Maybe it's not about withholding myself (or not ONLY about that)...because I'm also finding it a relief not to expect anything of others, either.
Maybe it's about finding my center within myself instead of in someone else (or lots of people, or people in general), or even somewhere in between.
I'm looking forward to giving myself away because I *choose* to...
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Freedom to withhold
Something to think/write about at more length after I've thought about it a little more. As I'm spending time alone lately, and I've told everyone I'm going to be "in my cocoon" for awhile -- I wonder why it feels so right.
Part of it is the ability to focus on what I really want to do. But there's another piece -- the freedom to withhold myself. I need to learn how to say, "You can't have me, on any level, right now. I belong to me, and I'm just not available." I don't know why that feels so important, so central to getting healed up -- but it really does.
Hm.
Part of it is the ability to focus on what I really want to do. But there's another piece -- the freedom to withhold myself. I need to learn how to say, "You can't have me, on any level, right now. I belong to me, and I'm just not available." I don't know why that feels so important, so central to getting healed up -- but it really does.
Hm.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Two lessons
1) Some foods, for me, are drugs -- not food at all. These things include Kentucky Fried Chicken, macaroni and cheese, and a lot of other "comfort" foods, especially those involving white sugar, white flour, dairy (cheese!) and greasy texture.. When I eat these foods, my body does not expect to be energized and satisfied with nutrition. My body expects, when I eat these foods, to be sedated, to be soothed into a "food coma." If I eat just a *little* of these foods, a strong craving kicks in until I *get* to the "food coma" stage. In other words, these foods do not feed and satisfy me -- they cause me to crave and feel DISsatisfied.
2) There has been some kind of payoff to keeping myself fat, and it's pretty complex. Today it seems to be trying to come into focus, so I've been thinking about it. My thoughts:
I have often felt that I could not put in the time and effort to take care of myself, that everyone and everything else comes first, and I put myself last. But -- why would I do that? There's certainly some kind of martyr thinking going on, here -- the very idea makes me sick, but I think it's true.
There's also some definite laziness going on. Often the "other stuff" that I do at the expense of taking care of myself is cerebral, computerized, something I can do from a seated position -- and taking care of myself involves getting up and moving around. It's not clear to me whether I became lazy before or after I got fat. Moving really is hard and painful now, but I'm sure it hasn't always been. It almost doesn't matter -- I'm lazy now, and the only way for things to get easier is to get up and do something.
Here's what's forcing me to make a change (and scaring the crap out of me): all the people who I've thought I had to "do for" are now really invested in me losing weight. Ask any of them, and they would say, "Go and get your exercise! Make good food for yourself! This stuff can wait!" This includes my bosses, my friends, the people I'm in ministry with, everyone at my church, my family...everyone! So -- NOW what's my excuse?
There isn't one. I have two choices: a) get my act together, or b) face the fact that the choice *not* to get it together is entirely *mine*. No more martyrdom. Just the lazyness and the fear. I own it -- I cannot put it off on anyone else.
On the other hand, this represents tremendous freedom! Hallelujah, no more martyrdom! I put it out there to everyone I know, and they not only made it clear that they want me to succeed -- they actually put money on the line!
No more confusion -- the path ahead is clear, and if I don't take that path, I own the fact that I chose to sit here on my ass.
2) There has been some kind of payoff to keeping myself fat, and it's pretty complex. Today it seems to be trying to come into focus, so I've been thinking about it. My thoughts:
I have often felt that I could not put in the time and effort to take care of myself, that everyone and everything else comes first, and I put myself last. But -- why would I do that? There's certainly some kind of martyr thinking going on, here -- the very idea makes me sick, but I think it's true.
There's also some definite laziness going on. Often the "other stuff" that I do at the expense of taking care of myself is cerebral, computerized, something I can do from a seated position -- and taking care of myself involves getting up and moving around. It's not clear to me whether I became lazy before or after I got fat. Moving really is hard and painful now, but I'm sure it hasn't always been. It almost doesn't matter -- I'm lazy now, and the only way for things to get easier is to get up and do something.
Here's what's forcing me to make a change (and scaring the crap out of me): all the people who I've thought I had to "do for" are now really invested in me losing weight. Ask any of them, and they would say, "Go and get your exercise! Make good food for yourself! This stuff can wait!" This includes my bosses, my friends, the people I'm in ministry with, everyone at my church, my family...everyone! So -- NOW what's my excuse?
There isn't one. I have two choices: a) get my act together, or b) face the fact that the choice *not* to get it together is entirely *mine*. No more martyrdom. Just the lazyness and the fear. I own it -- I cannot put it off on anyone else.
On the other hand, this represents tremendous freedom! Hallelujah, no more martyrdom! I put it out there to everyone I know, and they not only made it clear that they want me to succeed -- they actually put money on the line!
No more confusion -- the path ahead is clear, and if I don't take that path, I own the fact that I chose to sit here on my ass.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Learning new tricks
Fell off the wagon today. Big ol' Domino's sandwich and wings for dinner. I was SO hungry -- and that seemed to help it digest quickly, which is good, but it made me realize that these things don't "just happen." I have a lot of new habits to build.
For one thing, evenings need to be relaxed and easy -- not work time, just take-care-of-me time. And the other thing -- I MUST be prepared. I cannot yet "wing" this stuff.
So -- after resting and digesting for an hour or so -- I pulled out the sewing machine and did some mending...on the desk I stayed up late to clean, last night, yeay! Put away the sewing machine as soon as I was done, pulled out the computer and planned my food, starting with lunch out with my friend Suman, tomorrow.
I could already feel the doubt and tension around breakfast and dinner -- would I *really* take time to chop up the apples for the oatmeal at breakfast and cut up the fruit for the smoothie at dinner? I could feel the failure around the edges of the day, trying to get in. I have to get breakfast and dinner right tomorrow, because even the salad I have planned for lunch is 853 calories!
