Recovered - I love it

I’m listening to a YouTube video of shamanic drumming. Oh yeah, now I’m ready to write this blog post.

It’s strange to be a writer for so many years, to have always had so much to say, and to now feel nothing. Nothing’s knocking on the door, much less beating down the door to get said or written or sung. This is a strange feeling for me.

The plain and simple truth of it is that life is good now.  I feel recovered from the eating disorders. Thoughts sometimes enter my head like, “Oh, I’m definitely going to binge tonight,” or, “God, I really want to eat a ton right now.”  I’ll even occasionally eat more than I feel comfortable with. Sometimes, I obsess about exercise more than I would like to admit. But would I classify any of this as disordered? No. I honestly think I’m recovered.

I’m interested in reading Jenni Shaefer’s book Goodbye Ed, Hello Me, where she discusses being completely recovered. How has she dealt with this transition? It’s such a strange feeling to have had these thoughts and behaviors for so many years and to, now, not experience them in the same way.  I’m not sure if time has eliminated the thoughts and the desires or if I’ve learned new ways of dealing with the thoughts that have essentially neutralized their effect on me. Okay, maybe I am sure that it’s the latter, but I’m not negating the possibility that the universe is sending fewer of these distractors my way. Whatever the case may be, it’s a fantastic feeling.

It’s scary to come out and say in a public way that I am “recovered.” Our culture constantly repeats, “Pride cometh before the fall,” and with this, implies that saying, “I’m over this,” is a form of pride.

I don’t pretend I could never fall to the eating disorder again.  I don’t even claim to be totally free of unhealthy thoughts or feelings. However, I do feel like a completely different person, and in the last year or more, I have seen dozens, if not hundreds, of situations I thought for sure would “go ED” not go anywhere at all.  Those binges I think are going to happen… don’t happen. I go without exercising, and I don’t obsess about it.  I get back to it the next day I have a chance, and I do an exercise that’s fun. I don’t restrict my food. My weight sometimes goes up, sometimes goes down, and I’m fine.  I like my body.  I don’t hate myself.

If anything, I have an aversion to anything diet- or weight loss-related. That’s the one conspicuous remnant of this disease.  But it’s helpful. I don’t need to put myself in triggering conversations.  I don’t need to start believing that diets or obsessing about my body is okay.  That’s not healthy.

I’m glad to be away from it, and I don’t see myself going back into the ED any time soon.  I still want to help others dealing with these issues, but I’ve entered a new stage of life with much less drama involved.

I will admit that a major component in my most recent “up level” in recovery has been falling in love… and remaining in steadfast, true love for, well, eight months now. I’ve reached many plateaus on this 11+ year journey of recovery, but this has been one of the most interesting and satisfying. They always sneak up on me, these places where I feel steadier, more stable, and more insightful about myself and the world around me.  Love snuck up on me the same way.

Lately, I’ve been reminded of Aimee Liu’s book Restoring Our Bodies, Reclaiming Our Lives, in which the only consistent factor in the lives of the “recovered” women she interviews seems to be that they eventually fell in love – usually with a person – but sometimes with a pursuit they love more than the eating disorder. 

It’s difficult to love anything more than an eating disorder. ED is powerful, comforting, and most of all, familiar. It takes a powerful love to transcend that. But all of these women had found something they wanted more than their EDs.

For a long time, I thought my great love would be music or writing or some kind of cause. But when I face facts, I don’t love music that much. I get lost in it.  I enjoy a state of flow when I’m in it. But no single thing was more appealing to me than sitting around and eating.  It took major life changes for me to find things I loved more than my eating disorder.  It turned out that a way of life was what I loved more than the ED.  I only made true progress when I started to see how I wanted to live my life. Once I truly defined my values and saw how much I loved life when it worked a certain way that I stopped doing behaviors that prevented me from having that kind of life.

I would slip and have tough times off and on. I probably will continue to experience these same ups and downs throughout my life. Every several months, I have to reorient myself to life so that I’m living in a truly whole way and not just according to some arbitrary routine I’ve developed.  I’ve learned to vary my schedule, change what I’m involved in, and basically live life differently very, very often. It’s when I get too mired in routine that the ED pops up. 

