There's scarcely any positive human touch in my life these days - being without a partner. I do give my son lots of hugs, high-fives, snuggles, and tickles. It's especially sweet when he gives affection back in his own way.
God is the madwoman in the attic.
I'm camped out on the threshold with my journal, camera, and plenty of snacks.
I'm camped out on the threshold with my journal, camera, and plenty of snacks.
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Sunday, March 02, 2014
head massage
There's scarcely any positive human touch in my life these days - being without a partner. I do give my son lots of hugs, high-fives, snuggles, and tickles. It's especially sweet when he gives affection back in his own way.
Labels:
color,
divorce,
good questions,
healing,
homelife,
love,
motherhood,
winter
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
raising a spiritually conscious child
I'm perpetually wondering about and wrestling with
how to share the spiritual aspects of life with Little N.
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Growing up as an Evangelical Christian, my family did a lot to develop my Christian consciousness. In addition to Sunday worship at church, there was attendance at a Christian elementary school for some years, weekly Pioneer Girls (think Christian Girl Scouts), and nightly Bible stories, prayer, and praise songs before bed. As a teen, Pioneer Girls was replaced with Bible Study and Youth Group. But always there was some group activity and relationships participating in my development.
As an adult, I've largely stepped away from Evangelical Christianity and adopted a more spiritual-but-not-religious approach to my faith, with pagan leanings. This is rich and meaningful to me, but leaves me at a loss, I feel, for how to share a vibrant, lived spirituality with my son. With no community with whom to share this good work, I'm seeking alternatives on my own. To that end, I've ordered the following three books, in hopes for some cues and clues along the way:
I first saw Peaceful Piggy Meditation in a therapist's waiting room and wanted to steal it! (I didn't.) It offered such a simple clear way to start meditating with this totally non-threatening little pig. Piggy makes it look easy, do-able even. I've thought of the book several times since then and finally decided to purchase my own copy to share with Little N.
Sitting Still Like a Frog came up to view as I searched for the Piggy. Written to parents, I'm optimistic that it can be one of my guides in teaching Little N mindfulness, that I hope will help him to manage and process the big emotions that seem to come with Autism. Also, I need help with mindfulness.
A note on Christianity: I feel like I'm recovering from years in Evangelical Christian culture. But that is not the same thing, to me, as the person, life, and message of the Christ. In my spirituality there is plenty of room for meditation, mindfulness, and even pagan awareness in concert with Christ. So while I (try to) remain open to Christianity, the packaging tends to turn me away from it, and makes it hard for me to find open, vibrant, true ways to share Christ with my son. I will say, that Mima sent Little N a Christian book about kindness and he loves it. We read it most nights. It's offered us an excellent place to start.
Labels:
choice,
difference,
good questions,
healing,
homelife,
motherhood,
portrait,
practice,
ritual,
traditions,
transitions
Friday, January 31, 2014
not quite… & yet
I have a few confessions to make.
I've been smoking. Not the half pack a day that I was up to, but, yeah, smoking. Last week I smoked a total of 3 cigarettes all week. I was Awesome! This week I smoked 1 complete pack. I Suck!
And the great success of Little N's new room… not exactly. It's turned into me sleeping on the floor next to his bed, at least until he falls asleep. I usually doze off as well and wake up stiff and achy after a couple hours on the floor, rouse myself enough to get to my room, and fall back to sleep in my own bed.
And my health kick for the new year is more like one massive trigger to overeat. I mean, I have cookies baking in the oven right now and I'm the only one that's going to eat them. I haven't been keeping to any of my health, nutrition, and fitness intentions.
But there's this great little Pagan-Christian hybrid holiday coming up which is perfect for situations like this one I've sunken myself into.
Imbolc (or Candlemas or St. Brigid's Day) is a holiday about recognizing the early signs of spring, the longer reach of sunlight into our days being key among them. I've also observed it as a holiday about human creativity like art and poetry or even entrepreneurial endeavors. Imbolc marks the transition from winter into spring. It is where we step from a season of hibernation into the new season of action. The seeds start stirring in the physical world around us and within the worlds of our own lives.
