This whole change thing is an uphill battle. I know that's cliche' but it is - literally and figuratively. There's a hill that rises at the end of Bank Avenue along the Delaware River that I had avoided at all costs until about 2 weeks ago. I had memories of my childhood, trying to pedal my bicycle up that hill and remember feeling spent and nearly-defeated each time I tried it. Besides, why would I run up a hill when there are plenty of other perfectly good streets that are level?
On the day I first went up the hill on the C25K program, I had been fantasizing about being able to wear a sports bra or sport tank and running shorts to go out on my training days. At present, this is quite impossible for aesthetic and practical reasons. Firstly, though I don't care much what people think, it just isn't right for a woman of my particular girth to trot around in a sports bra. Really - like not right at all. I wistfully hope that someday I will be able to do so, but it isn't time yet. Secondly, running shorts (or any shorts) are too short and result in what I can only describe as a dreadful bunching up of fabric that results in chub rub. I would love to wear shorts to run because of the heat, but yoga-pant capris are most practical, yielding the least friction. (See my previous post from 7/14 for the details on what chub rub is and why it is a problem.)
So in the middle of my fantasy about the Future Me in the running outfit that would make me look and feel like a real runner, I see The Hill. Just up yonder, it gently slopes upward, taunting me and challenging me to take it on. I was in the midst of a "run" interval when this happened. Unswervingly, I began my ascent. Go big or go home right. I wasn't going to walk it.
At that very moment of decision, like a beacon of bronzed fruition, I spied her at the top of the hill about to run down. It was her! Future Me. Descending the hill easily in the very outfit of my aforementioned fantasy, she positively glowed, pounding the pavement with finesse and confidence. WOW. It was a cosmic moment - the Future Me passing by the Current Me. As I puffed up the hill past her, I thought to myself "someday that will be me". I didn't feel bad about myself at all at that moment. I felt excited, energized, hopeful. That in and of itself is a HUGE change for me. I used to look at girls like that and feel inferior, jealous and hopelessly stuck in a zaftig body. Oddly, it was an unexpected change, not one I'd planned or sought. Perhaps the best kind of change.
And as she gracefully bounded by me, I had a new fantasy. Perhaps as she passed me, she felt good about herself and thought "that used to be me". Maybe she remembered her first days and weeks of healthful exercise and was proud of just how far she'd come.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
THE BEAUTY OF PERSPECTIVE
Boy have I gotten some new perspective these last few months. It has come to school me and reshape my thinking on things both big and small. This shift in perspective has come mainly because I was open to it, expecting it due to the choices I have made recently. As you may already know, these choices have been physical, intellectual and spiritual.
I've found myself thinking a lot lately about things related to exercise. Mainly this is due to the fact that I have actually been exercising lately. THIS JUST IN: I've decided I need to buy an armband for my iPod. I formerly thought this was sporty flamboyance when I saw people with those contraptions strapped about their arms. However, I've discovered when you actually sweat vis-à-vis exercise, your hands get too sweaty to hold an iPod. Similarly, between your collarbone and bra strap is no good either. Let's not mention any other crevices in that area that could seriously short circuit your electronics if you sweat profusely enough.
Another formerly ridiculous notion is that of getting some type of treadmill or exercise device. I was thinking of putting it in the attic. You know, for the winter months when it is too inclement to exercise outside. Yes Gentle Reader, I have now come to realize that you probably can actually exert yourself in the wintertime rather than lumbering about in fleecy nightclothes eating as though hibernation was nigh. Should my ship fail to come in and prohibit such a purchase, I will make do, but still exercise throughout the cold season.
On to things less carnal now. I recently finished reading Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah. See the link for in-depth details. However, the book chronicles the journey of a young Sierra Leonean boy as he goes from a 12-year-old trying to outrun the war, to a boy soldier (under duress), to a rehabilitated young adult. It is a choice book for the 10th grade summer reading so I had to read it to prepare for the fall. As I read it, I came to tears and winced more than once and felt strongly that EVERY American should read this book. The luxury of boredom, the apathy regarding our freedom and the general lack of gratitude for the goodness of living in America are my reasons for saying so. The unimaginable horrors Beah experienced, and the simple, eloquently heartbreaking way in which he conveys his story truly moved me. It shifted my own perspective about how grateful I should be to live in a place where I only have to read about someone else's account of such misery. I really have so very much more to be grateful for than I had previously been conscious of.
