Change Sneaks Up

Change arrives in nature when time has ripened. There are no jagged transitions or crude discontinuities. This accounts for the sureness with which one season succeeds another. It is as though they were moving forward in a rhythm set from within a continuum.

To change is one of the great dreams of every heart – to change the limitations, the sameness, the banality, or the pain. So often we look back on patterns of behavior, the kind of decisions we make repeatedly and that have failed to serve us well, and we aim for a new and more successful path or way of living. But change is difficult for us. So often we opt to continue the old pattern, rather than risking the danger of difference. We are also often surprised by change that seems to arrive out of nowhere. We find ourselves crossing some new threshold we had never anticipated. Like spring secretly at work within the heart of winter, below the surface of our lives huge changes are in fermentation. We never suspect a thing. Then when the grip of some long-enduring winter mentality beings to loosen, we find ourselves vulnerable to a flourish of possibility and we are suddenly negotiating the challenge of a threshold.

-John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us

Change is slow and fast at the same time. I search for change, long to be different, to be better, seemingly without any real results despite all my longing and striving. Then one day, I look up, and I’m called to do something I couldn’t have done five years ago, and somehow today, it is easy. The slow, slow progress comes to fruition in a single moment.

I’m bewildered by how different my reactions and inclinations have become in the last few years. Lately, I am faced with challenges that would have baffled me in the past, but on a daily basis, I now move easily through them. Something in me that I couldn’t see was changing, changing all the time.

Maybe I am more like nature than I think. In the natural world, vegetation naturally evolves from one state to the next. Every year, plants emerge, new and somehow ready for the brand new year ahead. They don’t know what the year will bring, but somehow, the vast majority of the landscape is completely ready for its challenges, better equipped than it would have been the year before. Nature feels the earth and moves with it. Something in me is dancing this dance, too.

My relationships with people have entirely changed, along with my orientation to work, music, spiritual practice, and family. Some changes are huge, and some are small. Most are indescribable with words. All I know is that when a challenging situation arises, I’m not sent into a frenzied state. I’m able to ask for help (more of the time). I know that everything will be okay.

Maybe that’s the miracle of time. The longer I live, the more chances I get to see things go wrong – and go right. And what do I learn from observing this? That the world keeps turning, people keep loving, lives keep moving. Life is okay. Things happen, and I deal with it. People deal with life, and we go on. Seeing our collective cycles of “dealing with it” adds a sense of calm to my life.

I’m not pretending that I don’t still freak out or have emotional upheavals. That’s simply my personality. But even my mood swings don’t perturb me the way they used to. I’m accustomed to the flow of life and of my emotions. The internal swings are less frightening and subside more quickly because I no longer increase their intensity with my extreme reactions and guilt.

I feel like I have been a child, learning all the basic things about simply living in a human body for so long. And now, I may not have learned all the lessons there are to learn, but I’ve learned quite a bit – enough that I’m ready for new challenges.  That’s a good feeling.

This stage of life is new to me – this feeling that I have truly learned something, without consciously learning it. So much of my education has been driven by concerted, organized effort, but this is something different. I will enjoy this feeling, even when life cycles back around to remind me that I am and will always be a beginner.

Some thresholds can only be crossed in one direction, and I’ve crossed something like that.

I think I can live better now. I think I can love better. And I am immensely grateful.

Use that Radio

I am not in this alone.  None of us are. 

In this new venture of self-employment, I sometimes feel like a sailboat out to sea.  I’m not a sailor, but I can imagine it would be pretty scary to ride the winds out into the middle of the ocean, until you can’t see any other ships, only to have the wind suddenly stop. Okay, the ride out there is great, but once you're there, what do you do?  Wait until the wind starts back up? What if it doesn't start blowing?  Do you get out oars and start paddling, even though you don't know exactly where the shore is?  What do you do?

Life feels lonely like that at times, mostly because I spent so long in a regular 9-5 world.  It’s fun, believe you me, to wake up each day and get to choose which projects to pursue, which avenue to search.  It’s like having that giant wind at my back, propelling me out into the ocean.  The possibilities are endless.  I am capable and confident that I will make this work, that new clients are coming, that I am going to make a new album, find a great place to live, and have all sorts of adventures along the way.

