Admitting the Truth /  by Michelle Cowan

When I sit down to eat, I sit down with myself. It has been a long time since I had a bowl of cereal - a simple concoction of grains and milk, maybe some fruit or cinnamon added for pizzazz. I just finished eating one. Delicious. I was hungry.

For months, I've been attempting to sate this hunger within, a hunger fueled by long bike rides, walks, and all my daily energy expenditures, with fruit and energy bars. I eat more than four or five times per day easily. I eat all the things I feel comfortable with. But it's never enough. I don't WANT to eat the things that will help me sustain my weight. I don't WANT the high-fat and/or high-calorie foods I've long avoided. But in order to survive, I have to start asking myself if I should try these foods I don't want, just to see if I like them enough to reintroduce them to my diet.

I'm living on the teetering edge, it seems. That's how I feel. My mother commented this weekend that I was looking thin. She asked if I was doing anything about it. I told her, honestly this time (as opposed to many years ago when I never really tried), that I was working on eating more, that I am working on eating until I am satisfied. The only difficulty with this lately is that I never feel satisfied. I want so much more than is normal. And I believe this is because I am underweight. Of course, my mom is the only one with guts enough to say it aloud, perhaps because she's one of the few who understand the havoc this disorder can wreak. That is why, instead of doubting her (For who can help but doubt the over-protectiveness that comes with being a mom?), I'm believing her.

Admitting this now scares me. I want to be a normal weight. I know that the thoughts about food and the focus on food diminish when I eat enough and reach a healthy weight. But I have yet to fully step over the food hurdle. I have broken through with many fear foods in the last year. But it's time for more. I long for FULL recovery, and that takes "risky" moves sometimes.

Right now, I'm just below where I want to be weight and diet-wise. Notice that I said, "where I WANT to be." It's no longer about where I NEED to be. I have no answers to the question of where I should or need to be. I am not at a dangerous weight or doing anything monumentally perilous with food. Where I need to be is with my healthy desires. I am wise enough to know what is best. I believe that. I get more and more in touch with that part of me every day.

Let me outline the main points of this difficulty:
1) I am underweight.
2) I think I would be more beautiful/healthier/able to think more clearly if I were at a higher weight.
3) I must eat more in order to get to that higher weight.
4) I must be willing to eat foods that I have some anxiety toward in order to consume enough calories to gain weight.
5) I am still afraid of those foods.
6) I still have some worries about actually being bigger and staying that way (loss of power, loss of "special-ness").

So there it is, laid out as simple as day. My goal is to think more clearly and feel better. How does that happen? Gain weight. How does that happen? Eat enough. How does that happen? I must be willing to eat until I am actually SATISFIED - and this includes eating foods I am uncomfortable with while trusting myself to know when to stop eating.

I also have to realize that I am special without this eating disorder and powerful without being thin. I am unique and strong in and of myself, regardless of outside markers.

I want the food obsession to end. And until my body knows it is out of a physical danger zone, I will naturally, biologically focus on food. It's time to end this!

In light of my new goals, changes have to be made. I have made so much progress over the past decade, especially in the past four years, with this eating disorder. I must let go of it as an obsession to make room for the other things that wish to occupy my mind, like music, writing, friends, and general exploration of life. Right now, I tire myself out, and all I can think of is consuming food and then expending the energy I take in.

I have moved. I'm settled in, both in my new physical home and in recovery. It's time to release control.

This is not as simple as eating more. Or maybe it is that simple, but it's still not easy. It means letting down strongholds I have built up that dictate when I will eat, what kind of food, in what location, in addition to how much. It also ties into notions of my body and if I am willing to release the thin, childlike one I have for one more appropriate for my age and stature. I wouldn't mind looking more like a woman than a girl, would I?

Society approves of my current weight. I am no thinner than a typical movie actress. But I am thinner than I feel is optimal. I can tell. I hate looking in the mirror and thinking, "I look like a high schooler." No. I want the strong, sufficient woman on the inside to shine through on the outside. More food would give me the energy and appearance to do that.

So I am also bucking society. I have to do what is right for me. It means resting more and listening to my body, trusting that it knows how to take care of itself. I can enjoy food while not overindulging or restricting all the time. I don't have to be a tiny size to be loved or successful. I will find success that is not based on superficial things. And I will be focused and sharp enough to pursue my dreams. Food will not distract me from my goals.

Creative expression - musically and in my writing. Helping others with eating disorders or depression. Loving those around me. All of these are worthy goals. And I want the stamina to achieve them. I still want to ride my bike and rock climb and walk and swim and do all the active things I do. I have made huge strides in putting exercise in its place. Now, it's time to see what lies beneath my resistance to new foods. It's time to release control. It's time to let my body be my body as I let myself be me.

All these things seem like Eating Disorder Recovery 101 to me. But sometimes I have to work my way around, through all the abstract concepts and underlying factors in my eating disorder to get back to the plain truth: How I look and what I eat ARE components of this, and I must use all the deep emotional and spiritual work I've done to combat what lies on the surface. I will win, and how I feel physically will be an expression of that.

Come with me.

A Harder Day /  by Michelle Cowan

Today, I am having a bit of trouble. Everything from yesterday still holds true, but today is a new day. Right now, I feel far less accepting of my desire to be alone. My current routine feels disturbingly reminiscent of other times I have moved off into my own place. I am exploring the new territory to which I have moved, and that has provided immense fun. But it feels like much of my time is spent alone. And I must confess that a large portion of my exploring has been restaurant and food-related. I wonder if I will go into binge mode.

