I have a new channel on YouTube - http://www.youtube.com/user/MichelleCowanOnline.
Go there and check out an amazing video of me performing "Without a Promise" edited by Mark Larsen at The Artery. He does such professional work. The link directly to the video is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hzIl2X22Rs.
I used to think people with eating disorders inhabited one of three spaces: in the disease, in recovery, and recovered. I thought people cycled through those phases, perhaps returning to one place or another along the way. Many times in support, 12-step, or therapy groups, a member will say, “I’ve been there before,” or, “I’m back in that place again,” or, “I’m afraid of going back to that place.” According to that view, I’ve been in recovery since 2004, and I was in the disease from 1998 until then. According to that view, I am climbing some sort of mountain or walking down a road of recovery, where I get ever farther away from where I started, and if I find myself in a place that seems like something I’ve seen before, I’ve somehow magically been transported to an earlier pit stop in my recovery. I’ve fallen backward.
I do not agree. For one thing, you could say I was in recovery for a brief period in 1999. You could say I was “in recovery” multiple times during that pre-2004 period. If someone looked at my life since 2004, he or she would certainly find times that could be classified as “in the disease” as well as times when I operated as a truly recovered person.
I am convinced that there are more than three places, and that those places are not linear. The terms “in the disease,” “in recovery,” and “recovered” are too convenient and simple to be altogether true. Sure, they describe very important eras within the life of someone with an eating disorder, but if I try to define my life in those terms, I feel pretty hopeless.
If I lived in this rigidly defined mindset, I would ask myself again and again, “Why am I in this place again? Why am I doing this? I thought I was past this.” I might devalue truly healthy moments, when I lived free of the ED, if I looked at my life since 2004 as exclusively one thing: in recovery. And I might exaggerate the darkness of all the days before 2004 if I consider saw it all as “in disease” time. It makes my progress seem like an unending struggle when, in fact, I had many lengthy periods of respite and many leaps in growth.
Every day in my life is a new one. It cannot be defined in terms of disease, recovery, and recovered. At any point, I might identify more with one of those terms, but the truth is that even when I am struggling with the disease and when I feel I am overeating or exercising too much, I am still healthier and more mature than I was during some times when I considered myself more “recovered.”
Yes, I want to eventually live in “recovered” full-time. I’m not there yet, but I certainly shouldn’t eliminate the possibility that I have been somewhere that looks an awful lot like “recovered” before. And I shouldn’t eliminate the possibility that any time I feel “recovered,” thousands of other states exist simultaneously. I may be recovered, but am I really healthy? Or enlightened?
I remember time periods when I felt free of the disease. I remember what I was doing, how I felt, how I related. That girl may not have been using food to cope, but she dealt with anxiety simply by organizing it out of her life, not by feeling it. She didn’t let people in. Certainly, my life was less rocky and angst-filled with fewer people in it; it was also less rich. I didn’t eat nearly the variety of foods I now enjoy regularly without bingeing or freaking out. To “keep” recovery, I had to make my days all very similar and predictable. I don’t have to do that anymore. But I will admit that my eating is not as steadily “perfect” as it once was.
At the very least, I am more myself now than I have ever been. The term “authentic self” has evolved into more than meaningless therapeutic jargon for me. It is how I live my life. In this life, I pursue my dreams, something I never did before. As I enter into new territory with my job, with music, with relationships, and with myriad other endeavors, I see how strong I am.
But at the same time, all these new experiences pile more stressors on. I can slip into ED thoughts and behaviors almost without realizing it. Every week is different. I veer more toward the ED some weeks and less toward it other weeks. It could even vary day to day.
Do the times I struggle mean that I am back in the disease? Do they mean that I have taken a step backward in recovery? No. I will never go back to those places, and I will never lose the recovery I have. My behaviors may not be what I want them to be, but I handle those behaviors far differently than in the past. I deal with them in a way that allows me to slowly move past and away from them rather than shoving them away as I did in previous years of recovery.