Of course, too much volatility in my life leads me to the ED, too.  So it’s all about finding balance. There is a level of change that stimulates but doesn’t overwhelm me.  I’m continually learning to find it.

I’ll tell you one thing, though: romantic love is the one sure-fire shakeup. You can’t count on it. You don’t know when it’s going to come. But when it comes, it makes life better.  At least, it does for me.  There are others who fall in love more easily and end up hurt by love a lot more often than I have in my life. Those people also enjoy more love-highs than I have. Meh, to each her own.

So here I am, in love – in real love – and also feeling very recovered. I’m in a good place. Before, I’ve been afraid to say out loud that I’m in a good place. I feel like it primes me for a fall. But thankfully, I now see that my psyche is not a mirror of the American consumer audience. My brain doesn’t have to behave like people who can’t wait for their favorite up-and-coming star to win a slew of major awards and then get thrown in jail for drug use or general stupidity. I don’t have to be on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop, worried that my success will be followed by an inevitable failure.

This society has blinded a lot of us to the generosity and beauty of human nature.  Many in America think human nature – or some external force in the world – wants nothing but to build people up and then tear them down. People even think life works that way– that what goes up must come down. Well, Earth may be governed by the law of gravity, but my heart and my life are different matters. I want me to succeed. I want other people to succeed.  I’ve seen people continue to climb and enjoy life more and more. I’ve seen people live beyond success and failure, beyond achievement or pursuit, beyond our definitions of what life should be. I want that. What happens when there is no “failure”? What happens when I just enjoy life as it is? What happens if I really don’t ever get sucked into the eating disorder again?

Sure, maybe I got some help from love in this latest stage of the journey. I used to think it was weak to need something like love to recover, but now I don’t care if I’m weak or strong. We all need love to be okay. We do. And frankly, it helps to have someone around when I get in a peculiar mood, someone who’s there when I might otherwise lock myself in my apartment and eat, someone who’s there to help me move on when I do eat too much or start obsessing about when I’m going to work out next. It helps to have someone I think about more than myself. When my heart opens up, I’m recovered, right then, right there.

I’ve been waiting for love. I’ve been thinking about it.  I was ready for it.  And I was a hell of a long way on my recovery journey already by the time it hit.

Honestly, I can’t even imagine what the next thing might be at this point. Like I said at the beginning of this article, I feel nothing. I feel content. I feel ambitionless.  But here’s a secret: my mind’s still trying to think of something new to do. Michelle isn’t done yet. I’m just learning to bask in contentment for a minute. Can I do it?

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. 

The Internet Is Not My Friend

The more I delve into this world of websites and blogs and Facebook pages and all the nonesuch that goes along with the virtual realm, the more I see that a virtual connection can never equal the connection I feel with a person one-on-one, in the flesh. It's nice to have contact with people I can't see or touch in the moment, but virtual interaction mostly feels like a teaser until I can actually see those individuals and wrap my arms around them.

Still, I love that I get to know so many of you through this blog and email.  I would never have met you otherwise!  Nonetheless, I'm encouraging everyone to go out and get a real hug today, from someone warm and living.  If people make you cringe today, find a pet!  If that is still too invasive for you, try a tree… or maybe just do some journaling to examine your resistance...

I send all my love to you but remind you all that the internet is not your friend; it is a means to connect with other people—friends, foes, and everything in between.  Friendship is the heart connection with others.  Don’t get trapped in thinking that connecting virtually is all there is.  A phone call, a random visit, a letter—these are all ways to reenter the world of flesh and blood interaction and experience how special it is.

I will not disparage virtual connections.  I love them and would not do without them.  But how can a computer compare to walking outside, under the trees, on a day as beautiful as this one in Houston, Texas?

So, once again, get out there and get your hug!  But become a fan of my Facebook page first ;) www.facebook.com/michellecowanonline

Safe Love

Where does love meet self-preservation? When does a relationship become too much for me? How do I balance my desire to help another with my own needs?

Some call it loving with limits. But for a romantic like me, who prefers a limitless view of love, it’s easier for me to call it loving safely.

Thinking about true love as a safe love helps me to not put up too-thick barriers of self-protection. I don’t have to be in defense mode all the time, on guard against all the people that could potentially hurt me. Relationships are complicated and difficult. I’m going to get hurt occasionally. I don’t want to hang myself up on that reality and block myself off from deep connection in an attempt to ward off pain.

