Making the Time

"If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that."

— Stephen King

I have made a decision.  An all-out, all-in and incredibly obvious decision.  I am going to allow myself to finally become engulfed by that which I love... writing and reading.  I'm heading back to school for the spring semester and I'm going to start cracking the books.  I'm going to devote my time to writing and reading like I have not before.   

Personal training will be a side project - a hobby, if you will.  I just don't love it enough to truly devote my life to it.  I'm still getting certified and I'm still going to make an attempt with my family and friends as well as with the boot camp when the weather gets warm.  But - otherwise, my life is going to be lived in the company of and for my first true love.  Words.

Why didn't I think of this before?

I did.

And I have mentioned it.

But what I haven't done is devoted myself to it the way it needs devotion, nurturing and attention.  Different projects need to be cared for like you care for a child.  To make it work, you have to get to it.  You have to believe it's possible and make the object of your affection grow into itself and grow into who you are within it. 

Been doing alot of mental wandering lately and finding nothing but blank walls and closed doors.  Time to make a change.  You know the weird part?  I never, ever, ever, never, ever find more peace than when I am writing or reading.  It keeps me even and the world finally falls into place.  I fall into place.  My life falls into place on this big, round spinning ball.

Meeting Yore

Like a goblin from a crypt... green with long nails... yellow and rotten with age.  We see this hideous being and shiver.  It hobbles towards us and sniffs around our ears.  We think of nothing at all.  Strangely... nothing crosses our mind.  The smell is overwhelming but the truth is very real.  There is a beast in front of us, around us and getting to know us.  What is he trying to smell... what does she want to know?  Fear keeps us in place.  Fight appears to have won (you're sticking around after all) as the bladder takes flight and embarrassment trickles down our leg.

We are facing it because we have no choice.  Our other alternative is merely a pitch black abyss - which may be where this thing sniffing at our lobes, our neck and our collarbone is from.  We stand still.  Maybe it will just go away.

Instead, it caresses our exposed arm.  We should have worn a sweater tonight.  This is the first and only clear thought that runs through the caverns of our minds thus far. It takes our arm, lifts it slightly and slithers behind us.  Now the thing is sniffing the back of our neck.  The thing is right behind us and continues to lift our arm.  It steps out, ever so slightly so it can reach our fingers and adjust them for it's unholy and evil purposes.  The sniffing has grown less intrusive and more calm.  It has decided our future... and we have nothing we can do about it.

The sweat on our brow, the chill running through our body and the realization that our pointer finger is now fully extended.  Held up gently by that yellow, rotting, broken up bit of nail at the end of this thing's finger. 

We ask what it wants - but only internally.  We receive the answer at the tip of both our finger and the end of the grotesque nail that holds it up.  We see the light.  Like the end of a needle.  Tiny but real.  This thing we disdain, this thing we grew cold over and scared of is merely pointing us the way to go.  Ugly and real... it sees that we see and drops our arm suddenly. 

Away... back to where it came.  A few crunches and cracks under foot.  It was awful - but it was merely a guide... and we will call it Yore.

Runaway Train

My heart started racing today while driving into work.  I had a quick and brief memory of a story my mom once today me about my sister.  Was it a real memory or something that my mind made up?  I'm not sure, I have to talk with mom.  Either way, suddenly... quietly and completely an idea started to form in my mind about it.

What if?

My heart has been beating slightly above normal ever since and the story keeps developing - like a runaway train of ideas.  It's fine.  It's exciting and I feel like it's a gift.

I plan to spend the next several days writing this all down.  I hope to have the script finished by Monday.

Out of My Head

I am one of those people that would easily be described as "in my head".  Yup, that's me.  I'm not sure if others know it or notice it or even give a crap.  But - I have to tell you... more often than not, I give myself a headache.  Quite literally.  I sometimes find that my jaw is clamped down hard for extended periods of time.  I wouldn't go as far as to say I grind my teeth but I am probably only about one step away from doing a little damage to my enamel.