That wind keeps me moving, keeps me actively sailing. I stay preoccupied with the wind, managing the wind, enjoying the wind.  But then, periodically, the wind stops.  It’s a lot less fun out there on my own with no wind. When I get tired, or my mind starts playing discouraging loops, or I start believing old lies about how I never do anything well enough, I feel alone and momentumless.  It’s not that I lack hope; I just get tired. 

I have to rest sometimes; I know that. But I avoid rest because when I rest, fear bubbles to the surface.  I'm not alone in wanting to avoid this. Fear can paralyze, but it can also motivate. Today, I choose to use the energy of fear to fuel me moving forward. Fear can stop my motivational wind from blowing, leaving me feeling stranded. But if I can move past the fear, I think more clearly. I think of alternative solutions, or I might look and discover a backup motor on my boat to keep me going.

But what about when moving past the fear doesn’t work?  What about those times when I keep trying to work and only feel like I’m going in circles?  Although I don't always use it, I think I've figured out the secret: I reach out.

In my little, stalled boat, I use the radio.  Yes, the radio.  I ask other people what to do.  I ask for help.  That is the secret of success. Sailing solo is great, but I will never get anywhere without help. I have to ask other people how they run their businesses.  I need financial advice.  I need leads on new clients.

I saw a financial counselor last week, and our simple hour-long discussion gave me tools I certainly didn’t have before.  Some elements left me feeling a bit overwhelmed by all I have to do, but mostly, I felt empowered because at least I now know a few steps to takes.  I don’t have to do them tomorrow, but I can start thinking about it and planning for those steps so that I am ready to do them when they get here.

So many of us who strike out on our own have long histories of getting things done ourselves.  We have false notions that we should be able to do everything on our own, that it is a sign of weakness to ask for help. But frankly, how are we supposed to start up a wind on our own?  It’s impossible.  We need help to get to where we want to be. 

That’s what I’m doing, asking for help.  It’s essential.  You can do it, too.  No matter where you are in life, it’s always good to know how other people have tacked situations so that we can tackle them with as much information as possible.

After asking for help, my next step is trusting myself to act on that information in my own time.  I don’t have to implement everything today or follow the suggestions at all.  I can wait until the time is right and my heart knows exactly what is best for me.

Reach out today!  You won't regret it.

Sidetracked by Fear

I’ll admit it.  I got a little distracted this week, but I’ve nailed down the culprit: fear. In my first week of self-employment, I decided to pursue a job as an assistant. It was advertised as only around 10-15 hours per week, and even though the pay was minimal, it sounded good to have some sort of steady income on the side.

I interviewed for the position and was accepted, but after three days on the job—yes, three days—I realized that assisting is not my strong suit.

Besides the basic disconnect between my personality and everything an assistant should be, the entire time, I was thinking, “I need to be working on my own business.  I need to be growing my own client base.”  Even though my new boss had a lovely personality, explained things as best she could, and didn’t ask for too much, I couldn’t do it. I needed more time to get into the rhythm of my new life.

The honest truth is that I don’t know how much extra time I have. I’m working all the time, so it would appear that I have no extra hours to spend running errands at near-minimum wage. I could be spending a few hours finding clients who will pay my full fees instead of bringing only a handful of dollars home at a time, or I could be devoting energy to my true love: music.

But my client list is short and the gigs do not pay that much. It’s frightening. I have dozens of contacts, contracts with a number of different organizations, and no offers. I’m finding small projects, but I have to cross my fingers that I will continue to find more.  I’m getting more and more music gigs, which is fabulous, but I would prefer more paying ones. It’s rough. No wonder I reach out for the familiarity of a “regular” job.

Anyway, my side job cut into valuable morning creative hours and gave me such stress attacks that I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. I wanted to be there for my boss.  I really did.  But my heart was not there, and I felt overwhelmed by every aspect of assistantship. Being at someone’s beck and call is not my forte. When set on default, I’m a “my way or the highway” thinker who believes that she knows best in just about every situation. (I’m not saying that I think I am correct in this mindset or that I act on this mode of thinking most of the time, but it is my instinct to insist that I’m right.) Bottom line: If my kneejerk reaction to authority is “no way,” what am I doing trying to take orders for a living!? 