This naturally brings me to my final area of perspective, the spiritual. I have been faithfully (no pun intended) taking time to read from devotionals and the Bible at least 5-6 days a week in order to get a deeper understanding of who God is and in turn, who I am in Christ Jesus. I read a chapter from Psalms and Proverbs a day, along with working on the book of Acts at present. I find that my spirit and attitude is more reflective and grateful, and my interactions with those around me more pleasant and understanding as a result. When I was simply attending church services and then leaving God in his little Sunday/Wednesday box, I was limiting the transformative power He so freely gives if we only seek Him. I want to get to 7 days a week without fail, though life and responsibilities sometimes cause the day to run away from me. I'm still working on that.
This habit, as well as those of good eating, exercise and reading vs. television are ones I desperately desire to maintain once I return to the full time grind in September. With great excitement and interest I look forward to how these habits will impact my effectiveness on the job and at home. Here's hoping all of these habits together will give me enough of a shift in perspective to overlook or laugh off the inevitable frustrations and challenges of working full time and being a mom. I am savoring these last weeks of "freedom" and am so very grateful to God that my circumstances allow me the time and luxury of self-development and improvement.
Perspective is indeed, a beautiful thing.
I've found myself thinking a lot lately about things related to exercise. Mainly this is due to the fact that I have actually been exercising lately. THIS JUST IN: I've decided I need to buy an armband for my iPod. I formerly thought this was sporty flamboyance when I saw people with those contraptions strapped about their arms. However, I've discovered when you actually sweat vis-à-vis exercise, your hands get too sweaty to hold an iPod. Similarly, between your collarbone and bra strap is no good either. Let's not mention any other crevices in that area that could seriously short circuit your electronics if you sweat profusely enough.
Another formerly ridiculous notion is that of getting some type of treadmill or exercise device. I was thinking of putting it in the attic. You know, for the winter months when it is too inclement to exercise outside. Yes Gentle Reader, I have now come to realize that you probably can actually exert yourself in the wintertime rather than lumbering about in fleecy nightclothes eating as though hibernation was nigh. Should my ship fail to come in and prohibit such a purchase, I will make do, but still exercise throughout the cold season.
On to things less carnal now. I recently finished reading Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah. See the link for in-depth details. However, the book chronicles the journey of a young Sierra Leonean boy as he goes from a 12-year-old trying to outrun the war, to a boy soldier (under duress), to a rehabilitated young adult. It is a choice book for the 10th grade summer reading so I had to read it to prepare for the fall. As I read it, I came to tears and winced more than once and felt strongly that EVERY American should read this book. The luxury of boredom, the apathy regarding our freedom and the general lack of gratitude for the goodness of living in America are my reasons for saying so. The unimaginable horrors Beah experienced, and the simple, eloquently heartbreaking way in which he conveys his story truly moved me. It shifted my own perspective about how grateful I should be to live in a place where I only have to read about someone else's account of such misery. I really have so very much more to be grateful for than I had previously been conscious of.
This naturally brings me to my final area of perspective, the spiritual. I have been faithfully (no pun intended) taking time to read from devotionals and the Bible at least 5-6 days a week in order to get a deeper understanding of who God is and in turn, who I am in Christ Jesus. I read a chapter from Psalms and Proverbs a day, along with working on the book of Acts at present. I find that my spirit and attitude is more reflective and grateful, and my interactions with those around me more pleasant and understanding as a result. When I was simply attending church services and then leaving God in his little Sunday/Wednesday box, I was limiting the transformative power He so freely gives if we only seek Him. I want to get to 7 days a week without fail, though life and responsibilities sometimes cause the day to run away from me. I'm still working on that.
This habit, as well as those of good eating, exercise and reading vs. television are ones I desperately desire to maintain once I return to the full time grind in September. With great excitement and interest I look forward to how these habits will impact my effectiveness on the job and at home. Here's hoping all of these habits together will give me enough of a shift in perspective to overlook or laugh off the inevitable frustrations and challenges of working full time and being a mom. I am savoring these last weeks of "freedom" and am so very grateful to God that my circumstances allow me the time and luxury of self-development and improvement.