I know all the tools I have. I know all the fun and interesting things to do out there, and when I don't know what's going on, I know where to look. I just don't care right now. I want to be alone. I want to cave in. I want to be inside myself and feel out all these feelings. I want to turn inside out and become a new person.

These are strange feelings. But I have seen something that has thrown me off-kilter lately and may be one source of angst: a lack of commitment from people, or at least broken commitments. People either refuse to make promises or break them. It seems that the last few weeks have been rampant with cancellations. This means that I have more of a desire to behave the same way: avoid making plans, stay in my own space, deny that others need my side to make plans, too. It's easy to fall into this - as if I will always have last-minute options arise that will be better than potential plans I could make.

I just feel undervalued. It seems that people I care very deeply for are not making me a priority at all. I am not worth their time - or there are other people in their lives who matter more.

Now, I recognize the selfishness and self-centeredness of this. I want people to devote time and energy to me. And I want to be wanted more than anyone else in their lives. Well, of course, that lacks any tie to reality. Family comes up. I live far away now. But I want to be desired. I want to be reached out to. I used to drop in on people. No one drops in on me. I live far away. This is hard to cope with. I want more friends who live closer.

And so, here I am, fantasizing about food off and on, uncertain about how much I want to exercise, go out, play music, or do ANYTHING. Familiar? Why do I always wind up here?

Can I accept myself if I only want to lay around and eat? Can I make healthy choices? Can I be social enough? Will I create a vibrant life for myself on this new side of town? Yes. Yes. I know what is best. I am following it. I must believe this. I am loved - even if by me alone. I'm sure other people love me, too. I just want to feel it.

I thought I would confess my current food/exercise worries simply to put it out there. I fear falling off the wagon and no one seeing. Even if they saw, would they pick me up? Could they pick me up? I may have to do that for myself.

But I do not intend to fall. I intend to rest and let myself be until I do desire healthier things. This shift usually occurs sooner than I expect. Learning to trust.

Oil Changes, Respect, Routine, and Acceptance /  by Michelle Cowan

Barely missed the rain! Had to get my oil changed today, so I left my car at the shop and rode my bike in to work. They called later to say my auto was ready for pick up, and I planned to either get a ride or take my bike after work. Well, I saw the clouds forming and then checked the weather. Storms were afoot in the afternoon.

So I hopped on my good old Raleigh and headed for the shop, where I was taken care of in due time. The rain started sprinkling as I turned into the parking lot, and minutes after I entered the building, it started pouring. Perfect timing if ever there was!

Anyway, I got out of there without spending too much. Final conclusion - and one that I've made dozens of times: I hate all car-related business. I go in guarding against being taken advantage of, which probably only increases the likelihood that they will try to do so. Energies, my friend. They always call with extra “recommendations” that I rarely take. This time, it was low washer fluid, bad battery, and tire rotation. Well, I have my own washer fluid for changing, I get free tire rotations at Discount Tire, and AutoZone will install a new battery free if I buy it there. There are also brake pads that need to be replaced, but my boyfriend assured me he would do that. (He also assured me that we would change the oil again this time, and it never happened. We’ll see… It’s a matter of time constraint.)

So, I hightailed it out of there and back to work. Another conclusion: I love it when my day has variance. I hate getting stuck in the same routine over and over. Well, today, I was free of that. Car work tends to do that for me – but it also causes tremendous stress. Positives and negatives to all. But what is the stress about?

Well, I have a driving desire to “stick it to the boys.” It’s always been that way. But the fact is, I don’t know that much about cars. I could very easily be taken advantage of in auto mechanic situations. So I put on a face. I immediately rebuff the car guys when they try to explain the car situation to me. I am fine when I ask friends, my dad, my boyfriend about cars. I want to know. They know I’m smart. I trust them to be smarter in this area than me. But with the car guys, I have to show them. I don’t want to hear their reasons. I just want them to change everything out and be done with it. Do what I say and move on.

So I do whatever I can to prove I am capable. And that includes taking my bike. I like that I refuse their offers to help me load my bike into my car and then dazzle them with how quickly I remove the tire and slide it in. I feel like I win a bit of respect when I ride of on my wheels or when I return and handle things smoothly. With auto work, I feel like my bike is my only asset. It allows me freedom beyond my automobile and a trump card outside the car guys' expertise. Maybe it’s a sort of leveler.

It all takes me back to high school. I worked out with the men’s cross country team once a week. This always thrilled me. Sometimes, I got to do it twice in a week. There were only one or two guys I couldn’t beat, and I truly relished that. Plus, it made me better to be pushed a little harder. We were a smaller program, but still AAAA (if you know the Texas system). I was good, and I liked affirmation of that – and respect.

I’m constantly craving respect. And I try to get it from any source. I wanted it from the car guys, but it’s so hard to get when I know significantly less about the subject matter than they do. It’s the same in regular conversation. In my topic areas of expertise, I feel comfortable. Only if I can treat the situation as a learning experience am I content with times when I’m completely out of my element.

I have to give myself a pat on the back here, though. In the past year, I have been repeatedly pulled into new territory. I’ve changed groups of friends, moving in and out of different groups and subcultures. I have learned more about cars and climbing and bikes and cooking and Asia and spirituality and traveling than I ever thought possible. My horizons have been expanded. And I find that I savor the learning.

It’s just that the mechanic shop adds a financial quotient to the mix. I do not want to be ripped off. I am suspicious of them, and that wrecks the trust required in a learning experience. I want to trust the person telling me information enough that I can accept that he or she or I might be wrong, and I still listen. I don’t want to feel like the other person is giving me a fully one-sided view designed to take me down.