Should “recovered” be my all-encompassing destination? I don’t think so. It is one goal—one goal among many others, a goal than enables other achievements and a goal that is possible to attain only by reaching other goals.
Recovery does not follow a clear-cut timeline or maturity model. A person rarely gets to the “next step” in recovery, never to visit characteristics of previous steps again. Every person’s trajectory is very different. I may think that I have gone “back to step one,” that the behaviors I’m doing now are exactly the same as they were three years ago. I may think, “I moved past this! Why am I struggling in the same way again?” But am I really struggling in the same way? No. I am in a different place in my life.
How do I know that? Well, I am able to forgive myself more easily. My eating, although sometimes not what I would want it to be, does not determine how I feel about myself throughout the day. I am not ignoring these eating slips either. I am actively investigating them and learning new things every day. I am relating to people differently. I am taking risks. My life IS different. I am not in the same place again. If I stay curious and keep going, I will move past this place, too. I do not need to be afraid.
Refusing to believe in a linear timeline for recovery removes my tendency to judge others. People recovering from eating disorders sometimes refer to people as “not as far along in recovery.” It’s easy to label people that way and to pretend that I have been where those “newer” people are and have moved past it. But actually, where they are is very different from any place I’ve ever been. They have their own lives, their own personalities, the particulars of their disorders. I have my own. I might be able to relate, but I cannot say that I have been “in that place.” I can learn from even the “newest” person in recovery. That person may have already learned things that I do not know. They may be in a period of greater struggle, but that does not mean they are any further back in recovery than I am. I struggle, too, but my struggles are different. I acknowledge personal milestones and never have to give them back after a slip.
“The only direction is forward.” I believe this. I’m not sure who first said it or even where I heard it the first time, but it holds true. When I start getting down on myself because I’m “doing the same old thing” again, I ask myself, “Am I really doing exactly the same thing?” Usually, I am handling things a bit differently. Often, my food behaviors seem more amplified simply because I am willing to take a magnifying glass to them in ways I could not in previous years. I am moving forward. I am learning new things. Although my eating may not be where I want it to be, any number of other wheels in my life are rolling forward and getting stronger. The strengths I’m building in other areas will help me gain more mature eating patterns as well.
Sometimes I wonder if this new view is just a way of granting myself license to do whatever I want with food. Maybe it is. And maybe that’s what I want. I want to allow myself anything. Like any child, I might abuse that privilege at first. But only by building my own structures within that permission do I learn to behave more maturely with food.
This goes for anything in life. We are always moving forward. We are never stagnant unless we stop being curious, reflective, and inquisitive about our lives. If we ignore our lives and what happens around us, yes, we may stunt our growth. But most of us do not totally ignore our lives. Even if we move slowly, we move forward. Once a person learns something, she owns that learning forever. It could potentially get buried under other thoughts, but it remains, ready to be unearthed by a circumstance or feeling.
You are always moving forward. I know I am. I may feel disappointed in myself at times, but I handle disappointment differently than I did in the past. It’s time to appreciate where I am and actively grow from there. Every place in recovery is new.
So much is going on in the music-sphere lately! I have a musical theater audition coming up and a great jazz festival on the weekend of January 30th. These endeavors (along with opera training, writing songs, learning to record, and--oh yeah--regular life and work) are keeping me on my toes. Change is in the air, and I'm learning to let go. Status quo is comfortable, but it may be the enemy to happiness. I must be willing to let go of what I have now, even though I love it, in order to see the next chapter in my life.
This is an exciting time. Slowly, I'm learning to go to bed without finishing every task, to take the events and curves life throws as they come (instead of spending every moment trying to avoid them), and do what I love without fear. These elements of life are key right now. As life gets busier, I want my internal world to grow calmer. I am sleeping a bit more, which has helped. And I'm telling people about my dreams, wants, plans, and loves. It's time for a change, to let go of what I don't love and walk toward the new... even if it means giving up a few things that help me feel secure.
