One of those moments when all you can do is stand and allow the love you feel to consume you...
She listens. I'll give her that. I get real fucking emotional about 4 days before my period and about 2 days before a full moon hits and 2 days after. Nothing makes me happy and I become this sensitive & needy mess. I pick apart every kiss and look for "unconscious signs." that we need to re-connect. I get ridiculous. I say that and laugh a little, If you really know me, I'm sure you can hear my humor in telling you those things. There is humor, but there is also truth. I'm conscious of it. When those kind of thoughts enter my mind, I acknowledge them, breath, and shift my focus to something more positive. By the end of the day though, I'm sometimes done trying to be positive. I was like that today, and yesterday in fact. But the reason why I'm sitting here right now is because she listens. She loves me. She understands I get like this, and she doesn't take it personally. She's patient with me. She asks questions. I came downstairs a few minutes ago because after having been upstairs for a few hours collapsing myself in a Netflix coma because all I've wanted to do for days is withdraw from the world; I came downstairs to find her curled upon the couch, wrapped in my favorite blanket, barely lit by the Christmas tree and muted basketball highlights. I stopped, I wanted so badly to touch her arm and kiss her back, but she looked too peaceful; so I stood there and just watched her. I imagine this is what it really is all about, when you find this person you will spend most of your life with. It's sincere. It's fun. It's giving and understanding. It's often quiet. Fran used to tell me all the time that my problem was that I was always looking for that rush, but when real love came, it would come a little gentler. It would come steady, like an undercurrent, and there would be a sense of safety and peace. I used to tell her how boring that sounded, and she used to tell me that was my problem. But I get it now. I'm grateful for this woman, that is now asleep upstairs in our bed. The women came to me earlier because she knew I was exceptionally needy today and getting ready to start a fight (even thought I was desperately trying not to!) to hold my hand, lay on my chest and listen to whatever I needed to say, and by the time I was done, I couldn't help but to smile. The one person in the world that doesn't spark fear as seeks to understand my heart a little more. I appreciate the way she listens, the way she tries, the way she gives and the way we fight. I love to know her, a little more each day. It's not boring at all. It's quite comforting actually, and exciting. Things are different, obviously. We talk about the future, our future. We fit together, her and I. Like I never expected to fit with anyone.
With Grace & Gratitude...
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Projection
Blame.
I went to bed last night yearning to right, but unable to go grasp what exactly I was suppose to be writing about; what it was I was suppose to be contemplating. Often there is so much that divinely lead up to the moment I finally sit down in front of this computer, I find it difficult to try and explain how I got here, without ending it all ending up like a rambling over-drawn story. I've always been a believer in signs. Signs from God. Signs that try to point you in a certain direction, or see something you've yet to become conscious of. Lately, it's been self-control & blame for me. And maybe my whole "introduction" tell you how I got here paragraph is just a bunch of unconscious distraction BS.
I blame other people for various things in my life, then credit myself for making positive changes. I blamed my father for years for the struggles I faced with anger and self-medicating. I blamed my mother for my inability to manage money, or up until this point, hold a steady & committed relationship. Most recently, I've blamed Angela for my 20lb weight gain. It's because I moved here, and she is always bringing "junk" into the house. (Honey, I do apologize if this is the first time you are reading this! I do love you, and I understand it's not really your fault) These are only the ones I could think of off the top of my head. The question then becomes, where is me taking my responsibility in this? And where is God in my success? My healing? My recovery? They say anger is one of those blanket emotions that are covering a deeper hurt, a deeper feeling. We just say anger because it's superficial, pinpointing real feelings makes us vulnerable and raw. And who wants to be vulnerable and raw anyway? :) Angela and I hit a very rough patch, over the last few weeks we have really began to reconnect in a way that definitely brings us closer then we were before. But I asked myself what changed? I remember something shifting inside of me... and I think it was that I finally stopped blaming her for the things in my life I was less than happy with. My weight, the responsibility of a dog that has taken me some time to become okay with, and not visiting friends in Detroit like I would have liked. I've never looked at blame. I've looked at a lot of emotions in my journey to know myself more each and every day, but never blame. When I finally decided to not be angry with her and be true to myself, I was able to open up to her again. So the questions then becomes... who else have I blamed? And how can I use this deeper understanding to become more conscious and more enlightened?