So – for today, I am trying to win respect and have variance in my routine. I need to do different things. I’ve been wanting to do nothing but hole up in my apartment and eat or cry or feel or...I'm not sure at this point. It’s odd. I want a bit of solitude – although I welcome the love of my boyfriend or my family and fear the depression that often accompanies my alone time.

I crave one-on-one interaction most of all. The big party stuff is a bit tough right now. I also haven’t been seeking out as many new, off-the-wall events. There has been less cultural searching. I’m sitting and flowing right now. Hopefully, I will begin to branch out more soon. I want to continue going to gallery shows and movies and theater. It will be good. I trust myself to break out of the mold.

But for now, I seem to like sitting alone, exploring, riding my bike, going shopping. Just being alone. But still, there’s a nagging inside – what SHOULD I do? What is the BEST thing? These questions drive me insane! Like I can’t choose to do something (whether social or solitary) and that be okay. I trust a higher power to balance me out because I don’t know how to find balance. I think I just need to let it happen. I'm not sure of the next step.

I want new friends; I want to explore music more. I want to feel okay. But the bottom line is - all I have is now. This day is going well so far, so I pray for it to keep going.

When It's All Stripped Away... /  by Michelle Cowan

Sorry it's been so long since my last post, but I've been distracted. Or rather, I've been distracting myself. Lots of changes are going on in my life, and I managed to rule out bloggish introspection in favor of eating disorder behaviors. I can see the better road again now, though, even if I kicked and screamed all the way to it.

The past few weeks have been a blessed reminder of the difficulty of going back to old patterns once I've discovered how good life can really be. I can't unlearn a lesson. I can ignore it for a while, but not unlearn it. Now, I know what to do and naturally fight to do the better behavior for myself. Do I always make the best choice? No. But in the end, I'm succeeding and trusting. It's just taking time.

Oh heck, read below. My post is super-lengthy this time, but let's just say I'm making up for the blogless month that just passed.

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When I want to change but can't seem to do it, sometimes I am forced. Often, I pray to be forced. Recently, several metaphoric slugs in the gut put me in a prime position to finally act on what I know I've been needing to do: slow down and care for my body. The wake-up call also brought an unexpected side effect: a chance to once again consider who I really am - without how I look, what I do, or who my friends are.

For several months now, my body has endured abuse I hope everyone else out there avoids. Working out is fine - but every day, multiple times a day, obviously has a negative effect. I owe my extreme indulgence in such behavior to transition and change. I cannot control all the fluctuating elements in my life, including a new job, a new place to live, new friends, the absence of old friends, the turmoil of romance, etc. So much has been happening. No wonder I called on my old stand-bys: food and exercise.

My food fantasies increased as the frequency of my workouts rose. Hungrier and hungrier and more and more afraid to eat. It has such a familiar ring...as if food and fitness are the core of life. I knew my behavior had become seriously problematic when I began to feel unable to concentrate at work. My body ached all over, and I knew that if I didn't ease up my activity level and eat more, life would no longer be as fun as it had previously been.

However, this process of giving up requires trust. I have to remind myself of things I already know: that even if I gain weight, life will still be okay (maybe even better), that people will not leave me because of how I look (and if they do, I do not want to associate with them). I have to trust that eating more ENHANCES my work and creative life, allowing me to concentrate more fully on tasks at hand. A starving brain finds it difficult to stay on-task.

I have to believe that my body still functions at its prime when I do not work out every moment of the day. I will continue to get hungry, I will continue to be strong, probably even stronger, even if I let up and rest instead of running or biking or climbing or doing any one of the numerous fun activities I had begun to use as emotion-blockers.

So, in the beginning, I tried. I tried eating more. I tried exercising less. Success would come for a few hours, sometimes a few days, but then nervousness would grab me. It took a major shift to get me refocused.

I fell off my bike. I was hungry and riding late at night. I crashed and tried to catch myself, spraining my wrist and bruising my hip in the process. Long story short, no more biking, no more climbing for a while. A left hand that cannot grip anything limits those activities a bit.

The panic that surged at this news alerted me to the true depth of my obsession. Who would I be without biking? Without climbing? Without my amazing body? I was being forced to ask these questions and face them.

Needless to say, many tears followed. Giving up the eating disorder and all the behaviors that go along with it - at any point in recovery - is difficult and often catalyzes a period of grief. I was certainly not starving myself like before and not exercising with the ferocity I had in the depths of the disorder, but the resurgence of the obsession needed to be addressed pointedly.

And how to address it? More tears. More screaming. More feeling. Even while injured, I tried to drown out the feelings of loss and fear that accompany transitions like the one I'm currently going through. I ran instead of biking, sneaking in walks and runs whenever possible, trying to shove uncomfortable feelings about my changing self down with endorphins and time-killing ritual. But again, I was pushed into feeling. After years of previous abuse, my knees crumbled, and now here I sit, truly forced to be still with myself.

This is where I wanted to be months ago, when I noticed the obsessions and eating disorder behaviors returning. I wanted to feel, but I was too afraid to take myself here. But now, here I am, located in the center of grief and anticipation and mixed-up emotions. And in the wake of several yelling, sobbing, and pillow-destroying sessions, the questions come.

Do I trust myself to become a wonderful person, even though she is different from who I used to be? Can I be amazing and happy wherever I live and at whatever job I do?

Yes.

I am more than a girl who kicks butt physically and looks fantastic in shorts. In the past, I have been the girl who doesn't look so good, and I may be her again. Does that matter?