There's nothing wrong with holding security close at times, but there's also a time to let go. I'm learning this. Always learning...
~~
And I have to throw in an advertisement for the jazz festival I mentioned. Check out my Gigs page for more information.
Trinity Jazz Festival
10th Annual ~ One of the Top Small Jazz Festivals in the Country
Check out www.trinityjazzfest.net for the full schedule. I'll be singing with Storyville, an amazing jazz group led by Paul English and Horace Alexander Young III. We will be doing vocal arrangements of instrumental compositions by Bach (Yes, Bach!) jazz style. We sound amazing, and the rhythm section playing with us will add to the perfection of this music. Trust me, you WANT to hear this.
The festival lasts all weekend, from Friday, January 28, through Sunday, January 30, and you should definitely go see the headliners and other performers. But Storyville will be performing (for FREE) only on:
Sunday, January 30
10:30 a.m. and 12:30 a.m. (pick the time you want to come)
at
Trinity Episcopal Church
1015 Holman @ Main
Houston, Texas 77004
Our Sunday performances are absolutely free!!
For more information, go to www.trinityjazzfest.net.
I'm putting myself on vocal rest for a couple of days. A lot has been happening. I'm singing next Saturday with PIVO, a new jazz group I'm a part of. Check it out on my Upcoming Gigs page. Lots of singing lately, and it's time to slow down.
I'm learning to be more content with the less busy times of life. I have been trained value busyness more than relaxation. But one isn't better than the other. I tend to feel restless and anxious when gliding smoothly through life, as though I need to always be tackling a new stretch of whitewater. I'm pretty sure most people would drown if they paddled down rivers without any breaks from the rapids. Not appealing.
I need time to assess my creative endeavors, my relationships, and my work. The silences are critical to growing a greater understanding of myself, my life, and the world. It's time to take a step back and enjoy all the gifts I've been given, including those I have done nothing to achieve. I can sit and be content, enjoying the sun, the cool breeze, or a day without any commitments or duties. I can give a friend a call or just lay on my living room carpet, thinking and smiling. Will the world come crashing down? I think not.
I've learned that I always eventually get up from a period of rest and pursue something new. I enjoy achieving goals, and I enjoy rest, too. The fear that I will sink into idle stagnation is an unfounded lie. I can and do trust myself more and more each day. I trust myself to enjoy all the different feelings and parts of life.
The quiet times are the best times to hear new songs...
I realize that my posts have been incredibly infrequent and short lately, but that’s what happens when life gets busy. Music, recovery, love, life… I’m growing in multiple areas. If you were hoping for a long, detailed entry about my latest exploits, unfortunately, I still lack the time to provide it. But I will tell you where I’ll be playing this Friday at 6pm: Craft Salon!
PROW Houston is putting on a major shindig called Heart of Texas. There’s a $20 door fee, but inside you’ll find local food, local art, wine, and a silent auction—all benefitting three local charities: R3, New Spring, and the Museum of Cultural Arts Houston (MOCAH).
It’s a great way to support good things in Houston. Learn more about it on my Upcoming Gigs page. Or at the Facebook event: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=143097409067867.
Since I rarely get to catch up with you this way, I hope to see you there. Perhaps soon, my buzzing thoughts will make their way onto the computer screen. Until then, keep loving!
Visit my Upcoming Gigs page for more information.
Jennifer Grassman has kindly asked me to open for her at the Artery on October 23. It is an amazing location, and we will be shooting videos that will be posted all over the Web for your viewing pleasure. Jennifer is a truly special talent. This event reminds me how important creative connections can be and how inspiring it has been to work with so many talented individuals over the last few months. Hope to see you at the Artery!