Perspective is indeed, a beautiful thing.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
TIMING IS EVERYTHING
As a recovering Queen of I'm Gonna, I registered for my first 5K today. I was toying with the idea of doing one when my C25K training ends at the end of August. Toying = fearfully considering! I mean - just because I did the training somewhat anonymously on the streets of my little town doesn't mean I am ready to do a real 5K with real runners and a painfully real audience. That's a big whoop you know.
But as God's timing would have it, I happened by a digital billboard on Friday night on I95 South in Philadelphia. It is one of the ones that flashes alternating advertisements for sporting events, liquor, Tastykakes and the like. It just so happened that I saw it when the NOCC (National Ovarian Cancer Coalition) had an advertisement for a 5K on 9/10/11. I knew when I saw this I absolutely had to do it, despite my fear. I also feel it is no accident that my training in the 10 week program will have just ended about 2 weeks prior to this race. Convenient timing right?
Then there's the meaningfulness of the whole ordeal. My dear friend at work lost her mom to Ovarian Cancer several years back. I realized that if I endeavored to follow through with, it had to be for a personal cause like that. I told my friend yesterday that I planned to do it, which "makes it real" according to another wise friend of mine. Once you let the cat out of the bag and blab around what you are planning, everyone is hopelessly covered in cat hair, so to speak. Another friend similarly advised me that if you make a fanfare about the fact that you are doing a race, it makes you more likely to follow through lest you appear a big fat liar. Being big and fat is one thing, but a liar - that's just not OK.
Having the expectations of other people pressing on you is sometimes very helpful, and very necessary to complete a task that we would otherwise hem and haw over. When we privately make promises to ourselves, they often go unfulfilled because of our own lack of discipline, paralyzing fear or sheer laziness. In this case, I need the people around me to be expecting something to happen so that I am more likely to muster the moxie to do it.
For the record, I ordered an XL T-shirt for the race (snugly my current size), which is about 6 weeks away. I am hoping to be swimming in it when I run in September. My wish is for the spectators to question the floppy sloppy sack of a shirt that this accidental athlete dons when she passes by, not quite fleet of foot, but not quite a bumbling disaster either.
Alas, I continue to stumble forward into my awkwardly beautiful season of change. :-)
But as God's timing would have it, I happened by a digital billboard on Friday night on I95 South in Philadelphia. It is one of the ones that flashes alternating advertisements for sporting events, liquor, Tastykakes and the like. It just so happened that I saw it when the NOCC (National Ovarian Cancer Coalition) had an advertisement for a 5K on 9/10/11. I knew when I saw this I absolutely had to do it, despite my fear. I also feel it is no accident that my training in the 10 week program will have just ended about 2 weeks prior to this race. Convenient timing right?
Then there's the meaningfulness of the whole ordeal. My dear friend at work lost her mom to Ovarian Cancer several years back. I realized that if I endeavored to follow through with, it had to be for a personal cause like that. I told my friend yesterday that I planned to do it, which "makes it real" according to another wise friend of mine. Once you let the cat out of the bag and blab around what you are planning, everyone is hopelessly covered in cat hair, so to speak. Another friend similarly advised me that if you make a fanfare about the fact that you are doing a race, it makes you more likely to follow through lest you appear a big fat liar. Being big and fat is one thing, but a liar - that's just not OK.
Having the expectations of other people pressing on you is sometimes very helpful, and very necessary to complete a task that we would otherwise hem and haw over. When we privately make promises to ourselves, they often go unfulfilled because of our own lack of discipline, paralyzing fear or sheer laziness. In this case, I need the people around me to be expecting something to happen so that I am more likely to muster the moxie to do it.
For the record, I ordered an XL T-shirt for the race (snugly my current size), which is about 6 weeks away. I am hoping to be swimming in it when I run in September. My wish is for the spectators to question the floppy sloppy sack of a shirt that this accidental athlete dons when she passes by, not quite fleet of foot, but not quite a bumbling disaster either.