Not to me - not to the healthy part of me that knows how great I truly am, how strong and resilient. I am more.

But I'll be honest. Knowing those things doesn't stop the doubts. Believing truth requires courage and faith.

Right now, I am continually challenged to look deep. I cannot run (or bike or climb) away. What do I see there? I see a creative voice yearning to get out. Someone who can create things and think about things and be things she never dreamed. She doesn't need a phenomenal-looking body - her body is phenomenal at any size and activity level. It is a masterwork of natural engineering.

Her brain is sharp and attuned, even more so when she eats. She enjoys life - food, activity, words, music, thinking, and even just sitting. She supports other people and thinks consciously about those relationships, not stuffing her feelings away with binges or numbing starvation/exercise extremes. I feel things and discuss them. I love life and enjoy it. I am more.

Sometimes things have to be stripped away to see what's really there. That needed to happen with me. My life had developed a sheen - like my skin had been plated with activity, friends, and happy appearances. It frightened me to know that something else lay beneath, something I was being called to examine. So I examine it now and discover that the inner me is changing, is larger and grander than I expected, and must be trusted. Yes, I have to trust the scary, as of yet unknown part of me in order to move forward in life.

Can I trust myself to stop eating when I'm full? Can I trust myself to make good life/career choices? Can I trust myself to associate with healthy, loving people? Can I trust myself when those safe people are not around? Can I trust myself to stay steady even when my surroundings are not? Can I be strong in the face of disaster? Can I do it? Can I be me and trust me?

Yes, I can.

One thing more - Someone broke into my car. The thieves stole my guitar and a couple of other valuables. Out of that incident, an even more difficult question arose: Who am I without music, the activity I most associate with my authentic soul? Why does music mean so much? And how can I pour out my heart in every way, with or without a musical performance at hand?

And my possessions? Do any of them matter? Not really. I will survive without them. It's all a matter of convenience. Strip it all away - who am I?

The disappearance of positive things, things that I cannot remember using in a harmful way, cut to the core of me. Who am I without the things I hold dearest?

I must go back to the truth. I will make it and I am strong, no matter what gets taken away. A solid person exists underneath. I don't need to try so hard to keep my life together because, even if all the concrete elements of that life are dismantled, I am whole. Now, getting to know that whole person... Welcome to another issue, one that scares me because I know that not every aspect of myself is socially acceptable.

But can I be unacceptable? Can I look however I want? Can I change drastically every day? Can I say exactly what I want whenever I want? Can I trust myself to make the decision to do those things or not?

I'm here with all of you, facing the tough stuff, and urge you all to think about how you would feel if something precious were taken from you. The severity of your reaction will indicate the level of your attachment to it. Are you allowing something external to define you? How can you face what's underneath? Can you release presupposition and just be you?

I hope so. I hope I can.

No More Multitasking! /  by Michelle Cowan

Can I effectively do two things at once? Multitasking sounds great, promising saved time and effort, but how well do I perform any project with my mind only half-devoted to it? My quality of work decreases even though the quantity rises. Therein lies the central downfall of multitasking for me. The more habitually I multitask, the more tasks I take on. So, fewer finished projects leave me satisfied, my stress increases as a result of having too many tasks to account for and remember, and I still don't have any extra time thanks to the additional duties I assume when in a multitasking modality.

Right now, I'm definitely in multitasking mode. I can't count the number of things I've accomplished this weekend while simultaneously doing something else. This behavior indicates something all too familiar in me. I am trying to avoid something, probably something that requires a bit of thought. The more things I can set my mind on, particularly if those things come in the form of a neat little checklist that I can obsessively reorganize in my head, the less likely it is that those unwanted thoughts will be able to fight through the crowd on the way to my conscious.

So now I sit, determined to do one thing and one thing only: write this blog. This is it. Sure, it would probably be better to sit and meditate, allowing those unrecognized thoughts and feelings to rise to the surface, but for now, simply writing is the best I can do. At least it's a step down on the frantic-o-meter from endless multitasking. I congratulate myself for that one achievement.

Even as I sit, though, I'm considering making a snack, going for a walk, watching a movie, calling someone. There are all sorts of things I can do. Can I allow myself to just sit? Will it work? Can I enjoy a leisurely Sunday without judging myself constantly?

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Okay, I took a break and finished a string of one-thing-at-a-time activities. And I feel much more centered. The television was turned off, my mind was focused, and I even took a walk. I feel free and calm now. Doing one thing at a time reduces my perception of chaos. Things seem so much more harried when I'm trying to do them all at once. Thank goodness for calm.

I feel most productive when I let everything go and allow the chores that really need to be done rise to the surface. I can grab at things and make lists and feel accomplished, but I lose all sense of myself and my daily rhythm. Oftentimes, by exclusively following a to-do list, I miss what really needs to be done in the moment, or I feel guilty that I didn't finish my list if something unexpected comes up. When doing one thing at a time, my mind focuses.

Moreover, I now know what I was suppressing. I am disquieted by a certain relationship. In my recent sequence of activities, I talked to that person. Now, although some things remain unsaid, I feel more at peace leaving the situation as it is. Relationships never fit into my little box of to-dos. They teach me more and more how to go with the flow and live in the moment.

I don't like to multitask friendship. I enjoy being there for a friend and concentrating on what is happening right now, not what might be in the future. That is the best way for me to be authentic. When dealing with other people, it's always one step at a time.

I can take what I am learning from this slightly uneasy relationship and apply it to my private life. Right now is what matters. Obsessive planning for the future only complicates the few small steps I need to take right now. It feels good to have more peace.