With Grace & Gratitiude
I went to bed last night yearning to right, but unable to go grasp what exactly I was suppose to be writing about; what it was I was suppose to be contemplating. Often there is so much that divinely lead up to the moment I finally sit down in front of this computer, I find it difficult to try and explain how I got here, without ending it all ending up like a rambling over-drawn story. I've always been a believer in signs. Signs from God. Signs that try to point you in a certain direction, or see something you've yet to become conscious of. Lately, it's been self-control & blame for me. And maybe my whole "introduction" tell you how I got here paragraph is just a bunch of unconscious distraction BS.
I blame other people for various things in my life, then credit myself for making positive changes. I blamed my father for years for the struggles I faced with anger and self-medicating. I blamed my mother for my inability to manage money, or up until this point, hold a steady & committed relationship. Most recently, I've blamed Angela for my 20lb weight gain. It's because I moved here, and she is always bringing "junk" into the house. (Honey, I do apologize if this is the first time you are reading this! I do love you, and I understand it's not really your fault) These are only the ones I could think of off the top of my head. The question then becomes, where is me taking my responsibility in this? And where is God in my success? My healing? My recovery? They say anger is one of those blanket emotions that are covering a deeper hurt, a deeper feeling. We just say anger because it's superficial, pinpointing real feelings makes us vulnerable and raw. And who wants to be vulnerable and raw anyway? :) Angela and I hit a very rough patch, over the last few weeks we have really began to reconnect in a way that definitely brings us closer then we were before. But I asked myself what changed? I remember something shifting inside of me... and I think it was that I finally stopped blaming her for the things in my life I was less than happy with. My weight, the responsibility of a dog that has taken me some time to become okay with, and not visiting friends in Detroit like I would have liked. I've never looked at blame. I've looked at a lot of emotions in my journey to know myself more each and every day, but never blame. When I finally decided to not be angry with her and be true to myself, I was able to open up to her again. So the questions then becomes... who else have I blamed? And how can I use this deeper understanding to become more conscious and more enlightened?
With Grace & Gratitiude
Sunday, December 8, 2013
To Unconditional Love Oneself
Unconditionally being the key word, and this seeming to be the goal. Years ago after getting sober I had to learn to love myself. I had absolutely no conception of what that meant. I had spent the best part of the 10 years prior, hurting myself. Taking my anger out on me, blaming myself, and metaphorically & literally ripping myself apart. I was my own worst enemy, and anyone who knew me could tell you that. The thoughts in my head were killing me, and I was killing myself. It's been over 5 years since I got sober. I sit here today the healthiest I've ever been, on all levels. I have spent more time in a gym the last 4 years than most people will probably every spend in their lives, and I'm not so sure that's even an exaggeration. I've spent the last 9 months pushing my body physically like I never have before. Extensive weight training, 3x a week and cardio at different times. Working chest/biceps, legs, & back and triceps like clock work each week. Maxing, sometimes failing, & always pushing. If I ever wanted to take some sort of weight lifting championship title, or break any records, now would be the opportune time to do so. I train with a world power-lifting champion who holds a world record which is absolutely no exaggeration. But yet, I find myself here. A similar place I have been a few times. That still & quiet space of knowing that what you are doing, isn't necessary anymore. Not that it's not working, it just isn't needed. God has a different plan. There is always that smidge of sadness, The kind of sadness that comes with goodbye's, the good goodbye's. The goodbye's that are sending you off into a new phase of your life, a new door you've yet to walk through. I have fought this feeling for months, I've fought my partner for months. But something inside of me has shifted, and I've spent the last few weeks watching my body finally give way to what my soul has been trying to tell me. I've went down in almost every weight for the last few weeks, and haven't made any PR's since October. It's not been for lack of effort either. I've eaten my protein, got plenty of sleep, drank my pre-workouts, pushed my body to failure, and yet still found