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

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

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

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

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

Marketing - Let's Think about It

Want a glimpse into why teens and adults have such a skewed sense of self and desire? Part of the reason is marketing, and if you haven't already seen them, watch these two PBS Frontline reports that do an excellent job of investigating a both intriguing and repulsive world. It makes me sad for our teenagers, for everyone as consumers, and even for myself. But it also spurs me toward action. These reports are not new, but their message is still more than relevant. What do they spark within you?

The Merchants of Cool
The Persuaders

Media and marketing are not all bad. They can spawn innovation, creativity, and countless other valuable things. How would any message, positive or negative, spread without some form of marketing or media distribution?

But the dark side should be considered. What can we do about it? It's a little overwhelming for me. Can we band together to make a difference?

I guess that this is where organizations like Mind on the Media come in. Let's do our part to take some action!

Getting Real, Giving Out, and Giving Away

Okay, I'll admit it; the hurricane was a difficult event for me. (I'm resisting the urge to call it a "traumatic incident.") My power only stayed out for two days, I had everything I needed, and I received some outside support, but yes, I went through it alone. And that can be traumatic. (Okay, there, I used the word.)

It directed me into touch with new, strong parts of myself, but it also prompted a lot of emotions that I resisted and suppressed in order to get through the event itself. Now, the emotions are bubbling to the surface. Things having to do with my family, with relationships, with myself and my own history. All of it. Plus, I felt unempathized with.

I didn't have much physical upheaval other than the loss of some fridge food, a bit of car and window leakage, and a couple of hot days without electricity. But I didn't have the direct emotional support many others experienced. Oftentimes, helping someone else makes it easier to get through trials. In families, that kind of bonding/mutual assistance typically occurs naturally. I chose to ride it out alone and was not completely prepared for all that it exposed, finding myself without a ready shoulder to lean on.

So here I am, feeling the emotions and letting them play out as usual, learning many new things about life, the world, and myself. Sigh...

So where does the self-absorption end and the giving begin? I want to give of myself to a greater cause. I am admittedly reconsidering doing Team in Training, wondering if primarily nostalgia motivated me. Despite all of my very real and valuable reasons for wanting to participate, maybe it's time to raise money or advocate in a new way, for difference organizations, using methods that better reflect who I am today...

Still, I learned today that the Honored Hero I am training on behalf of passed away on Tuesday. Ten-year-old Johnny Romano, skateboarder extraordinaire. It shook me up a bit. He was so, so young... Keep his family in your thoughts/prayers.

At the same time, I wonder if I'd be better off advocating on behalf of ANAD or NEDA or NOW's Love Your Body project. There are also a few literacy groups I stand behind, not to mention the fabulous program Purple Songs Can Fly at Texas Children's hospital. The latter is connected with cancer support services, giving kids in treatment the opportunity to write and record their own songs. It's an amazing program, and I hope to be up there helping in the coming weeks.

For now, I want to be content giving as I can give right now, living life as a light to others. I want to do my part for the community. I want to help. But time is limited. My energy is limited. I have quite a bit to offer, though, and am longing to do so. I want to see where I should invest my resources.

Part of me would like to fundraise for one of the causes I mentioned above by coming up with my own fun events and ideas. We'll see what surfaces. It's always a good time to give, and I'm hungry for it right now. Reaching deep within often leads to reaching back out. Here I am, an emotional basket case, admittedly so, but knowing that perspective is in order. I give myself time to work out the kinks and also give some time away... I'm praying for inspiration for where to send it.

Learning to Relax

I could blog. I could write. I could clean my bathroom and mop the floor. But no, I want to eat a giant sandwich and watch Project Runway! And I'm letting myself.

Can't I give myself a break? I balanced my checkbook; paid my rent, water, and electricity; started my laundry; and reprogrammed my cell phone earlier today. That's a significant number of accomplishments. Hey, I even wrote a song. No kidding. Not sure how it happened, but it flowed.

Then again, I do know how it happened. I'm letting myself go with the flow. I'm letting myself enjoy. I could have gone to help clean up a city park today, but I was too tired to even begin to get out of bed before 10am. I've been letting myself flit around this morning, resulting in a freeness of mind. It's okay not to accomplish everything on my list of to-dos.

