the photo where you can over-type their instruction to title the photo. I'd delete their words but leave the window blank as the title looks goofy. (2) I'd make certain the photos I upload from my files are high resolution, not the ones that work fine on the blog but look all pixelated and stupid on the cover of the book.

Oh, and I might also delete a few posts from the book, particularly the ones with lots of pictures. Blog2Print formats everything just the way it appears on the blog (text size, font, text alignment, bold, italics, etc.) EXCEPT placement of photos. Two of my posts have a bunch of photos with a few lines of text under each photo. The book ended up having the text lines all bunched up and the photos at the end with no accompanying text.

I chose black and white, because this blog isn't about color or photos and because it's MUCH less expensive. But still looks good. The color photos in the various posts just show up as black and white. They look fine that way, especially since it's not about art here.

I chose not to include the comments. Maybe I'll regret that decision because many of the comments are soooooooooooo great, helpful, inspirational, funny, nurturing... dunno... we'll see.

As I said, it's really easy to do the book on the Blog2Print website. You just check your platform (Blogger, WordPress or TypePad), tell it the range of dates you want included in your book, and then tell it to upload. At that point, if I remember correctly, you can actually "see" and "read" your book. Then you get some editing options... like cover color/design, uploading cover photos, whether or not to include comments, how to order the posts. Not a lot of editing possibilities, which keeps it simple.

All in all, I'm satisfied and will do it again. Nice to have it in print... like a journal...

Be Patient

2010-10-18T22:19:00.000-07:00

Once again, Jules (Big Girl Bombshell) soundly struck a chord in me. The title of her post, Serene Silence... Stopping the Pursuit, offers profound wisdom in just five words. Somehow knowing that my pursuit of answers, especially concerning my marriage, feels like an endless and pointless chase, I crave serene silence of my mind.

Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart.
Try to love the questions themselves.
Do not now seek the answers
which cannot be given you
because you would not be able to live them now.
And the point is to live everything.
Live the questions now.
Perhaps, you will then gradually without noticing it,
live along some distant day into the answer.
-- Rainer Maria Rilke

Isn't Jules saying the same thing as Rilke in the above poem? Love the question. Live the question now. How can I do that? Live everything. That I understand a little better; that maybe I can do. Patient? I was not so patient today. I wanted resolution. I wanted the decision about staying or not staying in my marriage to be made.

Chewing the inside of my lips, being tempted by all kinds of baked goods and candy, feeling resentful that I can't use these substances to numb my fretting mind, self-pity close to the surface and ugly even to my eyes, I plowed through the day as if on a tractor constantly bogging down in mud and driving rain. How sweet to finally come in from the rain, to stop the pursuit, even if just for the moments of this writing! Be patient, says Rilke. Yes, I say, and live everything!

Soothing Myself...

2010-10-17T00:16:00.000-07:00

nobody there for our OA meeting
this morning
nobody but me
room dark and locked

feeling sad about that
looking forward to the fellowship
and wanting to talk
wanting to tell them
about listening to the big book
about struggles
with sticking to my food plan
about how I missed them
the past three weeks

our marriage counselor
told us we both need to learn
how to soothe ourselves

used to be easy
easy as a couple of cookies,
a piece of cheesecake,
a nice sweet treat

so I'm standing by myself
on the sidewalk
near the AA/OA meeting room
asking myself
how
how can I soothe myself

POP!
into my mind pops the thought
I could call my quilting friend
invite myself to her house
for a knitting/stitching bee

hot tea
a big hug
sympathy and understanding
then we settle down
she stitching
me knitting

and later for lunch
we make a concoction
with canned pumpkin
pumpkin pie spices
plain yogurt
a little brown sugar
and pecans
comfort food
comfort companion
comfort activity

ah, life is much better now!

Where Is Home?

2010-10-15T10:32:00.000-07:00

Recently, Jules, Big Girl Bombshell, wrote an excellent post about the spiritual element of health and weight loss (here), which inspired me to write the following:

Mind * Body * Spirit
and of these
we try so diligently
to make it
all about the mind
all about mind control

I agree with you, Jules
the spirit part
sleeps
while we struggle
with our minds

like you, I want
to write about faith
to uncover spirit
for without it
my body and mind
are empty

I am home now, home from 4,046 miles of solo driving, across five big states and back again. Home? Where is home? Was I home in Minnesota, the land where I grew up, the place where most of my small family still lives, my mother, two brothers, two nieces, a nephew and a grand nephew, a place where just two weeks ago I felt comfortable, accepted, totally loved?