Instead of living a mistrustful life and avoiding any potential complications, I can enter into relationships with open eyes and make decisions based on the safety of everyone involved. If I start realizing that I don’t have the internal or external resources to deal with the issues someone else brings into my life, I need to back off and/or tell the other person that it has become too much for me. I have to be even more in touch with myself than with the other person.

When I think about my relationship choices in terms of safety, backing off, breaking up, or having difficult conversations seem like less hurtful actions. I’m not blaming; I’m not running scared. I’m not being inconsiderate or self centered. I’m doing what’s best for everyone involved. I’m trying to love in the best way I know how, and that could take the form of limiting the amount or nature of contact I have with someone.

A relationship is never worth spiraling myself into peril. Facing fears is different than putting myself in danger, and communication is often the key to deciphering which category a particular situation falls into. I can acknowledge my fears or doubts and even discuss them with the other person most of the time before making any rash decisions. If I think that things we are doing or habits we have with each other are putting one or both of us in potential jeopardy, I can say so. I don’t have to keep my mouth shut to preserve positive feelings.

When I have engaged people I care about in these difficult kinds of conversations, one or both of the following usually occurs: 1) the relationship grows more intimate; or 2) I learn something meaningful about myself and humanity. Number two is a guaranteed result, as long as I’m paying attention. Number one is a bonus. Other relationships have to end or change in significant ways.

For today, I am listening to my friends’ problems, hearing their joys, and staying involved as much as I can. But I am also honoring my need for rest, for introspective time alone, and for safe distance from potentially harmful behavior. My goal is safety, my shield is awareness, and my sword is honesty. May I fight the honorable and loving fight.

Hope, Honesty, Curiosity, and Love

Never underestimate hope, honesty, curiosity, or love. When in doubt, choose one of those.

Hope. Some would say that hope is weak, that a person should do more than just hope. As long as ideas, dreams, and desires remain hopes, they remain unreal. But I counter that sometimes hope is all we have.

While individuals like the homeless desperately need food and shelter, they also need hope. Without regular reminders of life’s potential goodness, how will the disadvantaged feel motivated to pursue anything? How can a person strive for something they have never been made aware of? People in difficult circumstances many times do not have the access, knowledge, or mental/physical capacity, to actively make life changes. But if they have hope, at least their lives can be a little more bearable right now, until the appropriate access, knowledge, or help does come along.

Honesty. Relationships hinge on honesty. I don’t feel clean and free unless I am fully myself, not hiding anything. As long as I hold back something that needs to be said, I only partially express myself. Honesty means more than telling the truth about events or feelings; it’s about being one’s true self at all times.

I want to live my life without the need to hide anything. To achieve this, I will spend less time worrying about what other people think and more time saying the things that get caught between my heart and my lips. I can also respect who other people are and cherish it when they share honestly with me. Honesty breeds honesty, which leads to deeper, more fulfilling relationships. Disagreements I often avoid can lead to meaningful meetings of the minds.

Curiosity. I can usually infuse any emotion I’m feeling with curiosity and get a beneficial outcome. It’s as simple as asking questions. Say I feel afraid. Instead of cowering or trying to escape, I can ask, “What do I fear? Why do I fear that? What belief is generating this response? Can I let go of that belief?” If angry or resentful, I can ask, “Who am I angry with? Am I angry with myself? Is there something I can create with this anger? Is there something that needs to be said?”

Asking questions usually yields more fulfilling results than yelling at someone or sending a nasty email. Practicing curiosity helps me become a better listener and learner as well as fostering an increasing understanding of myself and others.

Love. All of the above open us up to loving more and better. When we catch a glimpse of the bright side, we can share that with others. We can grow love as a community through shared hope.

Honesty uncovers buried layers in people, allowing us to appreciate the hidden treasures in ourselves and others. By committing to honesty, we become more courageous and free to do all the loving acts we’ve always dreamed of.

And curiosity helps us find love in unexpected places. By remaining inquisitive toward the world, we see love where we thought only resentment existed.

Choosing to love can seem daunting. Sometimes, I need to choose one of the other three in order to make it there. It’s always worth it.