I quit.  For the second time this month, I quit.  It didn’t feel good.  I hated leaving my new boss in the lurch. But it’s what needed to happen. I have to follow my heart, which knows that I will get more business over time. I ended the job the best way I could, finished out my duties for the week, and went home to look for work.

My days are already filled with engagements and networking events and jobs that I need to concentrate on. I want to grow my own vision, not someone else’s, wonderful though it may be.

At the end of the day, I got back to my dream, to my vision, and to the challenge before me. I have to lay a strong foundation for my music and writing/editing business before I desperately reach out for new, “regular” jobs. I must let myself be free for a while. I am doing everything I need to do. No need to get distracted.  Keep walking forward. It will all work out… I’m choosing to believe that.

Things Are Going Well

I recognize that my writing has been sporadic lately. I haven’t had many pivotal insights of an impersonal quality lately. There’s nothing I could write at this moment that wouldn’t amount to bearing my soul more than I care to at this point. Suffice it to say that I highly recommend looking at the deepest roots of any issues you may have.  It may be painful, but it is worth it.

Over the past few weeks, I have been yelled at.  I have been protected.  I have been loved.  I have been scrutinized.  I have drawn closer to some people than I ever imagined, and I have found myself at a distance from people who once traveled very near to my heart.

It’s like waking up one day and realizing that I am a woman—an adult woman, not just a girl.  And more than that, I have grown into a woman I like—not a perfect woman or anyone I thought I’d be, but someone I enjoy.  There is no need to hate myself.  There is every reason to be patient. All women are still little girls in part.

If I could admonish you to anything, it would be to embrace love and to do the thing that scares you.  Those are the only two things I have found helpful in guiding my recent decision making: love and facing fear. 

Always face the fear.  You may have to cry the entire time, but face it and walk through it.  Love keeps you alive. 

Feels Like Falling

As I watch myself back on the video I am including in this entry, I am reminded of just how awkward watching myself perform is. I started to try to extract the audio so that I could avoid posting the visuals but ultimately decided that it wouldn't be worth the effort. Other people watch me perform all the time; I figure you can take it. But it's odd to see myself from another the other side of the stage.

Anyway, this song, "Falling," was written over a span of a few years. First, I only completed a chorus, until I forced myself to finish out a couple of verses and a bridge about a year and a half ago. I always disliked those verses. Parts of them were enjoyable, but as a whole, they were rather disappointing and, ultimately, annoying. I threw the song in the closet, never to be revisited. It was too painful to play the fun little chorus and then have to endure the awkward stanzas in between.

Nonetheless, the chorus stayed in my head, despite what I think is a soundly unpoetic hook. "Falling into a hole"? Really? But it turns out that that phrase describes exactly what I want it to describe. And this week, I revisited those verses and cleaned them up. Now, the song expresses something special, with pieces written over two years ago combined with what I feel today.

At first, I thought the song was about those moments in life when I feel like giving over to the eating disorder, when I want to let all of my neuroses, depression, and anything else "diseased" take over. I want to sink into bingeing or starving or reclusiveness during those times. The song seemed to center around those periods and the fear, sadness, and anxiety that accompanies them.

Over the years, however, I have observed that many times when I have the feelings I just described, I am not surrendering into the eating disorder. I am surrendering to my feelings. The song is about giving over to something entirely different. It's about a release that leads to something positive and healthy if I allow it to happen.

Participating in eating disorder behaviors is actually not anxiety-provoking at all. It's the feelings that surround it that send me into a tailspin, the feelings that make me turn to the behaviors, the feelings of guilt after I let my eating disorder run wild. All of those emotions cause fear. Disordered behaviors mask emotion and authentic truth.

The most potent feelings of helplessness I've ever experienced have been related to the moments when I allow myself to feel instead of participate in my eating disorder. It's overwhelming to feel incredibly sad, confused, or lonely. The intensity of my need for alone time frightens me at times and feels dangerous, even though it may ultimately be healthy.

Now, I've learned that it's okay to sink now and then into despair. I always reemerge. It's okay to spend introspective time alone for long stretches. Likewise, it's perfectly fine to dismiss all of my obsessive thoughts and do FUN things, even when there are certain tasks I feel I HAVE to accomplish. It's okay to go out and waste time alone or with others, even when laundry or other obligations loom. It's okay to come home from work and relax instead of pay my bills immediately.

