Crashing

This is my second attempt at today's blog.  The first was somehow lost when whatever server maintains this blog failed to save my work.  Unaware that the message below the text was telling me that the words I was writing weren't being saved, I hit the "publish post" button and ended up on an "error" page.  I am now paying attention to the message below that tells me the draft is being saved at minute to minute intervals.  Small comfort now, when words written this morning are simply lost, and even the flavor of the message is hard to recall.

I do remember it was raining this morning and I was watching the mountains becoming shrouded in an expanse of gray; ghostly images merely hinting of their presence.  Now, though the rain has stopped, the eastern horizon appears as if there were no mountains there at all,  a monochrome blanket of dull sky is draped from the tops of the trees to infinity it seems.  Appearances, as always, don't adequately reflect reality, for indeed the mountains are still there and their reappearance in fairer atmospheres is as assured as tomorrow's sunrise.

An apt metaphor for me then, this meteorologic phenomenon of clouds, rain, the damp expectancy of water meeting root, forging growth.  Sunshine, that long awaited, deliriously delightful shock of extended daylight is almost maddening in its bright insistence that my heart should be full of its life-giving radiance.  Still, something in me grieves; recent deaths, limitation, the uncanny way life sometimes has of nipping away at happiness.  The somber moods seem far more appropriate when the sharp cries of seagulls appear to come not from the birds but from the curtain of gray through which they thread their own ashen bodies.

Crashing, that drop in energy that follows bad news, that slips in on the heels of dull memory seems appropriate to describe not only a technological failure of a computer, but the hard impact of reality against hope, against belief, against all those illusions that shroud the fact of things like mountains and and storm and darkness.  But what is the illusion?  Is it the cloud or the mountain it hides.  Is it both?  Philosophers and physicists will ponder these questions, as will the minds of those who choose to enter the darker spaces of their own psyches, where there is little clue of the "reality" of things.

The French have a wonderful word for that which is not exactly depression, but rather a vague sadness--"ennui."  They have another word for the state it engenders, "malaise."  Perhaps it is my own French ancestry that finds these words resonate with familiarity in my own life.  I sometimes think I would prefer madness or the manic obsession of other mental illness to this state which is difficult to define, much less to "snap out of" as I was often told.

For many, many years I neglected writing because it could so easily induce this state and I don't like it.  I didn't want to end up as so many writers do, escaping the dull trap of inertia with alcohol or drugs or other diversions.  But not writing is only distraction, another form of diversion that perhaps is less destructive than substance abuse, but destructive no less.  For while writing is a certain form of light torture it is as freeing as soaring above the knotted clouds, it is driving through the rain of life's uncertainty and unfairness and at least giving it words with which to dress it in finer attire.  It is flying through webs of feeling and perception to unmask the vague uneasiness, even brutal suffering, and trying, always trying to speak more clearly that which is sometimes unspeakable.  And as we know with flying, there is always the risk of crashing.

New Beginnings

The first day of the month has always been like a mini New Year's Day to  me. You know, the resolutions, the promises to eat better, exercise, clean up my act, etc.  Life, on the beginning of any given month seems to have bright possibilities, hope for something better and at least a little bit of excitement that I could actually fulfill positive changes in my life.  The end of the month, however, often comes with the disappointment of failing to do so, and a little less resolve for the next day which is of course the start of something new again.

This morning dawned cloudy and raining.  I mistook 7am, which in recent days had been blazing with the bright Alaskan sun, as about 4am and almost went back to sleep.  The mountains to the east have gradually become shrouded in clouds, their peaks a mere ghost image against a white sky.  Typical of Alaskan "summers" this weather is not altogether unwelcome.  The truth is, we need rain, we usually do this time of year.  Our early springs are dry and dusty and the long, sunny days make us almost delirious.  I would suspect that a profound change in our weather which gave us more sunny summer days than rainy ones would perhaps be frightening with the possibility that global warming was preceding at a reckless pace.  Still, I yearn for more sun, as do most Alaskans who live through the anemic light of winter.

