Exposing Personal Myths

What ecstatic fun you can have examining the myriad myths of a misspent youth!

While I was in the shower this morning (because you needing the setting), I had an epiphany (because epiphanies and hot water seem to go hand in hand). Here's what I remembered: I used to think that "thin" had a weight limit and that was 110 pounds (roughly 50 kg)...

HUH?!? No wonder I had weight/body image issues! I have no idea where that number actually came from, but there it was as if from one of Moses' stone tablets.

Okay, well, that might be exactly what thin looks like for some folks (and my sincere blessings to you if you are in that category), but at 5'10" tall, that wouldn't have been "thin" for me. That would have been skeletal.

Luckily for me, I spent most of my excessively athletic high school years between 135-145. No, I didn't realize then how thin I actually was, but I have a great appreciation for that fact now. During college, I padded out a little, but still stayed between 145-160. Well within healthy norms for my height and build. I happen to have dense muscle mass (or so my chiropractor insists), so the scale weight for me of say, 140, equates to a size 5/6.

Right now, late-30's and post-babies, I'm aiming for a comfortable size 7/8, whatever that happens to look like on the scale. That's a drop of only about 3 sizes, nothing requiring surgery or hyper-restrictive dieting, but still a challenge on every face of it. I've been doing a yoga-pilates class several nights a week for about 2 months and I can tell a difference, but it doesn't seem to be quite "enough". Yes, there's that word, but I'm not applying it to myself in this case but rather my choice of physical activity.

So I joined a walking team at work. It's the first time they've done this so I don't know many of the details but I got my pedometer this morning and it's almost insanely fun to see how my regular walking adds up. Our manufacturing facility is quite large and though I don't often venture into the vast recesses, I do at least make the trek to/from my vehicle in addition to walking up and down a large flight of stairs several times each day. The pedometer measures to the thousandths of a mile so every step (or five) adds to the total.

As I've delved deeper into exposing myths (like "my ideal weight *should* be 110 lbs."), I've built healthier, more realistic concepts to take their place. Yoga, walking - maybe even running if I can beat the insane summer heat - these help me construct that framework that will sustain me through the rest of my years (which I plan to be numerous).

What personal myths have you excavated from your childhood/youth?

Shine On

This might not be obvious from previous posts - in fact, this might run entirely contrary to previous posts, come to think of it - but I am a relatively happy person. With few breaks in continuity, I have primarily looked upon the world in general with a glass-three-quarters-full, anything-is-possible sort of attitude. It's no coincidence that the first tattoo I chose was a sunshine with a Northward-pointing compass directional above it. Sunny, happy-go-lucky, joyous, brighten-your-spirits - I identify deeply with those descriptors.

In my darkest of days (the ones that seem most often to find their outlet here), one or the other of the wonderful people whom I cherishingly (is that a word?) claim as friends nearly always manages to remind me that I am valuable, to them and to my boys and to others as well. In the throes of pain, it's not always easy to dredge up (or believe) that kind of information by myself. It's much, much easier to believe that my contribution to this world is so little as to be utterly insignificant, which invariably breeds the thought: "Then what's the point?"

There's always a point, to every life that exists then ceases to exist. How we perceive, receive, believe and allow those lives to achieve their ends provides us with the reason. When we stifle life, our own or others, we cause damage that's impossible to measure. Still, those times are ripe for learning, too, in the endless, formless, timeless way that existence simply happens.

As I continue to emerge from my current cycle, rising into the next one with just a little more grace, a little more wisdom, a little more experience, and just possibly a little less baggage, I can feel a radiance beginning to grow within. It's always been there, though it's been frightfully dim for too long. With continued nurturing, that light will once again have the chance to shine through - Future's so bright, we're all gonna need shades!

Just Weight

There's this conversation that plays in my head, not a perfect loop because it changes slightly with each iteration. The tone varies from mildly disappointed (a sort of "tsk-tsk") to aggressively condemning (this end of the spectrum is rather frightening). The content has been more or less unchanged for the past twenty-odd years. Yes, it occurs to me that that represents just over half of my lifetime.

A sample, at any given moment, might sound a bit like this:

You really shouldn't eat that [ hot dog / Dairy Queen Blizzard / cheese pizza ] because you've already had plenty of food today. There's no real reason why you should be hungry at all. If you have to eat something, it should really be a vegetable, but nothing too heavy. No pasta, no bread, no cookies. Really, you're a size what? And why haven't you been to the gym? If you really wanted to, you'd make time to get to the gym, at least several times a week for at least an hour or so each time. And you should always have all the laundry done so you won't ever need to scrounge for gym clothes. You used to be really fit when you were younger, what happened? The [ shirt / bra / jeans ] you're trying to squeeze into are going to show all of your fat rolls then no one will see anything but that, not listen to anything you have to say because they'll be gawking in horror at the rotund and obese monstrosity that stands before them masquerading as human. Perhaps it'd just be better if you hid somewhere, better than exposing yourself to other people. Why did you let it get this bad? What is wrong with you that you didn't fix this before now? You've been thin before, even if you didn't always know it; surely to goodness you can do it again.

