All summer long, I have been walking and working out. I've been taking water aerobics classes and most recently doing EA Active on my Wii (which I love!).
The strangest things are happening.
First, I'm to the point now that if I don't get some sort of workout in -- I'm cranky. Who knew? I really love the way I feel. My face looks better -- at least I think it does. When I get dressed for the day, I take more care in what I'm wearing. I haven't lost any inches -- although I'd swear my swim shorts, which are normally pretty tight, went on just a bit easier tonight. I could be hallucinating.
I'm hungry for healthy things. Here's a crazy thing: I can go to a Mexican restaurant and not eat a basket full of chips -- and LIVE. I can eat a healthy choice from a menu and I don't starve to death. Can you believe that? I didn't even feel deprived. I'm still here. I'm still OK. I can eat healthier foods and not feel like I missed out on something. Can you believe that? I'm stunned.
Here's another odd thing -- the chaos is starting to bother me more.
For the last 13-15 years, I've been adding to my collection of....everything. I've spent thousands of dollars on craft supplies, books, sewing stuff -- well, just everything. I start projects I don't finish. Like the food I was stuffing in my mouth, I was stuffing my home with possessions -- all in hopes of filling a void. The void of what I perceived as a lack of love and appreciation -- two things I figured I could get from shopping and eating.
First, I noticed my table. Really, shouldn't tables be sacred? In theory, we're supposed to sit with our loved ones and break bread. Right? We should sit as a family at the table and eat nourishing food and bless our spirits with companionship -- like Jesus at the last supper. My end of the table was piled a foot high -(maybe more, I'm NOT joking)-with magazines and mail and 4-H stuff and books. It's ridiculous.
My truck is filled with clutter. My office is piled with crap. You can't get into my closet. The list goes on and on.
Here's the clencher: The other day I sat down on my daughter's bed and looked up. I saw my reflection in the mirror. I don't spend a lot of time looking into a full length mirror. In my head I'm fit and athletic and I sort of assume that how I look in my head is how I look in real life. But I'll be damned.
I looked at this woman in the mirror -- she looked used up. Exhausted. She looked like someone who had taken a lot of blows. Who was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and her breast and her abdomen and her thighs.
The clutter and the extra weight are just the outward expression of the smothered, overwhelmed, frustrated, angry, abused person I've become.
The more I exercise, the more I feel stronger on the inside, the less comfortable the clutter -- both spiritual and physical -- feels. Again -- go figure.
So I have started this process of cleaning out my physical life and I'm expecting my emotional clutter and my physical clutter to get dumped along with the piles of papers and magazines and other crap I've consumed both spiritually and physically. It's going to take a while, but I'll get it done.
It's really tempting for me to blame the person in my life who has made me feel unloved, unattractive and unappealing in any way. The reality is that it is my choice to allow him to make me feel that way. In order to really come in contact with my true self I need to regain control of my heart and life. This is the way to do it -- blessing my body and soul with activities and foods that nourish and strengthen my body and then, get away from the clutter that blocks my energy. Only then will have the emotional strength to break free of the emotional hold he seems to have over me.
I know I'm on the right path. I know this is what I need to do gain control and make my dreams come true.
Change is on the horizon. Every horoscope, psychic, gut feeling and internal guidance tells me so. The challenge for me will be to get ready for it without getting trapped in self sabotaging patterns.
With angels like each of you, I'll make it.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Sole searching
Perhaps, as a Capricorn, I'm finally coming into my natural Earth Mother self.
It happened last week, after a particularly long and emotionally frustrating day. I had found a lump in my left breast and the trip to the doctor and the subsequent mammogram were irritating. I knew the lump was likely nothing, but it scared me. On top of it, my husband was, well, less than supportive.
I was mad, scared and frustrated at the direction my life was taking. I needed to work in my garden. I had just been watered and parts of it were muddy. I was getting more and more frustrated with losing my shoes in the mad and I had this nagging voice in my head. "Take off your shoes." Connect with the mud, the earth the dirt. Find your core in the mud."
At first, I was not in the mood to hear this. So in my frustration, I answered back. Sweat starting to sting my eyes and all, this is what I said:
"I don't want to step on a sticker. I don't want to get poked by a rock. I don't want mud between my toes. I want my husband to be a man. I want this lump to go away. I want my days to go as I plan and not keep getting interrupted. And you, you stupid voice, need to shut the fuck up."