I haven't disappeared! I'm just very busy working on lots of new projects. New songs are in the pipeline as well as some adventures in recording. I've also joined a new jazz ensemble that will be debuting this fall. It's all exciting, and you will get to hear about it... when I have a moment to breathe!
Until then, stay centered, take a few minutes for yourself to just DO NOTHING, and then smile. Life isn't that big a deal. It's fun. Believe me, I now know, it really is. I'm not always at the top of my game, and my anxiety still runs quite high. But I have enough experience under my belt to keep on going even when it gets tough. I hope you do the same.
I have many friends to thank for the progress that has been made this year. I can't ever do it alone, and I am grateful for all of you out there supporting me. I'll play you a song anytime... paid or not ;)
Thank you to everyone who came out last Saturday to Pie in the Sky Pie Co. to celebrate White Linen Night in the Heights. It was such a blast! Many, many people came out, and everyone seemed to be having a great time. I am particularly grateful that I was able to set up inside! Hot stuff... and I'm not just talking about me.
Anyway, I can't wait to see you for the next one. It was a very uplifting experience. Here's to more fun times!
Following my intuition is the right thing to do, but it is not always easy. Just because I want something does not mean I will be able to do or get it without emotional struggle. My advice to all of you: Go after what you desire, and allow yourself to be human and scared. Although you’re afraid, do it anyway.
I’m working on making more of a career for myself as a writer and as a musician, on making friends, and on making love… or perhaps… unmaking love. I don’t think the latter is possible, and it hurts quite a bit. But it also, strangely enough, makes me happy… I like that everything in my life is two opposites at once. For me, paradox is the rule and not the exception. Remember that when you feel the same difficult conflicts I feel.
Last week, I dog- and house-sat for a friend. The dog, although he is a rambunctious and rather large puppy, was no problem. Being away from home, however, sent me into a tailspin. My compulsion to control hasn't felt this strong in quite some time. I felt completely discombobulated (I love using that word!) and distant from myself.
The space around me nurtures me and in many ways, becomes a part of me. I have set up my life and my home in a comforting way that reflects who I am, my loves, and what I need. It was strange to live in a place where I wasn't sure I would have everything I needed. If my week had allowed for time to visit my apartment a few times, I might not have felt so stressed. But the week was a particularly busy one and also packed solid with rain, which increased the time I spent going anywhere to do anything. My desire for rest and dryness outweighed my desire to drive in the rain to soak up the Michelle-ness my apartment contains. At least, by putting aside the desire to run home, I attempted to let go of compulsion. Unfortunately, I never managed to fully shake the anxiety the plagued me all week.
It seems particularly strange to me how much more severe my anxiety was compared to when I go on vacation out of town. I discovered that, on holiday, I give myself permission to let things go, set aside my usual schedule, and take longer to do things. I prepare myself by building an awareness that things probably won't go as planned and that I may not always have everything that would make me comfortable. I remind myself that I can get or ask for what I need.
I did no such preparation—other than to pack a bag of clothes, sundries, and my favorite foods. It felt so frustrating to live in the same town as my comfortable space and not be in it. Instead, I was surrounded by other people's belongings, organized in ways that confused me. The puppy took up a lot of my time, as well as numerous social commitments, and I was constantly seeking out time to rest. It felt as though I was walking on a treadmill, with the movie backdrop version of my life scrolling past beside me. I was separate from my own life and couldn't find my groove. I also realized how challenging it is for me to give myself permission to NOT be and do everything "perfect Michelle" would do.
A couple days after the job began, I recognized that my discombobulation (word of words!) could be a good thing. Out of options and things that seemed controllable, I was letting go. I was learning to focus on the moment and release the things I could not change—at least a little bit. The items in the house, their organization, the dog, the messiness caused by the dog, the dampness, the strange bed, the alarm that didn't work, the new route to work—all of that had to be put to the side. I had to find strength and centeredness in myself.