So, it's a perfect time for me to map out meal plans and grocery lists, set the alarm clock a little earlier for morning workouts, and continue to quit smoking. I set an intention for this year and now that the season of action is upon us, with the encouragement of sunlight and the coming spring to accompany me, I'm trying again. I'm marking out in the physical world a sense of self I claim in my internal world - nonsmoker, healthy, active, engaged, emotionally and spiritually present.
I've been thinking a lot lately of how I feel my emotions in my body. Mostly in my gut but sometimes in my chest or a parched mouth or an aching head…. Of course, I shut that all down with a bag of Doritos or a couple Dove squares or a simple cigarette. I'm thinking about all that presence that I'm avoiding through the way that I treat my body. And I'm wondering if my spirituality is in my body as well. The messages, the inspiration, the prayers, and the presence, is all in my body. How do I want to treat the medium of discernment and meaning in my own life? How do I want to behave and be with the people that I engage with throughout a given day? Coming home to my own emotions and spirituality happens when I come home to and tend my own body.
I lived January as another month of hibernation. Pondering. Experimenting. But not committing to the intentions of my year. Imbolc offers another opportunity and the good company of the natural world to actively participate in my own embodiment physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
Labels:
choice,
good questions,
healing,
holiday,
homelife,
office space,
practice,
ritual,
spring,
traditions,
transitions,
winter
Saturday, January 18, 2014
the final smoke
I smoked my final cigarette today.
Not just the last one in the pack. The last cigarette of my life! I made sure to enjoy it. I sat on a rock by the library and just inhaled, exhaled, watched the smoke circle and dance and the ash flutter in the wind. As health damaging habits go - it was lovely.
I'm working with the recent recognition that my emotions reside in my body. I need to check in with my body to perceive what I'm feeling and where it is in my body. Smoking masks some of that, robbing me not only of physical vitality but emotional vitality as well. I'm bored, sad, tired, stressed, angry, I need to smoke - no! I need to sit with the feeling a minute. Locate it in my body. Jot it down. Carry it gently. Notice if it brings any other news with it.
Some people smoke to lose weight or maintain a slender size. But I wonder if quitting smoking might help in my efforts to lose weight. I'm an emotional eater, just like I'm an emotional smoker, which means I use these devices of food and cigarettes to not feel what I'm feeling. Maybe eliminating one of these methods can start to open me up to how I feel and I can find some other way/s to experience and express the emotions. It's going to take vigilance and some sort of strategy, new tools and practices, habits and behaviors to live in my body and in my feelings. (Thank goodness there's a therapy appointment scheduled for this week….)
Labels:
choice,
color,
good questions,
healing,
homelife,
practice,
ritual,
transitions,
winter,
wish
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Saturday morning
I'm still recovering from a vulnerability hangover here.
a little reminder (for me & for you) about the Power of Vulnerability:
Labels:
choice,
difference,
good questions,
healing,
hope,
love,
motherhood,
practice
Thursday, January 09, 2014
I am sad… that Little N has Autism
We had an important meeting this week at Little N's school. It was his Special Ed reevaluation and Individualized Education Plan meeting where the school psychologist and Little N's teacher and in-school therapists discuss his current scores on their examinations of him with us, his parents. We also planned the goals for his next year of school. It was an in-my-face discussion of all the places where Little N continues to fall behind peers his age.
I was anxious and preoccupied leading up to the meeting. When we first received the notice for reevaluation I was nervous. Little N was thriving in the Special Ed class, what if they wanted to pull him out of it! Then we received his report card. Little N was scoring below average in most areas of the report. What if he never got out of Special Ed? What if he could never hold a job, make friends, offer compassion to someone… the fears and questions took over.
During the meeting, I took notes on all of Little N's challenges. They are painful to me. It's as if Autism gets in his way of being him. But then I also try to be pro-Neurodiversity. I try to acknowledge and accept and advocate that there are many ways of being, perceiving, and expressing oneself in the world. We've got a smattering of typical, acceptable ways to be in society but kids like Little N reveal more of what's possible. Autism doesn't necessarily get in the way of him being him; it's part of him being him and part of what he offers his family, classmates, teachers, future employers, and all the folks that come in contact with him.