But the voice was still there. With each weed I bent over to pull, it got louder.
Finally, I threw my shoes off and let my feet sink into the mud.
It felt great. Really great.
And very, very peaceful.
Now, with every step into the dirt and mud, I started to relax.
I felt centered.
It occurred to me that I not felt like this in a very long time.
So it started down a path of deep soul -- or sole :-) -- searching. I rarely feel like I fit in anywhere. I am not happy in my personal life and I want to make some big changes. Right now there seems so much to do. However, before I can make any changes. I need to break some old patterns. Self destructive, self pitying road blocks that I have consistently allowed to stop me. I think I'm afraid of success. Though I'm not entirely sure why.
There is comfort in the chaos I have created in my life. Excuses.
It's sooooooo much easier to blame the situation or others for not meeting my goals.
But before I can expect change in others, I have to change myself. And somewhere, somehow (and with the help of all of you) I have to find the courage to move past the obstacles that have, in the past, stopped me.
I have to unleash my inner Diva. The person without fear, without concern of what others think. The person who speaks and walks confidently toward any chosen destination. I've lost her -- buried her under disappointment and loss and disillusion. I have slowly uncovered her from time to time in recent years -- but swallowed her again when times got too difficult.
It will, take every ounce of courage I have -- and likely the courage of my friends -- as I'm not sure I have enough to take all this on myself.
First on the list: removing the clutter, both physical and emotional.
And again, that voice, is in my head.
"Live simply so that others may simply live."
I'm not exactly sure where the voice is leading me -- but she was right about the gardening barefoot thing. So, I'm betting she's on to something again.
It happened last week, after a particularly long and emotionally frustrating day. I had found a lump in my left breast and the trip to the doctor and the subsequent mammogram were irritating. I knew the lump was likely nothing, but it scared me. On top of it, my husband was, well, less than supportive.
I was mad, scared and frustrated at the direction my life was taking. I needed to work in my garden. I had just been watered and parts of it were muddy. I was getting more and more frustrated with losing my shoes in the mad and I had this nagging voice in my head. "Take off your shoes." Connect with the mud, the earth the dirt. Find your core in the mud."
At first, I was not in the mood to hear this. So in my frustration, I answered back. Sweat starting to sting my eyes and all, this is what I said:
"I don't want to step on a sticker. I don't want to get poked by a rock. I don't want mud between my toes. I want my husband to be a man. I want this lump to go away. I want my days to go as I plan and not keep getting interrupted. And you, you stupid voice, need to shut the fuck up."
But the voice was still there. With each weed I bent over to pull, it got louder.
Finally, I threw my shoes off and let my feet sink into the mud.
It felt great. Really great.
And very, very peaceful.
Now, with every step into the dirt and mud, I started to relax.
I felt centered.
It occurred to me that I not felt like this in a very long time.
So it started down a path of deep soul -- or sole :-) -- searching. I rarely feel like I fit in anywhere. I am not happy in my personal life and I want to make some big changes. Right now there seems so much to do. However, before I can make any changes. I need to break some old patterns. Self destructive, self pitying road blocks that I have consistently allowed to stop me. I think I'm afraid of success. Though I'm not entirely sure why.
There is comfort in the chaos I have created in my life. Excuses.
It's sooooooo much easier to blame the situation or others for not meeting my goals.
But before I can expect change in others, I have to change myself. And somewhere, somehow (and with the help of all of you) I have to find the courage to move past the obstacles that have, in the past, stopped me.
I have to unleash my inner Diva. The person without fear, without concern of what others think. The person who speaks and walks confidently toward any chosen destination. I've lost her -- buried her under disappointment and loss and disillusion. I have slowly uncovered her from time to time in recent years -- but swallowed her again when times got too difficult.
It will, take every ounce of courage I have -- and likely the courage of my friends -- as I'm not sure I have enough to take all this on myself.
First on the list: removing the clutter, both physical and emotional.
And again, that voice, is in my head.
"Live simply so that others may simply live."
I'm not exactly sure where the voice is leading me -- but she was right about the gardening barefoot thing. So, I'm betting she's on to something again.
First an explanation
I'm sorry I haven't been posting more often! I'm having computer problems... I'm working on it!
K
K
Sunday, June 21, 2009
And the scale calls my name...
There are so many things to catch all of you up on -- not sure where to even start.
My daughter and I spent a week in Puerto Rico (with a school tour group) and it was amazing. Spending time with her was such a treat and it was fascinating to see her reaction to the sights and sounds of another culture.