The truth about it is... I annoy myself more often than not with the seriousness with which I take so many things.  There is certainly a time for seriousness and there is a time for lightness.  I do enjoy thinking and forming opinions.  I think everyone should do just that.  Figure yourself out.  I tend to believe, or like to believe - even if not fully acted upon - that life is mostly supposed to be lived in the light.  Having faith in life, which is relatively simple, gets interrupted when one resides so much in their thoughts, dissections and beating the life out of, well, life.

Last night I went to dinner with Spice.  We had a really good time.  I was in a mood.  A good mood.  A light mood - a fun mood.  The kind of mood where I didn't feel like tearing everything apart and figuring out exactly why I felt this way or that... I just felt like being present to the present.  So - I that is what I did.  I'm not sure how I did it exactly but I did.  I had been feeling shaky all day about everything.  Not literally shaking but shaky.  Then I prayed for some lightness to enter my life.  And before I knew it... there I was. 

And it really did feel good.

Random Thought #25

"MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood."
- from a forward

Recall

"Remember your dreams" is what was said to me after my mini-rant.  And remember them I did.  It is so easy to go off track, to forget why your feet are planted where they are.  It is so easy when you see others procure definitive change while you simply kick up dust.  It is so easy when you watch them go a little further ahead without much effort.  Or, maybe, the effort is more than it appears.  Maybe...

Every once in a while the path much taken and the path less taken share small stretches.  Sometimes it makes you wonder if the path you are on is worth it when others seem to be running ahead on their own path.  Way ahead of where you are.  Why do they only have to share the dry ground, not the muddy (harder to get out of) ground? 

"Remember your dreams" and then it all came rushing back.  It's fine.  Their mud is around too.  Just can't see it here.  May never be able to see it - but no matter who you are - the mud will come and go and come and go.  Some of us just have to wade through alot of it in the beginning so that the next stretch can be like walking on pavement. 

Inside of a Miracle

Miracles.  They live amongst us.  Every single day, we pass them on the street, we don't always know they are there but they exist.  Once in a while though - we actually get to acknowledge one. 

A five year old's birthday is always a joyful occasion.  When it's a five year old who has beat cancer back with a stick, it is nothing short of simply amazing.  With hair growing back in and a big, healthy smile on his face... he yelled "cool!" when he opened his grandmother's gift.  Apparently he is into Hot Wheels now.  As little boys often are. 

All of my nieces and nephews are their own brand of miracle.  Everything about them is simply beautiful.  Seeing them head their way into the world, a little bit at a time... is both anxiety inducing but absolutely wonderful all at once.  Everything growing up should be.

Today, though, reflecting on the fact that my nephew was sick, terribly sick and now has the opportunity to go on and live a new life is where the heart resides.  If only we could all bounce back as quickly as he has.  In all aspects of the human person.  Kids are often resilient.  He proves what it is to have joy at the mere thought of living.  If we could bottle up just an ounce of it and give it to the world, things would certainly make their way to perfect.  But - we can't so it is up to us to simply look around and embrace what we do see.  Flaws and all.  As my nephew has proven to me (as well as many others), you do what you have to do... and you will get to open the gifts that are in store.

Happy Birthday, cutie.  Looking forward to celebrating many more.

Only the Lonely

"Loneliness accepted becomes a gift leading one from a life dominated by tears to the discovery of one's true self and finally to the heart of longing and the love of God."
- Unknown

Once a month (or almost once a month) I sit across from a nun, in a small room, in a building dedicated to finding peace.  "The Little Portion", it's called.  The semi-converted house that is now a comfortable and relaxing place to experience massages, reiki and a host of other activities and events.  For me, I visit for spiritual direction.

Guidance in things spiritual, which for me - relates to almost everything in life, if not everything.  Last night I was guided by Sister to sit with the loneliness I have recently discovered.  Now that I've worked at least part way through some of my anger/bitterness/unforgiveness issues, I've been feeling left with all this empty space.  And I realize, in many aspects, the truth of the matter is... I want someone special to share my life with.  In a way I have never felt before.  Not that I have never shared my life with someone special but I am coming from a different place now, a different angle, a different way of looking at things and experiencing things.

What I want is eros.  Romantic love. 