myself in this place of quiet knowing. There is always a choice, and sure I could choose to continue to push my body how I've been pushing it and allow my ego to wear it's little self out. Because that's what happens. If God speaks and I don't listen, He will allow me to wear my happy little self out until the choice is beyond my control, or everything in my life shifts to accompany me down a path which will most likely bring me right back to where I started. To unconditionally love myself is to listen to myself. To love myself even when I'm not doing the things my ego thinks I should be. To trust. To have a little faith. I have fought with my partner more about my power-lifting activities than I have any other subject. Defiantly exclaiming I loved it, and who was she for trying to take that away from me? I've "loved" a lot of things that weren't true expressions of loving myself. I loved booze and smoking and food... and a few other things that were preventing me from truly loving myself, unconditionally. I asked myself if working out the way I have been was showing myself love. Was it really good for me? I couldn't honestly answer yes. Yoga, absolutely, I do yoga because it's good for me, because I love myself. Cardio? Yes, I do that too because it's good for me and helps me be a better version of myself. Power-lifting? Not so much. I do that because I love it, because it does something for my ego. Not only that... I eat often eat foods that I don't really want, that my body doesn't really want so I can support my workout routine. Foods that are very heavy, and don't support my highest good, like lots of meat... I don't really like a lot of meat, so why am I eating it? To support my working out? That's doing what for me? Protecting my sensitive, soft side? Pulling me so much into the physical because I'm always in pain that I cannot connect to Spirit as easily? An honest self-appraisal says it's just another addiction, although healthier than previous ones, that has served its purpose. The time to move on has come... to love myself a little more deeply, more unconditionally. To be a little gentler with my delicate self. And as sad as that makes me to say aloud, I know deep down it's true.
Grace & Gratitude...
Grace & Gratitude...
Friday, December 6, 2013
Life & Death
"God is doing some serious recruitment this week....." - A friend's status update.
He sure is. I spent most of the last few days contemplating life and death. Actually it's probably been more about 2 weeks. I'm a hospice nurse. You can't do this day in and day out without really beginning to ask the deeper questions. What do I really believe about the afterlife? What haven't I seen? What am I afraid to see? And what do I know for sure? If anything. I watched a dear friend's body get laid to rest today, she was the oldest best friend I ever knew. She was 90 and taught me a tremendous amount about love & life. She was one of the few people in the world whom I felt truly knew me, could see past any façade I may have been holding up and loved me unconditionally. I adored her. I sobbed at her funeral and had to remind myself to just breathe.
I knew for over a week her time was coming very soon, I could feel it. The universe sent me numerous times. I had been wanting to go to see her where she lived two hours away for a year and a half and always had excuses. But today, all of a sudden, I found the time. I found the time to come to her funeral. What did that do for her? Who are funerals for anyway? They are for us. I felt guilt for not coming to see her. I needed closure, I wanted to say goodbye... and all of a sudden, I had the time, the gas money, and the willingness.... Selfishness. I'll take this as a lesson learned. Forgive myself and make some changes.
Then I visited Shauna. As reflective as I have been about life & death, I had to go see her. I stood in the cemetery and suddenly felt at a loss for words. Then I heard her say that I get so caught up in the feelings, the emotions, the pain. I focus so much on the sadness & the loss that I miss certain things. That I block myself from seeing things that I really want to see. Like the other side. I've been communicating with the other side for several years now, but there are certain aspects, I know I'm missing. Certain things I want to see and know, that I don't allow myself too. I've often wondered if it's fear, but it doesn't feel like fear. I asked Shauna about it today and she told me that I had it backwards. I've always needed to see to believe, when really I need to believe to see, and I had doubt. She said belief was very simple, it was a choice. I asked her, then what do I tell people when they ask why I believe what I believe? And she said to tell them because I choose too, because choosing too believe makes me a happy, it brings me peace, and helps me be a better person.