But I have to admit, I'm starting to think about the few things left over to do today... I guess I'm always learning. Nevertheless, even if it only lasts a minute, I have peace right now, and right now is all I really have anyway.

Enjoy Today - Tomorrow Will Always Be Beyond Control /  by Michelle Cowan

Have you ever felt a wheel spinning your chest that you can’t stop? Like the pages of life are turning too fast for you to keep up? "I missed the last line. I want to go back. I want to take control of this spiraling machine of my existence..."

Everything seems so far beyond my grasp sometimes. How can I come to terms with the fact that, ultimately, much of life is out of my hands? Yes, I make choices. I do things. I pick my thoughts and choose my opinions. But many other factors exist simultaneously, things outside of my realm that affect me.

I am starting a new job on Monday, leaving employment I enjoy and coworkers I love. My current work environment is a blessing. I have no guarantees as to what the new world will be. But for many reasons, I know for certain it is the best possible move I could make. Things are moving naturally. However, it’s a vastly different work situation that will require a reconstruction of my daily routine. I know this, so I have been clinging to the routine I currently follow. Next week, I fear it will be shattered to pieces.

And so it might be. But I will not be shattered. I will simply evolve and learn new ways of being. The new is okay. The new is the best that can be. It is leading me to a more fully actualized self. I am excited for this.

I often feel the most out of control when I eat more than usual. I have the sense that I am hanging out to dry, the wind whipping me around on a string. I want to be hungry again. I like knowing that I will be ready when the next meal time comes. But this desire for certain hunger precludes my ability to experience satisfaction. The fact is, I am satisfied in this moment. This moment is full, but still I lean forward into a moment I can’t see, dissolving my experience of real fullness.

This constant shunning of the very satisfaction I seek relates directly to my world outside of food. Right now, my life is solid. My job is good and constant. But I ignore that and focus on the unknowns of next week. I forget that I can feel satisfied now and not worry about the future. Everything will be fine. I am allowed to embrace the current moment, and still be aware that it will all change come Monday morning.

Tomorrow is my last day, but this does not mean my life will end there or be totally ransacked. I can enjoy the stability of today and not dwell on the uncertainty of tomorrow. Who cares what Monday will be? Today is splendid. Today, I cannot be too satisfied. Life is perfect, just as it is.

Affirmation after affirmation, the wheel still turns. An undercurrent of speculation and uncertainty runs just below the surface of everything. I can’t make it disappear despite all my attempts to rationalize it away.

Thankfully, I can choose to feel that feeling. I can own that feeling and not act in unhealthy ways. Today, I can feel anxious and not binge, not starve, not yell at people. I can be myself, admit my anxiety, and go on. I can do incredibly fun things today, even in this moment. I can do the same tomorrow – and every day, even though I don’t know where I might be.

I am safe right now. This is the truth. My stressful feelings are safe. My thoughts are safe. My schedule for today is safe. My behaviors are safe. I can make the choice to live in a positive way. I make the choice to stand strong in who I am and give love to those around me. I don’t have to focus on anything beyond this moment.

Enjoy RIGHT NOW, my friends. This moment is as perfect as it could ever be; don’t dismiss it by worrying over moments to come. Those will be perfect, too.

Sweet and Salty - Mmmmm /  by Michelle Cowan

This is not a typical post, but I have to take a moment to rave about the Mountain Mix flavor Clif Mojo Bar. I have long been a fan of Luna bars, a Clif brand product designed specifically for women, but this new discovery rocks my world. Just as advertised, the Clif Mojo bar combines sweet and salty in a truly irresistible fashion. In the Mountain Mix bar, pretzels, chocolate chips, raisins, and nuts join together in a harmony of texture and taste rarely experienced in an energy bar. My tastebuds thank you, Clif.

In my world, a great organic snack can make the day a little brighter, so I couldn't keep this discovery a secret. (Of course, don't forget good LUNA.) For more organic energy treats and information geared toward active folks, check out http://www.clifbar.com/.

And no, I am not being paid by Clif Bar and Company. I'm just a gal who sometimes feels like she lives on energy bars and fruit. Plus, I'm never able to fully engage in life unless I have first taken care of myself. Little conveniences like energy bars help me satisfy one kind of hunger without having to give the planning of a snack unnecessary time and attention. Passing on a little love...

Is My Best Always Good Enough? /  by Michelle Cowan

What if your best isn't good enough? What if someone else's best isn't good enough? What if it is?

Sometimes, I try my hardest and best to do something, whether in advancing my career, writing music, being a friend, eating appropriately, resting enough, doing new things, etc., and I come up short. I disappoint myself or all my striving leaves me exhausted and frustrated. Sometimes, my efforts are thwarted by external events or unexpected turns in the day. I live each moment as well as I can, but oftentimes, the moment itself somewhat limits my choices. Although I might want to take care of myself or do something that needs doing, I am unable to because I cannot overcome the constraints of the situation. This frustrates me.

For instance, I might go to a place where I want to tell someone something, but I never get a chance to talk to him or her. Perhaps the person I want to talk to avoids me, or someone else shows up whose presence makes the conversation I desire inappropriate. As another example, say I am hungry and need to eat. I go out to dinner with friends, but whatever I order is not enough to satisfy me. Things happen, and I am trapped with them for a while doing other things, unable to get the needed nourishment despite my efforts to take care of myself. In the end, I go home tired and hungry, afraid I might binge and frustrated that I could not meet my needs in the way I wanted.