While I know this is important to me, I have often and easily avoided it - whether consciously or not.  It's been pretty simple, really.  Go out with the wrong guys, settle for the wrong guys (albeit, briefly) or have some meaningless flings.  Personally, I found myself searching for nothing but momentary fun and found little of it.  (There are a few exceptions, of course - to all of this.)  Have I been honest?  Yes, I have been.  I never intended to get involved with anyone with the intention of it simply not working out.  My desire for "fun" was genuine.  And my mind, though not my proverbial heart, remained open to falling in love.  I just found myself quietly not wanting to settle down to any one person for too long.  There was always an emotional piercing of fear that came with that idea.  Losing myself had become my greatest defeat in life and one that I was not willing to suffer again.  So - I didn't.

Now, however, things are a little different.  I'm ready to be vulnerable.  I'm ready to let myself go (emotionally - I'm still working out).  And, yet, now there are no real love interests in sight.  Which is - gulp - ok. 

My spiritual director pointed out to me that she noticed I am just sitting with my loneliness and that it is a wonderful place to be.  (Not that I want to be here forever.)  She is right.  I am not trying to fill it with the things I have in the past.  Shopping, drinking, eating, spending money, online dating, exercising and even... possibly... medicating myself into not feeling it.  Loneliness is not depression.  It is a very distinct feeling and experience.  Unpleasant, yes but completely normal.  I have used each of these as a way to ward the underlying feeling off.  Not that every time I have done or used these things, that was what was on my mind... it didn't work exactly like that either.

It is in loneliness that one can get to feel who they really are.  They can see it without intent of making it different.  That is, if one chooses to feel it completely and totally.  Without running toward somewhere or something else.  There is a depth to it that can be unmistakable but surely there.  As I said before, I do not hope to always feel it (that would be crazy) but for now, I can accept it and not follow any of the old paths.  I do believe I will know when it's time to step back out into the world completely but for now my life is beckoning me in another direction.  And in that direction, I will go.  Alone.   

Book One: Check

"One part at a time, one day at a time, we can accomplish any goal we set for ourselves."

- Karen Casey, from Achievement of a Life Goal

It is a slow hill to climb.  This whole studying bit.  I like it but I don't love it as much as... say... writing.  I would still much rather be spending my days, weeks and months helping people get fit than what I do now for a living.  Writing and school on the side.  So that one day - writing can take over as my source of income.  Not that I won't work on it before that day comes... who knows... maybe it will come sooner... but for now, I'm studying my materials and preparing for a $200 exam that states whether I am certified or not.
 
This morning I finally finished the first book on my journey.  I have the end of chapter notes to continue going over.  I do wish I loved it just a smidge more than I do at the moment.  I think this book just bored the crap out of me, to be honest.  But - I had to study it.  Had to get through it so I can move onto the next book and accompanying workbook. 
 
Either way though - I've made real, discernible progress.  And that is a good thing.  A very good thing.  I am one step closer to where I am headed.  Wherever that might be.  I can envision it but I do not exactly, really know what my future is going to look like.  It's a curious thing, really.  Each day that passes... I make progress... something new is being formed but I am not really sure what the final product is going to be.  I am sure that I am not alone in this situation.  Curious how it's all going to work out... hopeful that it works itself out for good... knowing that deep, down inside it will... but still unsure in some sort of way.
 
 

Happy Meals

When I was a kid... oh so many years ago... (not as many as some, way more than others)... kids rode their bikes.  Kids ran around outside.  Kids played games like tag and jailbreak and Marco Polo when the weather was warm.  Kids went sledding when the snow fell and roller skating on Fridays.  Kids were active.  Just like they ought to be, in my opinion. 

You know what else kids were not?  Obese.  Sure, there was always one or two kids in the class who had extra (sometimes alot of extra) weight on them.  Unfortunately, they often got the short end of the stick.  They were made fun of (which was not ok) and finding friends may or may not have been easy.  I felt for them.  Always have.  There's no reason to base your opinion on someone because of their weight.  They may or may not have an eating addiction or disorder.  They may have a medical condition or medication issues you are unaware of.  There is simply no reason to allow weight to tie into whether or not they are a worthy person for your friendship, caring and compassion.  The fact of the matter is... no matter what... no one is perfect and judging someone on their weight alone is shallow.  Simple as that. 