Alas, I continue to stumble forward into my awkwardly beautiful season of change. :-)
Thursday, July 14, 2011
INCARCERATION - 8 WAYS BEING OVERWEIGHT IS LIKE PRISON
I FEEL LIKE BUSTIN' LOOSE. (CLICK ME)
I'm bustin' out. No, not of my clothes, of the joint. The Clink. The Slammer. The Big House. I'm done being confined, squeezed, stifled and generally held back by my weight.
It occurred to me today that being overweight is a lot like being imprisoned. Here are 8 ways:
8. Seats. I mean, I once got stuck in an antique rocking chair, made in days when people were generally smaller, but still - that ain't right. Also bistro chairs, airplane seats, other places like that you'd want to sit.
7. Clearance sales. It seems like the only people getting a deal on clearance are the smaller ones. Never any XXL sizes left, all just mediums, smalls and such.
6. Buffet lines. Who wants to be the chunky girl loading up her plate at a buffet? People look at you. They take note of your dinner and give haughty looks (real or imagined). Besides, they are diet suicide, designed to keep you in the "Big House".
5. Stylish clothes. Just because I am bigger than other people doesn't mean I am in my 60's looking for giant floral prints and polyester for a cruise. I want to be cute and stylish like my other teacher friends who shop at the LOFT and look adorable all the time. I know that may sound vain, but who doesn't want to look cute and stylish?
4. Shoes. Have you tried wearing skimpy pancake flats and being overweight? It hurts! Your feet! Your knees! Ouch! And it would be nice to wear heels without feeling like I'm putting 1000 psi on the ball of my foot.
3. Mammograms. I had my first one last year and they had to push that bad boy - er, girl - pretty hard. Would it hurt less if there were less to press? We'll see.
2. Bathing suits. How many times did I sit on the beach in some skirty bathing suit that was pretending to hide something and wish I was frolicking and walking confidently on the sand by the water? How many times did I map the shortest route from my chair to the pool so nobody would see? Too many to count. SIDE NOTE: I'm realistic. I've had 3 kids so even if I am never bikini material (which is ok with me) I would like something less matronly than my Mom-mom's suits I remember from the late 1970's in Wildwood.
1. Chub rub. For those of you who aren't acquainted with the term, chub rub is when your thighs engage in thigh-to-thigh combat, generating friction and eventually brutal chafing that make your romantic strolls and other walking unbearably unbearable. Truthfully, no amount of powder or gel can solve it. The only solution is some type of Spanx-like contraption, which takes the "breezy and free" feeling of wearing a skirt in the summer out of the equation.
I resolve to continue to eat and move healthfully so that my confinement is limited and I serve a reduced sentence. Good behavior will lead to my release. I can feel it!
I'm bustin' out. No, not of my clothes, of the joint. The Clink. The Slammer. The Big House. I'm done being confined, squeezed, stifled and generally held back by my weight.
It occurred to me today that being overweight is a lot like being imprisoned. Here are 8 ways:
8. Seats. I mean, I once got stuck in an antique rocking chair, made in days when people were generally smaller, but still - that ain't right. Also bistro chairs, airplane seats, other places like that you'd want to sit.
7. Clearance sales. It seems like the only people getting a deal on clearance are the smaller ones. Never any XXL sizes left, all just mediums, smalls and such.
6. Buffet lines. Who wants to be the chunky girl loading up her plate at a buffet? People look at you. They take note of your dinner and give haughty looks (real or imagined). Besides, they are diet suicide, designed to keep you in the "Big House".
5. Stylish clothes. Just because I am bigger than other people doesn't mean I am in my 60's looking for giant floral prints and polyester for a cruise. I want to be cute and stylish like my other teacher friends who shop at the LOFT and look adorable all the time. I know that may sound vain, but who doesn't want to look cute and stylish?
4. Shoes. Have you tried wearing skimpy pancake flats and being overweight? It hurts! Your feet! Your knees! Ouch! And it would be nice to wear heels without feeling like I'm putting 1000 psi on the ball of my foot.
3. Mammograms. I had my first one last year and they had to push that bad boy - er, girl - pretty hard. Would it hurt less if there were less to press? We'll see.