New trick: cut up the apples, put them in the oatmeal pan and added water. Tomorrow morning I'll just have to take the pan out of the fridge, put it on the stove and add oatmeal. Got out the pear, mango and orange for the smoothie, cut them up and put them in a container in the fridge. Whirrr those babies with some water, snag the pecans out of the cupboard, and I'll have a good working dinner tomorrow night.
Tomorrow's new trick? Getting in the exercise! After lunch, Suman's going to drop me at the pool.
And I do have to get in a full six hours of work tomorrow, so I'll have to come home after swimming. I have plans to walk over to Taize worship at St. Paul's tomorrow -- we'll see if that's possible.
For one thing, evenings need to be relaxed and easy -- not work time, just take-care-of-me time. And the other thing -- I MUST be prepared. I cannot yet "wing" this stuff.
So -- after resting and digesting for an hour or so -- I pulled out the sewing machine and did some mending...on the desk I stayed up late to clean, last night, yeay! Put away the sewing machine as soon as I was done, pulled out the computer and planned my food, starting with lunch out with my friend Suman, tomorrow.
I could already feel the doubt and tension around breakfast and dinner -- would I *really* take time to chop up the apples for the oatmeal at breakfast and cut up the fruit for the smoothie at dinner? I could feel the failure around the edges of the day, trying to get in. I have to get breakfast and dinner right tomorrow, because even the salad I have planned for lunch is 853 calories!
New trick: cut up the apples, put them in the oatmeal pan and added water. Tomorrow morning I'll just have to take the pan out of the fridge, put it on the stove and add oatmeal. Got out the pear, mango and orange for the smoothie, cut them up and put them in a container in the fridge. Whirrr those babies with some water, snag the pecans out of the cupboard, and I'll have a good working dinner tomorrow night.
Tomorrow's new trick? Getting in the exercise! After lunch, Suman's going to drop me at the pool.
And I do have to get in a full six hours of work tomorrow, so I'll have to come home after swimming. I have plans to walk over to Taize worship at St. Paul's tomorrow -- we'll see if that's possible.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Making it easy for myself
Another thought -- a little brighter and easier:
The highest priority in my life, right now, is to lose this weight. And the thing that most deters me is when things start to feel hard. And it seems to be a defect of my character that things really easily begin to feel hard. It's the fear -- that's the ultimate enemy, and I've known it for years, really.
For the last few days, I've essentially told myself that I didn't have to do anything but stay under 2000 calories. Nothing else had to happen -- just that. Of course, I can't live that way forever, and that's why I'm feeling paralyzed tonight.
So -- the next priority is this: make things easy on myself. This is my fifth day of "sobriety" (defined as 2000 calories or less). If I want to have a sixth day, and I'm going to get anything else done, I have to fight off the fear. And until I can conquer the fear, I have to make it easy for myself -- so there's nothing to fear.
At this point I'm certain that no one is still reading, so this is just for me: what will it take to make tomorrow easy for myself?
1) Clean clothes.
2) Food planned and prepped.
3) Work week planned, and if I can get the work space organized that would be a bonus.
That means that cleaning the kitchen drops off the priority list, which takes some pressure off.
Also -- this week I need to add exercise. Making that easy tomorrow just means carrying my swim bag with me, and going to Washington Park because I'm used to going there, instead of going to Glenarm, even though it's closer.
Otay. I feel a little better. It will be interesting to read these blog posts later, when I'm a little less psycho.
The highest priority in my life, right now, is to lose this weight. And the thing that most deters me is when things start to feel hard. And it seems to be a defect of my character that things really easily begin to feel hard. It's the fear -- that's the ultimate enemy, and I've known it for years, really.
For the last few days, I've essentially told myself that I didn't have to do anything but stay under 2000 calories. Nothing else had to happen -- just that. Of course, I can't live that way forever, and that's why I'm feeling paralyzed tonight.
So -- the next priority is this: make things easy on myself. This is my fifth day of "sobriety" (defined as 2000 calories or less). If I want to have a sixth day, and I'm going to get anything else done, I have to fight off the fear. And until I can conquer the fear, I have to make it easy for myself -- so there's nothing to fear.
At this point I'm certain that no one is still reading, so this is just for me: what will it take to make tomorrow easy for myself?
1) Clean clothes.
2) Food planned and prepped.
3) Work week planned, and if I can get the work space organized that would be a bonus.
That means that cleaning the kitchen drops off the priority list, which takes some pressure off.
Also -- this week I need to add exercise. Making that easy tomorrow just means carrying my swim bag with me, and going to Washington Park because I'm used to going there, instead of going to Glenarm, even though it's closer.
Otay. I feel a little better. It will be interesting to read these blog posts later, when I'm a little less psycho.
Finding a new way through
I get paralyzed. Not physically...but almost. My brain locks up and moving in any direction becomes absolutely terrifying. I'm there right now, though it's not the worst case I've ever had.
It's all about fear. Fear that I'll fail. Fear that it will hurt. Fear that I won't get everything done that needs to be done, and tomorrow will find things more messed up than ever.
It results in a mess. My home is a mess -- too messy to fix good things for me to eat, and I don't know what I'll wear tomorrow because I have no clean clothes. My work space is a mess -- too messy to get work done as effectively as I'd like, and there's no way I can do the sewing and other crafty stuff I'd like to do. My time is a mess -- I would love to be at church right now, but instead I'm sitting where I've been sitting for the past four hours, still thinking about what the first move should be, when I could have had a bunch of stuff done by now. Someday it would be nice to spend Sunday NOT trying to make myself do essential stuff...maybe doing some of that fun, creative, crafty stuff and then going to church!
I know the answer. Do something. Anything. It *will* hurt. Everything hurts, at this weight. I *will* fail. I will drop things and find it difficult to pick them up . Some of those things might break, and I'll have to sweep them up. I will have to stop frequently because my back hurts. I will even get paralyzed again and have to fight through it again.
BUT -- tomorrow things will NOT be more messed up than ever. They will be better. At least a little better, *if* I do something.
Also: eating does not help. How have I continued to believe that lie for all these years? Every stinkin' time, I really think that it will be better if I eat a big, greasy bowl of popcorn (or a pint of ice cream, or whatever) -- because THAT will make me feel like rolling up my sleeves and getting to work.
IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY. SOMETIMES HAS, BUT ALMOST NEVER. All it does is buys me a little time not to think about it.
IT'S NOT THAT BAD. It's some dishes in the sink and a load of laundry. And a messy desk and some shelves that need cleaning up.
SOME OF IT WILL ACTUALLY BE FUN. I've been collecting boxes to organize these shelves. It will be fun to use them!
IT WILL OPEN THE DOOR TO MORE FUN AND ENJOYMENT OF LIFE, when it's done.
Whatever. Just do something. Okay, bye.
It's all about fear. Fear that I'll fail. Fear that it will hurt. Fear that I won't get everything done that needs to be done, and tomorrow will find things more messed up than ever.
It results in a mess. My home is a mess -- too messy to fix good things for me to eat, and I don't know what I'll wear tomorrow because I have no clean clothes. My work space is a mess -- too messy to get work done as effectively as I'd like, and there's no way I can do the sewing and other crafty stuff I'd like to do. My time is a mess -- I would love to be at church right now, but instead I'm sitting where I've been sitting for the past four hours, still thinking about what the first move should be, when I could have had a bunch of stuff done by now. Someday it would be nice to spend Sunday NOT trying to make myself do essential stuff...maybe doing some of that fun, creative, crafty stuff and then going to church!
I know the answer. Do something. Anything. It *will* hurt. Everything hurts, at this weight. I *will* fail. I will drop things and find it difficult to pick them up . Some of those things might break, and I'll have to sweep them up. I will have to stop frequently because my back hurts. I will even get paralyzed again and have to fight through it again.
BUT -- tomorrow things will NOT be more messed up than ever. They will be better. At least a little better, *if* I do something.
Also: eating does not help. How have I continued to believe that lie for all these years? Every stinkin' time, I really think that it will be better if I eat a big, greasy bowl of popcorn (or a pint of ice cream, or whatever) -- because THAT will make me feel like rolling up my sleeves and getting to work.
IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY. SOMETIMES HAS, BUT ALMOST NEVER. All it does is buys me a little time not to think about it.
IT'S NOT THAT BAD. It's some dishes in the sink and a load of laundry. And a messy desk and some shelves that need cleaning up.
SOME OF IT WILL ACTUALLY BE FUN. I've been collecting boxes to organize these shelves. It will be fun to use them!
IT WILL OPEN THE DOOR TO MORE FUN AND ENJOYMENT OF LIFE, when it's done.
Whatever. Just do something. Okay, bye.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Last Sabbath in Lent
Look at me, getting all liturgalistic and church-calendary...who knew I had it in me?
I wrote a few weeks ago that I had realized that the season of Lent is roughly one-seventh of the calendar year, so it could be seen as a sort of extended Sabbath season, and that's exactly what it has been for me. Like many of my Sabbath days, it has been "U" shaped, or maybe "J" shaped would be a better way to say it, since it has been more down than up.
I haven't lost any weight, and my apartment isn't very much cleaner. My work life is in better shape, including my volunteer work life (education at Joshua Station). Nothing got all twinkly and sparkly, and I can't find much to brag about, but it all improved.
I have changed some relationships, let go of others, let go of control, let myself dream, and begun to believe that the life I envision is worth working toward, and also worth changing some relationships, letting go of others, letting go of control, and letting myself dream. Maybe an "O" would be a better alphabet analogy?
My test of a "good Sabbath" is whether I have remembered who I am...and that I *can* say about this Lenten season. It has been painful, but I have allowed others' expectations to peel away and I have gotten closer to my core.
I can't say I've liked all of it -- for example, the days when I was completely out of touch with everyone and found that when no one else's voice is in my head...I eat and watch mindless TV. That was a dark time. Then I began to understand that I only do that because I don't know what else to do; when no one is asking anything of me, it's like I switch "off" completely, and that doesn't have to continue.
The past couple of weeks have been times of contemplating what I would do if my voice and the voice of my Creator were louder in my head -- and it has been a time of somewhat cautious dreaming.
I would like, by Easter, to be ready to stop being so cautious.
I wrote a few weeks ago that I had realized that the season of Lent is roughly one-seventh of the calendar year, so it could be seen as a sort of extended Sabbath season, and that's exactly what it has been for me. Like many of my Sabbath days, it has been "U" shaped, or maybe "J" shaped would be a better way to say it, since it has been more down than up.
I haven't lost any weight, and my apartment isn't very much cleaner. My work life is in better shape, including my volunteer work life (education at Joshua Station). Nothing got all twinkly and sparkly, and I can't find much to brag about, but it all improved.
I have changed some relationships, let go of others, let go of control, let myself dream, and begun to believe that the life I envision is worth working toward, and also worth changing some relationships, letting go of others, letting go of control, and letting myself dream. Maybe an "O" would be a better alphabet analogy?
My test of a "good Sabbath" is whether I have remembered who I am...and that I *can* say about this Lenten season. It has been painful, but I have allowed others' expectations to peel away and I have gotten closer to my core.
I can't say I've liked all of it -- for example, the days when I was completely out of touch with everyone and found that when no one else's voice is in my head...I eat and watch mindless TV. That was a dark time. Then I began to understand that I only do that because I don't know what else to do; when no one is asking anything of me, it's like I switch "off" completely, and that doesn't have to continue.
The past couple of weeks have been times of contemplating what I would do if my voice and the voice of my Creator were louder in my head -- and it has been a time of somewhat cautious dreaming.
I would like, by Easter, to be ready to stop being so cautious.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
From my morning reading
"Being part of an order means taking an enhanced view of personal formation. We must not allow ourselves to slide into a daily frenzy of activity that crowds out any thought of future development, or we deny not only ourselves but also our communities. Unless a person keeps an eye to the future, it's easy to stray from the path. Only when we watch the road far ahead can we steer a straight course...maintaining a lifetime perspective and being a lifelong learner arre essential to finishing well." -- John Hayes, sub-merge.