Nothing terrible is going to happen if I don't get my car shampooed today. (My attempts at post-flood cleanup left things worse than before, I think...but the smell is masked!) Same goes for cleaning the bathroom. It can wait another day. I can enjoy one day of my weekend, sleep in, and just take it as it comes. It's okay. My desires are welcome.

And looking back, as I listed earlier, I've still managed to do plenty of the tasks I had set before me. I didn't even mention the research I did into a new cell phone and laptop! Relaxing alone is an accomplishment. I feel good.

Anyway, I've reached out to a friend today. I'm sure I'll reach out more later. It's the ebb and flow of life, I'm learning. I venture into myself, I relax, I go back out, I fight the hard fight, I venture back in. It's a little cycle, and I never know how long I'll be in any stage or what that stage will look like exactly.

The main thing is that I'm still enjoying life. Maybe that seems ridiculous to some, considering the amount of effort I expend simply giving myself permission to do what I want to do, but I am enjoying life. I like the way I over-analyze a bit. It's okay. Everything belongs, right? In its own portion.

And you can do it, too. Let yourself relax. Eventually, the tasks that really need to be done will rise to the surface. By then, you may even WANT to do them. Why force yourself to do them now if they are, in fact, non-essential? Of course, there are certain things we must force ourselves to do sometimes. Why not embrace the moments when forcing things isn't necessary?

I mean, I can't watch Project Runway FOREVER, can I? Can I?...

#

Check it out: I ended up blogging anyway, without even realizing what I was doing... ;)

The Simple Life

I am officially in love with riding my bike (as if that wasn't apparent before). I hate traffic. Finally, I feel like being on my bike puts me ahead of the rest. It's freeing to know the back ways to get places, even when I do have to take my car. Getting to work by bike is a normal activity for me now, so it's no problem to two-wheel it in lieu of fighting lines at flashing stop lights and wasting precious gasoline.

Sitting in traffic makes me scream and cry and beat my steering wheel...and I mean literally. (I have the bruised forearms to prove it.) My stress levels rise that high.

In contrast, the time on my bike before and after work provides a space where I do nothing but travel. I don't think of it as exercise, and other potential daily activities don't enter my mind much. The only goal is a destination. The only objective is to stay safe on the road. Simple.

I desire simplicity more and more these days. Simple lifestyles attract me. I want to live in a community where I don't have to go far for anything essential, where my friends are near, where my interactions are not mitigated by layers of electronic facilitation. I like the idea of a few friends, a few things to do, a generous amount of time, and a whole lot of love. In many ways, the hurricane gave me a glimpse into that, and riding my bike expresses in a small way the simplicity my heart longs for. Thank you for beautiful weather and good health.

(Playing my guitar gets me back to basics, too.)

Recovery Is Real Website

I have been working on and off (mostly off) on a website showcasing the blogs of people who have recovered from eating disorders. It will possibly be expanded to showcase stories of such individuals and the vibrant lives they live, but for now, I'm pretty much just compiling a list of bloggers who have recovered. I want to show people that it is possible and that anyone, no matter how deep the suffering, can go on to do amazing things.

The blogs do not have to be about eating or body-related issues. They simply have to be written by someone who has recovered from an eating disorder of any kind.

If you are interested in helping with this effort or know of some blogs I could use, please contact me. Thanks and well wishes!

No electricity breeds creativity...and exhaustion...

I like to think I'm strong, that I can make it through anything. But hurricane aftermath? That might be my breaking point.

Suffice it to say that I am filled with immense gratitude. My water and power came back on Sunday afternoon. And although my cell phone drowned in a flooded street and my car smells like a swamp, I am blessed with an absence of the incredible difficulties so many people I know are facing.

Still, the backed up traffic brings me to tears. The shortened grocery store hours and long gas station lines make me frantic. Naturally, my shelves were fully stocked before the hurricane, and I continue on without need of anything. But everything has been thrown off, and that seems to be enough for me to break down.

However, for someone who struggles with change and for whom acclimation comes slowly, I did quite well during the storm. Years of awareness surrounding my trouble with non-routine times have made me quite an expert in preparation and coping. I was ready for the storm, and I continue to provide for my needs and those of people who come across my path. Good stuff.