So… I'd better stop there because it's only getting uglier by the second; I've already got a lump the size of a baby whale in my throat and tears threatening to spill. Something to know about me: I would never even entertain harsh thoughts like that about any other person. Sure, there might be a couple folks out there whose actions I find utterly reprehensible and disgusting, whose demise I certainly wouldn't mourn, but I wouldn't layer two decades worth of harsh, judgmental criticism and scathing hatred on them? Just, no.

I wouldn't pile the pyre that high then never set it alight, never set it free.

What is it in my psyche that clings to this? Why can I not seem to bring forgiveness to myself for this one aspect of my self? Why does every single food choice, each morsel that I lift to my mouth, have to come under scrutiny? Why have I equated the number on the scale or the size of my clothing to my value as a human, my worthiness of approval and love? How can I release the guilt, accept myself as I am in this moment, know that I will change when I put the effort into changing, and be okay with life as a process, not an end result?

I use this blog to explore those things which most challenge or inspire me and I understand that sometimes makes for morose reading. Strangely enough, many friends have equated me with sunshine, told me I'm someone who brightens their day, which is my way of sharing with readers that I'm not always a wound-up ball of self-despising panic. Just internally. Hahahahaha.

I am getting help to work on changing these mental patterns but the written word has long been so cathartic for me. It's my best refuge from the storms in my brain, the perfect safe harbor. From here I can explore the things I can't always speak out loud lest the tears fall and lay me bare to endure more hurt.

Oh, the psychology of it all… it's just weight, not who I AM.

Easier Said Than

Sometimes I talk a good game. Shoot the breeze, convince the locals. Parlez the lingo, as it were.

Occasionally, I even "walk the talk". Yay, me!

But there's this strict, not-so-little, very unforgiving voice inside my head that always pipes up with the, "BUT..." Always. I try to assuage this voice, reminding it that I need to be gentle with myself, that criticism - the harsh, scathing, cruel kind - has no place hereabouts.

I've made good improvements to my life, I say. But there are many left to make, it counters. I know this and I'd like to be pleased with these five good choices for just this moment, I reply. Well, just for a moment then BUT don't forget about the other hundred or so things you should also be doing, it says, shaking its head a bit ruefully.

Like I told my six-year-old when he complained about kids teasing him, I should just ignore this voice. Or reform it. Maybe I could locate some inner monologue reformers, kind of like those people who "cure" people who've been brainwashed by locking them in a hotel room and screaming at them.

On second thought...

Maybe all that voice needs is love, a little acceptance, a LOT of patience. I learn new things, experience new viewpoints, every day. Some I take in and nurture, ponder and incorporate. Some I discard wholesale. That's how it is for everyone, I suppose, on one level of awareness or another. The key seems to be how consciously you make these choices versus just allowing things to happen to you (or in your vicinity). That's my model and mantra for 2011 - To live purposely and intentionally.

So here's to promoting the energy of moving from the "said" to the "done" and enjoying the [sometimes arduous] journey along the way!

21 Days, Multitudinous Habits

What got me thinking about all the habits I would do well to improve upon? Kitty hork. Hork is our generic household term for anything that spews forth from the front end of our centuries old feline fellow. He donated a rather generous hork to the carpet in our front living room this morning before I could skid stocking-footed into the vicinity to alter his trajectory. Tragic.

Further pontification on the subject reminded me that we've been displaced from our bedroom for a whole week due to an unfortunate combination of Kitty hork and a poor habit of mine. Laundry. The great demon whichs spawns itself anew with each passing day. A dear friend says she rather enjoys doing this hellish task - here's her blog, where you can psychoanalyze that proclivity.

So the question becomes: on which poor habits should I first focus my attention? Laundry inattentiveness, nail-biting, procrastination, less-than-optimal eating/exercise routines, poor skincare regimine? (Yes, friends, there are others, but need I air all of my "dirty laundry" in order to make my point?) One of my son's favorite TV channels is running a campaign called Kick One, Pick One - Get rid of a bad habit and replace it with a good one. I think it's reasonably admirable; kids by in large watch an inordinate amount of television, something we've had limited success curtailing. Might as well be pumping SOME good messages into them!

I'm almost sure my husband would suggest that I tame the hulking laundry beast first. It too often occupies the majority of the floor space in our (quite large) master bathroom. One time when I cleaned it all up, Noah came in and cried, "Oh no!" because he missed his climbing pile! That's kind of sad. And don't suggest that I turn the job over to hubby - I promise, he does quite enough as it is. Plus, I would have to teach him how to do it and that just seems, well, pointless.

I think my steam has run out - apparently I need refueling. Had my tea already, but I've been up for two hours with no actual food. Plus, writing this post has been so interrupted by normal morning functioning that I've gone quite off course. Two loads of laundry are in progress, so I guess this could be considered Day 1 of 21. Let's see where we go from here!