This really confirms the path I've been on during Lent. It has been a little awkward, setting aside seven weeks (roughly a sabbath of a 52-week year, by the way) to go so deeply inward. I have felt a little guilty...but also believed that this could possibly be a "last chance" (? does such a thing exist with God?) to adjust my course before descending quickly into poor health on every level -- physical, mental, emotional and spiritual.
I think I need to read sub-merge a few times through, maybe once a year. And another thought this morning: it's probably time to stop regretting that I didn't learn this stuff in my 20s, and enjoy the view more -- both forward and backward.
This really confirms the path I've been on during Lent. It has been a little awkward, setting aside seven weeks (roughly a sabbath of a 52-week year, by the way) to go so deeply inward. I have felt a little guilty...but also believed that this could possibly be a "last chance" (? does such a thing exist with God?) to adjust my course before descending quickly into poor health on every level -- physical, mental, emotional and spiritual.
I think I need to read sub-merge a few times through, maybe once a year. And another thought this morning: it's probably time to stop regretting that I didn't learn this stuff in my 20s, and enjoy the view more -- both forward and backward.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Fears that sound ridiculous...out loud...
1) There won't be anyone waiting for me at the other end of this journey. The people who know me now won't like the new me, and the reason I got this way in the first place is no one liked me before...how can I know anyone will like me then?
How it feels to start
I want to acknowledge it. As I'm running the hot soapy water in the sink for the dishes, I can actually feel the depression: in my forehead, in my shoulders, in my arms. I believe that if I keep going, it will fall off. I do wonder if there's a spiritual warfare component -- ready for that if there is.
Joy. That's the answer. "Rejoice in the Lord always...again, I say, rejoice." That's a command, if ever I heard one. The chick on The Ellen Show today who got a new car -- she didn't have to be told to rejoice. Apparently, however, we are to rejoice even when it's not automatic.
It makes sense to me, given what I'm struggling through right now. I have a really good life. If I were asked to write out my ideal life I would write out exactly what I have (minus the health problems, the messy apartment, the disorganization). What I don't have is joy.
I can visualize it, I can imagine it, I can dream it, I can plan for it...and when I finally get ready to go, ready to get off the couch and go for it...I meet my first challenge. Getting off the couch. It hurts.
Everything hurts. Everything is uncomfortable. When I start to try to live the life I imagine, it doesn't feel like I'd imagined. It feels like trying to live the life I imagine with 200 pounds packed inside and outside of me.
So I have a choice, here -- I can try anyway, fail some and hurt a lot...or I can quit. Quitting is a real option -- I might even get famous for living naked in my bed for a few years before I die. Even if I don't go out that spectacularly (?) I could probably get by, maybe have some happiness. I think that's what a lot of people in my position end up doing. So it really is an option.
I don't want that option, of course. So I'm going to have to do something else. It is *not* an option to begin right now feeling light and happy and energetic. I'm going to have to find joy *before* I get there.
I'm going to have to find paths to joy that can coexist with the pain and the discomfort. I'm going to have to find joy in small successes, and get my eyes off of all the work that is yet to be done. I think for me that's going to mean doing "small things with great love," which may mean that I look a little silly.
Yesterday I did something that fits this idea -- I opened up a box of decorated mason jars and put away the stuff on my counter, enjoying the feeling of doing it in a beautiful way. It's not the fastest way to get my kitchen counter clean (I could have put the plastic bags into the cabinet), but it made me feel good. It made me feel like I was creating beauty, not just meeting obligation.
So...it's 5:00 pm. I'd like to spend the evening cleaning up my apartment. More specifically, I'd like to have some joy when I wake up in the morning. Yes, that's a better way to say it. The joy of the Lord is my strength.
I'm going to go back to the kitchen, and see if I can find joy in every little patch of counter or floor that's cleared and cleaned. See if I can be doing it because I really want to, because it fits with who I am...not because I'm so full of shame about letting it get dirty.
It makes sense to me, given what I'm struggling through right now. I have a really good life. If I were asked to write out my ideal life I would write out exactly what I have (minus the health problems, the messy apartment, the disorganization). What I don't have is joy.
I can visualize it, I can imagine it, I can dream it, I can plan for it...and when I finally get ready to go, ready to get off the couch and go for it...I meet my first challenge. Getting off the couch. It hurts.
Everything hurts. Everything is uncomfortable. When I start to try to live the life I imagine, it doesn't feel like I'd imagined. It feels like trying to live the life I imagine with 200 pounds packed inside and outside of me.
So I have a choice, here -- I can try anyway, fail some and hurt a lot...or I can quit. Quitting is a real option -- I might even get famous for living naked in my bed for a few years before I die. Even if I don't go out that spectacularly (?) I could probably get by, maybe have some happiness. I think that's what a lot of people in my position end up doing. So it really is an option.
I don't want that option, of course. So I'm going to have to do something else. It is *not* an option to begin right now feeling light and happy and energetic. I'm going to have to find joy *before* I get there.
I'm going to have to find paths to joy that can coexist with the pain and the discomfort. I'm going to have to find joy in small successes, and get my eyes off of all the work that is yet to be done. I think for me that's going to mean doing "small things with great love," which may mean that I look a little silly.
Yesterday I did something that fits this idea -- I opened up a box of decorated mason jars and put away the stuff on my counter, enjoying the feeling of doing it in a beautiful way. It's not the fastest way to get my kitchen counter clean (I could have put the plastic bags into the cabinet), but it made me feel good. It made me feel like I was creating beauty, not just meeting obligation.
So...it's 5:00 pm. I'd like to spend the evening cleaning up my apartment. More specifically, I'd like to have some joy when I wake up in the morning. Yes, that's a better way to say it. The joy of the Lord is my strength.
I'm going to go back to the kitchen, and see if I can find joy in every little patch of counter or floor that's cleared and cleaned. See if I can be doing it because I really want to, because it fits with who I am...not because I'm so full of shame about letting it get dirty.
Here's what I've been thinking since my last post this morning...but it's really hard to explain...