I put a good face on it on Facebook. And it was a good meeting. Little N is a joy to work with. Each one of the experts in the room repeated that in one form or another. They enjoy working with him. He's eager, playful, fun, retains what he's learned, makes excellent progress. And... he scores below average on all of their tests.
I brought all of this to my much-loved therapist. "I'm sad," I told her. She murmured understanding. Then she asked me, "How sad do you feel?" I couldn't answer. I need time to sit with myself and just feel all the emotions tangled up in my son's Autism. She could have said, "It's not all about you." But she didn't. Because my feelings about my son's challenges are about me. I'm allowed to feel sad sometimes, even as I get to be encouraging and curious and supportive a lot of the time.
I have some sense of where the sadness comes from. My grief that the perfect, typical boy I thought I had is gone, along with all my unarticulated dreams and expectations for him. My memory of the close relationship between grades and self esteem: A means I'm awesome, D means I'm dumb. What could "below average" possibly mean in that matrix? My fear of the world out there, of cliques and cruelty, where there is very little room for someone different. My pervasive doubt that I can in any way equip him for that world and the challenges that await him there.
It was a good meeting. Little N is a joy, to me and to his team. He is making progress that all of us can see and celebrate. Someday he will be mainstreamed into a general ed classroom. I have reinforcements in the form of his team, and even those dreaded reports, to help me teach him the tools he needs for the days ahead. All of this is true at the same time that my sadness is true.
I was anxious and preoccupied leading up to the meeting. When we first received the notice for reevaluation I was nervous. Little N was thriving in the Special Ed class, what if they wanted to pull him out of it! Then we received his report card. Little N was scoring below average in most areas of the report. What if he never got out of Special Ed? What if he could never hold a job, make friends, offer compassion to someone… the fears and questions took over.
During the meeting, I took notes on all of Little N's challenges. They are painful to me. It's as if Autism gets in his way of being him. But then I also try to be pro-Neurodiversity. I try to acknowledge and accept and advocate that there are many ways of being, perceiving, and expressing oneself in the world. We've got a smattering of typical, acceptable ways to be in society but kids like Little N reveal more of what's possible. Autism doesn't necessarily get in the way of him being him; it's part of him being him and part of what he offers his family, classmates, teachers, future employers, and all the folks that come in contact with him.
I put a good face on it on Facebook. And it was a good meeting. Little N is a joy to work with. Each one of the experts in the room repeated that in one form or another. They enjoy working with him. He's eager, playful, fun, retains what he's learned, makes excellent progress. And... he scores below average on all of their tests.
I brought all of this to my much-loved therapist. "I'm sad," I told her. She murmured understanding. Then she asked me, "How sad do you feel?" I couldn't answer. I need time to sit with myself and just feel all the emotions tangled up in my son's Autism. She could have said, "It's not all about you." But she didn't. Because my feelings about my son's challenges are about me. I'm allowed to feel sad sometimes, even as I get to be encouraging and curious and supportive a lot of the time.
I have some sense of where the sadness comes from. My grief that the perfect, typical boy I thought I had is gone, along with all my unarticulated dreams and expectations for him. My memory of the close relationship between grades and self esteem: A means I'm awesome, D means I'm dumb. What could "below average" possibly mean in that matrix? My fear of the world out there, of cliques and cruelty, where there is very little room for someone different. My pervasive doubt that I can in any way equip him for that world and the challenges that await him there.
It was a good meeting. Little N is a joy, to me and to his team. He is making progress that all of us can see and celebrate. Someday he will be mainstreamed into a general ed classroom. I have reinforcements in the form of his team, and even those dreaded reports, to help me teach him the tools he needs for the days ahead. All of this is true at the same time that my sadness is true.