2. Bathing suits. How many times did I sit on the beach in some skirty bathing suit that was pretending to hide something and wish I was frolicking and walking confidently on the sand by the water? How many times did I map the shortest route from my chair to the pool so nobody would see? Too many to count. SIDE NOTE: I'm realistic. I've had 3 kids so even if I am never bikini material (which is ok with me) I would like something less matronly than my Mom-mom's suits I remember from the late 1970's in Wildwood.
1. Chub rub. For those of you who aren't acquainted with the term, chub rub is when your thighs engage in thigh-to-thigh combat, generating friction and eventually brutal chafing that make your romantic strolls and other walking unbearably unbearable. Truthfully, no amount of powder or gel can solve it. The only solution is some type of Spanx-like contraption, which takes the "breezy and free" feeling of wearing a skirt in the summer out of the equation.
I resolve to continue to eat and move healthfully so that my confinement is limited and I serve a reduced sentence. Good behavior will lead to my release. I can feel it!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO...
IMPOSSIBLE?
That's changing - slowly.
Laughter, music, reading aloud, sizzling food, preschool television, vacuum cleaner...I think those who know me know the foreign sound in my house.
I'm what they call a "messie", which is technically a cutsie way of saying a poor housekeeper, slob, what have you. I've never had a penchant for keeping a neat house. I want to. I've tried to. But you know what they say - "the spirit is willing but the mop is weak".
Don't get me wrong. I'm WAY better than I was when we first got married. Working and going to school at night while being a mom and a wife was just a lot at that time and things were perpetually disorganized. It would take days to tidy up and prepare for a time of hospitality or hosting a special occasion (which I enjoy so much) and would often result in much barking and shouting on my part. Reciprocal tears and scowls from my eldest and my husband (respectively) would be provided. By the time company arrived, we were so tired and cranky that we could scarcely enjoy the event.
Nowadays, we're much more easily able to tidy, though we are still recovering clutterbugs. I've begun a serious and massive purge of clutter since being home on maternity leave. Partly my nesting instinct must have kicked in, but partly my realization that this would be the largest chunk of time off I'd have until retirement in 20+ years lit a fire under me. I didn't want to be incarcerated by my own bad housekeeping habits any longer.
I have successfully cleaned out drawers that have been accumulating crap for 15+ years. I've bagged and donated enough clothes to outfit all the Duggars. I've trashed, yard-saled, eBayed and given stuff away like it was my job for the past several months. Guess what? The house is magically neater somehow. Not perfect, but neater.
I have been loosely following the Flylady, who helps by giving a systematic approach to decluttering and keeping house on a rotating schedule. I've yet to perfect her system or follow her directions to the letter, but her decluttering inspiration has worked wonders thus far. She talks at length about CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome). I don't want CHAOS because I want to use my home and devastatingly deft culinary skills to bless others. I want my house to be filled with the laughter and chatter of friends old and new.
Today I cleaned my 5-year-old's room. She helped a little when I started but then went to storytime with her Grandma. While you may think it best to make a child stay the whole time until it is done, you'd be wrong. You can't throw stuff out and move things around nearly as effectively with a little person poring over every broken toy and useless article of junk. She had a stake in straightening up but then I was able to be ruthless once she left. This will be the last time I clean like that in her room EVER. She will be taught daily and weekly maintenance. This will force me to do the same in the rest of our home, lest I be a glaring hypocrite, which is not my desire.
I don't want my younger two to grow up thinking it is normal to have junk all over the floor and run around frantically when company is dropping by. This is a great mistake I made with my eldest, whose bedroom oft wafts the aroma of a high school locker room and looks like an episode of Hoarders. This is partly my fault for teaching her crisis cleaning instead of routine cleaning.
So while I still have a home that looks "lived in", I am endeavoring to have it be a place free of CHAOS without secret exploding closets of shame or bedrooms with doors that need closing to conceal great tempests of laundry. My children deserve to grow up having pride in their home and be able to invite friends to come over without worry of embarrassment.
As a team, a family of "picker uppers", we can do it. It is a habit we are forming and a change we are excited about. No more CHAOS for us.
That's changing - slowly.
Laughter, music, reading aloud, sizzling food, preschool television, vacuum cleaner...I think those who know me know the foreign sound in my house.