Trying to motivate myself to exercise today would have been easier if a steady, light rain was not falling; and as yet, I still have to summon the will and resolve to get on the treadmill.  (I am at least in my workout clothes)  A walk in the rain might be nice you would think, but I live in an industrial area with 18-wheelers passing by my home regularly and all manner of equipment lumbering down the nearby roads.  The drab warehouses offer little contrast to the sky and against this dull backdrop the prospect of a morning walk loses it's appeal.  Evenings are quieter, traffic minimal as commerce and industry slow with the dictates of work day schedules.

But it is a new month and one that is our greatest season of light, that in itself should be celebrated.  We will see the hours of daylight peak this month, but also begin to diminish in its waning days.  June is bittersweet with the relentless cycle of universe turning beginnings and endings.

Picture Perfect

Twice in the last few days I have posted a photograph of my breakfast on facebook.  (I know, get a life, right?) It has occurred to me that it is important to not only eat food that is good for me, but also looks good.  I tend to have a love/hate relationship with food, vacillating between viewing eating as a tedious necessity and a overly tempting diversion.  Food is always more than food, even to people who do not struggle with weight issues.  For someone who tends toward the simple in most things, preparing food is not high on my list of favorite activities.  I am inclined to grab what is convenient, requires little preparation (because it is the cleaning up I loathe) and tastes good--which of course is very subjective.

Because I am very much a "visual" person, food has to look good to me, and my best meals are ones that have a variety of color, texture and a visual richness, though creating such sensuous delights is a challenge for me.  I am still awaiting the day when all our nutrients for daily living could be available in one convenient pill (remember the futurists of the 60's predicted this!)  Despite the proliferation of nutritional supplements, science still hasn't produced such a thing.  The genius lady who has a column in Parade magazine was once asked if there was one perfect food for humans.  Her reply: dog food, as it is appropriate for an omnivore mammal, which is what we are.  Though we hear stories of poor people eating dog food (I've never actually known anyone to do this) I seriously doubt that anyone could consistently eat it--even dogs aren't particularly fond of doing that, I suppose.

Photographing my food, however weird that may seem, has actually helped me become aware of what exactly I am eating, and also reinforces to me that most of the time, I eat rather healthfully.  Awareness for me is really the crux of what this blog is all about.  It is an amazing thing to think that there is enough variety in the world that a person might conceivably never eat the same thing twice--at least not the same thing prepared the same way.  And while variety may be the spice of life, it is also true that we tend to eat our favorites over and over again (for better or worse.)  I read in the paper today about a man who just ate his 25,000th Big Mac.  I wonder if there is any food that I have eaten that many times!

I can think of any number of foods that look disgusting to me and I won't eat--mushrooms and oysters come to mind.  The foods I like most; however, are those that are colorful and photogenic--fruits!  There is a reason why so many still life paintings are of fruit--they are a delight for the senses.  Photographing my meals has also made me appreciate the gift that food is--not just as means to sustain biological life, but as a means of sustaining spiritual life as well.  Gratitude to the One who created and sustains all life should be part of every act of consuming food, or why else do we say grace?

A certain mindfulness should accompany each food preparation and eating opportunity.  Indeed it is when we mindlessly consume something that we are often unaware of the amount, the flavor, and exactly why we are doing so. Literally focusing on food through the lens of a camera creates an opportunity to become aware, and awareness begets mindfulness, and mindfulness will lead to balance in all things, not just eating.

Simply Dance

Reading the check-ins from a Catholic on-line weight paying attention group I belong to has made me realize how consistently we fall into a trap of giving up too early.  We strive for perfection, our best, and yet we seem to continually fail--or so we perceive it to be.  What's profound is how wonderful, beautiful people with complicated lives and attention to those they love are sidelined by eating too much chocolate, by failing to exercise, by not keeping track.  I recently finished reading "The Happiness Project," by Gretchen Rubin.  I was hoping to be inspired by it, and certainly I was.  I also seem to be somewhat shamed as this woman's attentiveness to the precepts (as they have become for me) that discipline, focus and sacrfice have rendered a best seller, a #1 bestseller.