Labels:
autism spectrum disorder,
difference,
good questions,
grief,
healing,
homelife,
love,
motherhood,
school
Thursday, December 26, 2013
dreams in storage… for 2014
I read somewhere that "excess weight is dreams in storage"
Here are some of the dreams I'm working to realize in the coming year:
- Hosting half-day retreats for busy women.
- This will be a joint venture with a good friend who is a Spiritual Director. We've got lots of ideas! Now to set them into motion.
- Experiencing my emotions in healthier ways.
- As in, not overeating and smoking as a way to deal with how I feel. Maybe journal them - even jotting a couple notes in my day-planner during a work day, taking a walk, going to the spa, talking about my feelings with the much-loved-therapist.
- Practice healthful habits - that also promote weight loss.
- So, eating nutritiously, not overeating, walking, jogging, yoga, tending my body with love, all kinds of good stuff that used to be my own good habits.
- Develop a good divorce and shared parenting with L.
- We will begin drafting a Parenting Plan this evening.
- Resume writing.
- Starting with a regular journalling practice and maybe changing how & how often I write here on the blog.
Maybe not so much the big public dreams of success and recognition but significant to me in terms of living a vibrant, positive, authentic life. And each of these areas have contributed to my weight gain. As I've slipped away from parts of who I am, and the good habits that embody them, I've turned to crummy habits like emotional eating and smoking and avoidance. As I return again to who I am and how I want to express myself, I choose healthy habits to make even daily life a more true expression. And there are the more public dreams, like writing and hosting retreats, where what I believe and how I live will be more visible.
Labels:
choice,
color,
divorce,
good questions,
healing,
homelife,
portrait,
practice,
traditions,
transitions,
winter
Sunday, October 27, 2013
self portrait Saturday: Mommy gets out!
geekalicious, right?
I was just thinking that it's been ages since I've been to a play - and that getting out to artsy stuff was once a regular highlight of my nights. Then our Beloved Miss A invited me to this:
10 Days to Happiness: One Woman's Hilariously Tortured Search for Enlightenment
The play itself was fairly predictable but getting out and doing something different was a real treat. And our Beloved Miss A is always good company.
I've recognized, these days, that I'm angry and jealous that L gets to do what he wants he when he wants now that we're separated. I'm the single mom and he's the renewed bachelor. Which means more of my time is focused on parenting than on myself and my interests. I'm not working out or developing my hobbies or getting out to artsy Seattle because I'm home with Little N. So I arrange my outings for when Little N is with L or the beloved babysitter and I savor the experiences and relationships in the moments that I have.
It's not quantitatively fair. But something qualitative is working for me. I miss my boy when he's off with has dad, even though I simultaneously cherish the hours to clean the apartment, read, sit in front of HULU, catch up on FB. I show up and deeply value the time together with my friends for book group, or a supper date after work, or creating ritual. The constraints on my time and attention is reinforcing the value of these moments of connection. For that much, I can relax, experience some gratitude, and let my jealousy for L's new life fade, even a little bit, as I start to understand and embrace my new life.
I've recognized, these days, that I'm angry and jealous that L gets to do what he wants he when he wants now that we're separated. I'm the single mom and he's the renewed bachelor. Which means more of my time is focused on parenting than on myself and my interests. I'm not working out or developing my hobbies or getting out to artsy Seattle because I'm home with Little N. So I arrange my outings for when Little N is with L or the beloved babysitter and I savor the experiences and relationships in the moments that I have.
It's not quantitatively fair. But something qualitative is working for me. I miss my boy when he's off with has dad, even though I simultaneously cherish the hours to clean the apartment, read, sit in front of HULU, catch up on FB. I show up and deeply value the time together with my friends for book group, or a supper date after work, or creating ritual. The constraints on my time and attention is reinforcing the value of these moments of connection. For that much, I can relax, experience some gratitude, and let my jealousy for L's new life fade, even a little bit, as I start to understand and embrace my new life.