In such instances, I feel inadequate. Of course, it's unreasonable to expect that I could somehow transcend the bounds of circumstance all the time. I cannot be perfect and cannot control everything. Still, sometimes I feel like I could have worked harder to find a quiet place to chat with my friend or simply ordered something different at the restaurant. I forget that I did my best at the time because that best wasn't good enough.

Or was it?

This thought challenges me. Could my best, no matter how many times it doesn't seem to measure up, always be good enough?

Yes, it can. I can continue doing my best in the next moment and the next. Eventually, all those little bests, even if it seems like I didn't do much, add up to huge success. It just takes longer to see.

Disheartening events like these can also teach me how to be more comfortable in difficult situations. I tried one way of behaving, and I let myself down. Well, then, I can choose to try something different next time. If I want an alternate outcome, I must take steps other than the ones I took before, even if it's only changing subtle things.

Facing that initial disappointment can be a struggle, though, thinking, "If I had only done X, Y, and Z..." "Ugh, how did I mess up so badly?" However, those feelings and thoughts pass as I choose to do my best in THIS moment, which means forgiving myself and being gentle. I can go on and use all of my experiences to my advantage. I am constantly learning to love myself and laugh at the moments when I tried my best but still slipped a little. "Hey, girl," I say, "at least you gave it a shot. How about a hug?"

This brings me to a second point about which I've drawn far fewer conclusions. What about when others do their best and still let me down? I see people trying to love me, trying to be kind, but what they give or what they say helps not at all or even hurts. What if circumstances prevent well-intentioned people from coming through in the ways I need?

This stings. I love those people. I appreciate their attempts at love. But how close do I let them get? If they hurt me even when they truly have the best in mind for me, do I reach back out to them? Do I let them know me intimately?

People in my past have hurt me and then, much later, come to my rescue. Is it worth it to wait for people to figure out how to love me? Or should I simply work harder on myself, learning what I need and how to ask for it directly? I would like to be able to ask for the kind of love I truly need. Trouble is, I'm often still figuring out what that is, and sometimes I want people who will know what I need better than I. How much should I invest in the lives of those who will possibly never possess that skill?

In the absence of firm answers to these questions about the love of other people, I can turn the survey inward. What about when I repeatedly fail myself, despite the best of intentions? How do I continue to love myself even when I do things that harm me? Anyone who has struggled with addictive behaviors and other strongholds knows these concepts intimately.

Perhaps, like what I must learn to do when dealing with others who don't know how to love, I must learn what makes me feel loved and ask for it. I can ask myself to give the kind of love that helps instead of resorting to old behaviors that have proved themselves repeatedly unsatisfying. I can make new habits as I learn how much better they make me feel.

During this process, I gain a brighter picture of life. I always do my best, even though sometimes my best doesn't measure up to the standards I have in my head. In reality, those standards don't exist, only this moment and the opportunity to do the best with it I can. The past is gone and can be used as a learning tool for RIGHT NOW. This moment can be exactly what I wish it to be. I am always good enough.

Love Wins /  by Michelle Cowan

I no longer live in a world of black and white. I live with options, with ambiguity, which has proved itself a far more difficult locale. Feeling settled or having closure is a luxury, not the norm. I am learning to be okay with situations and emotions, even when they aren't well-defined.

Sometimes, my life's direction is vague. My career isn't following a clear trajectory. Sometimes, I want to do two conflicting things or I am not sure how strong my desire is. My emotions and instincts don't seem to have a clear point or reason. I may not have any hard-set opinions on a given topic. Not being able to label something right or wrong can test my patience because I can no longer accumulate feelings of righteousness by judging from a lofty post.

I can no longer avoid bad things and do good things because "bad" and "good" are not so easy to define and may not even exist! Sometimes, I like a person while not liking certain things about him or her. I live in the gray, a hard area to explain, but a place where I have found immense freedom from rules I had created for myself. I do not punish myself here, and I am not "bad." I am me. And I choose what to believe as I walk along.

However, I still long for definite rules, something that will work every time. If I need to make a decision, and the choice is between A and X, and A is always the best thing, my decision becomes much easier. But in the land of gray, X could sometimes be better than A. Sometimes, it might even turn out that A is B, or that the decision never really mattered at all. It's a rough place here in the land of no absolutes. It's harder, but it's better. And I rely on my higher power much more to guide me. Greater faith is applied here.

But back to the longing for rules, for right and wrong, good and bad, should and shouldn't. I think that today, I may have found a solid rule. We will see if it holds up in the long run. Here it is:

Always choose love.

Now, deciding what loving truly is may deserve some thought in each specific instance. I often think I'm loving when I'm actually trying to control a situation or get what I want. Sometimes, loving means seeing things from another person's perspective. What might feel loving to me might not feel loving when applied to another person, and it's hard to determine what another person sees as loving sometimes. Maybe the most I can say is to aim for kindness.

In every interaction, do the kind thing. Choose not to say the hurtful word. Choose to love exuberantly if it feels good. Love more quietly if your heart does not want to do the elaborate love thing.

Many people have hurt me. However, I do not regret any instance when I chose to tell someone how much I cared about him or her. I have not regretted one cheesy card sent, one kind word, one loving touch. If any of those things had been done out of manipulation, I wouldn't feel so good about them. That isn't kindness; it's reaching for control. And I do not like it when I try to manipulate the behavior of others by pretending to care about them. But when I honestly care for someone and reach out to them, when I am hurt but choose to respond in a loving way toward myself and the other party, I regret nothing.