I have certainly battled with my weight a bit too.  It happens.  Especially as you get a little older but these days - there are problems with more and more children becoming larger than they should be.  I'm not talking about a judgement on the children per say.  I hate to throw it out there but much of it resides on the part of the parents.  Life has become more complicated, more difficult, harder to manage and nearly impossible to "get right" - not that anyone ever has or ever will.  Even saints are sinners.  Childhood obesity, I would say, is a symptom of a much larger problem... it is not a singular issue with one singular answer.  It is, however, an issue that can be fixed.  While the overarching problems that have produced this symptom are more complicated than a mere "do this, don't do that" attitude... when it comes to this... there are options, however.

In San Francisco, the city itself is considering a ban on Happy Meals.  Not only does this go against the rights of McDonald's to offer the Happy Meal... this goes against the rights of the people to make their own choices about what their children may or may not eat.  If you want McDonald's to get rid of something on the menu, complain to the company - boycott the company until they comply... do not take it to a vote by city officials (the government) to decide about whether or not you have a choice in your food stuffs.  This is creeping in eerily close to control of the people.  Yes... we have to pay for some of the medical issues down the road due to obesity.  But - there are ways to counteract that too.  And, that - also - can start in childhood.  Making the right choices - by choice - when it comes to maintaining your health - is the individual's responsibility - it is not the role of the government to make this decision for you.

As for parents - they need to be responsible for their children's health and well-being.  Granted, you cannot make them be responsible for it but to throw it on McDonald's as though it is their fault - because they offer a toy along with unhealthy food options (which taste damn good - especially to kids) is unfair and irresponsible in and of itself.  Happy Meals were first introduced in 1979... yet it has not been until relatively recently that the fast food chain has come under fire. 

There are multiple options that parents have to avoid the big, nasty trap that McDonald's has set for their children.  (note: sarcasm)

1) Tell your kids "no".  They will not be permanently scarred because they did not get a Happy Meal once a week (or more).
2) Tell your kids "no" but allow them once in a while, as a treat, to enjoy themselves a Happy Meal.  Make it clear this is a treat and not a way of life.
3) Explain the reasons that it should not be a way of life.  (ie. it's unhealthy to do all the time - and you love them enough to want to give them the best possible shot at living a long and healthy life) 
3) Realize that no one is forcing you to buy your kids fast food.  Make them a sandwich at home.  It may not be as quick and convenient but it'll be loads healthier.  (Though it's hard to imagine how much time it would take to throw together a PB&J as opposed to driving to your local fast food chain.)
4) When you teach your kids to make themselves a sandwich and to slice up some apples to go along with it, you are teaching them to fend for themselves, to be responsible for themselves and to actually be more active than just jumping in the car and going through the drive-thru.
5) Send them outside to play, to run around, to work off the food (no matter where it came from - your kitchen - or Burger King's kitchen).

Is it as simple as this?  Yes and no.  As I said, life is tough.  Balance, in this (as well as all areas) is key to a healthy life.  Teaching your kids this balance can be tricky but well worth it in the long-run.  Stand up for yourself - get the government out of our food choices and options by making good decisions on your own.  Don't wait for someone to take away your options before making the right choice.  If you want the choice of apples instead of fries: speak to the manager, write a letter - ask others to write letters too.  Boycott. Granted, if you think it doesn't matter how heavy your kids are - the right choice may be something different than what I think.  But - if that was the majority of what people think than we probably wouldn't be having the debate at all.

The Outside of the Garage

A few times today I have started then stopped some blog ideas.  The first time I did not complete it because my thoughts were certainly not all in order on the subject I was about to address (not that they always are when it comes to this particular blog) but since I was about to delve into the act and idea of "balance" in general, I feel that I should probably have some in a blog about it.  Then I realized that was only a passing fancy and I deleted the beginning of that post.

Second came the blog that I began writing that sounded like so many others.  I realized I was just about to begin boring myself - let alone you.  So, I deleted that one after a couple paragraphs in.

Shortly after deciding to delete both of my previous options, I went back to my reading.  My boring, boring medical terminology charged science book.  Instead of complaining about my rut, I decided to work towards ending my rut. 