It's about being engaged in life. It's about being joyful, happy to be doing what I'm doing or being what I'm being or whatever.
When I'm teaching, or talking with a donor on the phone, or accomplishing something, I'm engaged...but it's exhausting. It's exhausting partly because I have to get myself into that mode...and it's exhausting because I drag my heavy, awkward body around while I do it.
When I'm *not* doing something like that, or hanging around with people, or whatever, I seem to check out completely. It's like I don't exist at all. I put my brain and my body completely into neutral. I'm not happy about anything. I'm not hopeful about anything. I'm not...anything.
I don't know how or when or why this started, but it's true. The "me" I've been remembering was excited about stuff...looking forward to stuff...but I mostly remember that "me" in situations that didn't end well. A lot of the memories come from the time Tony and I were together, way back when I was 19 years old. I got SEVERELY disappointed in that relationship, and maybe I never really recovered.
I do see my past history as a series of severe disappointments. Maybe at some point it just became easier to not really care -- to do the right thing, to try and make a difference, but to not really throw myself into it completely.
I see that in my time with Terri, in my school, in my work at Joshua Station. I see it in all my relationships. Wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, I'm not completely there. I am always "safe" in my own shell -- the space I create with the space I take up, the chair I have to sit in (never shared with anyone else), the things I can't take part in (it's never me on the zipline with everyone cheering below), the modifications I have to make ("you guys go on dancing, I'll just watch).
It won't work to begin by being engaged with people and things outside of myself. That's sort of the approach I've already taken, and it doesn't work. I show up, but I'm food-hung-over, or dehydrated, or sweaty or unprepared because I wasn't engaged until I forced myself to get engaged five minutes before the activity started.
I'm going to have to find a way to be engaged in life when I'm all alone -- to be excited about what I'm going to do that day when I'm not going to see anyone and no one's going to see what I do. It's going to have to start with me and God and no one else.
I hope I can do that. I need a little time to think about what that would look like.
It's about being engaged in life. It's about being joyful, happy to be doing what I'm doing or being what I'm being or whatever.
When I'm teaching, or talking with a donor on the phone, or accomplishing something, I'm engaged...but it's exhausting. It's exhausting partly because I have to get myself into that mode...and it's exhausting because I drag my heavy, awkward body around while I do it.
When I'm *not* doing something like that, or hanging around with people, or whatever, I seem to check out completely. It's like I don't exist at all. I put my brain and my body completely into neutral. I'm not happy about anything. I'm not hopeful about anything. I'm not...anything.
I don't know how or when or why this started, but it's true. The "me" I've been remembering was excited about stuff...looking forward to stuff...but I mostly remember that "me" in situations that didn't end well. A lot of the memories come from the time Tony and I were together, way back when I was 19 years old. I got SEVERELY disappointed in that relationship, and maybe I never really recovered.
I do see my past history as a series of severe disappointments. Maybe at some point it just became easier to not really care -- to do the right thing, to try and make a difference, but to not really throw myself into it completely.
I see that in my time with Terri, in my school, in my work at Joshua Station. I see it in all my relationships. Wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, I'm not completely there. I am always "safe" in my own shell -- the space I create with the space I take up, the chair I have to sit in (never shared with anyone else), the things I can't take part in (it's never me on the zipline with everyone cheering below), the modifications I have to make ("you guys go on dancing, I'll just watch).
It won't work to begin by being engaged with people and things outside of myself. That's sort of the approach I've already taken, and it doesn't work. I show up, but I'm food-hung-over, or dehydrated, or sweaty or unprepared because I wasn't engaged until I forced myself to get engaged five minutes before the activity started.
I'm going to have to find a way to be engaged in life when I'm all alone -- to be excited about what I'm going to do that day when I'm not going to see anyone and no one's going to see what I do. It's going to have to start with me and God and no one else.
I hope I can do that. I need a little time to think about what that would look like.
The last few days have been so weird. Pretty much motionless, staring at a wall or at the TV...but somehow believing that's what I'm supposed to do.
Little trickles of understanding have been running through me, and I don't know if I would have noticed them, or if they would have trickled at all, if I'd been busier. Stuff I can't really explain, memories of who I used to be (who I really am?), hope for being that person again (or finally).
Every once in awhile, I'll get up and do some dishes, or whatever. That's new. I'm grateful for two more weeks of Lent, hopeful that something will somehow "click" before those two weeks are over...but I don't really have two weeks to stare at a wall. I do have things I have to do.
Still, I'm grateful for this little window. No one really needs me for anything, and I can catch up on my work hours. I'm doing a little work each day, and progress is being made on the web page, which is the highest priority. I think that all is well, for now.
It's noon on Friday, and all I've gotten done is breakfast. I was pretty motionless, and even a little sad. My brother called and said he didn't really want to pick me up for my sister-in-law's birthday party because he wants to spend time with her. I didn't really want to go, either -- not because I don't want to be with them, but because I want this thing that's working out in me to continue. I don't have any clean laundry, and I didn't want to leave my little apartment sanctuary to go downstairs and do laundry. I'm not really ready to be with people, yet.
Then my work phone rang. I hurried to pick it up (I don't need another message to return!), and as I spoke with the sweet woman on the other end I found myself observing myself. Who was this cheerful, capable person?? Was I being fake? Was I putting on an act?
One thought, and I'm not sure about it -- what if I'm *not* being fake or putting on an act when I'm cheerful and capable and helpful around other people. What if that's all real, but I just don't bother to do it for myself? What would it be like to be that person when I'm all alone?
This may be the new direction of the path...I'll be thinking about that today.
Little trickles of understanding have been running through me, and I don't know if I would have noticed them, or if they would have trickled at all, if I'd been busier. Stuff I can't really explain, memories of who I used to be (who I really am?), hope for being that person again (or finally).
Every once in awhile, I'll get up and do some dishes, or whatever. That's new. I'm grateful for two more weeks of Lent, hopeful that something will somehow "click" before those two weeks are over...but I don't really have two weeks to stare at a wall. I do have things I have to do.