I may feel pangs of humiliation when I receive nothing back or am rejected. It hurts when invitations are repeatedly turned down or when I am made fun of for being so "dramatic." But the humiliation passes, and I am calmed by realizing that at least these other people know how I feel. At least they know they are loved. That's what I want. And I will give it while remembering that in order to love others well, I must first love myself.

This week, I received some love back. I received some rejection. But what I received love-wise far exceeded anything lost by lack of reciprocation in another situation. Love wins. If I refuse to expose my heart, it can never be loved. If no one knows my soul, they can only love a shell of me.

I prefer that the core of me, not just the surface, be wrapped in pure affection. One day, someone will not freak out at my authenticity. In fact, some people in my life already see that and love me for it. Others are not quite able to embrace my intensity. And this is understandable, for I certainly am intense.

Today, instead of living in black and white, where intensity is bad, I see intensity as a part of who I am, a part that makes me great. It makes me interesting. I may have to deal with additional challenges because of my tendency toward the dramatic, but living as me certainly beats suppressing parts of myself so that I can get through life a little more easily. I don't care about climbing corporate ladders, and I don't have to "snag a man" to enjoy affection. Those things are only worth it if I get them while being MYSELF. To be myself is to love, and I am free to love in big ways if I feel like it.

I could and have felt angry and vengeful toward those to whom I gave truckloads of love while never receiving anything back. Those feelings have always eventually passed, though. And I feel that I am stronger for having loved. If I had played it safe and not tried to love, I would never have known if those people could have loved me in return. The question would have hung over my head, and I would never have touched other people who saw me giving that love. I would have simply stayed silent and still, wondering and feeling unexpressed, depriving people of the affection I held within.

Instead, I feel full and whole, having witnessed the outcome of loving in those situations. I also learned how to love better by practicing love. Loving is worth the work and the risk in the end, when I am able to love exquisitely. Eventually, someone will appreciate my love and want to pay me back in kind. Until that time, I'm paid back in love for myself. After loving, I love myself more. I treasure this person I've become, who can be "bad" and love at the same time, who can be humiliated but also feel prouder of herself than ever. Perhaps love is the absolute authority in this land of no absolutes...or maybe I simply enjoy loving right now.

Relationships /  by Michelle Cowan

Relationships are difficult for me. Not just romantic relationships, but any kind of social interaction. I tend to put on my performance face when I’m with people because it takes a less personal kind of energy to entertain than it does to honestly share who I am. But relationships teach me things no other tool can. Books, personal reflection, writing, music, therapy, and anything else I use to examine my heart cannot match the uncovering power of relationships. However, when I use those other tools to examine the dynamics I experience with other people, it always amazes me what I discover.

Now, to many people, the importance of relationships is rather obvious. Not so for me. I long denied that anyone had any need for anyone else. And truly, maybe we don’t need others. But history shows (when one looks at recluses and isolated artists) that life is typically much shorter and much darker without regular interpersonal exchange. So, what is it that I am currently learning from others? Why do I choose not to shun people and turn completely inward? I require an enormous amount of room for introspection, but I am finding that I need a regular social injection in order to achieve a peaceful balance.

For today, my relationships are teaching me that I need love and need to give love. Secondarily, they teach me how to love others and how I need to be treated in order to feel love. How about a summary of some points recently brought to my attention?

First of all, I need attention. I need a lot of attention. I crave it. I fear that if I don’t receive enough, I will go slipping off the face of the earth, and no one will ever notice. It seems that many people need much less of this precious commodity than I. And I tend to berate myself for craving so much from others. But once I accept my need for attention, I see that there are many people out there more than willing to give it. Besides, I am always excited to attend to others. When people bless me with their interest, they receive it back. The difficulty, for me, is asking for this attention.

I also need touch. I used to shun physical contact. I was so protective of my body, I couldn’t handle any sort of invasion. Now, I long for someone to reach out and hold me. I ask for hugs. I need them. I need these things. No shame in that.

I also need challenge. I need people who challenge me intellectually, especially. And this can be hard to find. I’m an intelligent woman, and I find myself bored by some crowds. It’s a treasure to find someone I can learn from. Of course, I learn something from everyone, even people who might be categorized as “less intelligent” than I. Perhaps emotional intelligence is more specifically what I crave. People courageous enough to look deep and make bold statements fascinate me. Knowledge of politics, engineering, history, or any particular topic only half-impresses me. People with self-knowledge and a spirit hungry to learn more…now that intrigues me.

I try to cultivate these same abilities and interests in myself as I interact with others. I seek not just to learn facts, but to remain hungry for any kind of knowledge. I pay attention to what people say and do and attempt to verbalize things I notice. And I am willing to touch others, to give myself to them. All of these developments come at their own pace within me. It can be tough to sit still and truly be with someone, to put my racing mind on the backburner. But it hurts people’s feelings when I am only partially with them. I can turn off my cell phone and release my to-do list long enough to have a thirty minute conversation. I hope to receive that from others.

I can be vulnerable and give someone a hug, come closer and really look someone in the eye. I can ask people questions about their lives instead of always trying to give them advice about how I think they should live it. They probably know best what to do for themselves. Personally, I want help making up my own mind, not the ideas of others forced upon me.

It can be difficult to remember these things when faced with people who have not developed these characteristics or curiosities. I can forget how important it is to truly pay attention to someone when I am not being paid attention to in a kind, caring way. I begin to think that that sort of self-involvement is perfectly fine. But it’s not. I can be concerned with myself. I must take care of myself first. But when I am engaged with someone else, I must ALSO consider the other person. I am not the only one who matters. Being with people who are overly concerned with themselves is tiring and frustrating. Distraction like that impedes connection. Perhaps there are relationships I have grown away from. People change, after all, and we cease to connect sometimes.