I celebrate this woman's success and her timeliness in a market that hungers for something like this.  What I think we hunger for is completion, a sense that we are doing our best. What we fail to keep in mind when we act to improve ourselves is that we can only strive for better.  Best is an illusion, it is a future eventuality I hope, but it is not the "better" of now.  The "better" is achievable, best is not.  Yes, we have "personal bests" and records, but that's not the point.  This is a precept of this journey the author takes.

I don't hope to imitate Rubin.  I do not need to wonder if I am happy.  But reading this book helped me realize I could be moreso, because it is a choice, a choice that perhaps takes discipline, focus and sacrfice.  Still, discerning how that might apply to the point of this blog, I realize that simple "awareness" is not going to help me realize my vision--for if I cannot see a goal as more of a vision, I will lose my passion for it.  And this is precisely the point where I am prone to give in, to give up, to say that I can't commit to profound revelations about this weight loss thing I am reluctant to call a weight loss thing.  I am struggling not to draw attention to the thing I do not want to draw attention to.  Then what doI do?

Simply, do better.  Remember Simple, the S of S.T.R.E.N.G.T.H

Focus on something else, break my own rule and make a rule, or precept, for me. So what is simple and what is doable is to put on workout clothes the first thing in the morning, even if I go back to bed and sleep.  My intention this morning was to get on the treadmill.  But I decided to clean the kitchen first--at least create a more positive environment for when I have to eat again., but I didn't get far.  I decided I needed to listen to Gino Vannelli's "Jehovah and All That Jazz" (which might possibly be my all-time favorite song--at least until no) and I ended up dancing to it three times--and I think jazz music can be difficult to dance to--especially alone)  I needed the healing and abandon I find in this song, its holy irreverance.  I needed the vision of myself dancing, not the one I would dare view in something as flat and one-dimensional as a mirror.  That is not vision, it's not even adquate image. No, no, just the joy that teases movement when the piano rift drifts into the saxophone wail.  Listen, if you have ears.  What a gift to hear the fullness of sound, to clarify a vision it evokes.

I may never get on the treadmill today, and it looks less and less likely, but I've got a couple hours to keep cleaning...and dancing!  I am less inclined to simply give up, to be overwhelmed by household tasks and even a desire to write.  Workout clothes for me are not particularly flattering but they get the job done.  Scant because I get hot when I move, and when I get cool it reminds me, I have to move, if only to cycle the laundry, or to generate enough body heat that when I stand in the garage to fold it I will be grateful for the coolness of the space. 

While dancing, I thought about how my core muscles just needed to be treated better--and blessed with new strength.  And I have long meditated on the pregnant metaphor of core. (it's where the seeds are)  So, of course I made an anagram of C.O.R.E--and this is my copyright too--Cooperate Organically, Respond Enthusiastically?  Putting on workout gear has been an important reminder that I need to to respond enthusiastically, today I chose to dance--with passion, and the gratitude that no one was watching.

The Gift of Water

Thursday, April 28, 2011

The Gift of Water

In the previous 46 days leading up to Easter--more commonly known as Lent--I elected to drink nothing but water.  That is to say I DRANK nothing but water--I ate normally.  This was not exactly a way to improve my health, though I am sure skipping coffee, alcoholic beverages, sugar free sodas, etc. probably had a net positive effect on my health.  (I won't argue that there aren't health benefits to coffee and wine--they have been documented.)  My motivation was something much simpler and profound.

For years I have followed the music career of Christian rock/alternative band "Jars of Clay."  I was privileged and delighted to see them live and in person at the Alaska State Fair a few years ago.  It was there I learned of "Blood/Water Mission"  http://www.bloodwatermission.com/.  Basically it is a grass roots organization that helps some of the poorest villages in Africa provide clean drinking water in an effort to stem the tide of AIDS, as well as improve the health of the people.  Mostly they dig wells, but also provide small water pumps, and I imagine other services.  A startling fact that $1.00 will provide clean water for an African for one year inspired me to do presentations to the kids at my church about how a very small thing can make a very big difference in at least some parts of the world.