Earlier today I asked my dad how his work came along yesterday.  He's been working on fixing up some things around my parents' house.  Something that, for some, can be an extremely gratifying experience.  Working on and improving the home.  He said he got some work done but the overall picture reveals that he actually got very little done.  While he will keep on going and eventually begin to see some real results, at moments he said it just seems like such a big job... as if the progress he has made is none at all.

I completely concur.

A few of my friends have recently asked what I have been up to... what's going on... if I have anything to report.  The answer is usually "no, nothing new".  And that's because there really is very little new.  Not everyone wants to hear about my emotional state and the forgiveness factor and the like when they ask "what's up?".  Usually they want (understandably so) concrete answers.  Like, I've lost ten pounds or I've got a date on Friday or something of that nature.  (No, I don't have a date on Friday - simply an example.)  So... I generally have nothing to say right now.  Not at this moment... not in light of the grand scheme of my life's plan(s).  Still... reading just a little more, going over material that has already been read and making my way through the book is a teeny, tiny step in the right direction.  And usually that is just how it goes.

Entertaining Angels

It was fifty years ago, on a hot summer day, in the deep south. We lived on a dirt road, on a sand lot. We were, what was known as "dirt poor". I had been playing outside all morning in the sand.

Suddenly, I heard a sharp clanking sound behind me and looking over my shoulder, my eyes were drawn to a strange sight! Across the dirt road were two rows of men, dressed in black and white, striped, baggy uniforms. Their faces were covered with dust and sweat. They looked so weary, and they were chained together with huge, black, iron chains. Hanging from the end of each chained row was a big, black, iron ball.

They were, as polite people said in those days, a "Chain Gang," guarded by two, heavily armed, white guards. I stared at the prisoners as they settled uncomfortably down in the dirt, under the shade of some straggly trees. One of the guards walked towards me. Nodding as he passed, he went up to our front door and knocked. My mother appeared at the door, and I heard the guard ask if he could have permission to get water from the pump, in the backyard, so that "his men" could "have a drink". My mother agreed, but I saw a look of concern on her face, as she called me inside.

I stared through the window as each prisoner was unchained from the line, to hobble over to the pump and drink his fill from a small tin cup, while a guard watched vigilantly. It wasn't long before they were all chained back up again, with prisoners and guards retreating into the shade, away from an unrelenting sun. I heard my mother call me into the kitchen, and I entered, to see her bustling around with tins of tuna fish, mayonnaise, our last loaf of bread, and two, big, pitchers of lemonade. In what seemed "a blink of an eye", she had made a tray of sandwiches using all the tuna we were to have had for that night's supper.

My mother was smiling as she handed me one of the pitchers of lemonade, cautioning me to carry it "carefully" and to "not spill a drop." Then, lifting the tray in one hand and holding a pitcher in her other hand, she marched me to the door, deftly opening it with her foot, and trotted me across the street. She approached the guards, flashing them with a brilliant smile. "We had some leftovers from lunch," she said, "and I was wondering if we could share with you and your men." She smiled at each of the men, searching their dark eyes with her own eyes of "robin's egg blue." Everyone started to their feet. "Oh no!" she said. "Stay where you are! I'll just serve you!" Calling me to her side, she went from guard to guard, then from prisoner to prisoner, filling each tin cup with lemonade, and giving each man a sandwich.

It was very quiet, except for a "thank you, ma'am," and the clanking of the chains. Very soon we were at the end of the line, my mother's eyes softly scanning each face. The last prisoner was a big man, his dark skin pouring with sweat, and streaked with dust. Suddenly, his face broke into a wonderful smile, as he looked up into my mother's eyes, and he said, "Ma'am, I've wondered all my life if I'd ever see an angel, and now I have! Thank you!" Again, my mother's smile took in the whole group. "You're all welcome!" she said. "God bless you." Then we walked across to the house, with empty tray and pitchers, and back inside.

Soon, the men moved on, and I never saw them again. The only explanation my mother ever gave me, for that strange and wonderful day, was that I "remember, always, to entertain strangers, for by doing so, you may entertain angels, without knowing."

Then, with a mysterious smile, she went about the rest of the day. I don't remember what we ate for supper, that night. I just know it was served by an angel.