It's almost weird being back on the island, in my own home with my husband, who couldn't say he missed me, who doesn't like so many things about me, where sometimes, I tip-toe around in fear of displeasing him. Can this be home?

What can I change? How can I make this place where I live feel like home. Doesn't it seem the answer lies in the realm of the spirit, in opening my heart? Closing to my husband over the years, no matter the why of it, feeling open in Minnesota, feeling closed again now, my heart aches.

Road Trip Pictures ~ Giants

2010-10-14T23:52:00.001-07:00

Since my original intent regarding this blog was to keep it centered on recovery, not about attracting readers, not about pictures, tutorials, awards or giveaways, I'm feeling a little conflicted about posting pictures from my recent solo road trip. On the other hand, who would want to see them if not the few who have followed my quest, my journey of 4,046 miles, here on this blog?

At least I must post pictures of the wind turbines, my new lovers, the giants who bewitched me as I drove both east and west. So here they are, along with a few pictures of the oil drilling business, also mentioned in my posts here and here. All pictures are click-to-enlarge.

giants in the dawn, first day on the road
Washington state, East of Ellensburg
see the car?

each giant stands 351 feet tall
and weighs 223 tons
rotor blades, I call them wings,
are 129 feet long
and weigh 7 tons each

hauling a wing
me chasing, stalking
lead and follow cars
wondering about me
passing them
lurking at the next town
waiting for another photo op

24-wheel trailer!
would you say
this tower is big and heavy?
base is 13 feet wide
compare to size of red truck

as big as a building

old-time oil rigs
reminding me of birds pecking
in horse pastures and farms
scattered across northeastern Montanna

new oil developments
building rigs like these
black, noisy and
nearly as high as wind turbines
laying pipes
employment boom
hotels and motels
all display no vacancy signs

heading east from Shelby, Mt
going to work
there's oil to be drilled

more oil fellas
going to work

nearly all the cars
at the motel
looked like this
oil workers
looked like this too
motel posted a sign on the door
"take off your boots
before entering"

miles and miles
of pipelines
being laid
farms and oil wells

ah, the beauty
and nearly silent whisper
of wind turbines
dawn patrol
this time near
Cut Bank Montanna

walking among them
filling me
with joy and wonder

newer designs
turn more slowly
safer for birds

breakfast at
Hwy 2 Cafe
Cut Bank, MT
my favorite
restaurant meal
huckleberries
on hot cake
no syrup needed
bacon crisp

antique plate collection
all around the room
chalk drawing
of my beloveds

Road Trip Report ~ I'm in LOVE!!!!

2010-10-09T19:02:00.000-07:00

time on my hands
don't feel like reading
or knitting
or beading

solitude of being
produces much thought
so two posts today

I'm in love
with many lovers
all of them giants
all of them majestic
all of them powerful

in early morning light
I walked among them
their sweet voices
whispering love songs
their arms outstretched
dancing in circles

enchanted and in awe
filled with gratitude
under their spell
I took picture after picture
could not stop
could not get my fill of them

there on a dirt track
through the rolling hills
of middle Montana
just west of Shelby
there I fell in love
(as though I weren't already)
with the wind giants
immensely tall
white
slowly turning
wind turbines
generating power

much later
after tearing myself
away from my lovers
I ate breakfast
at the Hwy 2 Cafe
a charming little place
with a vast collection
of antique plates
on the walls
also pastel drawings
one of them
depicting my lovers

taking a picture
of the drawing
generated a discussion
with three old timers
having breakfast
at a nearby table
one of them is 101 years old
and still quite spry

I love these wind machines,
I tell them
yes, they say

I tell them I wish
for money to invest
in the company
that manufactures them

NO
says one of them
emphatically
too expensive
much too expensive
hydro's the thing
invest in hydro

yes, I say
the infra-structure's expensive
but after that
wind is free
and there's no harm
to the environment
(maybe to a few birds
maybe not)

hydro, he says firmly

his buddy says
he's a retired commissioner
of the local hydro-electric company

well then
he knows a thing or two
about power

never-the-less, I say
wind is everywhere
wind is the future of power
and dagnabitall
I'm in love with the giants

****

Sorry I don't have a way to download my pictures while on the road... so for now it's just word pictures... but never fear, once home, I'll select some to post. Question: better to insert them in the previous posts at relevant points OR better to put them all in a new post???