That concept has been a pillar in my belief system for yearssss. How do we know what is true, and what isn't? If everybody is right, how can there be such difference? Who cares if what we believe really is true? It's true for us isn't it? Does it make us better people? Does it bring positive service to the world in some way? What we believe is true... is. What we believe will work for us... will. I believe these things, because they resonate in my heart. But when it comes to life after this, I've read books. I've heard other people's beliefs, but somewhere inside of me, there is doubt. More like indecision, because I don't know what to believe. What does happen after we die? I don't know. I've seen bits and pieces. There are a few things I understand. I stood in the cemetery today and asked Shauna, "how do I know I'm really talking to you anyway? How do I know this isn't my imagination?" Her response... "There is your doubt, your indecision. Your choice." What if I wasn't really talking to her? What if it was just my imagination? Would it matter? If it was enough to get me here... contemplating life, death, and understanding God a little more deeply, then what fault has been made? I choose to believe it she was there today. Why? Because I want to see. Because believing it was her, opens my heart a little more. And the world can always use a few more open hearts.
Maybe it's not about what we believe happens or doesn't happen, or how we get there. Maybe none of that matters at all. Just our belief that it is okay to go, and that in some shape or form, love is waiting.
With Grace &Gratitude...
He sure is. I spent most of the last few days contemplating life and death. Actually it's probably been more about 2 weeks. I'm a hospice nurse. You can't do this day in and day out without really beginning to ask the deeper questions. What do I really believe about the afterlife? What haven't I seen? What am I afraid to see? And what do I know for sure? If anything. I watched a dear friend's body get laid to rest today, she was the oldest best friend I ever knew. She was 90 and taught me a tremendous amount about love & life. She was one of the few people in the world whom I felt truly knew me, could see past any façade I may have been holding up and loved me unconditionally. I adored her. I sobbed at her funeral and had to remind myself to just breathe.
I knew for over a week her time was coming very soon, I could feel it. The universe sent me numerous times. I had been wanting to go to see her where she lived two hours away for a year and a half and always had excuses. But today, all of a sudden, I found the time. I found the time to come to her funeral. What did that do for her? Who are funerals for anyway? They are for us. I felt guilt for not coming to see her. I needed closure, I wanted to say goodbye... and all of a sudden, I had the time, the gas money, and the willingness.... Selfishness. I'll take this as a lesson learned. Forgive myself and make some changes.
Then I visited Shauna. As reflective as I have been about life & death, I had to go see her. I stood in the cemetery and suddenly felt at a loss for words. Then I heard her say that I get so caught up in the feelings, the emotions, the pain. I focus so much on the sadness & the loss that I miss certain things. That I block myself from seeing things that I really want to see. Like the other side. I've been communicating with the other side for several years now, but there are certain aspects, I know I'm missing. Certain things I want to see and know, that I don't allow myself too. I've often wondered if it's fear, but it doesn't feel like fear. I asked Shauna about it today and she told me that I had it backwards. I've always needed to see to believe, when really I need to believe to see, and I had doubt. She said belief was very simple, it was a choice. I asked her, then what do I tell people when they ask why I believe what I believe? And she said to tell them because I choose too, because choosing too believe makes me a happy, it brings me peace, and helps me be a better person.
That concept has been a pillar in my belief system for yearssss. How do we know what is true, and what isn't? If everybody is right, how can there be such difference? Who cares if what we believe really is true? It's true for us isn't it? Does it make us better people? Does it bring positive service to the world in some way? What we believe is true... is. What we believe will work for us... will. I believe these things, because they resonate in my heart. But when it comes to life after this, I've read books. I've heard other people's beliefs, but somewhere inside of me, there is doubt. More like indecision, because I don't know what to believe. What does happen after we die? I don't know. I've seen bits and pieces. There are a few things I understand. I stood in the cemetery today and asked Shauna, "how do I know I'm really talking to you anyway? How do I know this isn't my imagination?" Her response... "There is your doubt, your indecision. Your choice." What if I wasn't really talking to her? What if it was just my imagination? Would it matter? If it was enough to get me here... contemplating life, death, and understanding God a little more deeply, then what fault has been made? I choose to believe it she was there today. Why? Because I want to see. Because believing it was her, opens my heart a little more. And the world can always use a few more open hearts.
