I've been pondering something disturbing for the past couple of days. A friend posted a report of two lawyers in Thailand, both with post-polio disabilities,who were denied appointments as judges because it was decided that with their limps they wouldn't command the respect that was deemed necessary for judges to wield in the courtroom.
Tonight, I took out my anger on my Nustep. I flat out busted it for 100 minutes, letting loose with thoughts like, "How dare they marginalize them like that?" "What kind of sick society says a person doesn't command respect because they have a limp?""What kind of world is it that marginalizes people with disabilities and neglects to see... to see... to SEE... the courage, the gumption, the creativity, the perseverance, the wit, the beauty, the intelligence?" "What kind of world silences those voices and casts aside those gifts?" "Why are people unable to SEE?"
And as I rode that Nustep, beginning to breathe hard and to sweat, I promised myself that I will never allow people to tell me I am "less than". Oh, they might tell me that... I can't control what others say or what they see, BUT I will not accept that verdict. I will counter by telling them who I am: I am strong. I am a fighter. I am a lover. I am beautiful. I am worthy of being heard because I have suffered, and I have learned, and I have grown, and I have learned to love because of and through it all. I have things to say that the world needs to hear, and I will not allow a sick society to silence my voice.
And I will take care of my body and continue to lose weight and grow healthier. I will dress beautifully and live strong. I will speak out against injustice.
And I defy ANYBODY to tell me that I do not command respect!
It was quite a workout!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Wise or Dumb?
Yesterday, I came face-to-face with another loss in my life, really one that I've been avoiding for a long time, but one that has been steadily becoming more and more apparent. My therapist named it, yesterday, and the hard, cold reality of it hit me hard; although, it WAS wonderful to hear the truth of it from another's lips.
Last night, dealing with the tough emotional residue of being wrenched out of my denial, I had a ravenous appetite. Even while searching the kitchen for "comfort" foods, I recognized that I wasn't physically hungry, so much as emotionally. I scavaged Christmas chocolates from the freezer, half a jar of roasted peanuts, scrambled some eggs, and had two beers. (First alcoholic beverages in months.)
While I was eating this huge amount of food (relative to what I have been eating for the past seven months), I felt satisfied. I didn't berate myself for going "off-plan". I felt like I was taking care of me... and the food did provide comfort. I needed comfort more than I needed discipline last night.
Today, I woke up after sleeping for twelve hours feeling really crappy. Like I had been on a MAJOR drinking binge. Hungover. Sluggish. Grouchy. A marked contrast to the way I have been feeling on Medifast, which has been energized and upbeat.
Sooo, while I don't regret my eating fest of last night, I prefer the good feelings that come from healthful eating. I'm back on track today, and plan to indulge in extra Nustep tonight. I can see a future in which I eat "sanely" 99% of the time, but allow myself the freedom to eat freely and with abandon on those RARE occasions when that seems the best way to love myself. This is either 1)very wise or 2)very dumb. Time will tell...
Last night, dealing with the tough emotional residue of being wrenched out of my denial, I had a ravenous appetite. Even while searching the kitchen for "comfort" foods, I recognized that I wasn't physically hungry, so much as emotionally. I scavaged Christmas chocolates from the freezer, half a jar of roasted peanuts, scrambled some eggs, and had two beers. (First alcoholic beverages in months.)
While I was eating this huge amount of food (relative to what I have been eating for the past seven months), I felt satisfied. I didn't berate myself for going "off-plan". I felt like I was taking care of me... and the food did provide comfort. I needed comfort more than I needed discipline last night.
Today, I woke up after sleeping for twelve hours feeling really crappy. Like I had been on a MAJOR drinking binge. Hungover. Sluggish. Grouchy. A marked contrast to the way I have been feeling on Medifast, which has been energized and upbeat.
Sooo, while I don't regret my eating fest of last night, I prefer the good feelings that come from healthful eating. I'm back on track today, and plan to indulge in extra Nustep tonight. I can see a future in which I eat "sanely" 99% of the time, but allow myself the freedom to eat freely and with abandon on those RARE occasions when that seems the best way to love myself. This is either 1)very wise or 2)very dumb. Time will tell...
Saturday, January 22, 2011
The JOY is in the JOurneY
Back when I started this blog and the journey towards wellness, I imagined it being like a climb up a mountain. It has been that, but not in the ways I necessarily thought.
When I thought of mountain climbing before, it was always about getting to the destination, conquering the path, and then enjoying the reward at the end. Like my real experiences of hikint back in the day, the rewards were akin to the campfire, the vista from the mountaintop, shirking off the pack and massaging sore muscles, the sweetness of just collapsing on the ground and staring up at the clouds and breathing, opening packs and seeing what manner of delicacies we had brought from our comfortable worlds into this wilderness setting to share with one another: chocolate, alcohol (if we were lucky!), delicious dehydrated stews. The destination was the best part. For me, it made the tortures and rigors of the path worth the journey. (For a woman with a progressive neuromuscular disease that caused endless falls, skinned knees and twisted ankles, the hike itself wasn't much fun.)