Nonetheless, all of the "necessary" tasks generally need to be completed, and knowing this can result in incredible anxiety and indecisiveness. It's hard to let myself be. But it's necessary. It's essential to let go of everything sometimes and allow life to flow through me. I may cry, I may laugh, I may shut the blinds for a while and revel in solitude. The more I can associate these activities with things other than the eating disorder, the easier it is to do them without guilt. I can enjoy myself without food (even though I can also enjoy myself with it). I can feel sad and not try to shove it away with a binge or an eight mile run.

I can surrender to my intuition and do what I feel instead of what I think I should do. The release is scary sometimes and feels like falling without a net.

Those are the thoughts for today, accompanied by "Falling," the little song I'd like to share with you today. All my best ~

The Small Stuff

Sometimes, a small change does the trick. Sometimes, you only need a baby step. Creativity queen SARK would call it a “micromovement.” Just do the tiniest part of a thing—and then stop. You don’t have to do any more. You can continue if you want, but you don’t have to.

I’m practicing this now, with this very blog. At the moment, I am not resorting to small-stepping for lack of motivation, but for lack of time. I need (and desire) to eat dinner and finish other things, but I want to get some thoughts down, too. So I’m writing at least a portion of this blog first, urging us all to celebrate the little accomplishments in our lives before moving on.

Every tiny action we take leads to the fulfillment of a greater goal, just as even the shortest sentences, put together, create an entire blog. The achievement of the goal needn’t be elevated above all the steps it took to get there. The pieces make the whole.

When the whole overwhelms us, it’s time for tiny movements. And I disallow the berating of ourselves for only making a small movement! Be proud. A little is more than nothing.

Sometimes, when unmotivated, I have to give myself a break and let the laziness or apathy run through me, absolutely embracing the doing of nothing. Then, the motivation mysteriously returns on its own. On the other hand, when chronic procrastination or lack of enthusiasm sticks like a cold I want to kick, I can often peer into my heart and find one small thing I don’t feel so apathetic toward. Completing that one item often gears me up to do another or satisfies me enough that the guilt over my inaction dissipates. In the midst of general indifference, something usually sparks a passion—even if only a fleeting passion—when I search for it.

By taking the steps I want to take as I am motivated to take them, I buck what I think society or other people think is best. I tend to harbor little boundaries or schemas of how things “should” be done in my subconscious. I act and face challenges based on those lies sometimes. Of course I’m not going to want to follow a method or live up to a standard that seems unfair! If a project seems too terrible to begin, it’s usually because I have pre-formed some idea of how it has to be done or what the finished product needs to be. Investigation of that idea often reveals it to be founded in fear or carried over from childhood along with all sorts of other fantasies that don’t actually correspond with reality.

Examine the boundaries you’ve put in place or the rules you think must be adhered to. Maybe those boundaries and rules are helpful. Maybe they are not. Are they even realistic? More than likely, they help at times and hinder in other instances. After identifying boundaries or rules that seem like lies, break a couple of them. Feel liberated, knowing that you can retreat to the safety of those boundaries at any time.

Moving at our own pace, according to beliefs that coincide with our authentic selves, allows us a kind of freedom that removes the need to rebel against external standards. If we are operating according to rules and notions that help us ad reflect life as it truly is, the boundaries of work and law and time don’t seem so oppressive. We can see what needs to be obeyed and what can be fudged or abandoned. When we have opened enough doors to satisfy our naturally roaming, exploring, inquisitive natures, a few padlocks don’t seem so harsh. Perhaps they can even be unlocked later, when we’re done running wildly through the worlds we’ve already made available.

Tasks we had trouble starting because it seemed like they “had” to be done or “should” be completed in a certain fashion aren’t so difficult to begin when external measurements fade in importance. We can tackle challenges and responsibilities freely, at our own pace, with an outcome that may not match other people’s standards or even our own initial impulses. This is the power of allowing (and appreciating) small steps and investigating the validity of our beliefs and standards.

So take a small step today; move into action, even if for only half a second. Then, take a rest. Check out Planet SARK for ideas. Use tiny things to your advantage, from the small steps you make to the tiny changes in your routine that keep you alive. The smallest change can make the most surprising difference. A little reminder from me to you…and me.