Labels:
choice,
color,
difference,
divorce,
friendship,
good questions,
gratitude,
healing,
homelife,
motherhood,
portrait,
practice,
transitions
Sunday, October 20, 2013
jack-o-lantern
Labels:
color,
fall,
friendship,
gratitude,
healing,
holiday,
homelife,
motherhood,
traditions
Saturday, October 19, 2013
self portrait Saturday: post-spa glow
I love to spa
I feel relaxed and refreshed. I very much enjoyed the good company of Ms. M. I will do this again.
spa treatment
A friend has decided I need a mommy break and is treating me to a visit to Ladywell's. It's a women's-only spa in my neighborhood. I have no idea if I like to "spa" (is that a verb?) but I'm happy for a break and ready to try something different. I hardly know how to just sit still these days. Looking forward to relaxing in good company.
Labels:
choice,
color,
divorce,
friendship,
gratitude,
healing,
homelife,
motherhood,
transitions
Friday, October 11, 2013
witching hour
every workday at 11am I'm jonesing for a cigarette
so today, again, I headed out to my stoop to compose myself over a cup of tea
it didn't work.
between you, me & the butt can, I broke down had 1 cigarette
Which is to say, I'm addicted. It tasted lousy but felt terrific. My blood bubbled and sang within me. The world and my mood brightened. I was ready to take on my job. But this can't be true! Such a bad habit gives such a good response. I can't let this worst of my unhealthful habits resume.
What I'm noticing:
A long time ago, I used to think that my body gave me good information and insights about myself, other people, spirit, my decisions... I had a strong connection to my intuition and experienced that within my body. But addictions of all sorts (including seemingly little things like sugar and nicotine) skew all that good information, twisting it into vibes and impulses that can't be trusted. So here's another good reason to get clean of it all ~ I want to trust my body and the useful information that it can convey to me.
Labels:
choice,
color,
difference,
fall,
good questions,
healing,
office space,
practice,
Whole30
Wednesday, October 09, 2013
Whole30 day9: grrrr
I really, really, really want a cigarette.
I'm frustrated, angry, and bored at my job and I want a break from this place and what we do here. I want an occupation that matches my vocation (& I want some confidence as to what exactly that may be). I want out of a sales environment. I want in to something that engages my whole mind and my heart. In the absence of smoking I want lollipops, M&Ms, gum... Instead I'm grazing on pea pods.
What I'm noticing:
Yup, squelch those unruly thoughts and emotions with food. Because there's no time or space right now to solve practical problems or dream new ways of living. Nose to the grindstone, my time is not my own, let's see some productivity for these hours at the office.
What I'm doing:
I made a fresh cup of tea and headed out to my stoop by the butt can. I gave myself a few moments to think my own thoughts and calm down. One of the smoking clique members joined me and we chatted and laughed a little. Somewhat restored, I came back in to my desk.
What's true:
Is that there are healthy and worse ways to experience emotions and thoughts, even big ones. And I do get to choose what to do once I feel a particular feeling. It's ok to feel it. For me, it's good to feel it, even when it's uncomfortable. And even in a place that feels unsupportive at times I can find my niche and nooks of security to pause for a few minutes and recognize the feelings. Maybe jot them down to be wrangled with later. But I can do this without hurting myself with food that does me only harm not health. Because I want to live healthy both in regards to my feelings and to my food.
Labels:
choice,
depression,
difference,
good questions,
healing,
office space,
portrait,
vocation,
Whole30
Friday, October 04, 2013
Whole30 Friday night munchies
There's no "cheating" or "treats" on Whole30. Ack! What happened to Friday night pizza and beer?!
It's become fresh red raspberries.
Labels:
choice,
color,
difference,
healing,
homelife,
portrait,
transitions,
Whole30
Thursday, October 03, 2013
3 things
zee nectar of zee gods ~ coffee
not awesome with coconut milk but dump a bunch of it in and the coffee is slightly more guzzle-able
happy light
my psychiatrist (whom I love) doesn't anticipate that I'll get depressed this dark season. I'm not as confident about that as she is. already I perceive these dim mornings mocking me. a co-worker reminded me that I do have this Happy Light at my side. I could just switch it on. So I did.