And that is EXACTLY how I have approached diets and losing weight for my entire life (until now, that is). A diet was like a torturous hike up the mountain, something to be endured just to get to the reward. The faster I could get to the mountaintop (goal weight), the better.
I am a hugely impatient being, and usually, I would derail off the path before achieving the goal. The rigours of the hike were unappealing enough that they would eclipse my vision from hoping for the beauty of the reward at the end. In the midst of discomfort and the slow plodding along the trail, I'd become disenchanted with the journey and head back down the mountain, back to fast food, artery-clogging eating, and my muscle-atrophying lack of activity.
I HAVE CHANGED. I'm not sure how I changed, but I say, without reservation, that something has shifted inside me. I am ENJOYING the journey. The hike is wonderful. Oh sure, it has the occasional discomfort, but overall, I am content to be on the path. I imagine there will be a lovely vista and sweet reward at the mountaintop (and what is the mountaintop? 140 pounds?), but even then, from the vantage point of that high place, I will see higher mountains and be romanced to step onto the trails to their summits.
It is a lifelong journey of taking care of myself, day by day. (Before, I would treat dieting as something that had to be endured until goal weight was reached. I didn't think about it as treating my body well for the rest of my life.)
And that makes all the difference. It makes TODAY a joy. (I don't have to wait for some distant day when I've reached the goal to find happiness.) Happiness is mine today as I exercise, eat well, laugh frequently, and just enjoy the great gift of being alive and being on the trail!
PS For those of you who can't fathom hiking a trail without a detailed trail map to guide the way, and who need to envision progress toward the peak, I will tell you that I am over halfway up "Size 10" Mountain. I began the journey at size 24. I'm now a 16. I haven't weighed myself the first time on this journey, and I am gauging whether I am on the path by how well my clothes fit (or don't fit as they fall off!), and by gains in strength, health, and overall well being. That works SOOOO much better for me than a readout on a bathroom scale.
When I thought of mountain climbing before, it was always about getting to the destination, conquering the path, and then enjoying the reward at the end. Like my real experiences of hikint back in the day, the rewards were akin to the campfire, the vista from the mountaintop, shirking off the pack and massaging sore muscles, the sweetness of just collapsing on the ground and staring up at the clouds and breathing, opening packs and seeing what manner of delicacies we had brought from our comfortable worlds into this wilderness setting to share with one another: chocolate, alcohol (if we were lucky!), delicious dehydrated stews. The destination was the best part. For me, it made the tortures and rigors of the path worth the journey. (For a woman with a progressive neuromuscular disease that caused endless falls, skinned knees and twisted ankles, the hike itself wasn't much fun.)
And that is EXACTLY how I have approached diets and losing weight for my entire life (until now, that is). A diet was like a torturous hike up the mountain, something to be endured just to get to the reward. The faster I could get to the mountaintop (goal weight), the better.
I am a hugely impatient being, and usually, I would derail off the path before achieving the goal. The rigours of the hike were unappealing enough that they would eclipse my vision from hoping for the beauty of the reward at the end. In the midst of discomfort and the slow plodding along the trail, I'd become disenchanted with the journey and head back down the mountain, back to fast food, artery-clogging eating, and my muscle-atrophying lack of activity.
I HAVE CHANGED. I'm not sure how I changed, but I say, without reservation, that something has shifted inside me. I am ENJOYING the journey. The hike is wonderful. Oh sure, it has the occasional discomfort, but overall, I am content to be on the path. I imagine there will be a lovely vista and sweet reward at the mountaintop (and what is the mountaintop? 140 pounds?), but even then, from the vantage point of that high place, I will see higher mountains and be romanced to step onto the trails to their summits.
It is a lifelong journey of taking care of myself, day by day. (Before, I would treat dieting as something that had to be endured until goal weight was reached. I didn't think about it as treating my body well for the rest of my life.)
And that makes all the difference. It makes TODAY a joy. (I don't have to wait for some distant day when I've reached the goal to find happiness.) Happiness is mine today as I exercise, eat well, laugh frequently, and just enjoy the great gift of being alive and being on the trail!
PS For those of you who can't fathom hiking a trail without a detailed trail map to guide the way, and who need to envision progress toward the peak, I will tell you that I am over halfway up "Size 10" Mountain. I began the journey at size 24. I'm now a 16. I haven't weighed myself the first time on this journey, and I am gauging whether I am on the path by how well my clothes fit (or don't fit as they fall off!), and by gains in strength, health, and overall well being. That works SOOOO much better for me than a readout on a bathroom scale.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Feasting!
This past week I have gorged to the point of being almost uncomfortably full, but have stayed 100% on plan with Medifast and have probably lost weight. Huh? Gorged but only consumed about 1000 calories/day. Yup!
There are different ways to feast, dontcha know, than on food!