I'm what they call a "messie", which is technically a cutsie way of saying a poor housekeeper, slob, what have you. I've never had a penchant for keeping a neat house. I want to. I've tried to. But you know what they say - "the spirit is willing but the mop is weak".
Don't get me wrong. I'm WAY better than I was when we first got married. Working and going to school at night while being a mom and a wife was just a lot at that time and things were perpetually disorganized. It would take days to tidy up and prepare for a time of hospitality or hosting a special occasion (which I enjoy so much) and would often result in much barking and shouting on my part. Reciprocal tears and scowls from my eldest and my husband (respectively) would be provided. By the time company arrived, we were so tired and cranky that we could scarcely enjoy the event.
Nowadays, we're much more easily able to tidy, though we are still recovering clutterbugs. I've begun a serious and massive purge of clutter since being home on maternity leave. Partly my nesting instinct must have kicked in, but partly my realization that this would be the largest chunk of time off I'd have until retirement in 20+ years lit a fire under me. I didn't want to be incarcerated by my own bad housekeeping habits any longer.
I have successfully cleaned out drawers that have been accumulating crap for 15+ years. I've bagged and donated enough clothes to outfit all the Duggars. I've trashed, yard-saled, eBayed and given stuff away like it was my job for the past several months. Guess what? The house is magically neater somehow. Not perfect, but neater.
I have been loosely following the Flylady, who helps by giving a systematic approach to decluttering and keeping house on a rotating schedule. I've yet to perfect her system or follow her directions to the letter, but her decluttering inspiration has worked wonders thus far. She talks at length about CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome). I don't want CHAOS because I want to use my home and devastatingly deft culinary skills to bless others. I want my house to be filled with the laughter and chatter of friends old and new.
Today I cleaned my 5-year-old's room. She helped a little when I started but then went to storytime with her Grandma. While you may think it best to make a child stay the whole time until it is done, you'd be wrong. You can't throw stuff out and move things around nearly as effectively with a little person poring over every broken toy and useless article of junk. She had a stake in straightening up but then I was able to be ruthless once she left. This will be the last time I clean like that in her room EVER. She will be taught daily and weekly maintenance. This will force me to do the same in the rest of our home, lest I be a glaring hypocrite, which is not my desire.
I don't want my younger two to grow up thinking it is normal to have junk all over the floor and run around frantically when company is dropping by. This is a great mistake I made with my eldest, whose bedroom oft wafts the aroma of a high school locker room and looks like an episode of Hoarders. This is partly my fault for teaching her crisis cleaning instead of routine cleaning.
So while I still have a home that looks "lived in", I am endeavoring to have it be a place free of CHAOS without secret exploding closets of shame or bedrooms with doors that need closing to conceal great tempests of laundry. My children deserve to grow up having pride in their home and be able to invite friends to come over without worry of embarrassment.
As a team, a family of "picker uppers", we can do it. It is a habit we are forming and a change we are excited about. No more CHAOS for us.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
NECESSARY FRIVOLITY
Most of us who wish to exact change in our lives think that it somehow requires us to become no-nonsense, no-frills, anti-pleasure or even self-punishing. This is not the case. While change of any type will require a new kind of thinking and some serious self-discipline, it is important to remember that indulgence and frivolity can and should play a role.
Consider the humble cocoa bean. It is one of my favorite items in God's creation and I don't often go more than a day without a morsel of chocolate. My almost-nightly ritual includes dinner, then a square of 70% cocoa chocolate. Just one (usually) - enough to sate my inner chocolate beast. I'm still down on the scale, exercising, feeling healthier and enjoying my little bitter-velvety splurge.
What about coffee? Some people swear it off altogether, even though they enjoy it. Why not a cup of decaf, or a half-caf, or even a small regular? And wine, and bacon and all those fine things. Enjoy a bit rather than swearing off all things you love.
Of course I talk about food first, but food is not the only place necessary frivolity resides. What about an hour or two of brain-candy television? A window-shopping trip to someplace expensive? An afternoon dessert date with an old friend? All permissible and beneficial. You may feel these seem to oppose my desire to use my time more wisely, alas, they are integral to being successful in any change you wish to exact in your life. If all other time is well-managed, these pleasures can fit into the busiest of schedules.