Maybe it's not about what we believe happens or doesn't happen, or how we get there. Maybe none of that matters at all. Just our belief that it is okay to go, and that in some shape or form, love is waiting.
With Grace &Gratitude...
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Find What You Love & Let It Kill You
"Patience is not about how long one can wait, but how well one behaves while waiting."
There's something sweet about tonight. Quiet. I read lots of things about patience today. Or should I say, lots of things about patience seemed to find their way to me? Not sure why, I don't feel particularly impatient. Maybe it was in preparation. Regina Spektor in the background brings a slight smile to my face.
A few months back I wrote a blog about the thoughts of an aspiring power-lifter. I'll be the first to say it wasn't one of my best, or even close for that matter. Probably because, I found it easier to come out as a gay women then I did to confess my passion for weight lifting outside of my close night circle of gym buddies. Even now, I hold myself back a bit. Why? Because so many people don't understand why I do what I do. Why so many of us do what we do. I've been asked why I'm punishing myself. Been told my back and joints are going to give me big issues for the rest of my life, and that there was no way I lifted the weight I did. I've been told my calves are too big, that I'm going to hurt myself. I've been told I spend too much time in the gym and asked what pain I'm still working through. I think about lifting weights all the time. Just tonight I was laying in bed and thinking of squat day tomorrow. Wondering about what would be the best breakfast for me to eat to support leg day but not slow me down or even worse make me want to throw up with 300+ lbs on my back. I replayed the days events in the gym, about how I say others work out, conversations I had and advice that had been given to me without my asking for it. Was it useful information for me? My trainer is out of town, was I going to ask the guy sitting behind the desk who I find a little over the top to spot me? Or was I going to not max and just do 4 sets of 6 @ an 80% effort. Would that be too much? How much weight would that be anyways?
I LOVE THIS SHIT. Maybe my quote at the top should have been, "Find what you love & let it kill you." My confessions are these.... I love the way my arms look, my legs look, my neckline looks. I love breaking PR's, I love failing... it gives me something to think about; it makes me want to push harder. I'm always flexing in front of the mirror, and the gym is like my second home. I find it relaxing and grounding, and I go even on days when I don't want too. I'm sore everyday. If I'm not, I didn't work hard enough the day before. I love the way iron plates sound clanging together and coming off & on the bar. I admire people who push themselves mentally & physically to their own limits, willingly. I like tough people. People who don't take shit, and will tell you how it is. People who will look you in the eye and make reality hard to ignore because they know it will make you a better person, even if you don't like it. I've had amazing teachers, each very different, each exactly what I needed. I'm a lifer. This is my recovery. I've been doing this consistently for over 4 years with an 8 month exception after moving to Saint johns, because Snap & B-Strong just weren't working for me. I wear my gym t-shirts proudly. They get hung up, not folded. This is a tangible and visual result of change, starting from the inside. No, I've not reached my goal weight, and yes I eat too many calories sometimes, and some days McDonald's doesn't sound too fucking bad. But I keep moving forward. I take full responsibility for my decisions and don't let them stop me from taking my ass to the gym the next day. I have cheat days. When I'm home alone I watch youtube weight lifting videos and look up raw power-lifting records. I love following pages like "Gym Freaks" on Facebook. I enjoy being surrounded by people who love this sport as much as I do. My trainer told me last week she had embroidery done on her dress she was taking to Prague with her for the WPC world's championship... on the front it was barbell's wrapped like a DNA strand and on the back it said, "...it's in my blood." Then a woman that goes to the gym I used to go to before I moved said, "How about: Don't sit on your fat ass eating McDonald's and tubs of ice cream and then get mad when someone else has the body you wish you had. Eat less, move more. Go to the gym. Eat a f&@king salad. Pass on second breakfast. If you eat a whole bag of peanut butter cups worth 620 calories, get your ass on a airdyne and feel what it takes to burn 620 calories. Drink more water. Time to take that harsh pill called reality. Your excuses are invalid." How about fuck yeah? People like this continue to inspire me. People like this remind me there is nothing wrong with being in the gym 5 days a week, waking up sore every morning, and moving around more weight that most men. But these are the things, I'm hesitant to admit. As if there is something wrong with me because I love it this much. Because it brings out the best in me. Sure, it will wear on my body, but so will sitting on the fucking couch and eating whatever the fuck I want.... I'd rather go out in the gym with a bar in my hand.