For the first time in her life she was approached by a beggar and saw homeless in the streets. She is such a kind hearted and deep soul, these events made a significant impact and I think she's still processing everything. I tried to use it as a reason to count her blessings and I think she'll do that.
We had an opportunity to snorkel in the Carribean and float with bioluminescent plankton. For a while we floated hand in hand and I hope I never ever lose that connection with her. She's at such an amazing age right now -- just coming into her own -- developing opinions and personality. As we floated with our ears in the water listening to dolphins click and watching the stars on a moonless night I couldn't help but hope the moment would never end -- that she would always be willing to hold my hand in the dark. But I know in a matter of months she will grow beyond needing her mother. I know it's the goal; make our children indepedent -- but there will be always a part of me that wants to feel of her small hand in mine.
----more on Puerto Rico later ---
The thing I love about snorkeling and am loving more and more about swimming is that size doesn't matter. A few years ago, I would have never had the guts to swim, much less snorkel, because I was under the impression I was too fat to exist.
(I can't believe I was that silly)
Once my kids started to get more active I couldn't stand the thought to being a sideline mom -- I never wanted to be the mom sitting next to the pool not wanting to get her hair wet -- or not wanting to be seen in my swimming suit. I will not be putting my life on hold not now -- not ever.
So a few years ago I conquer my fear of water and getting my head wet to snorkel for the first time. It was amazing.
When you're floating in the ocean with a snorkel mask on your face, you have to relax. You have to breathe. You have to be in balance with your surrounding. My weight didn't matter, my ability to stay calm and peaceful matters. It was incredibly freeing.
Last week, while floating in the Carribean, I had to again remind myself to relax, believe in myself and allow my body to float in the salty water. I saw amazing and beautiful fish and plant life. When I allowed my self to be free it allowed me to enjoy an experience that I would never have had.
It was, however, in contrast to how I felt the rest of the week. The humidity of Puerto Rico took a huge toll on my energy levels. On our first full day on the island, we hiked through a rain forest. I had thought that my morning walks had prepared me for the walk as it was only about a mile or so -- (at least that's what they said) --but the humidity and more of an incline than I'm used to about did me in! While I completed the hike, I kept beating myself up for being so out of shape. I didn't give myself any credit for jet lag, the humidity or the fact I hung back just a little to help a friend. From about that point on, everytime, I looked in the mirror I only saw my enlarged tummy. I only saw puffy feet -- swollen to the size they were when I was 8 months pregnant. I didn't give myself any credit for being on my feet the majority of the day, the long bus rides, the humidity or the salty food we were consuming regularly.
Before I'd left home, I was feeling pretty good about myself. My strike against obsessing about my weight was working pretty well. I bought new skorts and I'd swear they felt more comfortable than the last time I bought clothes. For some reason, while in Puerto Rico, I fell back into old patterns of obsessing about how I looked and why I looked that way.
Back at home, those feeling have subsided. I have to admit, however, that each time I enter the bathroom the scale seems to call my name. Here's what it says:
"Just step on and check in. You've been working very hard and it would be good to check in to see if you really should feel better. We won't know until we see the numbers. Just step on and find out if you are doing as well as you think."
Now why on earth do we do this to ourselves?! Why do the numbers on the scale mean anything? Why do I and countless people like me judge health on numbers on a stupid little machine instead of what's in our heart, how we feel or the choices we make each day?
When I started my strike a few weeks ago, I really thought it would be easy, but I've found its very difficult. What I do know, is that in those moments when I do allow myself to be free are some of the greatest moments. The trick, as the strike continues, it to turn those moments into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days.
I'd really like to hear how other strikes are going -- please comment and let me know if you're struggling or thriving? (or a little bit of both)
My daughter and I spent a week in Puerto Rico (with a school tour group) and it was amazing. Spending time with her was such a treat and it was fascinating to see her reaction to the sights and sounds of another culture.
For the first time in her life she was approached by a beggar and saw homeless in the streets. She is such a kind hearted and deep soul, these events made a significant impact and I think she's still processing everything. I tried to use it as a reason to count her blessings and I think she'll do that.