The Ultimate Desire ~ The Ultimate Teacher

I do what I do. I have tried being productive. I have tried following set schemes with predetermined goals. None of that has worked. Now, I reach the point of exhaustion and let my mind flit back and forth amongst within the tangley tree of genius ideas growing inside my heart and brain.

Tangley, tangley… There’s nothing left but words that don’t exist and ideas that could change the world if only someone else could hear them. This mishmash of phrases, if strung together correctly, would comprise the greatest book ever written, and I lie in it, doing nothing about it, wishing I would but not. Just lying still, waiting—waiting for love to come, wanting it so badly I can taste it.

A voice inside assures me that it is coming, that it is very near—this love I want. And it reminds me of all the love I currently have—love that, although it is not the romantic, all-enduring, physically and emotionally satisfying love I envision, is a great love of many different kinds from many different people. For who among us are lucky enough to receive all the kinds of love we need from a single person? The best of us stumble across someone who contains most of them. The majority find someone who satisfy enough. Perhaps others settle for less.

The combination of people in our lives represents all the different kinds of love available, and there are many kinds of love. We keep finding new kinds as we meet each new person along the way or enter into new levels of intimacy with old friends. Love changes, grows, fades, evolves, mutates, and teaches us everything.

More than any book I have read or lecture I’ve attended, more than any pamphlet, meeting, retreat, self-improvement/actualization/reflection activity, technique, or spiritual event, love—and always love—teaches me. The wonder of love transcends any other experience, whether figuring out how to build a career, how to solve an equation, or how to lace a pair of shoes. More than functional lessons, love—not the projects and causes and efforts I participate in—gives me all I need to know, teaching and amazing me in new ways every time.

I adore the big loves, the loves that sweep me off my feet and take me to new places in life I wouldn’t have known to go before love and I collided. It rescues me every time. And I want a rescue now—and every day. We all need love every day. But I’m praying for a big one, a magic one, a knock-your-socks-off, send-you-into-new-worlds love.

It doesn’t have to be for a person; it doesn’t have to be romantic (although those tend to be most powerful), just a love that takes me somewhere I cannot see on my own. I need new sight. And love grows new eyes.

Do Your Work, and Be Kind

I am grateful for the way I do things, for Michelle’s way. It is perfect for me. I never have to be anyone else.

When I follow my authentic feelings and yearnings, things always end up okay, even if I don’t initially see how following those feelings could ever lead to success. Trying to follow the path of another or doing things as I think a successful person would always requires more energy, more striving, and more difficulty. The two roads may end up in the same place, but following the path based on my genuine propensities is more satisfying and less brutal.

The hard part is TRUSTING myself and believing that my way is just as good as any other. Despite my own doubts, I prove time and time again that I am the best at making decisions for myself and coming up with ways of living that work for me.

For instance, a new mantra is running through my mind and heart: Do my work, and be kind.

This especially helps on the job. When I am at work, I can easily focus on what I think others are or are not doing. I compare and get down on myself or resentful of others. This can then cause me to lash out in not-so-enlightened ways. I can be condescending or mean and may behave passive aggressively without realizing it until after the fact.

No more! In life and in the office, I want to do my work. I want to do the best I can and concentrate on my own goals and successes. I cannot control what other people do, but I can control the choices I make. I can decide to work diligently and complete projects, to ask people for what I need and be honest when I’m running short on time. I feel like a good worker when I focus on doing my best. Sometimes, I have to put the blinders on, but it’s always worth it. I would rather not know the office gossip and instead feel grateful for everyone who is there, helping me to do the best I can or teaching me more about myself.

Do not miss the “be kind” part of the mantra. Bottom line is: Kindness wins. Every time. I don’t care how tight the deadline or how important a project is to the executive team, treating someone inconsiderately to get the job done is not the best option. The project ends, the product fades, the memory of that week at work dissipates. But when I hurt someone, the sting stays with me.

Nothing is worth making someone else feel small. No job outweighs the value of a person’s soul. And that goes for my soul as well. Being kind to others is only possible when I am loving myself, too. I must practice self care by resting and doing my own job within appropriate limits. I don’t have to work long hours or do crazy amounts of work just because I think everyone else is. I can focus on doing my best. When I work diligently during business hours and then leave work in the office, I produce stellar work without going insane.