A little pleasure, frivolity, indulgence, whatever you will, are so important because they give you pause in a world that moves at what seems light speed. We all need pause. Selah. A moment of breath to refocus our minds and hearts.
Now go get some chocolate. And savor just 1 square.
Consider the humble cocoa bean. It is one of my favorite items in God's creation and I don't often go more than a day without a morsel of chocolate. My almost-nightly ritual includes dinner, then a square of 70% cocoa chocolate. Just one (usually) - enough to sate my inner chocolate beast. I'm still down on the scale, exercising, feeling healthier and enjoying my little bitter-velvety splurge.
What about coffee? Some people swear it off altogether, even though they enjoy it. Why not a cup of decaf, or a half-caf, or even a small regular? And wine, and bacon and all those fine things. Enjoy a bit rather than swearing off all things you love.
Of course I talk about food first, but food is not the only place necessary frivolity resides. What about an hour or two of brain-candy television? A window-shopping trip to someplace expensive? An afternoon dessert date with an old friend? All permissible and beneficial. You may feel these seem to oppose my desire to use my time more wisely, alas, they are integral to being successful in any change you wish to exact in your life. If all other time is well-managed, these pleasures can fit into the busiest of schedules.
A little pleasure, frivolity, indulgence, whatever you will, are so important because they give you pause in a world that moves at what seems light speed. We all need pause. Selah. A moment of breath to refocus our minds and hearts.
Now go get some chocolate. And savor just 1 square.
Friday, July 1, 2011
IT'S ALL IN YOUR HEAD
"A wise man changes his mind, a fool never." ~Spanish Proverb
Outward change begins on the inside. Whether becoming more organized, more fit, less frivolous with time, less easily offended, a person needs a change of mind before anything can manifest itself. I recently downloaded As a Man Thinketh (1903) by James Allen to my Kindle. The title of the book is based upon Proverbs 23:7 "For as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." I am also reading How to Live on 24 Hours a Day (1910) by Arnold Bennett. These 100+ year old texts are uncannily relevant and spoke to me in gripping ways as I read each. I was compelled as I read because I felt both of these could have been written about/to/for me. Indeed, the substance of a person's thoughts equates to the substance of a person's character, actions and life in general. I don't want to be junk - I want to be better.
The thrust of both works focuses on a person's ability to control the mind and focus on how to establish priorities. This is probably my greatest obstacle to finding success in the areas I am striving to change. There is a great difference between having an idea and experiencing a change of mind.
I am the Queen of Big Ideas. You know me, the one who is going to be more organized at home and school. The one who is really going to lose the weight and start exercising "this time". I'm the one who has lots of big plans and makes a good start, but nary a successful finish.
Allen says "(c)hange of diet will not help a man who will not change his thoughts". How true. If I don't start to view food differently, I will never eat healthfully consistently enough to see a change. He also says "(i)f you would protect your body, guard your mind. If you would renew your body, beautify your mind." WOW. That knocked me down. I have to get beyond my big ideas and make them a way of life, a philosophy. I can eat salads all the livelong day but if I view it as a punitive action for my food sins, rather than component of healthy change, it is not truly beneficial to me. I need new habits, which are birthed only when a habit of mind precedes.
This also goes for how we spend our time. How much time do I waste looking at rubbish on television or reading statuses on Facebook? Too much. How much time have I wasted losing and gaining the same pounds? Straightening up the same messes? SIGH. What a shame. No more. Bennett notes, quite accurately, that "if one cannot arrange that an income of twenty-four hours a day shall exactly cover all proper terms of expenditure, one does muddle one's life definitely." Muddle. That's one word for it. My chronic inability to manage my time effectively is the worst kind of sin, for we are allotted 24 hours each day, and can never regain lost, wasted or poorly-used time. My new endeavor having read this book, is to live consciously and intentionally (before just an idea I had) by making new habits.
If this blog entry seems like a bunch of heady mumbo-jumbo, that's because it is. I need to start in my head, to establish systems that allow me the right balance of pleasure, work and rest. I highly recommend these two short reads. They are hyperlinked above and I have found them to be catalysts for putting a defined point on the general ideas I have been having about a disciplined mind and good time management.