With Grace & Gratitude...
There's something sweet about tonight. Quiet. I read lots of things about patience today. Or should I say, lots of things about patience seemed to find their way to me? Not sure why, I don't feel particularly impatient. Maybe it was in preparation. Regina Spektor in the background brings a slight smile to my face.
A few months back I wrote a blog about the thoughts of an aspiring power-lifter. I'll be the first to say it wasn't one of my best, or even close for that matter. Probably because, I found it easier to come out as a gay women then I did to confess my passion for weight lifting outside of my close night circle of gym buddies. Even now, I hold myself back a bit. Why? Because so many people don't understand why I do what I do. Why so many of us do what we do. I've been asked why I'm punishing myself. Been told my back and joints are going to give me big issues for the rest of my life, and that there was no way I lifted the weight I did. I've been told my calves are too big, that I'm going to hurt myself. I've been told I spend too much time in the gym and asked what pain I'm still working through. I think about lifting weights all the time. Just tonight I was laying in bed and thinking of squat day tomorrow. Wondering about what would be the best breakfast for me to eat to support leg day but not slow me down or even worse make me want to throw up with 300+ lbs on my back. I replayed the days events in the gym, about how I say others work out, conversations I had and advice that had been given to me without my asking for it. Was it useful information for me? My trainer is out of town, was I going to ask the guy sitting behind the desk who I find a little over the top to spot me? Or was I going to not max and just do 4 sets of 6 @ an 80% effort. Would that be too much? How much weight would that be anyways?
I LOVE THIS SHIT. Maybe my quote at the top should have been, "Find what you love & let it kill you." My confessions are these.... I love the way my arms look, my legs look, my neckline looks. I love breaking PR's, I love failing... it gives me something to think about; it makes me want to push harder. I'm always flexing in front of the mirror, and the gym is like my second home. I find it relaxing and grounding, and I go even on days when I don't want too. I'm sore everyday. If I'm not, I didn't work hard enough the day before. I love the way iron plates sound clanging together and coming off & on the bar. I admire people who push themselves mentally & physically to their own limits, willingly. I like tough people. People who don't take shit, and will tell you how it is. People who will look you in the eye and make reality hard to ignore because they know it will make you a better person, even if you don't like it. I've had amazing teachers, each very different, each exactly what I needed. I'm a lifer. This is my recovery. I've been doing this consistently for over 4 years with an 8 month exception after moving to Saint johns, because Snap & B-Strong just weren't working for me. I wear my gym t-shirts proudly. They get hung up, not folded. This is a tangible and visual result of change, starting from the inside. No, I've not reached my goal weight, and yes I eat too many calories sometimes, and some days McDonald's doesn't sound too fucking bad. But I keep moving forward. I take full responsibility for my decisions and don't let them stop me from taking my ass to the gym the next day. I have cheat days. When I'm home alone I watch youtube weight lifting videos and look up raw power-lifting records. I love following pages like "Gym Freaks" on Facebook. I enjoy being surrounded by people who love this sport as much as I do. My trainer told me last week she had embroidery done on her dress she was taking to Prague with her for the WPC world's championship... on the front it was barbell's wrapped like a DNA strand and on the back it said, "...it's in my blood." Then a woman that goes to the gym I used to go to before I moved said, "How about: Don't sit on your fat ass eating McDonald's and tubs of ice cream and then get mad when someone else has the body you wish you had. Eat less, move more. Go to the gym. Eat a f&@king salad. Pass on second breakfast. If you eat a whole bag of peanut butter cups worth 620 calories, get your ass on a airdyne and feel what it takes to burn 620 calories. Drink more water. Time to take that harsh pill called reality. Your excuses are invalid." How about fuck yeah? People like this continue to inspire me. People like this remind me there is nothing wrong with being in the gym 5 days a week, waking up sore every morning, and moving around more weight that most men. But these are the things, I'm hesitant to admit. As if there is something wrong with me because I love it this much. Because it brings out the best in me. Sure, it will wear on my body, but so will sitting on the fucking couch and eating whatever the fuck I want.... I'd rather go out in the gym with a bar in my hand.