(See, all those sentences really add up!)

When Do I Need a Swift Kick in the Pants?

Where is the balance between honoring feelings and pushing boundaries? I often feel resistance toward doing certain things. Sometimes, I’m caring for myself by recognizing the resistance and saying no to the activities or behaviors in question. Other times, I push through the resistance, do the thing, and end up with a fantastic sense of accomplishment. How do I know when to push and when to let myself be?

I suspect that the answer has something to do with investigating the motives underneath the resistance. Why do I not want to try this activity, be with this person, or start this task? Am I afraid of something? Is this an instinctual hesitancy? Are my beliefs about this situation true? Am I resisting this thing just because of the unknown? Am I honestly tired now or not equipped for this? Do I really want to do this or not?

Those are some of the questions I could ask. And I could do the same when I feel enthusiastic about doing certain things. Sometimes, I life turns out better when I put the brakes on and consider why I’m running to do something. However, I’m less likely to advocate the slower pace when it comes to enthusiasm. It’s rare that I get overwhelmingly excited about something, so I generally feel that it’s okay to go with the flow when I experience a rush of that sort.

Still, it can be worthwhile to ask whether or I’m enthusiastic about something because it’s a comfortable habit or because I genuinely want to be involved with that thing or person. Is this really enthusiasm, or is it a rush to get things done? Am I in touch with my true feelings right now?

However, even as I write this, I wonder where the balance lies. I’m not sure if I can tell where my resistance comes from. Could it be that I don’t want to give up a habit or that I truly don’t want to do that thing or go to that place or have contact with that person? Can my desires lead me astray? I suppose they can when I’m not in touch with their underpinnings.

To get in touch—now there’s a goal. I still advocate doing the harder or scarier (more-faith-required) thing when faced with tough choices, but I also don't want to neglect feelings that could have a firm foundation.

In any case, good luck seeking balance, my friends. It’s a lifelong journey!

Transplantation

We bid a fond farewell today to our dear friend the narcissus plant. It taught me many valuable lessons, but as its little red pot proved insufficient for long-term growth, its flowers faded. I considered finding a place to transplant it outside but could never locate a prime spot. Plus, I’m not a big fan of dirt in general. Mud in between my toes—yes. Dirt in the typical gardening sense—no.

Part of the joy was seeing it every day, thriving in my apartment, in its bed of rocks. Therefore, I am now considering creating a larger rock garden. If I can avoid the nuisance of soil, I can do it. But we shall see.

The narcissus plant simply got too big for its container. It was time to move on, and that’s exactly the way I feel personally. There are patterns of behavior I’ve been involved with for a while that I no longer find attractive. I’m ready to let go and allow myself to experience fullness and rest while also going out a little more than I have been. I’m moving on. I don’t have to force it. It’s just time, and I will do the little things I can to live differently each day. Time for me to find a bigger container for all the lessons I’ve been learning.

The big life. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. Every time I think I’ve reached it, I discover that I can go somewhere even more expansive.

Right now, though, I will confess some anxiety over my financial situation and my physical situation. It’s time to get enough food and rest but also make sure ends meet. I’m handing this over to a higher power for now, trusting that everything is okay right now, I’m doing the best I can to ensure relative stability, and the future will be okay, too.

I know that many of you are also feeling the crunch of tough economic times, and I want you to know that I’m with you. Others are in the midst of eating disorders and addictions with no out in sight. Believe me, I have come face-to-face with the reality of how much I still struggle with food, exercise, and body size. These things need to be dealt with, no matter how strongly I feel I should have said goodbye to them long ago.

Don’t let pride stop you from asking for help in areas where you may need it. Areas I like to think I can totally control are the most difficult to expose. I hope that if I need assistance, I will be able to admit it. For me, just writing that I have fears in the financial and eating disorder areas counts as a major step.

Like I said, I’m moving on to a bigger container, one that can hold my anxiety, my basic eating disorder-related fears, all that I am learning, and all the new experiences and relationships that lie ahead. I may be frightened now, but part of me is also courageous and ready for anything. Life has always worked out in the past, and it will work out now—better than I could dream. That’s true for you, too!

A Perfect Day

What is a perfect day? What would it take to create that kind of day? Could I recreate it over and over?