To brag or not to brag? Brag! I made a stupendous apple crisp after the storm once I discovered that the ice cream shop across from my apartment had opened for business. (Baked desserts are only half-complete without a creamy, melt-a-licious topping.) The family who owns the shop still has no power at their house. No wonder they chose to go to work instead of roast at home!

Baking the dessert, talking to the shop owner's family, coming up with a fun way to kill a few hours... That little part of my week illustrates the things I find most excellent about disaster: people get to know one another and people discover their own creative coping skills. I now know more of my neighbors than I ever thought possible. I asked for help in tough circumstances and received it! I discovered that I have a knack for creating fabulous meals from only canned items. I also realized how blessed I am to enjoy reading and other non-electric-dependent activities. I have also learned how to strike up conversations with almost anyone. During the hurricane, my neighbors and I did it because we were bored. Now, I do it because I'm curious.

I love watching people who are able to handle discomfort well. Several folks at my office still without power are chugging along remarkably well. They take it step by step and simply do the next thing that needs to be done. Inconvenience leads to simplification. Just do the next thing.

In the midst of it all, I'm fine. Still writing music. Still planning on doing the half-Ironman (although I must confess that the training for that ranks very low on my list of priorities at the moment). Still calling friends, going to work, and getting outside and enjoying. I still have my endless list of to-dos, but I remain thankful that cleaning up a yard full of tree limbs or salvaging the contents of a flooded house do not count among my concerns.

Gratitude for sure. This life is a miracle, moment by moment.

Photos

Yes, I know some of you have wondered, "Why don't you post any pictures on your site or blog?" Well, because this blog is partially about eating disorders, I don't want to put any images up that could be fodder for appearance-comparison games. However, that motivation is lessening. (People can compare outside appearances if they want and decide on their own how healthy that is.)

Unfortunately, as I blogged about recently, thieves broke into my car and stole my camera, along with my iPod, my precious Alvarez guitar, its case, and my priceless songwriting notebook. They took a swimsuit and my good kaiki capris, but those items meant significantly less to me - but it does say a bit about the people who took them.

If I had a camera, I would take some good shots and upload them. Soon enough, people. Soon enough. I tend to procrastinate on making big purchases like that. So far, I have a camera, a new laptop, and a vacation lined up for future expense. Hopefully, I will gain the courage to give myself the gift of spending that money, but it just seems like I'm not saving as much as I'd like right now... I struggle a lot with finding financial balance, treating myself with generosity while exercising responsibility for my future needs. Learning, learning.

In any case, the camera is coming up soon. I figure it will be worthwhile on that vacation...

Coming Off the High

I feel a bit discouraged today, a typical occurrence after the kind of high I had over the weekend. I felt immensely supported and appreciated. My performance on Sunday went well, plus I received some serious spiritual nurturing while talking to my best friend and others throughout the past few days. That deep sense of connection mattered more than I expected. I also visited the home of an artist who creates beautiful paintings. I felt privileged simply to get to know this person, not to mention the work we did together on an art/music project on Saturday. I scoped out her studio and her home, which felt comfy and accepting, like a family -- or rather, the way we wish family would be

I have found myself trying to strike out, away from my family of origin just a bit. I adore my parents and feel loved by them, but I also hunger for a family of my own choosing, a family made up of friends and supportive people who know me in different ways. I am seeing that family sprout up around me, and I felt fantastic gratitude for it over the past two days.

It's strange to feel so absolutely fulfilled and then to feel quite alone. Today, I have called people, I have reached out, but my heart is aching. I know exactly what it aches for, but no action on my end can sate this hunger. Do you ever have those same yearnings? Are there things in your life that you want but cannot have? This sort of thing cuts a person like me to ribbons, a person who has discovered that people can have pretty much anything they want just by dreaming and asking and working and remaining open to receive. Then, here I am, faced with something I cannot get for myself, not this time.

In any case, this is a typical dip for me. I just came off of a fulfilling, nourishing time, and it's hard for the rest of life to live up to that standard. I am feeling my loneliness right now and also reveling in a pool of joy left over from the weekend. It's there, but my sadness is, admittedly, clouding it a bit.

