Forgiveness February.....final week!

It's been a good month. I'm not two dress sizes skinnier, but who the hell cares? I've learned so very much about myself this month. And I feel so much better. I feel so much more like myself. I finished the Geneen Roth "When Food is Love" book, and it's just helped me see things about food and life and myself so much more clearly.

Then I went to a workshop, and watched one of the women that I really adore in the world tell the story of her life and her professional journey. I got to sit by her at dinner. I got to tell her that I love the way she just radiates a calm loving energy. And she told me her secret.

It's "the work". And the book was already on my shelf. Hot dog, I'm on it. Here's what I want to learn next. Already things are just settling in a bit. I'm not as scattered, frantic, worried or stressed. I'm just relaxing into it. Stepping into my real life, the one that's been here all along. It's a pretty good life.

The food is still going well. I have two new things I'm loving. One is Cookus Interruptus, a great video blog created by a local professor at Bastyr University where food is medicine--this is no dry cooking show, it's gut busting hilarious. I'm using recipes and learning things about food and cooking.

The second new thing is NEW PLATES! Not new new, Goodwill new. They're a little smaller than regular dinner plates, so small portions seem like a monster meal. Oh I am so easy to trick.


I love them. Aren't they cute?

We're on a new plan here at our house called "downright absolute panic about the economy and our finances". Jobs are not a sure thing, and as much as I don't think I'm going to lose my itty bitty salary job, I'm not at all sure about my husband's job. So we're trying to squeeze all the extras out of our life. Luckily we've been flat broke before, so we know how to do this. Healthy food is cheap food and the Y isn't on the hit list yet, so far so good.

Wish I observed giving something up for lent, I would kind of like to practice that. Maybe Mucho Minimizing March? We'll see...

All Alone, ha!

I am so excited to go stay alone in a hotel for two whole nights. Funny, I love my family, I love my husband. It's good here in my home, and it hasn't always been so I really get how lucky I am right now.

But alone! In a hotel room!

I'm headed to our big local area meeting, all of Idaho, Alaska, Oregon and Washington meet up and have colleague time, work time, enrichment. I didn't find a roommate because my son had planned to come with me. But he's missed too much school from being sick and traveling for his big volunteer job. So, I'm on my own.

Last summer I stayed alone some of the week I was in Ft Lauderdale. There is nothing like focus to be able to take care of myself. When no one else is in the room it's much easier to get up at 6:30 and do a good half hour of yoga. And I'm bringing good food to eat in my room in the little hot pot. My budget is really gone for this trip, so I have to be cheap, but wow! Good food! Peace! Quiet!

Not that I don't like rooming with people I love. My friend from Rhode Island and I had the very best time rooming together for a few days in Albuquerque this fall. That was heavenly, too. But in a different way. Good, fun, fellowship and friendship.

But ahhh... alone. Sigh, I simply cannot wait.

(note to self: may wish to arrange for more time alone in real life without hefty hotel bills....)

Morning Glories--Open

It was a tough night. I am almost done with the book I've been reading "When Food is Love" by Geneen Roth.

And the little skin between the pain that is so well cushioned by bread and my heart was getting raw and rough. I know I said I could handle the pain, it's like labor. Release and let go and it won't hurt so much anymore. Name it. Say "this is fear" "this is sadness" "this is loneliness" "this hurts and I'll be OK".

But ow!

I wanted the sticky buns at rehearsal this morning. Oh did I want them. And peanut butter toast, aka; crack. Want, need, oh you know deserve.

So I didn't. I held on to my heart. I asked my heart "so what's up, are you hungry? for food?"

My heart kicked the dirt, hung her head and said. "No"

So I ate an apple, and two clementines. When I came home I made lots of vegetables and tofu because that's what we do when we take care of someone. We feed them food that they love, we cook it with praise for them, we choose fresh spinach and crispy peppers, we squeeze limes, we sit down and eat with the good chopsticks. I packed up the left overs, no there was not enough for a meal, but I packed them up anyway.

I held the image of an opening morning glory in my mind, and pictured it opening above my heart.

Opening. And no, it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. And yes, it is good.

It's been so long since I've seen the ocean

Well, if you count the sound, I saw it last night I guess, soaring over Elliot Bay on the West Seattle Bridge on my way to a board meeting. It's my favorite line from the Counting Crows song "Long December". Except for the line "If you think that I could be forgiven, wish you would"

Good line for Forgiveness February.

Two big things wiggled their way into my heart and up to my awareness last night. One was this Maya Angelou quote

"I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision."


and one was from a narrative in the "When Food is Love" book. It was the story of a woman who was over 400 pounds and saw Geneen Roth on Donahue (!) and knew that there must be a better way. She said something about being lost from her homeland of people who understood her language (the language of disordered eating) and she found her way back to health. Or to health for the first time in her life. Yes, she said, it was hard when you let the pain come instead of pushing it down with food, but if you could open instead of clench, it didn't hurt so much and it passed easier.

I can do this. It's like giving birth. If you can open during the contractions, not clench, not brace yourself, but open it's easier and it works better, too I think.

Peter's birth was a simply beautiful birth. I wish for every woman to give birth like this; quiet, music, strong contractions that feel like the ocean, and a deep connection with the earth. As I labored in that room of love and joy I visualized the morning glories that I'd planted along my garden fence opening to the sun.