Naturally, the answers to these questions depend on a multitude of variables. Every day, the requirements change. Our goals change. Our circumstances change. There is no one perfect day. The potential "perfect" component combinations are infinite.

However, my most perfect days seem to be days when I start out wondering how I will make it through the day at all. Perhaps this is because, on those days, I consciously give over control to a higher power and recognize that I cannot determine the ultimate outcome of that day. I ask myself what would constitute a failed day and usually come up empty. Ultimately, it doesn't matter what happens. It's never the end of the world. I'm not out detonating nuclear bombs or anything.

I think one of my main problems is the over-importance I place on my life in general. I give it so much weight that it frightens me, as if my every move determined the course of the universe. And while my actions may have some effect on the universe, they more likely work within the context of a whole realm of other actions taking place everywhere else and as a result of the billions upon billions of things that occurred long before I ever existed on this planet. Things are moving along in the world, and it's rather arrogant to believe that I could have the power to throw the whole thing completely off-balance.

But wait! Can't I throw at least MY part of the world off-balance? And wouldn't that be scary?

Would it? Would it be so scary? Maybe things need to be thrown off every now and then.

Needless to say, the ingredients to a "perfect" day remain consistent: giving up control, relaxing, and doing WHAT I CAN (not things I WISH I could do). The best days are the ones that I let just be. And this is so hard for me to do...

Judgment has to be left by the wayside to create a perfect day. I have to stop second-guessing everything and allow my decisions to be my decisions. Things will get done. I can indulge. I can set schedules and plans. I can do whatever will be best in my life at the moment. I can try things. If it doesn't workout today, I can take notes so that I can make better choices in the future. It's okay to make mistakes. I am an aware person. I can learn from these things. No need to be afraid!

Holidays are the ideal times to test these ideas. I can create schedules if I want them or discard every routine, just to see what happens. I can set new standards or do things in different ways. There's usually a lot of time for reflection, so I can consider what I'm doing as I'm doing it. There may also be ample opportunities to celebrate and do new, interesting things. I can see how I react in situations with people I may have difficulty relating to and also get information from perspectives I do not typically access.

So, in conclusion, I am trying new things. I'm releasing some of my exercise and germ/health obsessions, or at the very least, I'm trying. I'm giving myself a chance to alter my patterns and ignore what others think about it while being open to unexpected wisdom. I can try to exist in a challenging location, away from home. Basically, I am encouraging myself to find home, wherever I am, maintaining openness to a concept of home that looks different than I initially imagined.

I am safe. I am at home...anywhere. A good mantra.

Ah, Weight - My Least Favorite Subject...

The company I work for kicked off a new weight loss program/competition today. What I heard from those who attended the kick-off meeting sounds mostly positive. This program appears to promote a healthy lifestyle rather than a flash-in-the-pan diet. Unfortunately, I still sense a clear focus on good vs. bad foods and a pressure to exercise that can turn unhealthy. Plus, the whole idea of competing to lose weight unnerves me. Such pressure, along with unknown, intangible standards of success!

Every body is different. Some people will be larger than others. Any time a program involves setting goal weights, etc., I get a bit leery. Yes, I understand that goals help us work toward achieving what we desire, but how does one determine his or her ideal weight other than by simply eating when hungry/stopping when full for an extended period of time? Sure, you can probably come up with a sensible 25 pound range or something, but… Ugh, the whole thing makes me nauseous.

I haven’t weighed myself in almost four years, and I have never missed it. Sure, it makes coming up with my current weight tough when I’m asked for it on driver’s license or other identification forms, but I usually just guess at something that seems right. I wouldn’t trade my peace of mind for anything. I refuse to measure myself according to a number like that.

When I last weighed myself (a few months after embarking on a new kind of recovery plan), I was much larger than I am now. Because of a doctor’s slip-up a couple of years ago, I do have some idea of where I stand weight-wise although I cannot remember the exact number she told me. Of course, as I bring that up, I have to tell the entire tale of that slip-up:

The doctor noticed that I had lost some weight over the year prior and wanted to congratulate me. I specifically noted my history of eating disorders on my paperwork, but apparently, she chose to ignore that. I’m grateful for the sentiment, I guess, but I didn’t really need to lose weight in the first place. The slight weight loss was simply due to consistently not bingeing and riding my bike a bit more. My question is: Why did no one congratulate me for gaining weight at times when that was necessary?