So I cherish the reminders I receive from people as they pay attention to me. It spurs me on to pay attention to others. When touched, I am more ready to touch. When challenged, I am more ready to challenge. Love is out there. And I’m learning where I can expect to receive it, where I like to give it, and where I am not receiving what I need. In the end, I hope to let it all go and pursue true love.

I am ready to take care of myself. And I am ready to be taken care of. Relationships teach me how to do these things.

Random Words /  by Michelle Cowan

Don’t hurt yourself! You just tripped on my cloak of fabulosity!

I know it’s tempting to tread on my amazing qualities, but please don’t. I want you to glory in your shining, authentic self. Please let me glow in mine.

And do not try to force me to wear your cloak. I like who I am. If you want me to be like you, I need to reexamine how close I let you get to my wardrobe.

Late Bloomer? /  by Michelle Cowan

I heard stories yesterday about people’s pasts. Every now and again, curiosity crops up in me about what life would have been like had I not been so distracted by my eating disorder during high school and college. In many ways, I feel like I fell behind, and these recovery years somewhat reflect a struggle to catch up with my peers.

Many people my age won promising internships during college that have enabled them to step directly into the field of their choice, receiving healthy paychecks for work they are trained for and talented at. Others were able to get into fabulous schools out of high school and college, and such schools often provide stepping stones and assistance in job placement. I feel like others spent time figuring out what they wanted to do, while I was busy flailing about, knowing only that I didn’t want to be doing the things I was doing then.

I see people who are successful in graduate school, well on their way to professorships. I see people working as assistants or even editors in the publishing field thanks to prestigious internship programs. I see others acting or singing, recording songs and even selling them because they spent time honing their craft and meeting significant people.

And I feel left behind. I still don’t feel secure enough in recovery to devote myself to more graduate study. I missed the publishing internships, which is definitely a strike against me; no two ways about it. But I cannot change that past. I never joined a band, never made music contacts, but I can’t change my previous disinterest and fear. I can only live now. I can take this life for what it is. However, that doesn’t make me feel like less of a failure when the thoughts come.

But last night shifted my perspective a bit. I sat in a room with other women of different ages, all with eating disorders. None of them are bums, nor would I consider any of them unsuccessful. But many started late. And here’s the kicker, they’re stronger for it.

I began to see my life as a flower that did not bloom late, but in perfect time. I have been given things I’m ready for as life has prepared me for them. And now, I am starting to see how recovery has prepared me for things I would not be able to understand or embrace without it. And if I had been given an internship or if I were still in graduate school, I would not be having a pleasant time. My recovery has come at just the right moment. I feel strong. When I am in a recovered state of mind, I love life as it is, without attaining any dreams. Paradoxically, as I let go of endless striving, many of my dreams have been fulfilled.

I strongly believe that I exude a maturity only developed through facing such a difficult personal trial. I am still immature in many ways. I often feel not quite as experienced as most others my age. However, many of those people do not have the same type of hard-fought personal maturity I do. They do not know how to be alone with themselves or what introspection means. They can’t empathize with people who struggle with personal strongholds (though they will surely experience one themselves at some point). They may be more socially astute, more sexually experienced, and at a more prestigious place in their careers, but many lack the depth I saw in the women I spoke with last night. They will get it eventually. Everyone learns the same lessons, just at different times in life.

I saw so clearly last night that my job matters very little in terms of advancement or prestige. What matters is that I truly enjoy doing it or that I can make enjoyable somehow. I am where I need to be. And I honestly believe that.

I have significant space in my life allotted for recovery, significant space for friends, for introspection, for writing, for music, for family. I don’t work sixty hours per week, and I would not want to. I do not enjoy my job nearly enough for that. But I also have no residual stress from my job. I have flexible hours and great friends to talk to throughout the day. My work location is convenient, and I do get projects I get lost in from time to time. When I’m not engrossed in a project, I deal with the boredom by reaching outside my work and living life even while there. I have numerous gifts.

I saw that one’s occupation need not define her. Some people identify closely with their work. Eventually, I hope to, too. To be a “writer” or a “musician” or a “speaker” who makes her living by her craft definitely appeals to me. But for now, I do not identify greatly with my job. People ask what I do, and I tell them. But I also tell them that I am a writer at heart, that I do music, and that right now, I’m concentrating on friends, family, and personal development. Those are my real occupations.

And I can trust that the time will come for me to experience my vocation. One day, I, too, might have a family and get swept away in that. I might do just about anything. But recovery appears to be a precursor to all of it. When I deny that, my need for recovery asserts itself, as I’ll find myself having difficulty with food or anxiety. The world doesn’t value recovery and often doesn’t understand it. But attention must be paid to that area first in order for anything else fulfilling to happen. I gain no prestige for the time I take off to go to therapy, to try new foods, to stretch myself. The world does not mark these on a scale of success. But I do. I am successful. And yes, I may not reach the upper echelons of corporate life or garner an enormous paycheck. I may never have a highly respected profession. But I will have a fulfilling life.

I had graduate school. I lived in another country. I did all of that. And I was miserable because I couldn’t figure out how to stay in recovery there. Daily, I choose to give up the things the world prizes for a deeper peace. And it’s okay. I see how these other women’s lives have taken turns without much manipulation or scheming on their part. They simply recover, follow their dreams, and move with life. So will I. And I will be happy.