Last year my daughter and I gave up every beverage but water for two weeks--we drank nothing but TAP water.  (Bottled water takes a terrible toll on the environment.)  The money we saved from not purchasing other beverages we sent to the organization, which I will do with the money saved this year.  During the course of the 46 days of the "Forty Days of Water" fast this year I chose not to drink other beverages on the Sundays of Lent, which is technically allowed, since Sundays are not technically Lent.  It just seemed easier not to drink them but not because I am either righteous or stoic.  Honestly, it wasn't that difficult, though there were countless opportunities to turn down offers for other beverages, and most of the people around me simply forgot I was doing this.

While the initial intent was to raise money for Blood/Water Mission, what resulted for me was a keener awareness and appreciation for the gift of water, and how blessed we are in the United States to have clean, safe water literally at our fingertips when we turn on our kitchen or bathroom taps.  1 in 7 people throughout the world do not have this luxury.  In Alaska there seems to be an abundance of water as the state sports over a million lakes, thousands of glaciers, and a reliable snowpack that feeds countless mountain streams.  Anchorage's water has often won awards for the best tasting water in the country.

Interestingly enough, because I wasn't drinking any other beverages, I sometimes became dehydrated and failing to heed the sage advice to consume 8 glasses of water daily, would result in headaches which would most often be remedied by simply turning on the faucet.  It is something we take for granted, and so, by extension, we tend to waste this resource which will become more precious as the earth warms and population increases.  Wars for oil may one day become wars for water--a truly frightening thought.

In the recent past I usually took a daily shower.  Now, I try to take one every other day.  On cold Alaskan mornings I would often stay in the shower to warm and wake myself up.  Now, I usually play a short song on an ipod dock in my bathroom and try to finish before the song ends--which keeps the shower to about three minutes.  I have short hair so rinsing out shampoos and conditioners isn't much of a problem.  I also live in a small industrial type warehouse with excellent water pressure. The biggest use of water however is not baths or showers, but flush toilets.  A couple years ago our leaking toilet had to be replaced and we chose a low flow type which uses significantly less water.  While it has been difficult to implement the rule "if it's yellow, let it mellow; if it's brown, flush it down", doing so even once in awhile can add up to significant water savings (and money saving as well!)  Another benefit of drinking lots of water--besides the obvious health benefits is that urine, being less concentrated, hardly colors the toilet bowl water at all, making it easier to allow it to "mellow."

So, will conserving water in a water abundant state like Alaska make any real difference in the world? I have to believe it will.  I learned from my husband  that we actually sell water to India, though I never found out in what form.  At one time our former governor Wally Hickel proposed floating large chunks of glaciers to California to provide that state with more water, though I don't think we are currently floating glaciers to India.  The day may come when we actually do so, but if the glaciers continue to melt, who knows.

As a person who has tried to lose weight in the past I am finding that simply not buying food I will not consume (despite my best intentions), such as large Costco sized quantities of fresh vegetables, saves me both money and the shame of throwing them away when they go uneaten.  Having a large freezer has been an excuse to hoard excess food, which too often goes to waste because of freezer burn or the unappetizing prospect of having to eat large quantities of one food because buying 10 boxes or bags of it on a "clearance price" was such a deal.  My goal is to eliminate the use of my freezer, or at least keep it unused and unplugged unless an abundant harvest at dipnetting time yields pounds and pounds of fresh salmon.

Becoming water aware during the "Forty Days of Water" campaign has increased my awareness of the overabundance of many things in my life--a closet crammed with excess clothing, a sewing trailer bulging with fabric, craft items, things too numerous to count or even acknowledge.  And so, as part of my S.T.R.E.N.G.T.H initiatives I have begun a slow and steady process to lessen not just my body clutter, but the clutter all around me.  Sometimes I dream of having the "Clean House" folks descend on my place and help me achieve this task in a week or so.  I know that isn't going to happen, but each day I strive to "lighten my load."  Today I am taking a few bags of gently used clothing to a resale shop and a few more to a thrift store.

And this all started with a simple glass of water.....