Nonetheless, I am resurrecting my spirit by writing this piece, by thinking about music, reading and learning things today. I have reached out, and I am embracing this day for what it is.
I remain confident that I will continue to make decisions that reflect who I am and what I desire while also accepting the pullback resulting from taking such confident actions. I'm a bit tired and did a lot of socializing, so perhaps it is okay to pull inward a bit before stepping back out again, ready to take on the new challenges I've set for myself. Off we go.

Team in Training Memories

Ah, Team in Training... Let's return to the spring of 2003, when I had just moved back to Texas from an internship in Florida, and one of my two new roommates, Jenny, talked me into training with her for the Capital of Texas Triathlon in Austin, TX. At the time, I bingeing heavily and regularly; however, I had just switched my major to English and felt more positive about completing college than ever. I was beginning to make decisions based on my own interests, a novel thing for me as I was only then starting to differentiate between my true interests and the things I was "supposed" to be interested in for whatever reason.

What's more, I had proved through my full-time working internship that I could, in fact, complete difficult tasks and structure my own life somewhat. I was a functional ED sufferer on a VERY bumpy path to recovery. In fact, I did not believe in recovery at that point. I didn't believe in very much at all. But for some reason, I said yes to Jenny and decided to train.

Finishing was my only goal. I knew I could no longer put up the blistering running times I had in high school, and somehow, I had reached a point of acceptance. It must be said, for this is no small factor for me and the way I view fitness, body size, and recovery, that I was considerably heavier at the time of this training and racing than I am now. My weight stayed fairly consistent at this point; I suppose my body had learned my regular starvation/binge cycle. Nonetheless, I knew I was larger than our society's ideal. But after only a few weeks of training, I learned to love my body again. Only at age 20 did I truly begin to explore and appreciate my body, just as it was.

Even at my heightened weight, I raced faster than most people on our team. I knew it and harbored a special pride in it. I can affirm without hesitation that, despite the undeniable insanity of the bingeing, I was in the best shape of my life, aside from high school. Because of this experience, I am certain that body size does not directly indicate a person's fitness level or athletic ability. One of many, many lessons in not judging a book by its cover.

As for other lessons, Team in Training sustained me socially. Even though I made no close friends on the team, I at least gained surface-level friends. TnT events and training meetings provided me a place to go when I might otherwise have been bingeing or sinking into isolation. I didn't realize the importance of this structure at the time, but looking back, I can see how the training and fundraising gave me motivation beyond myself, kept me going to class, and offered structure to the chaos that was my existence.

As I wrote fundraising letters and people responded, I realized how many people in my life truly cared, not just about fighting blood cancer, but about me. I also received numerous personal stories from people who had survived or suffered with or knew someone who had cancer and met many who had participated in similar programs. I felt a positive connection to the world, a world that I otherwise classified as bleak, selfish, and unfeeling. I didn't recognize the window that was being opened at the time. Caring about others and feeling good about myself = a MAJOR breakthrough.

My first Team in Training experience came at a crucial juncture. I was making choices to finish school, to be responsible, to be honest, to have relationships with others, to go to class, to be involved in life at least somewhat. My living quarters were no longer a disaster area. I could face myself and learned to love myself just as I was. Even in a funk, I could get up and go to a fundraising event. I learned about my body and what felt good and what felt bad.

In any case, I hope this next Team in Training experience will prove even more impactful. I hope to be more mindful than last time of all the fabulous benefits involvement with this program affords. I can't wait to meet the honored hero I will be racing for, to start raising money, and to spread the word.

Significant Reflections ~

Back in 2003, having a fundraising website was almost unheard of. Now, it's a requisite! Feel free to visit mine at http://pages.teamintraining.org/txg/lstri09/mcowan to read more or donate funds. Believe me, even a couple of bucks helps!

Let's hope I swallow less drainage water during the swim. Jenny and I both thought we were going to die, not of exhaustion, but of some kind of poisoning, after the last race. The combo of rain runoff and Powerbar gels just doesn't work with post-triathlon fajitas... Ugh... I'll know better this time.

I also recall the severe cottonmouth experience during a 3.5-hour bicycle road ride just south of Lubbock. Instead of mixing Gatorade with water, I had the brilliant idea to buy Propel Fitness Water. Never again! Not as much energy as the Gatorade/water mix and twenty times the stuffy mouth. I couldn't even talk afterward! Craziness. Absolute craziness.