Two Rings

2010-10-09T17:23:00.000-07:00

I'm wearing two rings
on a chain around my neck
two gold rings
each with this inscription inside

FEA & EFC
august 3, 1949

one is my mother's wedding ring
the other is my dad's

when Dad died
four years ago
Mom wore his ring
as I am now
on a golden chain
around her neck

confused
thinking he is still alive
and married to one of her nurses
she decides
not to wear either ring

my sister in law had them
and offered one to me

no, I said
these rings should stay together

she said I could have them both

is it right?
should I keep them?
I don't know the answer
about should or shouldn't

they mean a lot to me

touching them often
thinking about marriage
thinking about
how compatible my parents were
aware that it's a rare thing
aware of the times
when my husband and I
enjoy that type of togetherness

how did my parents
deal with their differences
the moments when respect fell away
the times when their paths parted
for surely they felt gravel underfoot
just as we do

I wear these rings
touching them often
hoping to find a way
to remain in my marriage

Road Trip Report from Shelby, MT

2010-10-08T17:28:00.000-07:00

first move of the day
turned the wrong way
from the motel
and drove about 30 miles
back the way I'd come
the day before

ooooops!
I'm not supposed to
be driving into the sun
in the morning...
that's the evening's bane

then I started getting bored
and hungry
yep
the old eat from boredom syndrome

walked past greasy, personal pizzas
at a gas station hot "food" counter
had to have it
not healthy
but not on my abstinence list
been thinking about pizza
but this isn't good pizza
but I'm hungry
ok, ok, ok
ate it in my car
while driving
not mindfully
burp
ugh
darn

old highway church
with Native graveyard in back
old, old graves
and some new ones
very primitive
wooden crosses
humped dirt
plastic flowers
feeling a little sad
and lonely there
trucks and cars passing
their drivers giving no thought
to the souls resting there
just above the highway

the big pink church
farther along the way
once Catholic
now abandoned
today with a huge crowd
gathered in the Native graveyard
next to the church
more than 100 cars
parked along the highway
and the little road to the church
I stopped
but didn't want to intrude
later I inquired at a
Native-run visitor center
in the next town
a tribal elder
an original land owner
a woman respected by all
92 years old
had died
was being laid to rest

respect for elders
what a wonderful concept

for the rest of the afternoon
I played cat and mouse
with some wide-load trucks
pulling 16-wheel
flat bed trailers
hauling parts for wind turbines

unbelievable
huge
gigantic
dwarfing
all other vehicles
on the highway
I'd pass them
drive ahead
pull off the road
get out of my car
camera in hand
and try to
take pictures of them
as they went by

then I'd do it again
being dissatisfied
with my pictures

tomorrow
the mountains
whoooopeeeee
Glacier National Park

tomorrow
another day
another opportunity
to make healthy food choices
to not eat in my car
to eat mindfully
whoooooopeeeee

Strange Day on the Road

2010-10-07T15:22:00.000-07:00

lovely start
a few miles west
impulsively
took turn off
for Turtle River State Park

beautiful, quiet place
nobody there
no campers

soft morning light
on the rushes
surrounding a little lake
flocks of Canadian geese
flying low in formation
and landing
perfectly

sunning themselves
pristine

red sumac
along the road
picture perfect
didn't want to leave

talked with Park Ranger
soon they'll close the park
for the winter
only a few stragglers now
none last night

he tells me some boy scouts
are coming for the day
he'll teach them
the ecology of the place

I ask him about wind
which he says is fierce
especially in winter and spring

I ask him about wind generators
he says it's growing in the state
but not self-sustaining yet
supported by a wind-power sur-charge
on electric bills
(later I am awed
seeing a whole ridge
rimmed with white giants
turning slowly
collecting the power of wind)

oil's the thing he says
in fact if I'm headed west
which I am
he says I may not find
a place for the night

all hotels and motels
are filled by oil rig workers
and pipe line builders

I make calls at the next town
he's right
none of the less expensive places
have a vacancy

I make a reservation at a place
that's way over my budget
taking the last available room
glad for his warning
glad to know
I won't have to sleep in my car

the day drones on
a little boring
although I'm listening to
The Big Book
(Alcoholics Anonymous)
on my CD player

