Acting on vs. Reacting to...

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?

1. I was over eating.
2. I was compulsively over eating.
3. I was mindlessly over eating, seeking to numb myself I suppose.
4. I was reacting to my husband buying more stuff.
   
5. I was reacting to the delay in getting our food.
6. 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.

1. Say the serenity prayer to myself. Pray for serenity.
2. Think about what I can change... maybe my attitude.
3. Think about what I can not change... maybe his habit of accumulating more stuff.
4. Think about what I could ask him to change at this time... maybe ask him if he would put back half of the stuff.
5. 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.
6. 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.
7. 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?

1. 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.
2. Make a conscious effort to be mindful about each chip.
3. Name what I'm doing... "I am compulsively eating these chips."
4. 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.

Size 10 and Stuff

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.

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

Mixed Bag o' Feelings

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!

A Year in OA and Hoarding Stuff

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.

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

The Stuff That's Under Everything Else

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.

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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

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.

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

Clutter

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.

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