I'll never forget my long swims in the University pool with its convenient removable top or the incredible rides in Ransom Canyon. The triathlon also spurred consistent riding around the Canyon Lakes for the rest of my college career. I'll never forget riding my regular Canyon Lake trail through the Windmill museum and beside the Joyland Amusement Park, taking pictures the week of my college graduation. Patterns and structure I set for myself while participating in Team in Training stuck with me throughout school and into the recovery I experienced in 2005.

There are deep reasons why I love physical activity. I love the meditative mood it puts me in, the removal from all else going on in my life. I adore being outside and flowing somehow with nature or taking control and tackling tough obstacles and hills on my bike. And there are the memories, the memories that bubble up to join me each time I get on the road or take to the pool. Today, I get to create more.

Yes, I'm racing to find a cure, I'm racing for those suffering with blood cancers, but I'm also racing for myself and anyone else who is trying to find his or her way out of other illnesses and disorders...or disorder in general. I truly love that girl who raced her heart out in Austin in 2003. She didn't know she'd be here in five years; she didn't believe life could be this happy. I'm glad I proved her wrong.

Can Eating Disorder Recovery and Half-Ironman Training Coexist?

Conclusion: Yes.

Lately, I have felt considerably spent and resentful of certain other people in my life. Upon deeper investigation, I realized that I was allowing my explorations into the interests of others to take up all my time, leaving nothing for the pursuit of my own desires.

I say repeatedly that I'm "into" or "all about" music, but it has been months since my last open mic. I claim to be a writer but do no writing, having not taken the initiative to write a new article for work or on my own in weeks. And I frequently deny parts of who I am, such as the enjoyment I get from eating good food and participating in physical activities.

I'm going back to the beginning. What are the things that have always nourished me, that I can see myself going to as a child for centering and fun? Music, writing, lying around thinking and enjoying, running outside and playing. I remember thoroughly enjoying food and baking quite well. I also read, learned, and created things with my hands.

Today, I can still embrace all of these things and incorporate them into my job, my relationships, and my personal life. I do not need to be ashamed of any of the parts of myself, including the "cheesy" spiritual and recovery parts.

So, I recently made the decision to start actively pursuing more of the things I always say I'm "into." I may find I'm not so into those things anymore, or I may discover a new level of fulfillment. In any case, soon after I made that decision, I received a last minute request to perform my music for friends and strangers this weekend. A freelance writing opportunity came up. Plus, I signed up to do the Lone Star Half-Ironman with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Team in Training program. Choosing to accept these challenges for myself takes a great amount of faith.

Although I raised $2400 and completed an Olympic-length triathlon with the Team in Training in 2003, I have since shied away from competitive athletic events because I associate them with my eating disorder. However, about a year and half ago, I reconnected with my physically active self and started to embrace my natural abilities and the nourishment moving my body gives to my soul. As long as I keep it fun and don't tell myself I "have" to do this or that exercise, I stay on a healthy plane. That remains the plan during half-Ironman training.

After weeks with the idea of re-joining Team in Training repeatedly nagging me, I finally bit the bullet and signed up on Thursday. It felt so right. The camaraderie, the amazing cause, the challenge of raising that much money. It all comes at a wonderful, celebratory time in my life. I want others to recover from their illnesses just as I have been able to recover from mine. During training, I will continue to explore new foods and new ways to utilize my body. I intend to get in even better touch with myself than I already am while also getting out of myself to help others.

Additionally, I thrive on team activities. It's what I grew up with. During my teen years especially, my life was highly organized. Meeting friends in structured group settings works for me, and I choose to embrace that now instead of running away from it as a deficiency. I no longer "need" to join organizations or teams to have a social life, but it feels good to do so. I no longer "need" to exercise heavily, but I can challenge myself in activities I already know I enjoy.

I plan to take a look back at the last Team in Training season I participated in for my next blog. For now, though, I'm looking ahead and feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for where my life is today, the people in it, and the things I am miraculously able to do.