In practical terms, I publicly subject myself to scrutiny by confessing the following intended changes:
1. I will exercise a minimum of 5 times per week (3 - C25K sessions and 2 - walks with the family, yoga, etc.)
2. I will restrict my time on Facebook to once daily at most. YES ONCE. I may even skip a day. I don't really need to see all your thoughts or post all of mine all the time.
3. I will (Lord help me now) eat according to my Weight Watchers plan by logging every morsel. I will enjoy food as fuel for my body, not reserve to be stored up in various jiggly places.
4. I will engage at least 1 hour daily in study of beneficial things like the Bible, literature, poetry and the like.
5. I will not beat myself up if I fall short in any of the above areas, though I will strive to do my best.
I can do it. It's all in my head.
Outward change begins on the inside. Whether becoming more organized, more fit, less frivolous with time, less easily offended, a person needs a change of mind before anything can manifest itself. I recently downloaded As a Man Thinketh (1903) by James Allen to my Kindle. The title of the book is based upon Proverbs 23:7 "For as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." I am also reading How to Live on 24 Hours a Day (1910) by Arnold Bennett. These 100+ year old texts are uncannily relevant and spoke to me in gripping ways as I read each. I was compelled as I read because I felt both of these could have been written about/to/for me. Indeed, the substance of a person's thoughts equates to the substance of a person's character, actions and life in general. I don't want to be junk - I want to be better.
The thrust of both works focuses on a person's ability to control the mind and focus on how to establish priorities. This is probably my greatest obstacle to finding success in the areas I am striving to change. There is a great difference between having an idea and experiencing a change of mind.
I am the Queen of Big Ideas. You know me, the one who is going to be more organized at home and school. The one who is really going to lose the weight and start exercising "this time". I'm the one who has lots of big plans and makes a good start, but nary a successful finish.
Allen says "(c)hange of diet will not help a man who will not change his thoughts". How true. If I don't start to view food differently, I will never eat healthfully consistently enough to see a change. He also says "(i)f you would protect your body, guard your mind. If you would renew your body, beautify your mind." WOW. That knocked me down. I have to get beyond my big ideas and make them a way of life, a philosophy. I can eat salads all the livelong day but if I view it as a punitive action for my food sins, rather than component of healthy change, it is not truly beneficial to me. I need new habits, which are birthed only when a habit of mind precedes.
This also goes for how we spend our time. How much time do I waste looking at rubbish on television or reading statuses on Facebook? Too much. How much time have I wasted losing and gaining the same pounds? Straightening up the same messes? SIGH. What a shame. No more. Bennett notes, quite accurately, that "if one cannot arrange that an income of twenty-four hours a day shall exactly cover all proper terms of expenditure, one does muddle one's life definitely." Muddle. That's one word for it. My chronic inability to manage my time effectively is the worst kind of sin, for we are allotted 24 hours each day, and can never regain lost, wasted or poorly-used time. My new endeavor having read this book, is to live consciously and intentionally (before just an idea I had) by making new habits.
If this blog entry seems like a bunch of heady mumbo-jumbo, that's because it is. I need to start in my head, to establish systems that allow me the right balance of pleasure, work and rest. I highly recommend these two short reads. They are hyperlinked above and I have found them to be catalysts for putting a defined point on the general ideas I have been having about a disciplined mind and good time management.
In practical terms, I publicly subject myself to scrutiny by confessing the following intended changes:
1. I will exercise a minimum of 5 times per week (3 - C25K sessions and 2 - walks with the family, yoga, etc.)
2. I will restrict my time on Facebook to once daily at most. YES ONCE. I may even skip a day. I don't really need to see all your thoughts or post all of mine all the time.
3. I will (Lord help me now) eat according to my Weight Watchers plan by logging every morsel. I will enjoy food as fuel for my body, not reserve to be stored up in various jiggly places.
4. I will engage at least 1 hour daily in study of beneficial things like the Bible, literature, poetry and the like.
5. I will not beat myself up if I fall short in any of the above areas, though I will strive to do my best.
I can do it. It's all in my head.
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