Centering—that's what I said I needed all week. I fought my conditions. I fought the reality that I was not living in my apartment, and therefore, my schedule would not be the same. I was having to deal with people in my life that usually aren't present, too. An additional wrench in the works—I needed to release my time and relax in knowing that I would get my solitude eventually. I needed to ACCEPT what was instead of wishing for what I thought would be better.
Although I almost entirely accepted the situation by the end of the week, I only half-succeeded in centering myself. At times, times I felt completely present. But other times, I paced, ate, screamed, and fretted. My reaction surprised me, but it has revealed compulsions and personal characteristics I want to work on. I discovered that I am a loving human being who will give of herself to take care of others, but it reminded me that—alongside those qualities—I am an introvert. Although I learned that I am able to release more of my personal space that I could have in the past, I still hold onto many little habits and patterns that I falsely think will help control my environment.
I tend to want to exert complete sovereignty over the world in which I live, but that goal is impossible! I try to set things out a certain way, do laundry at a specified time, have everything I need present, not have people around when I don’t want them around. But with a dog, with friends, with loved ones, with traffic, with weather, with unexpected inconveniences, it just isn't possible to achieve the serene, orderly, and astonishingly sterile and empty life I try to create.
My utopia would have to be devoid of other human beings, animals, and nature in order to exist! Why would I want a life like that?
This week, from the security of my own apartment, I am focusing on staying present in the moment and allowing my life to not always go as I have planned. To have a rich life, I have to give up some of what I think it "should" be. At the very least, I need to examine my vision for my life and see if there is anything about it that wouldn't really be fun. Sure, a world with no unexpected messes would be great, but I'll never have a pet or houseguests that way. And constant safety would be wonderful, but when would I get to drive my car?
In short, I am happy to report that I am a loving introvert who can handle bumps in the road of life and create beautiful things from them. I'd just like to do less screaming, crying, bingeing, and worrying when I see the bumps coming… and especially when I'm imagining bumps that don't even exist yet.
On an online question and answer forum, where people pose questions to the entire web audience, I noticed that someone had asked (essentially), “Should I eat the cookie?”
The number and variety of responses alone was enlightening. It was like reading a transcript of all the voices that compete for my attention when I ask myself that very same question. Eating the cookie can become a debate by committee.
After reading most of the long list of answers, I mused at the number of people vying to offer the “right” answer, knowing that none of the responses would ever be the “right” one. When the debate begins in my head, I’m often searching for that illusive “right” choice. I’ve been around long enough to know that such a thing does not exist.
The answer to “Should I eat the cookie” is completely irrelevant, because the question itself is the only wrong thing in this scenario. Why is the question not: Am I hungry? Do I want the cookie? Can I afford the cookie? Is the cookie fresh?
“Should I eat the cookie?” encompasses all of those questions, but it also masks all of them. When “Should I eat the cookie?” is the question, eating the cookie becomes a test—something that will determine whether we or our decisions are good or bad.
When we ask, “Should I eat the cookie?”, we bury all of the questions listed above under a moral debate. However, I tend to think that we aren’t as concerned with burying those questions as the questions we’re more ashamed to ask, like:
Will others approve of me eating the cookie? Will this cookie lead to five more cookies? Would a “healthy” person eat this cookie? Would a “good” person eat this cookie? Am I a good person?
Instead of hiding the questions you want to ask, siphon through the ones that come to mind. Ask the appropriate questions. Ask the questions that matter, and don’t hide behind “shoulds.” Admit to the hidden questions and move past them to answer the most important ones: Am I hungry? Do I want the cookie?
Eating or not eating a cookie does not determine your worth. If the decision of whether to eat it is not a simple one for you, use the choice as an opportunity to ask yourself, “What am I hungry for? What do I really want?” The answer often isn’t food… even though sometimes it is ;)
Things are still going well, but life is busy. May has been a month of new experiences, including the completion of a pottery class. I highly encourage everyone to get out there and try something new this summer. My experiment with salsa is also going well. Hello advanced class!