We had an opportunity to snorkel in the Carribean and float with bioluminescent plankton. For a while we floated hand in hand and I hope I never ever lose that connection with her. She's at such an amazing age right now -- just coming into her own -- developing opinions and personality. As we floated with our ears in the water listening to dolphins click and watching the stars on a moonless night I couldn't help but hope the moment would never end -- that she would always be willing to hold my hand in the dark. But I know in a matter of months she will grow beyond needing her mother. I know it's the goal; make our children indepedent -- but there will be always a part of me that wants to feel of her small hand in mine.
----more on Puerto Rico later ---
The thing I love about snorkeling and am loving more and more about swimming is that size doesn't matter. A few years ago, I would have never had the guts to swim, much less snorkel, because I was under the impression I was too fat to exist.
(I can't believe I was that silly)
Once my kids started to get more active I couldn't stand the thought to being a sideline mom -- I never wanted to be the mom sitting next to the pool not wanting to get her hair wet -- or not wanting to be seen in my swimming suit. I will not be putting my life on hold not now -- not ever.
So a few years ago I conquer my fear of water and getting my head wet to snorkel for the first time. It was amazing.
When you're floating in the ocean with a snorkel mask on your face, you have to relax. You have to breathe. You have to be in balance with your surrounding. My weight didn't matter, my ability to stay calm and peaceful matters. It was incredibly freeing.
Last week, while floating in the Carribean, I had to again remind myself to relax, believe in myself and allow my body to float in the salty water. I saw amazing and beautiful fish and plant life. When I allowed my self to be free it allowed me to enjoy an experience that I would never have had.
It was, however, in contrast to how I felt the rest of the week. The humidity of Puerto Rico took a huge toll on my energy levels. On our first full day on the island, we hiked through a rain forest. I had thought that my morning walks had prepared me for the walk as it was only about a mile or so -- (at least that's what they said) --but the humidity and more of an incline than I'm used to about did me in! While I completed the hike, I kept beating myself up for being so out of shape. I didn't give myself any credit for jet lag, the humidity or the fact I hung back just a little to help a friend. From about that point on, everytime, I looked in the mirror I only saw my enlarged tummy. I only saw puffy feet -- swollen to the size they were when I was 8 months pregnant. I didn't give myself any credit for being on my feet the majority of the day, the long bus rides, the humidity or the salty food we were consuming regularly.
Before I'd left home, I was feeling pretty good about myself. My strike against obsessing about my weight was working pretty well. I bought new skorts and I'd swear they felt more comfortable than the last time I bought clothes. For some reason, while in Puerto Rico, I fell back into old patterns of obsessing about how I looked and why I looked that way.
Back at home, those feeling have subsided. I have to admit, however, that each time I enter the bathroom the scale seems to call my name. Here's what it says:
"Just step on and check in. You've been working very hard and it would be good to check in to see if you really should feel better. We won't know until we see the numbers. Just step on and find out if you are doing as well as you think."
Now why on earth do we do this to ourselves?! Why do the numbers on the scale mean anything? Why do I and countless people like me judge health on numbers on a stupid little machine instead of what's in our heart, how we feel or the choices we make each day?
When I started my strike a few weeks ago, I really thought it would be easy, but I've found its very difficult. What I do know, is that in those moments when I do allow myself to be free are some of the greatest moments. The trick, as the strike continues, it to turn those moments into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days.
I'd really like to hear how other strikes are going -- please comment and let me know if you're struggling or thriving? (or a little bit of both)
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Moving on?
Just right this minute I made a decision.
As I was opening this window to write, it came to me.
I'm going on strike. Taking a stand. Hanging my head out the door and shouting, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore."
From June 1 to Sept. 1, I'm not going to worry about my weight. I'm just not going to do it anymore. I can feel weight lifting from my shoulders as I type these words.
You know, if people spent as much time trying to -- oh I don't know -- end world hunger as they do worrying about their weight and appearance, there just wouldn't be any world hunger. We'd probably have peace and and end to poverty.
I'm going to challenge everyone in my life to take 90 days off. Spend the time you would normally spend worrying about how "fat" you are (even though you're probably not fat) and do something else. Read a book. Volunteer at the local library. Find something, anything that brings you joy and do it.
Here's the catch: you have to check in with me weekly and tell me what you've been up to. Leave it as a comment or something or send me an e-mail and I'll post it here.
Feel the freedom. Wow --
Ok -- Now having paranoid thoughts. Can I really do this? I've tried it before, but always fall back into old destructive patterns. It's going to take a team effort folks. We must keep reminding each other to stay on the freedom path.