With Grace & Gratitude...
Monday, October 14, 2013
Morning Tea & Scribbles
The last couple blogs I've written, I've not finished, therefore not published. How could I publish something that just stops. Like SKEERT. Done. Like you just walk off the edge of a cliff, it's over. Maybe it's because I'm warming back up again. Feels like winter today. I have my tea. I've pulled some cards. Nothing to exciting or focused. Just feeling. I wrote yesterday about being on a low-carb, low-sugar diet. Today I thought about writing something about what my cards said, eh that didn't feel right either. What are the things in my life I tend to write about? What things in my life could I also write about? I tend to write about spirituality and spiritual experiences. I'm very intuitive, an energy worker, and I somehow often find myself guiding others along their own path. Always seems to be something to inspire a blog. I often write about weight-loss, working out, just being healthier in general. I found that to be extremely beneficial. Sobriety. Although by AA standards, I would not be considered "sober" for over 5 years, my getting sober in March of 2008 was one of the biggest milestones in my life. I've written a lot about love when I was searching for it and I found the journey of it exhausting and frustrating, but now not so much. I should though, I'm very grateful for the love I share with my other half. We've spent the last year and a half growing together and building a life that both of us love. I appreciate her, and I'm constantly amazed at how things unravel for us. For many years writing was a way to vent. To let out the thoughts and feelings that were seemed unstoppable inside of me. A release. Some people found them humorous & helpful so I began my blog. For another several years I wrote sharing my experiences in a very raw fashion with the thought that we as people helped each other to heal by being open about our struggles and shortcomings. Being open and raw with someone or many people, often opened the door for them to do the same allowing healing for all. I wrote my blogs, like I talked at the tables of AA. At this point, my life is not chaotic, I process things much more quickly. I also feel a bit more private and I'm not exactly sure how I feel about that, maybe I'm just growing up? My life now is fun and still quite interesting, but I'm used to connecting with people through shared pain. And my life doesn't reside there anymore. It's been a new adventure for me to connect with others over other similarities. I guess my writing has reflected that. Seems a bit less passionate, well let me use the word intense. I flounder as I feel the yearning to write, but struggle to know about what. Seems I'm tired about writing about myself, I definitely feel the shift happening, just trying to feel out which way it's going. Because I haven't written about much this morning, but let me tell you... it felt amazing to be here.
With Grace & Gratitude...
With Grace & Gratitude...
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Deserve What?
"I deserve it."
I've been on a low-carb, low-sugar diet for a few weeks now; aiming for under 100g/day, usually falling between 100-150g/day. I'm okay with that. From what I gathered from my Google research, under 100g is what people who are trying to loose weight consume. Well, that's exactly what I'm doing, so I'll take it. ESPECIALLY since, I looked back on my myfitnesspal for the last three months and saw that I had been consuming between 2500-400g/day. 150 seemed like a very reasonable place to start. I stay away from all white breads, pastas, etc. No potatoes, no starchy veggies, and limit my intake of fruit. (Although when I'm really craving something sweet, fruit is a hell of a lot better than chocolate covered raisins or twix bars. I'll take the fruit, thank you). Carbohydrates are an absolute necessity in the diet and cannot be realistically completely avoided. Well... unless you want to send your body into a hypoglycemic like state and damage your kidneys among many other things I'm sure. I've increased my protein and veggies. It's working for me. I feel a huge difference. I'm not nearly as bloated, and I'm loosing weight while maintaining my strength. I've also been sticking to 3 cardio days a week now, along with my 3 days of lifting. So, I'm sure that is helping with my weight loss. They say "you can't work your way out of a bad diet" & "Getting fit happens in the gym, getting thin happens in the kitchen." There's truth to that.