When I am kind both to myself and others, I forge fantastic relationships and don’t feel any shame or fear. I can confront others at work with thoughtfulness rather than resentment. I can be strong and tell people what I need without hurting them. I can clear my side of the road and let their feelings be theirs. I am no doormat, but I am kind. Frustration should not be sat on until it comes out in passive aggressive ways. Leave meanness behind and be professional, completing projects by having conversations with those I have difficulty with and being completely honest about my feelings and the situation. It may require owning my own shortcomings.

The end conclusion is this: I do not have to be a different person at work than I am in my life. The same person who makes good decisions and brings color outside the office can choose wisely at work and bring her own personality into play. All of life con reflect the newfound trust I have in myself and my abilities.

You can do it, too. Don’t let work take over your life. Incorporate work into the life you’ve lovingly built for yourself. Trust that, inside, you do know the best solution.

Properly Nourished

It amazes me when, after frittering about for many hours, engaging in my interests or accomplishing necessary tasks, I sit down, become still, and feel a wave of sadness or fear. Did those feelings just appear, or was I blocking them with my activity? At that point, I begin to decipher exactly why I feel that sad or fearful.

Even more amazing is that the answer is almost always the same: I have not adequately nourished myself. Sometimes, I’m honestly hungry after performing all of those activities. A nice meal can sometimes be the cure for the blues. Most of the time, though, I’m missing a sense of security or am feeling disconnected from the world. I was so wrapped up in whatever I was doing that everything else fell by the wayside.

Sometimes, I’ll insist, “It’s not a question of nourishment. I just spent the last few hours doing things that interest me, things I like, and things I feel good about doing. Surely I can’t need more nourishment than that. I should want to go out and face the world now. I should be ready to party or help someone.” It goes on and on, and I’m missing the point.

We all need many different kinds of nourishment. Sometimes, we need to be alone to rejuvenate. Sometimes, we need a bath, a meal, a hug, a conversation, a walk, a bit of time outside, or a good night of sleep. There are many different kinds of needs.

I may enjoy writing, but spending a few hours doing it is still draining. It may seem self-indulgent to want a long, hot shower after doing something I love, but maybe I need that. Just because I nourished one part of me for a long period of time does not mean the rest of my needs have been fed. You can hold and cuddle a baby all day long, but she won’t stop crying if what she really needs is a diaper change. I have to nourish EACH part of me (and that includes getting out myself occasionally and filling my desire to be of service to others).

I can even convince myself that a phone call to a beloved friend is unwarranted after spending an hour responding to emails. While I may have filled my need for deep connectedness via letter-writing, I am missing a sense of immediate closeness. I may even need to go to a friend’s house to experience the physical presence of another person.

I can talk myself out of any kind of nourishing behavior just as easily as I can abuse another kind of behavior. I can put off simple acts of self care in the name of completing a home improvement project or preparing a gift for a friend. I can even put of certain forms of self-care in favor of other, “better” forms. For instance, I might insist that I read a spiritual or self-help book instead of a novel. Or I’ll try to make myself finish a song I’m working on when I really just need to play music without thinking.

I feel SO nourished when I simply allow myself to feel and go where I need to go. There are places I may not need to visit because they do not nourish me. There are certain friends that I only like to see after I feel completely physically and emotionally nourished because their homes are uncomfortable to be in or they do not connect with me on an emotional level. There are people I go to solely for companionship who may take more from me than they give. It doesn’t mean I like them less. It just means that our relationship works in a certain way, and I have to be aware that just because “visiting a friend” is one of my tools for feeling more grounded does not mean visiting CERTAIN friends is as beneficial as doing other things that make me feel connected.

If you’re looking for ways to feel more balanced in your life, you could try this little exercise (which I intend to do for myself). List out all the different ways that you feel nourished or loved. The list can contain things you like to do, people you enjoy being with, places you like to go, how you like your surroundings to be, types of physical touch that feel good, even work or volunteer service activities—anything that nourishes you physically, emotionally, intellectually, or spiritually.

Once you list the main things that make you feel good, think about each one and how often you use that item to feel nourished. Are there ones you use far more than others? Some you rarely use at all? Which ones do you want to incorporate more into your life?

If there are some that you use almost to the exclusion of others, you might want to consider whether you truly feel balanced. Are you nourishing your physical self when you really need to attend to your spirit? Are you nourishing your sense of connectedness with others while disregarding your intellectual needs?