Still, I'm grateful for this little window. No one really needs me for anything, and I can catch up on my work hours. I'm doing a little work each day, and progress is being made on the web page, which is the highest priority. I think that all is well, for now.
It's noon on Friday, and all I've gotten done is breakfast. I was pretty motionless, and even a little sad. My brother called and said he didn't really want to pick me up for my sister-in-law's birthday party because he wants to spend time with her. I didn't really want to go, either -- not because I don't want to be with them, but because I want this thing that's working out in me to continue. I don't have any clean laundry, and I didn't want to leave my little apartment sanctuary to go downstairs and do laundry. I'm not really ready to be with people, yet.
Then my work phone rang. I hurried to pick it up (I don't need another message to return!), and as I spoke with the sweet woman on the other end I found myself observing myself. Who was this cheerful, capable person?? Was I being fake? Was I putting on an act?
One thought, and I'm not sure about it -- what if I'm *not* being fake or putting on an act when I'm cheerful and capable and helpful around other people. What if that's all real, but I just don't bother to do it for myself? What would it be like to be that person when I'm all alone?
This may be the new direction of the path...I'll be thinking about that today.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
I'm An Idiot.
Tonight I made a stupid mistake. It wasn't a big mistake, and it wasn't intentional, and it *probably* wasn't selfishly motivated (entirely), but it did hurt someone and I feel terrible about it.
Many questions arise: Why do I feel terrible? Because I got caught being stupid? Yes. Because someone got hurt? Yes. Why am I so scared? Because I'm afraid this incident will create distance between a ministry partner and myself? Yes.
But mostly, I'm scared because I let my guard down, did something without thinking, and opened myself up to complete responsibility and accountability for being really, truly stupid. It can't say good things about me that when I act without thinking, I act like such an idiot.
It seems I've spent a lot of time and energy crafting what people think of me -- the impression I give of my intelligence, my heart and my motives. I'm quite a poet at it, really.
But lately all of my crap hasn't been working, so I'm taking the hint -- God doesn't want me operating that way. Tonight I found out just how thin the shell really is: without it, with only moment-by-moment actions and reactions in my arsenal, I'm an idiot.
I see what's happening here. This is what sorry feels like.
I'm sorry.
Many questions arise: Why do I feel terrible? Because I got caught being stupid? Yes. Because someone got hurt? Yes. Why am I so scared? Because I'm afraid this incident will create distance between a ministry partner and myself? Yes.
But mostly, I'm scared because I let my guard down, did something without thinking, and opened myself up to complete responsibility and accountability for being really, truly stupid. It can't say good things about me that when I act without thinking, I act like such an idiot.
It seems I've spent a lot of time and energy crafting what people think of me -- the impression I give of my intelligence, my heart and my motives. I'm quite a poet at it, really.
But lately all of my crap hasn't been working, so I'm taking the hint -- God doesn't want me operating that way. Tonight I found out just how thin the shell really is: without it, with only moment-by-moment actions and reactions in my arsenal, I'm an idiot.
I see what's happening here. This is what sorry feels like.
I'm sorry.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
What next?
Okay, the bed is made. That makes me want to take a shower and brush my teeth before bed...progress on the hygiene front! Can't believe I'm putting this out on the Internet...but it *is* kinda new for me to do anything about personal care before bed. I tend to reserve all that for the morning...when I'm getting ready to see other people, not for my own comfort. Do we see a pattern evolving, here?
What do I want for tomorrow, then? I would really like to go back to doing my morning and evening routines -- haven't actually done both in one day, yet. I also have plans to go swimming, and an appointment with a Joshua Station teenager's school to make arrangements for getting her caught up in school. That is all stuff I want to do.
Regarding work: I want to get caught up with the web page progress, then get as caught up as possible with donor communication. Last week was pretty slammed with one big project, so all of that slid to the side.
Just looking back at the list. Yes, that is all me. Nothing there that comes purely from outside pressure, shame, guilt, etc. The work goals, of course, are prioritized by what needs to be done, but since I love my work and really want the priorities fulfilled, there is no conflict.
If this seems odd to read, I'm not surprised. It feels odd to write. A pendulum swing -- for so long I've been so far OUT of the "I want to..." thing, that now I'm checking *all* my motivations.
I know, of course, that sometimes I have to do things I don't want to do. It's really complex, too complex to explain, but hat doesn't keep it from swirling around in my head. Do I really *want* to work? Yes, I really do. Should I do it even if I *don't* want to? Yes, of course -- they pay me! How does that all work with my current psychosis? :) Maybe on some points I only need to ask "Do I want this?" at a very high level -- "Is this the job I really want?" (Yes.) On the smaller points, the question becomes more like, "What do I believe needs to be done next, separate from what any particular person might think of me?"
I believe that there will come a time when it all kinda flows around and makes sense. Until then, there's really no other way to proceed than decision by decision.
I'm grateful for the routines I have written out -- that saves a lot of decisions each day. Again, it's a higher-level decision: "Do I really believe in these routines?" (Yes, but I'm open to adjusting them, and some may need to be added to.)
Built into the routines, also, are some smaller decisions. For example: decluttering and hot spot work. Tomorrow, the decluttering I want to do is taking out trash. The hot spot work would be my desk.
One more thing, regarding nutrition. I think the most important thing, right now, is to drink enough water. I am convinced that dehydration makes everything worse -- blood pressure, diabetes, cholesterol -- and that drinking more water makes me feel better almost instantly, and that it helps me to eat less. So: 200 ounces of water a day (a little more than half my weight in ounces).
Good night. I hope I'm a little more sane tomorrow -- but I'm not holding my breath.
What do I want for tomorrow, then? I would really like to go back to doing my morning and evening routines -- haven't actually done both in one day, yet. I also have plans to go swimming, and an appointment with a Joshua Station teenager's school to make arrangements for getting her caught up in school. That is all stuff I want to do.
Regarding work: I want to get caught up with the web page progress, then get as caught up as possible with donor communication. Last week was pretty slammed with one big project, so all of that slid to the side.