I wanted to let you know that I will be playing at Boheme again on Saturday, June 12, from 6 to 9pm.
I'll also be playing as part of the Charter for Compassion series at Rothko Chapel on Sunday, June 27, from 10am to 12pm.
Check out the upcoming gigs page for more details.
Hope you're having a wonderful summer!
I recognize that my writing has been sporadic lately. I haven’t had many pivotal insights of an impersonal quality lately. There’s nothing I could write at this moment that wouldn’t amount to bearing my soul more than I care to at this point. Suffice it to say that I highly recommend looking at the deepest roots of any issues you may have. It may be painful, but it is worth it.
Over the past few weeks, I have been yelled at. I have been protected. I have been loved. I have been scrutinized. I have drawn closer to some people than I ever imagined, and I have found myself at a distance from people who once traveled very near to my heart.
It’s like waking up one day and realizing that I am a woman—an adult woman, not just a girl. And more than that, I have grown into a woman I like—not a perfect woman or anyone I thought I’d be, but someone I enjoy. There is no need to hate myself. There is every reason to be patient. All women are still little girls in part.
If I could admonish you to anything, it would be to embrace love and to do the thing that scares you. Those are the only two things I have found helpful in guiding my recent decision making: love and facing fear.
Always face the fear. You may have to cry the entire time, but face it and walk through it. Love keeps you alive.
Well, I'm at it again. If I said I was reminiscing about my time bingeing in college, I would be misrepresenting the current state of affairs. For the past two (possibly more) weeks, the binge has been all sorts of ON. I am not bingeing every day, nor am I eating all the time. However, most days, I cross the line. At least three times, I've completely gorged myself—and not on the low-cal fruit and veggie fare that has become a staple over the last couple of years. I'm veering more in the direction of my fantasies, the ones I never fulfilled during college—the boxes of cookies, assorted desserts, whole loaves of bread, and more.
I am completely aware of what I am doing as I do it. I know I'm eating too much, and I usually embark on the binge when not particularly hungry. I know that I am using food for the following reasons:
It’s a distraction from the overwhelming amount of things going on in my life. The vast majority of my life is positive and good. I feel empowered. Sure, I feel frustrated with my day job, longing to live without the time constraint of a 40 hour work week. But I am taking conscious steps to one day move into full time writing and music making. I struggle to remain patient as opportunities spring up around me and as I grow and mature in new ways. Doors are opening, new people are entering my world, and I am uncovering untapped emotional worlds to investigate and unknot.
These are all positive movements, but movement requires energy. And if I don’t know where I’m moving, it entails fear. It’s difficult for me to book gigs, which requires facing rejection and dealing with unpredictable (and often unreliable) human beings. As I deepen my relationships with others, I trust and am let down multiple times. I wonder if I really am strong enough to continue to speak my truth and be myself out in the world. Will people like my music? Will people be annoyed by me? Can I ask for the time I need at work? Will I have enough money to live on?
I eat not only to distract myself and feel numb or slightly comforted. I eat because I’m afraid.
Food is safe. Food has been with me in good times and in bad. Now, as I chart new territory, can I leave it behind? I think that, in a way, the food obsession itself is afraid of me letting go of it.
I will let go; I will move into my new quarters. Until then, though, I seem to be inching my way along, with the food as a crutch to get me through this initial fear and pain.
Examining old scars, working to make new connections, and walking through doors is scary but necessary. I do not want to stunt my growth any further with an eating disorder. It’s time to say goodbye.
My first instinct in the midst of turmoil is to redirect, to change course, to figure out what I’m doing wrong and fix it. I used to think (and still often do), “What is wrong with me that is causing me to binge?” This time, I’m not changing course. This time, I believe that the bingeing is not an indication that I am on the wrong track. It’s a sign that I am on the right one… and that I am afraid.