I am surprised how much
I learn
how much I like this book
how much sense it makes

although written in 1935
it feels very current
maybe it's because
truth is not bound by time

it holds my interest
relevant to my past as a drinker
my whole life as an overeater
and my recent recovery process

I had a bad fall today
walking around the side
of a gas station
unseen
a deep divot in the road
caught my foot
sending me reeling
and tumbling
onto the pavement

makes me think of Mom
of how often she fell
in her later years
and how each fall
cost her dearly

a little lunch
at the Frontier Cafe
and two aleeve
helped with the aches

after that
came the oil rigs
big, tall, powerful, mean-looking
oil rigs
and the more standard types
little ducks
bobbing their yellow heads

farms
farmers plowing their fields
farmers cutting and bailing
the grass
dairy cows and salt licks

and right next to them
another oil rig
or a ditch ready for pipes
to be laid

oil and farm
oil rig workers
and farmers

is there conflict
how could there not
be hard feelings

the noise
dirt
heavy trucks
the rigs dominating
the horizons
wouldn't the farmers
resent them

beauty, peace and recovery
in the morning
gradually shifting
to disrupted nature and conflict
as I traveled westward

On the Road Again....

2010-10-06T17:46:00.000-07:00

yep
on the road again
solitude of being

driving west
this time not on the freeway
slowing down
way down
for small towns
and farm equipment on the roads
pulling over
to view a grove of birch
white bark gleaming and
yellow leaves twittering
in the magnificent sunlight
stopping at little visitor centers
asking
is there anything I should see
in these parts

hard to say goodby
sad to leave Mom's room
blowing her kisses
her sweet little stuffed kitty
clutched firmly in her arms

my brother asked me to stay
said they'd love to have me
through the weekend
when they'd be off work
and we'd have time to play

but solitude of being
was calling me
the call stronger
than the desire
to stay longer
in the warmth
of my extended family

pausing for a moment
indecision
on the fence
stay or go

then I knew it was time
time to get in the car again
and head west

Working the Steps

2010-10-03T08:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to an AA meeting with my brother and sister-in-law. Half my life ago, I quit drinking, a ~~habit~~ compulsion that got me into a lot of trouble during my 20s and 30s; but I never went to an AA meeting, just quit cold turkey one day. Surprisingly it wasn't very difficult to quit. Guess I'd had my fill of the repercussions of excess alcohol, plus I had my real addiction, food, still firmly in place. Good, reliable food, easy to hide, perfectly legal and socially acceptable.

Yet, for others it's clear that alcohol is their primary addiction and for them maintaining sobriety must be a huge challenge. My brother, bless his heart, has been clean and sober for 17 years. And at yesterday's meeting my SIL was awarded her 16-year sobriety pin. Everyone there spoke very highly of her, saying how much they admire and are inspired by her honesty. How great it was to be there, filled with respect for both of them!

Once a person has been sober for a while, feeling whole and sane again, not gripped by the need to drink, their life back on track, it must be easy to slip out of the program. Yesterday's meeting, however, was filled with long-time-sober folks who are working the steps, dealing with character issues that lead them into alcohol addiction, issues that still affect their lives and are always a threat to sobriety. The meeting topic was Step 6, We're entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

Ten thoughts I had while listening to others talk:

Defects of character sounds so horrible, yet I know I have them and can name a number of them.
Listing my defects of character happens in step 4, which is where I am at the moment in the OA program .
How can God remove them? Why would God remove them?
Would I be a genuine, whole person without them?
I want to fix it myself. I want to identify and then remove my character defects all by myself, no help needed, thank you. I can do this. I think I can, I think I can.
But I couldn't stop overeating by myself. That is a fact, proven over and over.
I'd be more accepting of step 6 if it were worded differently, if it said, We're entirely ready to have God help us remove all these defects of character, leaving us somewhat in control of our own destiny.
To turn it all over to God? Well, that's a concept I resist.
Not there yet, I'm only working step 4. Maybe by the time I get to step 6, the concept will have grown on me.
My will be done/Thy will be done.... that is the conflict.

What came to me in the meeting as a certainty is that following a food plan and remaining abstinent from my binge foods is just the tip of the ice berg. Yes, I feel much more sane. Yes, I feel more peaceful and less resentful since I began working the program six months ago. Yes, I've lost weight, am more healthy and more fit. Yes, yes, yes!