I have puzzled a few times over friendships that seemed nourishing but that I had no interest in. I couldn’t figure out why I wouldn’t want to spend time with such perfectly all right people. After some inspection, I discovered that some of those relationships nourished me purely by providing an outlet for my caretaking side. I was able to care for these people and do things for them, but they weren’t capable of providing me with similar care. If I give and give and don’t receive intellectual stimulation, emotional support, or even physical care from a person, of course I will stop feeling compelled to spend time with him or her.

I had to let go of my guilt and take those relationships for what they were. It’s fine for me to continue to help them and hang out with them (although some relationships like that do need to end). But I need to realize that only the caretaker in me feels nourished by those relationships, so other needs will be left unmet. I have to make sure that I feel fully nourished before spending much time with people who cannot meet my needs.

Conversely, I have wondered why I was getting nothing out of certain friendships. I wanted to be friends, and it just wasn’t working. Well, I had to realize that I could not give what they needed. I did all the things for them that I do well, trying to nourish the friendship, but things never gelled. They didn’t feel compelled to grow closer to me because I could not provide the kind of care they needed.

That can be hard to accept, but being aware of what I am giving and what others need (and vice versa) has enlightened my friendships. This does not mean that I am inadequate or that the other people in my life need to shape up. We all simply have different things to give. Relationship dynamics are built on the compatibility of the ways we each receive and give love and support.

So – for today, I am exploring all the different ways I nourish myself, seeing if I’m neglecting any areas. I’m also examining the ways I relate with and nourish others. How do I need to stretch myself, and what parts of me do I need to accept? There are certain things that I can give right now and certain things I cannot. Can I accept these things and use this knowledge to make wise choices and grow? That’s the goal.

A Dozen Roses

I think many of us have pondered the notion of flowers as gifts. On some level, giving a flower says, “Here is a beautiful object. Now, you have to take care of it, but even if you do, it will still shrivel up and die. Oh, here’s a tiny packet of magic powder that will make it last a couple more days at least!” If this is a metaphor for love, who wants it?

Well, I’ve decided that maybe I do. Sure, eternal love is a nice thought, but until I reach that level with someone, I’m okay with a flower-like love—beautiful, fragrant, gentle, and when it fades, it fades. Put some effort and sparkle into it, and it might last a little longer.

I mean, I almost feel like a fraud telling someone I’ll love him or her forever. Is that possible? Can I really say that? The cynic in me emerges when I hear other couples exchange vows of unending love and rapture. It’s not that I don’t believe that they currently feel that way. I simple know the truth of what I’ve observed. Forever love is possible, but it’s certainly not the norm.

Throughout all aspects my life, the temporary nature of most things comforts me. In the midst of my eating disorder especially, every decision seemed so weighty, every feeling so insurmountable, every challenge so unending. Nowadays, I can face feelings and know that they will end. I may feel sad now, but I may not tomorrow—or even in as little as an hour. Feelings are fleeting.

Situations are temporary, too. A heinous roommate, a broken-down car, an electrical outage—they are all situations that can be moved out of or changed. Most illnesses even fall into this category. Most of the time, we just need to keep taking steps, any steps, and we will get out of the muck much faster than if we lay down and cry because our options appear nonexistent. (Of course, lying down and doing nothing can be entirely appropriate, but doing nothing can be considered a step in itself. Life is contradiction. Deal with it.)

Knowing that things will change and move with or without my effort takes a weight off of my shoulders. If I don’t like the bouquet life has given me, it will die pretty soon anyway. I can even throw it away before it dies if I want to! Sometimes, I have to wait for things to change on their own; other times, I can help speed the process. The bottom line is, I’m never stuck. Things are always moving, and there’s always an opportunity for growth and a place for newness to slip in.

Now that I’ve defended a cynical disbelief in eternal love, I’ll turn to the small percent of love that verges on deserving the adjective “forever.” It seems to me that the love that lasts a lifetime is really a series of different loves strung together and evolving in and out of one another. Other languages have dozens of words for love, an idea for which the English language is sadly lacking. Those other languages explicitly recognize what we all know: There are many different kinds of love.