By: Jaye Lewis

I Forgive You

"Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future."
- Paul Boese

Working on forgiveness lately - as some or maybe all of you know.  Forgiveness of one person in particular but, really, several people have shown up in my head while I have been putting my best foot forward in this area.  Most of whom do not need forgiveness per say but, rather, an understanding from me.  An "I'll just let it go" type of thing.  And "let it go", I have begun.

In the process of trying to rewire my brain and retrain my thinking... in the process of trying to attempt the spiritual side of forgiveness as well... the mechanical side has come to light, just a little bit brighter than it was before.  The "in the moment" feeling of the last week or so has been a relief.  Deal with what's here and now... instead of what cannot be changed, cannot be altered, what resides in the past. 

It is so incredibly easy, once hurt, bruised, battered or otherwise mistreated (whether mentally or physically) to just stay with that period of time.  To just stay in that land - whether you are wanted or not - whether you even want to be there or not.  It is relatively easy to replay the pain, as difficult as it is to feel because who knows what may exist for you outside the realm of what you have known.  You know this territory, you know how to navigate it.  If you let all of this go... get your car unstuck from the mud... where might you end up?

That, however, makes it simplistic.  Fear holds me back from moving on.  No... not exactly.  Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of success, fear of whatever seems like an easy explanation.  But, no, that's not it exactly.  For me, it's been the fear of a lack of justice.  Or what I would perceive to be justice.  I wanted to see it, smell it, watch it.  Not necessarily impose it myself but I kind of wanted to know that it was happening.  I wanted to know that all of those things that I had been brought to believe about myself were not true... I wanted to know that others, particularly those who had disregarded, used, played with and otherwise behaved like I was less than a human who deserved an ounce of respect and real kindness, were brought to their knees too.  Simply put, I wanted those people to just simply prove to me that they were unhappy.  But - this didn't happen.  Not that I have proof nor have I ever had proof that they are happy.

Then comes the next question - why did I want "justice" so badly?

The truth is... because the same thing that got me into some of my messes is the same thing I was trying to combat, even after the mess had exploded all over the room.  Even after the mess had been cleaned up for all intensive purposes... the truth was, a blacklight would should still show the lint on the sweater.  It was still there.  For the same reasons I allowed the mess to get as bad as it did... why I didn't duck and run at the first sign of trouble... or the hundredth sign of trouble for that matter... I really did not know I could or that I should or that there was even a choice in the matter.  How does one not know there's a choice when there is always a choice?  Part of it may have been immaturity... part of it was the need/want/automatic reaction to please others (everyone but myself)... part of it, much of it was simply a lack of love for myself.  Maybe if other people could love me, listen to me, hear me and maybe even react to me then maybe I would be a complete person. 

I looked for the validation in many of the wrong places.  I looked anywhere the wind blew me... in many, many places I should never have even gone.  Which would makes sense to some... or maybe most... the validation never did come.  Once in a while there was a glimmer of hope but the hope never turned into anything more. 

Why did I want "justice" so badly?  Because I wanted to know others were the same as me.  That maybe those people... up there... weren't ever truly any better than me.  Maybe they can fall down from their pedestal.  Maybe I can see it so that I know, for certain, that it's not me... it's them too.  Maybe if they feel shitty, then I'll feel less shitty.

All of this, I realize, is backwards thinking.  First off, in many cases, I am the one who built the pedestal to begin with.  My assumptions often being that the other person was more important than I am.  And if they are not more important, they are more "something".  My value was never diminished, it just simply never existed.  Second, why shouldn't I... instead... build the pedestal up to them... look them in the eye and say "I forgive you for using my weaknesses against me... you may or may not have even known you were doing it... it really doesn't matter what your motives were or weren't.  That is your problem to deal with, not mine.  Not anymore.  You should not have treated me badly but you did and it worked, it kept me in my place for long enough.  But - I don't want that place anymore.  I want to be up here, where the air is fresh and clean.  I deserve to be, same as you.  One day you may need a hand to get back up here, if so, let me know... I am really hoping that I will be, at that time, able to say... here let me help you up.  I'm not there yet, so I hope you either don't fall or you do have someone else to help you... you probably do, as you deserve to... same as me.  I would prefer we just stay out of each other's way for now, probably for good.  But - I am hoping that one day I will be able to say, at least to myself, that if you ever need anything... you can come to me.  For now, I can't but that's ok too.  I forgive you... that's all I am really trying to say."  
 