Marlboro gold
lingering in the back end of the bottom drawer of my desk. In case I "need" them. I haven't smoked since Friday. But today they are singing my name. what could be better than sitting on the stoop, a mug of hot coffee, and the first cigarette of the day. not smoking could be better. I'm not smoking.
Labels:
choice,
color,
depression,
fall,
good questions,
healing,
office space,
practice,
transitions,
Whole30
Wednesday, October 02, 2013
Whole30 Day 1 & 2
Here is some of what I ate on Day 1 of my Whole30.
I ate a lot! Apples, almonds, sugar snap peas, a yam, green tea, boiled eggs, steamed asparagus, delicata squash, sautéed kale with pepper, onion, & garlic. More green tea. Melon, banana.
I noticed a couple of things:
1) I was heavy on the fruit. Cuz I am heavy on SWEETS! So I'm glad to have recognized that early in the month and start adding more veggies immediately.
2) I depend on food to manage my emotions - in a not-healthful way. Now all my comfort foods (and addictions - goodbye cigarettes, goodbye gum) are stripped away leaving me alone with how I feel. Sometimes I feel great, so there's that. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed, alone, not-quite-good-enough, sad, grieving, pissed off, bored... and these are the times when having a handy helping of ______________ (insert comfort food) would seem to make a difference. Instead I get to sit with my feelings - through a work day, or doing chores at home, or putting Little N to bed, or in those few hours alone while I have childcare.
What to do with all of these feelings? Write about them. Move them - dance, jog, walk, yoga. Illustrate them - paint, collage, doodle. Talk about them - call or email a friend.
Here I am on Day 2 (today!)
Ooooh, so dramatic! But really it's just that I'm under an umbrella in a classic Seattle grey rainy morning waiting for the bus. And sort of feeling under the weather as well. In fact, I nearly went home "sick."
I felt lousy this morning. Exhausted and achey all over my entire body. As if I'd done some kind of cross-fit power lifting workout the likes of which I have no plans to ever do. I've been sipping on green tea non-stop but it seems to lack the punch of my usual 4-6 (I know, I KNOW) cups of coffee with milk. I broke down and hit up the local food co-op for some unsweetened coconut milk and dumped some into a hot cup of coffee. Not Awesome. But better than black coffee or no coffee at all. I am awake again! I can think again! My body does not ache any more.
Here's what I'm noticing:
1) I am WAY addicted to coffee. I'm not sure what I want to do about that right now. I expect that I'll try to cut back; 4-6 cups does seem excessive, especially since I'm also taking Adderall twice a day which is another stimulant.
2) Moving my body helps everything. Today I walked to and from and appointment just over a mile from where I work. Walking there, with my "sick" aching body was slow and difficult but it also worked out some of the stiffness. The walk back was much smoother and a little quicker pace. So I have some movement goals for this month: Walk to the office from a far bus stop 5 mornings/week (1.2 miles), jog/walk at lunch 5 days a week (2 miles), practice yoga 3 mornings per week (30 minutes).
The first week is supposed to be the hardest. Most exhausting, achey, craving week of the 30 days. If I can keep noticing what's working and what's not along the way, I think I've got a chance at making it the entire month. Up for tonight - more cooking - protein and produce.
Labels:
choice,
color,
fall,
good questions,
grief,
healing,
homelife,
office space,
portrait,
practice,
transitions,
Whole30
Sunday, September 29, 2013
gratitude Sunday: the little pauses
This weekend I'm catching my breath in the overwhelm of single mom-ness.
Little N went to his dad's on Friday so I got a little time to hang out with Miss A - and she introduced me to Netflix streaming and Call The Midwife (love!) (I signed myself up Saturday and started watching immediately). Little N missed me so his dad brought him home Saturday morning. It was a grey downpour day. I managed to get some chores done while kiddo watched Tangled (4 times in a row?) (funny & exciting Every Time!), practiced his writing, and crashed around out on the deck. L came back to get Little N Sunday afternoon for a few hours giving me a little more time for Call The Midwife and some batch cooking for my greatly anticipated Whole30.