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Screw Guilt

It has been incredibly freeing to wake up in the morning and not have the anxiety of wondering how I am going to do, or not do, on my diet.  For years and years, I would wake up with a half-hearted prayer that I would eat sensibly, exercise, and stop snacking.  I generally went to bed at night berating myself for failing to do any of those things.  Once in a great while I was actually able to succeed with such goals but those days were rare.  While I may not have overeaten, I didn't often eat healthfully.

Today I had two meals at restaurants.  The first was at a burger place (Kriner's) and I ordered a cheeseburger with onion rings.  I ate exactly half of the burger because it is large and generally half is just about the right amount for me.  I left a few onion rings on the plate.  I was with my fifteen year old daughter who ordered the same burger with fries, and ate almost all of it.  She then went home and went to bed for a few hours.  By 6:00 I was just beginning to get hungry again and it was my oldest daughter's birthday.  She wanted a halibut sandwich from Captain Chuck's, which also happens to have the best onion rings in Anchorage.  So, I ate exactly one half of that sandwich, a few of the fries that came with it, and of course, those awesome onion rings.  I wasn't expecting to go out to dinner, as I was scheduled to lector at Holy Thursday mass, but I called the other lector and asked if she could do my part as it wasn't really necessary to have two lectors.

We came home and had a banana cream pie from Peggy's--a request for the birthday girl.  I ate a small piece and didn't eat the parts I don't like, the crust and most of the whipped cream.  I am full, satisfied, and not feeling a lick of guilt.  I am still drinking only water as part of my Lenten sacrifices and my original plan was to break my fast on Holy Thursday, but as I missed mass, I decided to wait until Easter Vigil.  I have even given up drinking Communion wine, and it is the thing with which I will break my fast.  This is important to me, and two more days of water will not be much of a sacrifice as tomorrow is Good Friday and we will be fasting (not eating between meals) anyway.  Saturday night is the Vigil, and I am looking forward to it.

I haven't been on the scale all week.  I generally weigh myself on Wednesday as I am part of an on-line weight loss group, but the scale is gathering dust, and I am thrilled about that. 

At this point I don't care if I lose any weight or not.  I just feel a little more sane because I am not beating myself up about every little bite of the "wrong food" that goes into my mouth.   All food is sacred, all is a gift of our Creator.  My abuse of it is nothing more than sin, and sin is "missing the mark."  I have been wondering--and this will sound silly--if Jesus ever had "food issues."  The very thought seems absurd, and the fact that it does is very telling.  I will share more of my musings on this at another time.  For now, it feels so wonderful just to feel peace abuot eating.  It's been a long time since that was so.

The Distraction of Busyness

One way to keep myself from overindulging in food is to keep busy.  Today, besides the general housework that is required daily, I chipped away at the excess clothes in my very large closet.  I decided to get my skirts out where I could see them as they are hidden behind other clothes.  I was amazed by how many I had, so I got rid of about half of them.  I kept wondering, what was I thinking when I bought these, these long, flowing, shapeless things, some of which were too small or too ugly to consider wearing. 

I imagine I am like a lot of women who have clothing ranging from the size they were several years ago, (or back in high school or college) to the size they are now.  I have a bad habit of buying clothes thinking I will lose weight and fit into them one day.  Even if I lost all the weight I have put on since those college days I still don't think I would wear much of what I thought I would "shrink" into.

It was hard to get started and even harder to look at the price tags still attached to several of them thinking how I could have put that money to better use.  So, for the time being, I am not buying any new clothes.  Frankly I don't need any, and when I have lost a few to several pounds I still have more than enough clothing in smaller sizes. 

I realize that the sheer volume of what I own necessitates a longer process than a couple of hours.  It will take a concerted, focused effort to get the closet to a manageable state, but today was just another of the first steps.  Last week I weeded out the dresses that I won't wear.  It feels good to get them out and to find things I thought were lost, things I do want to wear and can wear now.  Tomorrow I am off to the second hand consignment store to see if I can salvage a few dollars from the hundreds that I originally spent.  Of course some of the things will just go to a church run store because the consignment shops are a little pickier than "Goodwill" 

There have been books written about the clutter in our homes being related to the "clutter" on our bodies.  I am a firm believer that there is some kind of correlation, and if thinning out a closet leads to a thinning of my body, then I am all for it.