And I need different kinds of love. I don’t always need the kind of love that gives me things all the time. Sometimes, I need a love that shows me how to deal with not having what I want. Sometimes, I need admirers; other times, I need peers or even pity. Sometimes, a mother love is best, then a father love, then a friend love, then a romantic love.

Of course, emotional love is important, but so is love that takes action and does things that say, “I love you.” Some kinds of love are less actionable but no less deep. Some loves baby us, and other loves tell us to buck up and move on. Some love accepts us exactly as we are, and another love might encourage us to change. All of these kinds of love, and more, cycle in upon each other and take turns.

There may be times in a relationship when two people treat each other more as friends, then more as lovers, then more as colleagues. The pros at this learn to integrate all kinds of love. They appreciate the diverse methods of love-showing instead of getting stuck in a single idea of love. And most importantly, I think, forever lovers remain open to the idea that love could change, and they embrace that change and love in whatever way they are capable of at the time.

No love is perfect, or maybe that means it’s all perfect.

Anyway, my final conclusion is that flowers are, in fact, an entirely appropriate representation of love. As if it even needed to be said…

Just As I Am

As I sit down to write this entry about the importance of being okay with where I am right now, the only sentence that flies to my mind is: Am I okay with where I am?

I don’t think that I am completely okay with me. I feel perpetually in-between. I’m never perfect but never in the gutter. I’m doing some of the things I want to do and not others. I want to be doing better than I am.

This reflects my consistent inability to stay in the moment. I’m always a few steps ahead, to the career, the love, the vacation, the success, the serenity, or the wisdom I will have “one day.” Shortly after I picture that imaginary future, all the things I have to do to get there pop into my head. The moment is interrupted by a barrage of things I need to do. I’ll have to write this many songs and meet this many people and go to this many places and wear these sorts of things and look this sort of way and learn these types of things and become, become, become…until I can’t remember who I am right now.

Am I okay right now? Is it okay to accept myself, even though I don’t measure up to so many standards I created along the way? Can I erase the potential futures from my mind and enjoy what I do have and, most importantly, who I am.

If I stop fixating on images of the person I foresee myself being, I may discover that I am not the sort of woman who really wants to match those images—or who even could match them if she tried. I may grow in a different direction. By accepting myself now, as I am, I open up the possibility that I could be completely successful in this very moment. Instead of dictating to myself who I should be and laying out maps to where I will go, I can discover who I actually am and let my feet do the walking.

It troubles me that I dislike so many of my behaviors. I like myself, but I don’t always understand the things I do. I seem so strange at times, so contradictory. When my behavior doesn’t synch with who I am, maybe instead of focusing on the behavior, I can focus on looking into myself. Maybe I have misconceived of myself somehow. I’m not saying that I’m not who I think I am, but there may be an additional part of myself in conflict with my current self-image. There may be something in me I have not explored.

I’m sure there are vast regions of yourself that you may have neglected, intentionally or not. I hope we all slow down and make it into a conversation with the people we really are, so that those selves can come out and live life. I bet that reality is far better than the ideals we strive so hard to attain.

Give What You Want to Get

A short reminder for everyone: Give what you want to get. It works!

I often feel that I work so hard to reach out to people and stay connected only to receive nothing in return. Sometimes it seems as if I give and give and am still left with days devoid of anyone reaching out to me. I want to feel connected with people, but I even more deeply desire for that connection to be initiated by someone else. I don’t want to have to call or go visit. I want to be invited.

Well, such is not life most of the time, at least for me. I have to reach out first, and then, more often than not, I receive a flood of phone calls and maybe a couple of invitations, reminding me that I am reached out to when I take that first, difficult step of getting outside my own head and calling out into the world. Usually, a simple phone call to a person I think will appreciate it starts the ball rolling.

Perhaps the human life is, ultimately, a lonely one. Mine certainly feels that way much of the time. But that loneliness can spur us on to give to others and seek connection. I seem to prefer alone time more than most people, but I do not want to wither away without deeply knowing other people or being equally known by others. This longing draws me out, even when I think, “I’ve certainly made enough effort in the last two weeks to invite people places, call them, or give them things. Why does no one call me on the spur of the moment? I’m going to wait it out until someone calls.” Eventually, I realize that I have, in fact, received many a spur-of-the-moment call. I am invited a great many places, although oftentimes, they are not invitations I feel inclined to accept.