I don't expect there's some great relief coming to me. I expect that these little pauses are what I can hope for and rest in and savor when I get them. I do experience these odd waves of emotion in the quiet hours alone. A feeling that says something like, "I shouldn't have to do this alone. I should have a partner in this." This being parenting, at least, and maybe life as a whole. But in these same alone pauses, which I am grateful for, I also know that I'm not alone. Little N is with his dad. I am connected to friends and family near and far who care and are thinking of me and Little N as we make our way through this. It's not the same as a partner. It's not the same as a best friend next door. But it matters and I find myself counting on it. Just as I've come to count on these little pauses.
Little N went to his dad's on Friday so I got a little time to hang out with Miss A - and she introduced me to Netflix streaming and Call The Midwife (love!) (I signed myself up Saturday and started watching immediately). Little N missed me so his dad brought him home Saturday morning. It was a grey downpour day. I managed to get some chores done while kiddo watched Tangled (4 times in a row?) (funny & exciting Every Time!), practiced his writing, and crashed around out on the deck. L came back to get Little N Sunday afternoon for a few hours giving me a little more time for Call The Midwife and some batch cooking for my greatly anticipated Whole30.
I don't expect there's some great relief coming to me. I expect that these little pauses are what I can hope for and rest in and savor when I get them. I do experience these odd waves of emotion in the quiet hours alone. A feeling that says something like, "I shouldn't have to do this alone. I should have a partner in this." This being parenting, at least, and maybe life as a whole. But in these same alone pauses, which I am grateful for, I also know that I'm not alone. Little N is with his dad. I am connected to friends and family near and far who care and are thinking of me and Little N as we make our way through this. It's not the same as a partner. It's not the same as a best friend next door. But it matters and I find myself counting on it. Just as I've come to count on these little pauses.
Labels:
color,
divorce,
friendship,
gratitude,
healing,
homelife,
hope,
love,
motherhood,
transitions,
Whole30
Saturday, September 28, 2013
self portrait Saturday: getting ready
This is the big pre-Whole30 weekend where I shop for fine protein and fresh produce.
And not much more than that.
What I didn't expect, and actually really like, is this goal setting aspect to the program. It expands the program beyond a simple (& tough!) diet to include more positive behaviors (my best habits) in more areas of my life. It also should, maybe, give me places to focus besides on what I'm not eating and to look for positive changes due to what I am eating and choosing to do.
Labels:
choice,
difference,
fall,
healing,
homelife,
portrait,
transitions,
Whole30
Friday, September 27, 2013
1!
It's 11:39am and I have had 1 (ONE!) cigarette today so far.
Goal is to keep it to that. And drink lots of coffee. I am CAFFEINATED.
Kind healthy reformed smoker coworker has recommended that I take up eating sunflower seeds to give my mouth something to do while I quit smoking. Kind of like the chewing gum I'm gnawing right now but without the annihilation of my sense of taste (which the gum seems to affect).
And we are 4 days away from the start of my Whole30.
Which means quitting my beloved coffee, since I require it with milk, & switching to gallons of green tea.
I'm sure that's totally what they intended.
Labels:
choice,
color,
fall,
healing,
office space,
portrait,
transitions,
Whole30
Thursday, September 26, 2013
54 pieces!
Well, I mostly quit smoking.
I had 4 cigarettes yesterday. I came into the office this morning ready to tear into 54 pieces of
cinnamon-y cigarette-resisting chain-chewing goodness.
But then the day really hit me.
I bummed a smoke off of a co-worker. He's a generous man and gave me two.
So that's 2 cigarettes for the entire day. I raced outside for the first one and am zealously guarding the remaining stick of filthy cancer-ridden addiction-appeasing badness.
I only started smoking (this time around) in the summer.
It's been years since I smoked regularly.
But this stuff just seeps into all the little cracks rendered by stress & fatigue & glues you back together.
It's been years since I smoked regularly.
But this stuff just seeps into all the little cracks rendered by stress & fatigue & glues you back together.
Until it doesn't.
Labels:
choice,
color,
fall,
healing,
office space,
portrait,
transitions
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