Oooh! Let's make it a movement -- let's spread the word to our friends and families. For 90 days don't worry about your weight. Stop comparing yourself to other people -- especially their appearance. Just be who you are and be comfortable with it. Bless you body by doing something that you enjoy that is physical, if you can. Don't put anything in your mouth unless it really blesses you. If that piece of chocolate makes you happy, and you're hungry, enjoy it. Allow yourself to live in joyful peace with your body and food.
This is not forever -- you can back to judging yourself by what it says on the scale in September.
In the meantime, how cool would it be if we all judged our self by what we DID instead of how we looked? What if your self worth was connected to our true spirit instead of our pants size?
Dang -- this might be fun.
Let me know what you think!
As I was opening this window to write, it came to me.
I'm going on strike. Taking a stand. Hanging my head out the door and shouting, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore."
From June 1 to Sept. 1, I'm not going to worry about my weight. I'm just not going to do it anymore. I can feel weight lifting from my shoulders as I type these words.
You know, if people spent as much time trying to -- oh I don't know -- end world hunger as they do worrying about their weight and appearance, there just wouldn't be any world hunger. We'd probably have peace and and end to poverty.
I'm going to challenge everyone in my life to take 90 days off. Spend the time you would normally spend worrying about how "fat" you are (even though you're probably not fat) and do something else. Read a book. Volunteer at the local library. Find something, anything that brings you joy and do it.
Here's the catch: you have to check in with me weekly and tell me what you've been up to. Leave it as a comment or something or send me an e-mail and I'll post it here.
Feel the freedom. Wow --
Ok -- Now having paranoid thoughts. Can I really do this? I've tried it before, but always fall back into old destructive patterns. It's going to take a team effort folks. We must keep reminding each other to stay on the freedom path.
Oooh! Let's make it a movement -- let's spread the word to our friends and families. For 90 days don't worry about your weight. Stop comparing yourself to other people -- especially their appearance. Just be who you are and be comfortable with it. Bless you body by doing something that you enjoy that is physical, if you can. Don't put anything in your mouth unless it really blesses you. If that piece of chocolate makes you happy, and you're hungry, enjoy it. Allow yourself to live in joyful peace with your body and food.
This is not forever -- you can back to judging yourself by what it says on the scale in September.
In the meantime, how cool would it be if we all judged our self by what we DID instead of how we looked? What if your self worth was connected to our true spirit instead of our pants size?
Dang -- this might be fun.
Let me know what you think!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Memories of me
It's Memorial Day.
We've spent the day with family. Very nice. Very blessed.
As the "unofficial start" of summer, I often spend this weekend contemplating the summer's activities. How can I work as much fun into the summer as possible? Can I get all the projects done I'd like to get done? How can I use this unstructured time to its highest potential?
I might spend an hour or a day planning, fussing, contemplating -- but is it worth it all?
Would it be better to just take each day as it comes and not get over planned?
Is there a balance?
The last couple of summers have been difficult at best. I have a good feeling about the coming season and don't want to get any more overcommitted than I normally am. There's so many things I want to do -- projects to finish, adventures to share and as usual I'm having a hard time controlling my ADD. I want to do it all. Do it well. Do it now.
So I spent the better part of the weekend nestled on the deck of our cabin in the woods and lost myself in a book. I decided distraction would be the best way to avoid over planning.
I am aware that I can set myself for disappointment -- usually by trying to get more done in a day than most people get done in a week. Then, wondering why I'm not getting all the items on my "to do" list done.
If I could just relax this summer -- do the things that bring me joy -- wouldn't that allow me to get the best of my "to do" items done? Wouldn't that allow me to do so without killing myself and making those around me crazy?
Here's the problem -- I suck at that.
I thrive on chaos. I keep reminding myself about my "Opposite Day" plan. Surley, somewhere inside me is the ability to embrace the "now" to do the things that bless me and not those which only feed my ego and the chaos!
Here's what I know -- in those moments when I have, in fact, allowed myself to pursue joy and follow my bliss -- great things have happened. I've felt great -- doors opened to new opportunity -- and then -- I can't really put my finger on what happens... I stop.
It's as though I have a fear of success.
I used to think the fear came being afraid I'd raise expectations -- and then not be able to live up to those expectations -- but these days I'm not so sure.
After all of this time -- all the things I've been through in the last few years -- could it be I'm still not comfortable enough in my own skin to allow myself to just ...be ... me?