The fact is, I already have the love I seek within me. When I call someone, even when I think I’ve already made plenty of gestures that should warrant some incoming affection, I undoubtedly experience a shift in thinking. When the other person answers and starts telling me about his or her life, the world opens up. Suddenly, there is more to life than me; other people are having fun and struggling in different ways than I am.

And strangely, after hanging up after what is usually a most satisfying conversation (if it’s not, I typically call someone else), I’ll start getting those invitations and phone calls I craved. It may not be until the next day, but I take note of the influx of communication that appears to result from a small release on my part.

To many of you, this is probably obvious, but I seem to be a bit of a dunce with social things sometimes. Making phone calls can be difficult. Nowadays, it’s easier and easier, and I love the people around me more and more. But I can still get down and start feeling that everyone gets much more attention than me or that no one ever thinks of me like I think of them. Because of the newfound connectedness in my life (and a few enlightening pearls of wisdom from my mother), I now see that everyone feels that way at times.

So, when I started feeling less loved than everyone else in the world this weekend, I reminded myself that there are probably other people in my life feeling unloved now, too. So I called one. Who knows if she was feeling unloved at the time, but she definitely wanted to talk. And I am incredibly grateful for that. We ended up going out and having a good time. And today, well, let’s just say I’m feeling the love—and also feeling incredibly productive. I have accomplished a lot today!

Turns out, I already had the love I wanted, but it took giving some away to see it. Plus, I gained even more. Hooray for the principle of giving what you want to get.

Happy giving!

Note: This idea apparently applies to almost everything else, too. If you want respect, give it. If you want time, give it. If you want enthusiasm, give it. If you want dedication, loyalty, structure, cleanliness, hugs, or support, give some away. All you need is already yours. Now, we get to the work of truly believing that…

Hold My Hand

Came across this old song today and wanted to share it with you all. It touched my heart to play it again after a few years have passed...

Deeper Connectedness

I like seeing different parts of who I am. I like seeing different parts of other people. People are endless mysteries, labyrinths whose depths have yet to be fully explored. Ten lifetimes probably aren't enough to scope the vastness of the soul.

I like giving people a chance. I like asking people odd questions and noting their responses. Each new day opens up new channels of discovery. When I spend more time with a person, I usually find more and more things to like, more similarities, and more interesting differences.

I've long been uninterested in knowing only people who seem "like me" because, in the end, everyone is both like me and unlike me. The first things I see about a person may disguise untold-of connections between us. I like the intricacies within that framework. I'm interested in how we form connections with people and how we deepen those bonds.

Sometimes, however, it's difficult to find other people willing to explore those depths with me. I think that almost everyone would profess to want to get to know their friends in deeper ways, but when certain inner areas are probed, many people jerk back, afraid, or they leap forward and put on a show, pretending to reveal in an attempt to cover the truth. I'm searching for more people willing to honestly probe the depths and do their best to be thoroughly authentic.

I'm slower to cut people out of my life now, too. I am noting snap judgments when I make them but not necessarily moving out of the friendship because of those initial sentiments. Often, my resistance stems from an insecurity within myself, although sometimes resistance is an intuitive force that should be given credence.

All this to say that I am learning to be open to all kinds of people and to be brave enough to open up and seek openness from anyone who presents him or herself as willing to reciprocate. I am uncovering treasures EVERYWHERE, in everyone, even the most unlikely. I hope to continue this journey.

Following this mindset has strengthened my family relationships and enhanced the other connections in my life. I am becoming more and more curious about people.

One concern remains, though: I pray that my naturally inquisitive nature doesn't prevent me from opening up myself. I hope to give at the rate I receive. My tendency to play the observer can separate me from others in that, while I may feel more connected to them, they feel a distance from me. I hope to truly be authentic and honest about myself and lay aside the mediator or investigator hat from time to time.

People are amazing. Pity that I can forget that, run into fear, and then hide within myself occasionally. Although those hidden times are valuable, moments when I reach out and act on a willingness to be involved with other people take me to new heights. Inter-relational life is so new to me! I want to uncover all the riches within the people I know and love.

Thanks to all those who have reached out to me. The first step is the hardest for me to make, but once I take a couple of steps toward connecting with someone, I'll run with it. Thank you to those who know I need that initial push.

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!