Anyway, the focus on weight and the notion that there is a “right” one concerns me. I long to stand up in my workplace and yell, “I hate diets!” I do. But yet, I am never sure how much to expose in the workplace. I still struggle some with food and exercise, and that has always held me back in terms of forthright participation in ED activism. Ultimately, though, who says I have to have “perfect” recovery before I can speak out? Me. I’m the only one.

I’m afraid that I will relapse and look like a fool if I am too open about my passion for eating disorder recovery. I’m afraid people will say, “It seems like she still has an eating disorder.” Right now, I want to ditch that fear. No one can take away the progress I have made. I will always have farther to go. I will always want to do better. But I can accept where I am right now and acknowledge how far I’ve come with a hardy pat on the back.

For anyone out there, you’ve come so far! Don’t hide it. Speak out. We’ll see if I’m able to in coming weeks. I have no idea how this workplace competition will affect me, but already, it makes me want to speak out and tell the story of body image from my perspective. More will be revealed…

From Letters to a Young Poet (Letter 8) - by Ranier Maria Rilke

I wanted to share with you all a passage that was given to me by a dear soul this weekend. It applies to my life and my latest experiments with living in remarkable ways. Enjoy!
~
We have no reason to harbor any mistrust against our world, for it is not against us. If it has terrors, they are our terrors; if it has abysses, these abysses belong to us; if there are dangers, we must try to love them. And if only we arrange our life in accordance with the principle which tells us that we must always trust in the difficult, then what now appears to us as the most alien will become our most intimate and trusted experience.

How could we forget those ancient myths that stand at the beginning of all races, the myths about dragons that at the last moment are transformed into princesses? Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.

So you mustn't be frightened, dear Mr. Kappus, if a sadness rises in front of you, larger than any you have ever seen; if an anxiety, like light and cloud-shadows, moves over your hands and over everything you do. You must realize that something is happening to you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. Why do you want to shut out of your life any uneasiness, any misery, any depression, since after all you don't know what work these conditions are doing inside you? Why do you want to persecute yourself with the question of where all this is coming from and where it is going? Since you know, after all, that you are in the midst of transitions and you wished for nothing so much as to change.

If there is anything unhealthy in your reactions, just bear in mind that sickness is the means by which an organism frees itself from what is alien; so one must simply help it to be sick, to have its whole sickness and to break out with it, since that is the way it gets better....

Lasagna - Multi-Layered, like Me!

I made myself lasagna tonight. Not a bad first attempt I must say, especially considering that I mishmashed different recipes together until I had included all the elements I enjoy. I'll use less tomato sauce next time (I tend to get overzealous with the 'mato - I love them so.), have a more compact layer of pasta/ricotta cheese/caramelized onions and mushrooms/pasta in the middle, and find a more inventive ricotta mixture.

I love to cook. People struggling with and recovering from eating disorders have a wide range of attitudes toward cooking. Some avoid it; others revel or even obsess over it. Although I didn't cook much during the midst of the disorder, I remember being quite the baker before. I made heavenly cakes, and still can. My ability to follow recipes to the letter leads to that. Perfectionism has a few advantages. Cooking, as opposed to baking, requires a bit more creativity, so I like doing both for different reasons. At this point, my relationship with this expressive art (as I do consider it) seems healthy.

I have endless patience while cooking because it is such a pleasant, meditative time. I love coming up with new, more colorful combinations or getting totally immersed in the execution of a challenging recipe. It's flat-out fun. Plus, I don't mind the taste too much either.

Confessedly, though, I haven’t been trying many new things in the past few years. I still question my ability to control myself around food, and planning meals often feels like obsessing. Plus, cooking can be a hassle I just don’t have time for. Check it out! I’m like everyone else, eating disordered or not.

Tonight was about stretching. I undertook a more involved recipe with a baking time that requires a span of time without eating between the actual assembly of the lasagna and the plating of it. I tend to start grazing while cooking and then just continue on into the meal once it's finished. (I'm great at 30-minute wonders.) But tonight I proved that I could complete a full preparation/cooking/plating cycle without getting full before mealtime. I decided what I wanted beforehand, shopped for the ingredients, prepped, cooked, and ate, all without feeling compulsive. I ENJOYED it. The recipe included challenging ingredients for me, so it stretched me a bit there, too.