Sometimes I wonder if it's my marriage -- which is never very stable. My husband does, indeed, make me crazy.
But I keep thinking I can rise above that discomfort -- I want to exist outside of his expectations or anyone elses for that matter.
Are my own expectations too high -- is it me self sabbatoging?
What would be so wrong - what's there to fear about being me?
We've spent the day with family. Very nice. Very blessed.
As the "unofficial start" of summer, I often spend this weekend contemplating the summer's activities. How can I work as much fun into the summer as possible? Can I get all the projects done I'd like to get done? How can I use this unstructured time to its highest potential?
I might spend an hour or a day planning, fussing, contemplating -- but is it worth it all?
Would it be better to just take each day as it comes and not get over planned?
Is there a balance?
The last couple of summers have been difficult at best. I have a good feeling about the coming season and don't want to get any more overcommitted than I normally am. There's so many things I want to do -- projects to finish, adventures to share and as usual I'm having a hard time controlling my ADD. I want to do it all. Do it well. Do it now.
So I spent the better part of the weekend nestled on the deck of our cabin in the woods and lost myself in a book. I decided distraction would be the best way to avoid over planning.
I am aware that I can set myself for disappointment -- usually by trying to get more done in a day than most people get done in a week. Then, wondering why I'm not getting all the items on my "to do" list done.
If I could just relax this summer -- do the things that bring me joy -- wouldn't that allow me to get the best of my "to do" items done? Wouldn't that allow me to do so without killing myself and making those around me crazy?
Here's the problem -- I suck at that.
I thrive on chaos. I keep reminding myself about my "Opposite Day" plan. Surley, somewhere inside me is the ability to embrace the "now" to do the things that bless me and not those which only feed my ego and the chaos!
Here's what I know -- in those moments when I have, in fact, allowed myself to pursue joy and follow my bliss -- great things have happened. I've felt great -- doors opened to new opportunity -- and then -- I can't really put my finger on what happens... I stop.
It's as though I have a fear of success.
I used to think the fear came being afraid I'd raise expectations -- and then not be able to live up to those expectations -- but these days I'm not so sure.
After all of this time -- all the things I've been through in the last few years -- could it be I'm still not comfortable enough in my own skin to allow myself to just ...be ... me?
Sometimes I wonder if it's my marriage -- which is never very stable. My husband does, indeed, make me crazy.
But I keep thinking I can rise above that discomfort -- I want to exist outside of his expectations or anyone elses for that matter.
Are my own expectations too high -- is it me self sabbatoging?
What would be so wrong - what's there to fear about being me?
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Terra Therapy
Hello all --
I've been working a project for http://www.swap-bot.com -- actually several. As part of one swap, I'm keeping a journal which I will send to a swap partner next month.
Thought I'd share it with you... just for fun.
Saturday May 16, 2009
I got hurdled by a lamb this morning.
Thus began a crazy, busy day.
I got up early to put the finishing touches on some petit fours I made for a Girl Scout tea party. I’d always seen them in magazines, but I’ve never actually made them. I was quite impressed with myself.
The kids had to load up their 4-H animals. My oldest daughter has a dairy calf project, my other daughter has two lambs. They’ll raise them until late July, when they’ll be sold at the county fair and the records and books they are keeping will be judged in competition with other kids. The calf is fairly tame and easy to maneuver on a halter. The same holds true for one of the lambs – named Hailey. The other lamb is smart and ornery. For the last ten days this lamb, named Janel, has managed her way out of harnesses, escaped capture at all turns and in general tried my patience at every level.
This morning, the lamb and I were going to come to terms. My daughter and I developed a plan. She would walk the lamb into the barn, I would corner it, and get a new harness on her. The plan worked pretty well, at first. My daughter walked Hailey the lamb into the barn. Janel knew something was up. She kept bleating and willingly followed my daughter into the barn. I thought we had her. I hunched down to catch her. The lamb took one look at me and leapt over me.
Only I would get hurdled by a lamb.
Eventually, I did catch her and she along with the calf and other lamb got hauled down to the fairgrounds for a preliminary weigh-in.
Then, off to the Girl Scout Tea Party. Last year, I expected 30 people and 100 people showed up. This year, I prepared for 100 and 30 people showed up. Go figure.
In general, though I think it was a nice event. I think I’m going to create a board of directors for the Girl Scout troop. I don’t think the adult women in this community feel like there’s enough opportunities to mentor young women. The willingness is there, but no formal structure. Will work on that over the summer.