Three days ago I decided I deserved some Pizza Hut. I trimmed a little metaphysical fat off my total indulgence and ordered, thin crust pizza and some boneless chicken wings to add protein so I wouldn't be hungry later. All together (yes, I looked it up before) I consumed just about 100g of carbs in one meal. For the entire day it wasn't much more than that, because I considered that my cheat meal, and did my best to consume virtually NO other carbs that day. Fine. I enjoyed every bite and left without a singe ounce of guilt. You are suppose to have a cheat day, and besides, I did at-least skip on desert! Bad thing is the next day... I had nachos and cake. Then the day after that (last night) I had actual bread. Besides, I had been doing REALLY well, and it was date night and I was fine dining, and the oil is good for me... lol
But what I really deserved, was the goal I have been working towards. That feeling of freedom & pride, increased energy, & healthier body and mind. I had to remind myself of that, to feel that energy and put my focus there. Because what we focus on, is exactly what we get. Don't believe it? Watch your thoughts. What are you focusing on? Really. There is a difference between what you want and what your focus is. I may want to clean house all day, but if I keep thinking, "I'm never gonna get to this house today." I won't. Shit will still be exactly where it was when I woke up ;)
I've been on a low-carb, low-sugar diet for a few weeks now; aiming for under 100g/day, usually falling between 100-150g/day. I'm okay with that. From what I gathered from my Google research, under 100g is what people who are trying to loose weight consume. Well, that's exactly what I'm doing, so I'll take it. ESPECIALLY since, I looked back on my myfitnesspal for the last three months and saw that I had been consuming between 2500-400g/day. 150 seemed like a very reasonable place to start. I stay away from all white breads, pastas, etc. No potatoes, no starchy veggies, and limit my intake of fruit. (Although when I'm really craving something sweet, fruit is a hell of a lot better than chocolate covered raisins or twix bars. I'll take the fruit, thank you). Carbohydrates are an absolute necessity in the diet and cannot be realistically completely avoided. Well... unless you want to send your body into a hypoglycemic like state and damage your kidneys among many other things I'm sure. I've increased my protein and veggies. It's working for me. I feel a huge difference. I'm not nearly as bloated, and I'm loosing weight while maintaining my strength. I've also been sticking to 3 cardio days a week now, along with my 3 days of lifting. So, I'm sure that is helping with my weight loss. They say "you can't work your way out of a bad diet" & "Getting fit happens in the gym, getting thin happens in the kitchen." There's truth to that.
Three days ago I decided I deserved some Pizza Hut. I trimmed a little metaphysical fat off my total indulgence and ordered, thin crust pizza and some boneless chicken wings to add protein so I wouldn't be hungry later. All together (yes, I looked it up before) I consumed just about 100g of carbs in one meal. For the entire day it wasn't much more than that, because I considered that my cheat meal, and did my best to consume virtually NO other carbs that day. Fine. I enjoyed every bite and left without a singe ounce of guilt. You are suppose to have a cheat day, and besides, I did at-least skip on desert! Bad thing is the next day... I had nachos and cake. Then the day after that (last night) I had actual bread. Besides, I had been doing REALLY well, and it was date night and I was fine dining, and the oil is good for me... lol
But what I really deserved, was the goal I have been working towards. That feeling of freedom & pride, increased energy, & healthier body and mind. I had to remind myself of that, to feel that energy and put my focus there. Because what we focus on, is exactly what we get. Don't believe it? Watch your thoughts. What are you focusing on? Really. There is a difference between what you want and what your focus is. I may want to clean house all day, but if I keep thinking, "I'm never gonna get to this house today." I won't. Shit will still be exactly where it was when I woke up ;)
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