Just looking back at the list. Yes, that is all me. Nothing there that comes purely from outside pressure, shame, guilt, etc. The work goals, of course, are prioritized by what needs to be done, but since I love my work and really want the priorities fulfilled, there is no conflict.
If this seems odd to read, I'm not surprised. It feels odd to write. A pendulum swing -- for so long I've been so far OUT of the "I want to..." thing, that now I'm checking *all* my motivations.
I know, of course, that sometimes I have to do things I don't want to do. It's really complex, too complex to explain, but hat doesn't keep it from swirling around in my head. Do I really *want* to work? Yes, I really do. Should I do it even if I *don't* want to? Yes, of course -- they pay me! How does that all work with my current psychosis? :) Maybe on some points I only need to ask "Do I want this?" at a very high level -- "Is this the job I really want?" (Yes.) On the smaller points, the question becomes more like, "What do I believe needs to be done next, separate from what any particular person might think of me?"
I believe that there will come a time when it all kinda flows around and makes sense. Until then, there's really no other way to proceed than decision by decision.
I'm grateful for the routines I have written out -- that saves a lot of decisions each day. Again, it's a higher-level decision: "Do I really believe in these routines?" (Yes, but I'm open to adjusting them, and some may need to be added to.)
Built into the routines, also, are some smaller decisions. For example: decluttering and hot spot work. Tomorrow, the decluttering I want to do is taking out trash. The hot spot work would be my desk.
One more thing, regarding nutrition. I think the most important thing, right now, is to drink enough water. I am convinced that dehydration makes everything worse -- blood pressure, diabetes, cholesterol -- and that drinking more water makes me feel better almost instantly, and that it helps me to eat less. So: 200 ounces of water a day (a little more than half my weight in ounces).
Good night. I hope I'm a little more sane tomorrow -- but I'm not holding my breath.
This goes deeper than I thought.
Haven't posted for three weeks. I've been pretty confused.
I have tried, during this season, to eliminate all distractions from achieving my goals. As I've gone along, however, it seems more and more that what I'm really trying to do is to sort out all the voices in my head. Now I think I'm mostly trying to figure out who I really am and what I really want.
Lately I've hit some pretty bad stretches of depression. See, the more I force out the other voices (family, friends, "ministry" concerns, all the "shoulds"), the more it seems that there's nothing else. Nothing at all.
My apartment is messier than ever, I barely care about getting dressed in the morning, I'm gaining weight (that's what happens when you eat crap and are nearly motionless a lot of the time), and my mind doesn't even seem to be working right. My memory's bad, I can't prioritize, and absolutely EVERYTHING overwhelms me. I'm talkin' about...putting on my shoes overwhelms me. Everything.
I feel ridiculous. Embarassed. Scared that it won't get any better because there doesn't seem to be anything driving improvement. But I don't want to go backward. I really have to go forward on this path, or no change will ever be deep or permanent.
So here goes. What do I want? What do I really want?
I could say that I want a clean apartment, but that's almost too big, and it also opens the door to all the reasons why I *should* have a clean apartment. No good. Won't work. I have proof: the plan was to spend the entire day yesterday cleaning, so I could have a blissful Sabbath. Did not happen. 48 hours later, I haven't picked up a single thing. Totally frozen up. Man, I'm a mess.
Okay, enough of that. What do I want?
I would like to sleep in a made-up bed. Washed the sheets on Friday (was it last Friday, or the week before?), never put them back on the bed. Going now to do that.
I have tried, during this season, to eliminate all distractions from achieving my goals. As I've gone along, however, it seems more and more that what I'm really trying to do is to sort out all the voices in my head. Now I think I'm mostly trying to figure out who I really am and what I really want.
Lately I've hit some pretty bad stretches of depression. See, the more I force out the other voices (family, friends, "ministry" concerns, all the "shoulds"), the more it seems that there's nothing else. Nothing at all.
My apartment is messier than ever, I barely care about getting dressed in the morning, I'm gaining weight (that's what happens when you eat crap and are nearly motionless a lot of the time), and my mind doesn't even seem to be working right. My memory's bad, I can't prioritize, and absolutely EVERYTHING overwhelms me. I'm talkin' about...putting on my shoes overwhelms me. Everything.
I feel ridiculous. Embarassed. Scared that it won't get any better because there doesn't seem to be anything driving improvement. But I don't want to go backward. I really have to go forward on this path, or no change will ever be deep or permanent.
So here goes. What do I want? What do I really want?
I could say that I want a clean apartment, but that's almost too big, and it also opens the door to all the reasons why I *should* have a clean apartment. No good. Won't work. I have proof: the plan was to spend the entire day yesterday cleaning, so I could have a blissful Sabbath. Did not happen. 48 hours later, I haven't picked up a single thing. Totally frozen up. Man, I'm a mess.
Okay, enough of that. What do I want?
I would like to sleep in a made-up bed. Washed the sheets on Friday (was it last Friday, or the week before?), never put them back on the bed. Going now to do that.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Making it halfway through the day
I'm so grateful for the extended "sabbath" of Lent. The things I'm attempting are not going to be learned in one day or even one week (apparently).
More later.
More later.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Mall Poetry
BALLOONS (this one is definitely in progress...but it happened today!)
Four balloons touched down
in the middle of the downtown street:
one pink, one yellow, two white.
One man walked by them, then went back,
face expressionless (no expression seeming right),
picked them up by their ribbons, and tossed them to the sidewalk
so the bus wouldn't hit them, of course.
Three young people stood nearby: two boys, one girl
and the girl, needing something to touch the boys with,
used the balloons to bop them on the head.
It didn't do the trick, so she tossed the balloons up
and watched them like the child she was and is.
Up they flew, to the tops of the buildings,
and for a moment my heart soared with them.
Something beautiful shimmered inside me,
the beginning of a wondering about where beauty comes from.
I turned away to watch the police prep a man for detox.
When I looked back up, my balloons were gone.
IRRITATED/INSECURE
You tell the story again and again, and wait for me to laugh,
forcing me into a moment
when I really thought it was funny
when we thought we were really clever
and perfectly happy.