I still have seeds from those plants.

I can open to this, too.

Keep Spinnin' Round

I remember when my middle son was learning to roll over. He'd wake up in the middle of the night and roll over, then roll back, roll over then roll back, roll over then roll back. Then he'd plop his head mindfully back down and go right back to sleep.

This is how he's always been when he's learning something new. He does it over and over and over. Sometimes he still looses sleep over it. Luckily our days of a family bed are long since passed since he's taller than I am now, so his lost sleep is no longer mine.

But the other night I was the one awake in the middle of the night rolling over and over. And over.

I had been sound asleep for a few hours, it was the dark night and I could tell it was not going to be a quick turn. I was nattering on something big. So after about an hour I finally just got up and ran a steamy bath. And I picked up my book. I've been reading Geneen Roth's old book "When Food is Love" in little tiny bits. Sometimes literally a paragraph at a time. This night I soaked in the tub until I was totally sckrunkled-up and wrinkly and read almost the entire book.

It's hard to explain what happened next. But I felt like that baby who had practiced enough and was finally going to go plop my head down and go back to sleep. Reading the book is amazing. She sees inside my head and even more than that, she understands what's going on in there way better than I do! It's a big web of childhood, and acceptance, and love and care and food and trying, trying, trying to do it all just right. At one point in the book she tells the story of deciding to stop dieting, to just take care of herself and give herself what she wants until it becomes what she needs because she's taking care of herself. So she goes to her Wednesday night Weight Watchers meeting to tell the leader her plan. And the leader tells her that the ONLY way to fight a weight problem is to watch everything you put in your mouth for the rest of your life. I laughed out loud.

That's just the thing. That leaves it a weight problem. And you have it forever. And you fight it forever. But I know that there has to be another way.

I think I can see it. Forgiveness February is good.

There has got to be another way.

Falling Apart

Today I'm falling apart, but it a very good way. I've been reading Geneen Roth's "When Food is Love" little bit by little bit. This morning I was reading about how compulsive eaters (in control or not) often have this feeling that we don't deserve ....whatever, fill in the blank. The larger cookie, to go on vacation where we want to, to have the things all humans need and deserve. We have soaked in the feeling that to be good enough we have to heroically give everything we can. Then we just might cut it. That's my take on it anyhow. And of course we all know in a head way; no one else can ever fill that "good enough" pit of despair. It is for us to fill ourselves. My heart and soul is still trying to catch up with my head.

Sitting with this little bit this morning I remembered a lecture by my 4th grade teacher. She was frustrated with the class, and giving one of those lectures I hear myself give some times, not totally well thought out but clearly from a place of true emotion. I vividly remember her talking about how we all thought that we had to look out for number one. I had no idea what she was talking about. What did that mean? As I tried to fit what she was saying into some semblance of meaning it dawned on me. Other kids thought about their own needs and wishes and desires FIRST. They didn't think about what would be the best for the popular girls or the powerful boys or the overwhelmed teacher. They thought about what they wanted.

I was shocked. I remember feeling dizzy. How could this be? It was not at all a part of how I operated.

And so it makes sense that the one way I could sometimes feed myself, and take care of myself was to literally feed myself. To fill myself up. To secretly give to me.

It helps to know. Helps to get past just the blame and compulsion and obsession and the pounds and points and sizes.

Then I went to Geneen's blog and read this post about her cat's death.

Oh dear. I miss my sweet old Emmadog. What a love. But the love is still here. There is so much good in this world. And a good dog with big love leaves a big hole. It's worth it. But it's so hard just now.

Then, I have learned, anything worth doing is sometimes hard to do.

February=Forgiveness

I've been reading Geneen Roth's book "When Food is Love" and for the last few days I can only read just barely a paragraph at a time. They all seem to be bringing everything awful just right to the surface.

The good Scandinavian in me says "push it down, don't look! Here, have some lefse and let's do something else!"

But I am looking. Granted, only a sneak peek at a time, but I'm looking for little bits of time so that I can see. You know, actually see what's coming up.

And what I'm seeing is that it's time to let some of this go. I've not had a particularly awful life, not at all. Things have been pretty OK. But I am a little orchid of a person in some ways; I am outstandingly, overwhelmingly, heroically sensitive about everything. Princess and the Pea? Oh that's me. And I'm really amazingly good at holding a grudge. If there were grudge Olympics, I'd win a gold medal. And the silver and bronze, too.

So here I am sensitive, grudge holding person who uses food as a weapon. Of course I wail on myself the most. There are concentric circles of blame and grudge. A bulls eye with me in the center. Should have had more education when I was younger? Oh stupid me. Could really have done a better job managing finances for the last 15 years--yup, I am awful at managing money. Should have, could have, why don't, come ON. It just goes from there, my husband, family out further and further until there is even Jimmy Carter, come on he really should have been a better president.

This brings us to Forgiveness February. All month I am going to forgive everyone. Starting with me. Loving forgiveness. My dear husband who we all know is the most amazing man on the planet, and if you don't, well trust me, I do know it. And my dear mother who was a fantastic mother and still inspires me. Everything bad that I think has happened to me is nothing, it's over. It's done. I did the best I could and so did everyone else. And even Jimmy Carter. Him, too.

Forgiveness February. Bring it on. I'm gonna clear all the log jams so the love can just flow down like water.