Equally Bad

What if every choice were equally bad? Of course, if that were the case, every choice would be equally good, too, but it seems to be more different and interesting for me to use the term "bad" here. I always want to do the "best" thing, habitually stymied by decision-making. I often eat in lieu of making decisions. I focus on what is easy for me - food - instead of simply making a choice.

After I confessed this aloud to someone, she kindly told me that the basic act of making a decision is a gift. Why not give myself the gift of making a decision, even if it might not be the best one? And furthermore, what if there were no best?

For some reason, my mind immediately jumped to the idea that if all choices were equal, they would all be equally bad. So what did it matter what I chose?

What if I started bingeing, called a friend, and told that friend that I was bingeing and wanted to hear what he/she thought about that? What if I drove across town, then out of town, and then across the state? What if I didn't clean my bathroom and allowed myself to lie around and read all Saturday? What if I didn't try to write music? For me, some of these things are far-fetched; others are not. They are all completely doable, but would I do them? Would I choose not to? In my new case scenario, it doesn't matter anyway.

Does it all come down to just doing SOMETHING? Well, I don't think so. I think my main difficulty here may be in the focus on DOING rather than BEING. Can I just BE? But in choosing to just be, isn't that doing something? Doesn't being hold doing inside of it?

This is where my mind goes when I cease putting restrictions on it and allow all thoughts equal reign. Of course, even that isn't really happening. My brain is filtering out a lot of thoughts simply so that I concentrate on the act of writing this piece.

I started a few little writings today, including one on stream-of-consciousness living (pretty close to what's going on right now in this post) and one on the best vegetarian pizza in town (the results of my current quest). The latter post, however, aroused my hunger for pizza from a place I'd never tried. So I did, resulting in incredible disappointment which completely threw me for a loop. I found myself re-roasting vegetables from last night's dinner and eating partially cooked pieces while standing up in the kitchen. I jumped back and forth between reading a book, eating, and watching the Olympics for a while before deciding to clean the bathroom, vacuum my entryway and welcome mat, and take the recycling to the drop-off. Stream-of-consciousness living, just going from one thing to the next as it presents itself. It's not so fun for me, considering the number of thoughts that pop up at any single moment throughout the day, but I fell into the pattern.

Even now, I'm not sure where this post is going except that I do not want to judge my behavior right now. I don't feel like making plans with anyone, but if someone called, I would probably agree to go do something. I might let myself read. I keep trying to write songs and keep coming up with lots of half-formed things. It feels like fail, fail, fail with music these days.

Admittedly, part of my drive to not judge my behavior is an attempt to forgive myself for my lack of songwriting and performing lately. And as I go back, editing this post, I see that the many half-songs I've created may later turn into whole-songs or serve as catalysts for something entirely new. In fact, I can see that I've done a lot today, not just with music, but in general.

It's okay if I want to read and watch television. It can be okay. So what if I'm not striving after my dreams? Do I have to? Why? Can I choose anything and be okay?

In any case, I'm sure this post exposes the deep-seeded insanity that resides within me. I could never deny it. What you read now is a product of my seemingly innate tendencies to over-think and romanticize. I can go a long time ignoring my thoughts and pretending they aren't there while I'm really just storing up dozens, or maybe hundreds, of jumbled thoughts, questions, and dreams, which spill out on solitary Saturdays like this.

Perhaps one day, I will get my ED community site up and running, perhaps I will write a book, perhaps I will, perhaps I will. Perhaps all these things are equally bad. And maybe all I really want or need to do is sit and read. Can I give myself permission to make that choice? Will I give myself permission to achieve nothing?

I Wish

I wish a lot of things. I wish I didn't focus so much on food during times of transition. I wish I were the lead singer of a rock band. I wish just one of the starring actresses in the movie I just saw was not uncomfortably thin. I wish I had infinite energy and no fear.

I wish. I wish. I wish.

Time to stop wishing and start seeing. I can envision what I want and work to create that. I can simultaneously accept life and myself as-is, in love.

I struggle and struggle to feel good or solid or something unnamable. But I only really feel like myself when I stop struggling and start accepting and enjoying, wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, in that moment. Life teaches me to enjoy and appreciate the process, instead of fretting over the goal.

Bottom line: I feel a little mixed-up right now, but I want to go with it and trust that I will end up in a beautiful place. I am safe anywhere...

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!