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.

Throwing Food Away

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

Hello 2011

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.

Road Trip Report from Shelby, MT

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

Mindful Eating ~ Not Quite There Yet...

Five days ago, I made a commitment (here) to eat my lunch mindfully every day this week.

Honestly? It's been a struggle so far.

Tuesday, I was at a restaurant celebrating a friend's birthday. Yak, yak, yak... eat, eat, eat... mindless eating right from the get go.

Yesterday, I found myself a little pushed for time and resentful that I couldn't eat and check email/blogs at the same time. I forced myself to sit and eat semi-mindfully. But my mind kept slipping away from my food and onto the list of stuff I had to do. Plus, I rushed the eating.

Today, I started out OK with a nice prayer of gratitude and slow, mindful eating, but then noticed a book my husband's reading on the table nearby. Without thought, that book was in my hand and I was reading about Elephants in the Room. (Can't wait for him to finish as it appears to be well written and a fascinating topic.) I read through half my lunch, eating mindlessly, of course, before I realized what I was doing and put the book down.

Monday was the only day when I ate mindfully for the whole meal! That day (as I frequently do for lunch) I ate a scoop of cottage cheese (with some dried cranberries and toasted, slivered almonds mixed in it) and a sliced, Braeburn apple.

Being warm, but with a wee breeze, I sat out on the deck. First I soaked up some rays while saying a silent prayer of gratitude to every provider of my food, including the sun, rain, earth, cows, cranberry bogs, almond trees, apple trees, and all the people who grow and process the food. Nice. Felt good. Took some deep breaths.

Then I ate the cottage cheese.. mindfully noticing the creamy consistency and slightly salty flavor of it, the crunch and nutty flavor of the almonds and the occasional sweet-tart of a cranberry. After each bite, I put my spoon down and didn't lift it again until I had swallowed the previous bite, cleared my mouth and paused a bit. Amazing!

Desert was my Braeburn. An apple never tasted so delicious! With each bite, I noticed the crunch sound, the flow of juice, the sweet initial taste followed by tangy aftertaste, the way it took more pressure to chew the skin.

Normally I could (and would) consume a meal like that in 5 minutes. Eating it mindfully took 25 minutes.

Yes, part of me resists taking a whole 25 minutes to eat, when I could multi-task AND finish it off in 5 minutes. Yet, on the other hand, the rest of that day went really well. I accomplished a lot and stayed focused. Maybe taking a significant chunk time to eat is a good thing.

Building new habits isn't easy. I'm well-intended. But so far, I have to admit that I'm not quite there yet when it comes to mindful eating.

Mindful Eating

Today in our OA meeting, one person mentioned how he used to eat as if an efficiency expert were sitting on his shoulder. He also said that recently he has been practicing mindful eating and that he finds he's only eating about half of what he previously consumed at each meal, plus it slows him down and makes his meals more enjoyable.

My thought: Yup... I'm a speed eater too... and my efficiency expert has a huge whip. Crack. Stuff my mouth, prepare new bite. Crack! Not fast enough! Stuff... Not only do I speed eat, but also I gobble my food mindlessly, especially after the first bite. Plus often, I multi-task as well... eating while writing, eating while reading, eating while talking on the phone, eating while watching TV.

Years ago, I attended a Buddhist Silent Retreat at Cloud Mountain. I think it was 5 days. We practiced silence and mindfulness as we participated in various meditations. I especially enjoyed the solo walking meditations on the many trails available in the 15-acre area. Even walking very slowly and being mindful of each step, I found myself writing poems in my mind as I walked. I'll copy one of them to the end of this post.

The most amazing thing about the retreat was eating. We were instructed to eat alone, slowly, in silence, without reading and with our full attention, our full mindfulness, on every single bite we put in our mouths. Eating in that way, each meal took more than a half hour to consume. Each and every bite had taste, texture, purpose and history. The meals were simple and vegetarian. Grains and vegetables never tasted so good to me. I recall feeling completely satisfied after each meal, wanting nothing more, feeling nurtured, blessed, content.

So, of course, when my fellow OA member mentioned his practice of mindful eating, my mind raced back 14 years to the Buddhist Retreat and my own lovely experience with this practice. Is it time for change in the way I eat as well as what and how much I eat? Yes, I believe it is. So today, I make this commitment: For the next week, starting tomorrow, I will eat my lunch each day in a mindful way. I will account for myself here, a week from today. Baby steps in a new direction.

Here's one of the poems I wrote during the retreat after an hour of private, outdoor meditation:

Tree Connection

Although the fenced property line
separates us so that I may not touch you,
I stand with you for this hour in solidarity
and notice the changing forces around us...
the coming and going of hard rains,
the breeze rippling your branches
and the stillness behind the breeze,
the lighter, then darker grey
of the skies above us,
the drifting dances of wooden ducks
in the pond between us.

Although I am human and move about the earth,
today I can appreciate the way you
have stood in one place for forty years or more...
the seasons... the sun, moon, stars...
the animals, insects, birds...
and my kind... all moving around you...
some needing you, some apparently not...
some noticing you, some apparently not.
Yet I know of our connection...
yours, mine and theirs.

Although I am human
and may not cross the line between us,
we are bonded this hour by our downcast eyes.
Your eyes, turning away from
the clear-cut devastation beginning at your roots
and marching over the hills behind you,
your eyes weep
for your missing brothers and sisters.
My eyes, turning away from other human faces
as we pass each other
in this Buddhist place of retreat,
my eyes weep
for the seriousness here
and the lonely lack of human interaction.
Just as you miss the trees in your fold,
I miss the laughter in mine.
Just as you stand alone this hour,
so do I.