In any case, I'm proud of this achievement. A lasagna, I know, simple. But I'd been wanting to do this for weeks, if not months. And lately, I'd been fantasizing about it more.

Usually, constant fantasizing about something means I need to look into what the obsession is about. Is the fantasy leading me somewhere good or somewhere harmful? For me, food fantasies can be either.

In this case, I shied away from the fantasy because preparing this kind of a meal (with lots of prep-work involved) requires an extended focus on food. And I don't need help focusing on food! I always fear that cooking that sort of meal will lead to an increased food obsession in me.

However, I am examining my food more closely lately and trying to take chances. By cooking what used to be a complete no-no food for myself, I worry that it might lead to a binge. However, the case more often than not lately has been that eating a fear food DECREASES my binge urges. It may increase my anxiety, but I usually am able to put the fork down. This is what happened tonight. I feel fine. I stopped. It tasted good, but the meal had a beginning and an end.

I am slowly dismantling the power my fear foods once held over me. After many successful lasagna meals and similar patterns with other fear foods, I know the reality and liberation that results from diminishing their stronghold. Reintroducing foods like lasagna takes a while, but I am usually able to succeed. In the beginning, I often try to make the food "safer" by choosing certain ingredients, or I'll make it myself before attempting it at a restaurant (or vice versa, depending on the nature of the fear). I usually freak out or stop short of eating enough to be satisfied a few times before I get really comfortable. But my comfort level with the food typically increases naturally. If I'm having difficulty getting over a specific one, I pray for moments when I'll be forced to stretch. Usually, I get what I ask for (a challenge from the universe I usually have to accept begrudgingly and with much fear).

This has only been possible in the last few years of recovery. For a long time, I felt no desire to include no-no foods in my diet. Eventually, though, I saw that my anxieties were inhibiting me. At parties, at restaurants, in moments when nothing was available but a fear food, I found myself weak and disappointed in myself. I decided that reintroducing these foods would enable me to feel freer about food and my body in general. I would also be more likely to get the amount of calories needed to sustain a healthy weight.

The urge to eat these foods has come back slowly, and I still display marked resistance to certain items. But countless foods have moved into my consciousness over the past few years, things I want to try. And by acting on those visions responsibly, instead of just ignoring them and starving or bingeing on “safe” foods, I have become a far healthier and more relaxed eater.

My fantasies typically guide me toward the next food or activity I want to try. Yes, I added activity. I follow this same pattern with anything I fear - or I try to. I decided a couple of years ago to start living based on faith instead of fear. A treasured friend once told me how she had started examining her decision-making process and day-to-day living by asking herself, "Am I acting out of faith or out of fear?" She decided to make choices that required faith instead of avoiding things that caused fear. I now challenge myself to the same test. Following faith has always acted in my favor.

I am not talking about rushing into rash actions simply to fly in the face of fear. When acting impulsively, reasonable caution can be mistaken for fear. To rebel against that caution is not the same as looking at a situation and determining what will take more faith.

Do I always choose the shaky path of faith, wading through a boggy field of fear? No. But I try to go that way.

Right now, I'm admittedly afraid. Eating the lasagna was an attempt at finding strength. Afterward, I feel content but also an undercurrent of trepidation. I don't want to start bingeing, gain too much weight, or sit here forever alone, eating lasagna… The fears run deep – to issues seemingly unrelated to food.

Why are these fears coming up? Well, I may address that in future posts, for lasagna is not the only fear-inducing fantasy I have actualized in the past few days. I broke up with my boyfriend - my best friend - last weekend.

To clarify, this was not a couple-month fling blown out of proportion by my romantic mind. We have been together long enough to develop something remarkably special. If anything was meant to be, we were.

Although I recognize that breakups are a typical kind of tragedy, it hurts and brings up many issues for me. I knew it needed to be done; the persistent fantasies of breaking it off indicated that. Nonetheless, making healthy choices can be difficult. Trusting myself to be alone can be difficult. To still love someone but not want to be with him anymore hurts, as I'm sure most of you know.

But that's for the next post. No doubt that I use food to express my feelings and care for myself. For now, let's just be proud of the lasagna-enjoyer over here!