Do you make the joke again
because you liked me so much then?
Or because you like me so much less now?
Four balloons touched down
in the middle of the downtown street:
one pink, one yellow, two white.
One man walked by them, then went back,
face expressionless (no expression seeming right),
picked them up by their ribbons, and tossed them to the sidewalk
so the bus wouldn't hit them, of course.
Three young people stood nearby: two boys, one girl
and the girl, needing something to touch the boys with,
used the balloons to bop them on the head.
It didn't do the trick, so she tossed the balloons up
and watched them like the child she was and is.
Up they flew, to the tops of the buildings,
and for a moment my heart soared with them.
Something beautiful shimmered inside me,
the beginning of a wondering about where beauty comes from.
I turned away to watch the police prep a man for detox.
When I looked back up, my balloons were gone.
IRRITATED/INSECURE
You tell the story again and again, and wait for me to laugh,
forcing me into a moment
when I really thought it was funny
when we thought we were really clever
and perfectly happy.
Do you make the joke again
because you liked me so much then?
Or because you like me so much less now?
Living and Learning...and Living
I had a really hard time getting out of bed this morning. I hate that paralyzed feeling. It was probably a combination of the chaotic mess around me and indecision about how to spend the day. I blew off an 8:30 podiatrist appointment (what was I thinking when I made that appointment??!!)...then I blew off staff meeting...then I felt guilty...then I said, out loud: "Sabbath was made for me, not the other way around. Get out of bed!"
Got dressed, decided I really didn't want to stay home on such a beautiful day, called a cab and got my butt downtown. It was a good day. Decided to see how it would work to let go of the diet restrictions on Sabbath. Not too bad! Way too many chocolate-covered almonds at the movie ("He's Just Not That Into You"), and a big, greasy roast beef sandwich for lunch (YUMMMM), but nothing in between. Not a weight loss day -- a maintenance day -- and obviously I don't want a lot of those! We'll see...maybe I'll make this a weekly thing, but only IF I can keep the weight loss going during the rest of the week.
It does feel good to let go of the routines for a day. On the other hand, I'm looking forward to getting back to the routines tomorrow, which is maybe a really good outcome of Sabbath rest! It's kinda like being on vacation, and really enjoying it, but looking forward to getting home.
Moments of note today:
-- Writing poetry on post-it notes, sitting on a bench on the mall (will post the poems later)
-- Spending a Tattered Cover gift card to get two knitting magazines and one beading magazine. Lots of new projects, and maybe some I can build into the fundraising visions that are rising up...? Also great to see Aaron Pott at the TC -- I knew I'd run into him there! :)
-- The guy who sat down next to me on the mall this evening, said "How you doing sweetheart" (uh-0hhh...I see it coming...) then "Are you losing weight? 'Cause there's fat farms, and..." !!!!! Maybe I was channeling the strong women in the movie I've just seen. I looked at him and said, firmly and loudly: "You are the rudest person I have ever met. Stop talking to me or I will call the police. I'm going back to reading my magazine. Get away from me!" I kept on reading, and he sat there for a minute silently. He finally got up and said, "Okay, bye. God loves you." I would have said something reconciliatory, but he started again: "But you know, there are--" "NO. YOU'RE DONE," I said, with a hand motion that cut him off completely, so he walked away. It felt good.
So tonight I'm watching "The Biggest Loser" and the SECOND "After the Final Rose" show of The Bachelor (I know...I know...), and eating some Chinese food.
Tomorrow I get up and start the routines again. It's a Wednesday, which is a good day to reboot. Lots of time slots that can be squished around as needed. I also need to get in a LOT of work -- this week in general, and especially tomorrow because the rest of the week has filled up with other stuff.
Blessings and blessings and blessings.... :)
Got dressed, decided I really didn't want to stay home on such a beautiful day, called a cab and got my butt downtown. It was a good day. Decided to see how it would work to let go of the diet restrictions on Sabbath. Not too bad! Way too many chocolate-covered almonds at the movie ("He's Just Not That Into You"), and a big, greasy roast beef sandwich for lunch (YUMMMM), but nothing in between. Not a weight loss day -- a maintenance day -- and obviously I don't want a lot of those! We'll see...maybe I'll make this a weekly thing, but only IF I can keep the weight loss going during the rest of the week.
It does feel good to let go of the routines for a day. On the other hand, I'm looking forward to getting back to the routines tomorrow, which is maybe a really good outcome of Sabbath rest! It's kinda like being on vacation, and really enjoying it, but looking forward to getting home.
Moments of note today:
-- Writing poetry on post-it notes, sitting on a bench on the mall (will post the poems later)
-- Spending a Tattered Cover gift card to get two knitting magazines and one beading magazine. Lots of new projects, and maybe some I can build into the fundraising visions that are rising up...? Also great to see Aaron Pott at the TC -- I knew I'd run into him there! :)
-- The guy who sat down next to me on the mall this evening, said "How you doing sweetheart" (uh-0hhh...I see it coming...) then "Are you losing weight? 'Cause there's fat farms, and..." !!!!! Maybe I was channeling the strong women in the movie I've just seen. I looked at him and said, firmly and loudly: "You are the rudest person I have ever met. Stop talking to me or I will call the police. I'm going back to reading my magazine. Get away from me!" I kept on reading, and he sat there for a minute silently. He finally got up and said, "Okay, bye. God loves you." I would have said something reconciliatory, but he started again: "But you know, there are--" "NO. YOU'RE DONE," I said, with a hand motion that cut him off completely, so he walked away. It felt good.
So tonight I'm watching "The Biggest Loser" and the SECOND "After the Final Rose" show of The Bachelor (I know...I know...), and eating some Chinese food.
Tomorrow I get up and start the routines again. It's a Wednesday, which is a good day to reboot. Lots of time slots that can be squished around as needed. I also need to get in a LOT of work -- this week in general, and especially tomorrow because the rest of the week has filled up with other stuff.
Blessings and blessings and blessings.... :)
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