Sometimes when I try

Danger, danger, danger! I have an upcoming event, you know an event. Something I'd really like to go to looking nice, looking my best. You know what that means. Looking.....thin. I'm trying so hard not to let it spin out into the mushroom cloud of compulsive not-eating. Sometimes when I try hard though it's the worst.

My husband has been asked to be on a panel of adult adoptees for a discussion following the movie "Adopted". He really is a good person to sit on a panel. He's intelligent, articulate, a powerful mid-life man that people (read white adoptive parents) may listen to more than other folks who may be on the panel. But his story isn't pretty. Our story isn't pretty. It's horribly painful. And the scary thing is that there are parts of the prep for this panel that sound just like the beginning of the long slide to divorce mediation and separation from five years ago. I'm trying to trust and hold love and light in my heart and hands. But oh ouch. And scary.

So, if this event goes off, and I get to go and sit in the audience and listen to my husband try to be careful and kind in talking about this painful issue in his life; I hope that I can focus on supporting him and loving him and holding myself in care, too. But it might be a tough couple of weeks as we bounce along facing these things again, facing the pain of the past, trying to find a way forward in forgiveness and love. And the food might be tough.

I started my "Morning Pages", writing three pages of stream of consciousness stuff. We'll see how it goes. So far so good. The other thing that "The Writing Diet" asks so far is a daily food journal. We'll see how that goes, I am not sure I want to focus on food, but for now it might be good to do. Or maybe I'll have to write down everything I eat for the rest of my life--a years long history of bananas and yogurt topped with granola. That's so exciting, like glue drying. And I still can't find a good yoga class, but I started running again. Yes, my back hurts a little more but it hurts if I don't run, too. So I might as well run a little.

So I guess the answer for now is to hold on and try to keep a balance between the very busy days and the fear. And to try to live into the love and the light. And to keep cheese and tortilla chips and white pasta in check. Still so much better than the days of drive thru and ice cream. Life is this funny long process, and I guess we just never do get it just right. Just right enough is all I'm hoping for.