Ten Pounds

Stall... then movement.  Sweet.  Ten pounds down.  Granted, it's taken me alot longer than I would have liked but I can't complain.  Just as long as the scale does come down, I am pleased. 

Am I following a diet?  No.  Am I paying attention to what goes into my mouth?  Yes.  Am I exercising?  Absolutely.  Within reason.  Am I making some changes to the types of food I eat?  Yup.  Am I enjoying all those super tiny frozen diet meals?  Nope.  Liquid meals?  Uh-uh.

Yogurt for breakfast each morning, along with some cereal, a Luna Bar or some fruit (or fruit juice).  A marinated George Foreman grilled chicken sandwich for lunch on whole wheat with lowfat cheese along with fresh lettuce and tomato, applesauce or a small salad (ok... I got a little tired of the salads so I've taken a break - hence, the no sugar added applesauce)... Mondays and Fridays lunch is tuna on whole wheat with a salad or applesauce.  If I get hungry in between my meals, a snack is fine.

Dinner... well... I can have whatever I want.  Though I try to make sure the sides are all veggies (preferably steamed).  I do enjoy some pasta, some nights - regular pasta, not whole wheat (though for those who like whole wheat - God bless!) - without regret - with cheese on top.  If I find myself hungry after dinner... light popcorn, a low-fat/low-calorie ice cream treat or flavored rice cakes (the mini cheddar cheese ones from Aldi are soooo good).  Should I be getting a few more fruits and veggies?  Yes, probably.  I won't deny it. 

After workout drink... fat free chocolate milk.

Weekend breakfast options change... whole wheat frozen waffles, whole wheat pancakes or some eggs... turkey bacon or turkey sausage on the side.  Fruit juice is a definite.  Fruit is the add-on that I need to pay more attention to there.  It'll be easier when the summer comes.  Somehow I don't enjoy fruits and salads during the winter quite as much as during the warmer months.

When I go out to eat - I get what I want.  When I order in - which is not so often... I order what I want.

I think I may have finally found balance... well... closer to balance... I do still need to up the fruits and veggies a bit.  And I'm not done yet (in terms of the scale) but losing 10 pounds is a relief.  To see the scale at the lowest point it's been in I don't know how long made me feel good.  Not just because I look better or just because I am programmed to think the extra weight is not ok.  I am headed back to my most healthy and most comfortable weight.  I am also headed towards a goal and my efforts are paying off.  Without becoming obsessed - it's working.  Healthier choices.  Plain and simple.

Rusting Off

Last month I wrote less blogs than I have in quite some time.  Not sure if this indicates something or not.  In some ways, I think it's because I am a bit more stable than I have been in a while - yet, in some ways it's because I am feeling more vulnerable than I have in a long time.  Being continually angry... even if on a lower level... just feels like a friend.  It feels like a form of protection.  A dysfunctional one, yes but armor anyway.

Now some of that is gone.  It has rusted and fallen off.  Litter by the side of the road.  Not a necessarily bad feeling but an empty one.  There is this gigantic space in my life that needs to be filled.  (And, no, I'm not talking "God sized hole" here - we're closer than we have ever been.)

Still, there is something very large missing from my life.  Something I have looked for though not well... something I have started then stopped, stopped then started, something I had interest in being open to but still kept myself closed off.  It's something simple yet complex.  Common and uncommon all at once.  It's love.

Romance, sure.  But - that is not the only type I am talking about here.  Friendship, uh-huh and family, of course.  The more elusive for me has been where it all begins.  Within.  (Ahh... I feel like a new age hippie.)  Moving beyond what I think the world wants to see or what others think is "right" and deciding for myself what I think is "right".  Doing what I have to do and making it the way I want it.  Standing my ground yet allowing others in to see what is happening.  Not that I have always been close lipped, many who know me know otherwise.  My defenses though tough have done me more harm than good.  This armor is slowly slipping away and I'm like a cut in the open air.  Open to infection but open to healing too.