Left the party in a mad dash to pick up my son from Farm Safety Camp. Thankfully my sister met me part of the way. Turned around to drive the 35 minutes home to meet my sister-in-law and her family. She was dropping of her son for the week. My husband decided to go to some stupid Extreme Fighting event early. He stayed until I got home – must have got the message I wasn’t impressed with his decision to leave before I got home and while his sister was visiting. Perhaps it was when I screamed into the phone and hung up.
Took the kids out for Mexican food, then back home for a movie. I chatted on line with friends till the weeee hours of the morning. I’m so thankful for old friends… and for facebook … the comfort of cherished friends is such a tremendous blessing.
May 17.
Woke up without power. When the power goes out I have no water. I can cook because I have a gas stovetop. But you can’t wash your hands, flush the toilet – it’s like camping.
The power stayed off until 11 so we passed the time by working in the garden and yard. I came to the conclusion that gardening must be a lot like raising children.
You work the soil – adding positive elements like fertilizer and additional soil when needed. You til and til and til until it’s ready for planting. Then you carefully plant seeds and water and care for those seeds until they’re ready for harvest.
I’m not anywhere near done raising my kids – but I find I’m in the improving the soil phase. I’m adding things here and there to improve my seedlings chance for survival. Books I think they’d love. Family vacations. Meals around the table.
The garden provides a quicker return. Just as I’m fascinated by the evolution of the plants from seed to table – I’m so enjoying watching my children as their personalities really start to take shape.
This year has been pretty incredible so far – I feel like I’m closer and closer to being comfortable in my own skin. I think the garden’s going to play a role in that – if I let it. I’m calling it Terra Therapy and hoping that when each shovel full of soil turned over I’ll find a part of myself. Something hidden beneath a crust that has been allowed to build over too many years of neglect and stain.
So far I’ve managed to till most of it – taking care to protect the onions which grew voluntarily – they were already there. In the morning I’ll rake a few more weeds away and begin planting. I’m nervous. Each year I try to garden and each year I fail.
Something about this year is different though. I’m not sure I could name the difference – but I feel it. I’m not secure in this thing yet – but it’s there.
In the same way, I’m feeling stronger about myself and where I belong. I’ve seen glimpses of this here and there along my journey, but have always returned to the safety of the known – the chaos that has ruled my life. But I can see growth on the horizon and anticipate a bountiful harvest.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Back in the saddle again
Ok -- so I fell off the Opposite Day wagon.
It's seems I leaped off the Opposite Day wagon and jumped right on the self sabotage express.
Uggh.
Don't you ever wish that you'd wake up one morning and you'd just get "it". That colossal "IT" -- the goal -- the you can take care of yourself and stop putting yourself on the backburner and do all the things you intended to do before some stupid switch clicked off in your brain and you -- oh, I don't know -- shoved copious amounts of food in your mouth or forgot to pay the bills (again) or forgot to pick up your son -- or whatever.
I have great ideas and pretty good intentions most of the time -- and then I get lost somewhere in the must do's and wannabe's of my life and I don't accomplish the simplest of goals.
"Write every morning" -- I oversleep, get sidetracked on Facebook, or realize I forgot something that "just has to be done right now" and I don't write, journal, blog or anything.
"Cut back on sugar" -- Are you kidding? Like a moth to a flame I can see and smell sugar at a distance and then can east huge portions -- even though I instantly have a headache and gut-ache and I KNOW I feel so much better when I eat sweets in moderation.
"Stop identifying myself as old and fat" -- It's a great excuse for not being myself right? If I comically complain that I'm old and fat -- then people don't assume I don't know what I look like. I make fun of myself before anyone else ever gets a chance, right? I can read your mind -- I know what you're thinking. You think I can't climb the stairs because I'm too fat to carry my carcass. It has nothing to do with the arthritis in my knees -- I probably got that because I'm fat anyway.
I don't know what it is sometimes -- what it is that causes me to act in a way I know doesn't work -- It's like I'm stuck in this victim role and I create situations in which I can be the victim of.... whatever....
But again -- if I can embrace my "opposite action philosophy" I know what that victim role feels like -- so, it would seem I could switch directions without too much confusion.
It's Mother's Day, so I got up early to write and the purging of the words in my head has lifted a bit of the pressure. So for today, I'm not going to be a victim of my thoughts.
I'll head the other direction and find a new path ... who wants to join me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