Yet, like the alcoholic, my underlying character, my unresolved issues, my lack of faith threaten to undermine progress and send me back to food for solace. I accept the challenge, with a nod to my brother, SIL and other participants in yesterday's meeting, of working the AA/OA steps as best I can, with the realization pointed out by my SIL yesterday that I can work the same steps over and over, each time learning something new, each time finding new levels of peace.

A Traveler's Food Choices

2010-10-01T07:01:00.001-07:00

a traveler's food choices

often in restaurants

and in my case

in family homes

are certainly more challenging

than when safely in one's own home

yesterday I picked up rolls

at a scrumptious bakery

as my contribution to dinner

samples

omg! samples!

long one of my greatest downfalls

some sort of cinnamon-swirl goodie

and something with frosting and nuts

didn't think

forgot about my food plan

entirely

I'll try a sample of that one, I said

carried it to my car

along with the rolls I purchased

seat-belted myself

and took a big chomp

ooooops, this is sweet

ooooops, frosting

ooooops, this thing isn't a bread sample

shall I finish eating it?

I'm in my car eating it

knowing it's technically an abstinence food

knowing I don't eat in my car anymore

knowing I'm eating between meals

which also I don't do anymore

did I spit it out? no

did I throw the other two bites out? no

did I eat them

even though I knew it was

in violation of both my

food plan and abstinence list?

yes

I'm sorry to say, mea culpa

what now?

shall I start my abstinence count again

yes, I suppose so

I don't want to start again

loving and being attached

to the number 90

today's number

I really resist

setting the counter

back to zero

but I will

because that's the truth

and the way it works best

is to stick with the truth

I forgive myself

for yesterday's mistake

wrapping the truth of it

around my neck

like a beautiful scarf

and move along the path

of today's food choices

armed this time

with greater awareness

and a stronger commitment

to feel my feelings

first

before reaching for samples

or whatever is offered

Accepting

2010-09-29T09:11:00.000-07:00

after avoiding

after dawdling and washing my car

after stopping at the grocery store

after gathering my courage

I finally climbed the stairs

to the second floor of the nursing home

and crept down the hall to room 240

where my mother lives

how could I have thought for even a moment

that seeing her would be difficult

oh joy and smiles and tears

as we embrace for a long time

me rubbing her thin-fleshed back

and murmuring

mmmmmmm, oh mama, mama, mmmmm

her kissing my cheek

and repeating my name over and over

accepting

accepting each other's love

because she is 100% deaf

we use a dry-erase board

to communicate

I'd been afraid that she might not

be able to comprehend written sentences

at this time

but she does

even long, complex sentences

so we talk that way

me giving her news

about my sister and brothers

about my husband

about Yellowstone

she telling me her news...

seems she's been appointed

along with nine other scholars

to a special committee

of the Geneva Conference

ten scholars given the difficult task

to solve a problem of arithmetic

one that's never previously been solved...

the square root of seven

she, being the chairman of the committee,

has been very busy, she tells me

but she's happy and proud to say

that after several weeks

they have managed to solve the problem

and now the conference leaders

being satisfied with their work

have given her committee a new task

she apologizes in advance

saying she might have to attend

a meeting or two while I'm here

although they never meet for too many hours

I tell her how proud I am of her

and that it's OK about the meetings

this morning before I go to her again

(this time with warm anticipation)

I'm pondering her vivid fantasy life

and thinking about how getting old

might have some advantages after all

and Terri is so right

I am fortunate and blessed

to have her hands to hold

these many years

and still some time to come

Avoiding

2010-09-28T10:03:00.000-07:00

arrived in Minnesota yesterday

after seeing some "new lakes"

along the way

resulting from torrential rains

guess it's much worse

in the southern part of the state

settled into guest bedroom

in my brother's house

feels good to be here

using his wife's laptop

taking a walk with them this morning

enjoying a sense of quiet

knowing I don't have to drive

for 400+ miles today

yet at the same time feeling anxious

avoiding going to the nursing home

to see Mom, who is nearly 94

family tell me she's a lot more confused

than the last time I was here

yet physically stronger

they warn me about

how difficult it is

to communicate with her

I am avoiding it

reading blogs

writing this blog

thinking about washing my car

thinking it's her lunchtime now

thinking she'll probably have a nap

after lunch

feeling my feeling

fear

fear of impending loneliness

sad

sad to see her decline

longing

longing to connect with her

I will hold her hands

massage them with lotion

gently reminding us both

of how much I love her