Anonymity... Comment by Anonymous

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

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...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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

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...

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

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!

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.)

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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

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!

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

Emergency Rations

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.

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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

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

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):

1. Eat sweets, especially chocolate.
2. Shop for shoes or clothes.
3. Call a friend.
4. Buy art supplies.
5. Write morning pages.
6. Cook a special, fancy dinner; maybe invite friends.
7. Go out for breakfast, lunch or dinner with my husband or a friend.
8. Call my parents or sibling.
9. Bake cookies, cake, sweet bread, etc.
10. 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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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!