In the past six days, I've attended:6 fascinating meetings (about homelessness in our community, forming reading groups with people with intellectual disabilites, and serving a free community meal once a month of soup and bread); 2 training events (including a fascinating event on how to be in ministry with poor people in ways that help and not harm); and a beautiful inter-racial gathering to celebrate MLK's life and legacy. Who needs food in the midst of such ABUNDANCE!
As if that wasn't enough, I've experienced healing of relationship with two people I dearly love. (Our conflict has been resolved or well on its way!)
Nothing, nothing, nothing feeds my soul more than:
1) People seeking ways to more effectively and beneficially bless other people, particularly vulnerable people
and
2)Being restored to right relationship with people
I find that these fill the "holes in my soul" in ways that take away the need to use food for that purpose. It allows food to be restored to its rightful place as a blessing and a gift from God.
There are different ways to feast, dontcha know, than on food!
In the past six days, I've attended:6 fascinating meetings (about homelessness in our community, forming reading groups with people with intellectual disabilites, and serving a free community meal once a month of soup and bread); 2 training events (including a fascinating event on how to be in ministry with poor people in ways that help and not harm); and a beautiful inter-racial gathering to celebrate MLK's life and legacy. Who needs food in the midst of such ABUNDANCE!
As if that wasn't enough, I've experienced healing of relationship with two people I dearly love. (Our conflict has been resolved or well on its way!)
Nothing, nothing, nothing feeds my soul more than:
1) People seeking ways to more effectively and beneficially bless other people, particularly vulnerable people
and
2)Being restored to right relationship with people
I find that these fill the "holes in my soul" in ways that take away the need to use food for that purpose. It allows food to be restored to its rightful place as a blessing and a gift from God.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Mid-January Already?
Wow,I sat down two weeks ago, on New Year's Day, to draft a much more detailed and goal-oriented "Bucket List" (about 20 items long with detailed, week-by-week plans for achieving progress in each area) and all I can say is "fasten seatbelts, please!"
It was as though that process of being intentional about goals/dreams/plans unleashed the forces of the Universe to move. Doors are opening for ministry opportunity at a pace that I love. (I HATE WAITING. How much do I hate waiting? So much that if waiting was a stuffed animal, I would rip off its eyes and rip open its guts and stomp on the foam batting while laughing maniacally. I'd then take that batting and use it for cat litter. And then I'd clean the litter box and douse the waste with gasoline and cackle (maniacally again)as I toss a match onto the putrid flaming mess. And then I'd take the ashes and... and... and... oh shoot, I just lost my imagination... but, trust me, I'd do something really vile and disgusting with the ashes, too.) Huh, what was I writing about before I left for that wonderful place in my mind, the land of "Make Waiting Suffer"?
Ahh, yes, I was talking about things moving along at a much more enjoyable pace. (Is it okay to say "About damned time!" to God? No, I didn't think so. That's why I didn't say that. Thought it, but that doesn't count, right? Oh, thoughts count? Well, apparently God can take my cheekiness. Heck if God can deal with my impatience, a little impertinence must be a piece of cake.(I can picture God sighing and saying, "I'm gonna let that one slide. The poor dear spends so much time in "time out", I just don't have the heart to send her there again.")
What in the heck is this blog post about? Ahh, yes, things moving along. And now, I'm too emotionally exhausted to write about that. What?... after disemboweling my stuffed animal named "Wait" and duking it out with the Great I AM, you expect me to have energy to write???? I think not!
If you've read to the end of this post, and come back tomorrow, all I can say is, God bless you.
Peace,
Lynna
It was as though that process of being intentional about goals/dreams/plans unleashed the forces of the Universe to move. Doors are opening for ministry opportunity at a pace that I love. (I HATE WAITING. How much do I hate waiting? So much that if waiting was a stuffed animal, I would rip off its eyes and rip open its guts and stomp on the foam batting while laughing maniacally. I'd then take that batting and use it for cat litter. And then I'd clean the litter box and douse the waste with gasoline and cackle (maniacally again)as I toss a match onto the putrid flaming mess. And then I'd take the ashes and... and... and... oh shoot, I just lost my imagination... but, trust me, I'd do something really vile and disgusting with the ashes, too.) Huh, what was I writing about before I left for that wonderful place in my mind, the land of "Make Waiting Suffer"?
Ahh, yes, I was talking about things moving along at a much more enjoyable pace. (Is it okay to say "About damned time!" to God? No, I didn't think so. That's why I didn't say that. Thought it, but that doesn't count, right? Oh, thoughts count? Well, apparently God can take my cheekiness. Heck if God can deal with my impatience, a little impertinence must be a piece of cake.(I can picture God sighing and saying, "I'm gonna let that one slide. The poor dear spends so much time in "time out", I just don't have the heart to send her there again.")
What in the heck is this blog post about? Ahh, yes, things moving along. And now, I'm too emotionally exhausted to write about that. What?... after disemboweling my stuffed animal named "Wait" and duking it out with the Great I AM, you expect me to have energy to write???? I think not!
If you've read to the end of this post, and come back tomorrow, all I can say is, God bless you.
Peace,
Lynna
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