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December 6th, 2011 Days one and two of my nutrition reset went well, so I was ready to wake up this morning and rock day three. First, I woke up at 7 am – half hour late, but that was okay. I only need the protein shake and it’s in plenty of time to have it two hours before yoga. I go to the frig and uh-oh – no berries. I forgot I finished them yesterday. I refused to mess this ten day thing up by eating something else, so I went to the store. Got back by 8 and now it was too late to eat and go to yoga. I know. I’ll go at night.
I went about my busy day, even water colored for two hours in the afternoon. By 5 pm I was flip flopping. Maybe I was too tired to go to yoga at 6. Then I thought of what I preach to everyone. You go even if your tired or not well. You need it more at these times. I got out of the chair, got ready, and was out the door by 5:30.
When I got into the warm room, the lights were dim and I laid down and closed my eyes. This felt good. Maybe I’ll do nighttime yoga tomorrow. Maybe the rest of the week. I was having an amazing class and really thinking I should switch to nights. Then during class the teacher says, “One day you come in here and you’re a rockstar. So now you try to recreate it for the next day. You wear the same clothes, take the same class, get here the same time, freeze your water the same way, take the same spot in the room – it’s not gonna happen. Everyday is different. You come with no expectations. Our bodies are different everyday.”
The class went really well and I felt amazing afterward. Not tired. All relaxed in mind and body. I couldn’t wait to get home to shower and relax. As tempting as it is to decide to switch to night yoga, I need to remember tomorrow is another day. Completely different from today. The right thing to do is wait to see how tomorrow goes and decide then. Take it day by day.
I still have some impulsivity hidden in my dark corners to sweep out. One day at a time. Take it slow. Wait and see, no expectations, both in and out of the yoga studio.
And so, as another day goes by, the best part of nighttime yoga was the light show all the way home on 6A….and I have written.
December 5th, 2011 Today a friend of mine shared a short story with me. She thought I would appreciate it, and she was right. This past year I have had my troubles with moving too fast and pushing too hard, and while most of that is behind me, I still need a gentle reminder, even though things are improving in my life, to go slow and let God lead. Give others the time they need to cross their bridges. Sometimes in my exuberance, the ego is the first to push itself back into focus. It’s gentle reminders, like this story, that remind me to be cautious. There are still remnants of behaviors that must be cleared out of my dark corners. I have not crossed the finish line yet. My journey is in it’s last lap. There are still 4 weeks left to 2011 and I’m thankful for friends that give me stories like this to keep me focused as I shed these lingering dust bunnies. After I read it, I read my morning meditation and the photo below is a piece of that. There are no coincidences.
Enjoy it and take what you need from it to flesh out your own journey. Here it is…
The Pickle Jar…
The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on
the floor beside the dresser in my parents’ bedroom.
When he got ready for bed, Dad would empty
his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.
As a small boy, I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made as they were dropped into the jar.
They landed with a merry jingle when the jar was almost empty. Then the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar was filled. Dad would sit at the kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank.
Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production.
Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were
placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck.
Each and every time, as we drove to the bank, Dad would
look at me hopefully. ‘Those coins are going to keep you
out of the textile mill, son. You’re going to do better than
me. This old mill town’s not going to hold you back.’
Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled
coins across the counter at the bank toward the cashier,
he would grin proudly. ‘These are for my son’s college
fund. He’ll never work at the mill all his life like me.’
We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping
for an ice cream cone. I always got chocolate. Dad
always got vanilla. When the clerk at the ice cream
parlor handed Dad his change, he would show me the
few coins nestled in his palm. ‘When we get home,
we’ll start filling the jar again.’ He always let me drop
the first coins into the empty jar. As they rattled around
with a brief, happy jingle, we grinned at each other.
‘You’ll get to college on pennies, nickels, dimes and
quarters,’ he said. ‘But you’ll get there; I’ll see to that.’No matter how rough things got at home, Dad continued
to doggedly drop his coins into the jar. Even the summer
when Dad got laid off from the mill,and Mama had to
serve dried beans several times a week, not a single
dime was taken from the jar.
To the contrary, as Dad looked across the table at me,
pouring catsup over my beans to make them more
palatable, he became more determined than ever to
make a way out for me ‘When you finish college, Son,’
he told me, his eyes glistening, ‘You’ll never have to
eat beans again – unless you want to.’
The years passed, and I finished college and took a
job in another town. Once, while visiting my parents,
I used the phone in their bedroom, and noticed that
the pickle jar was gone. It had served its purpose
and had been removed.
A lump rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside
the dresser where the jar had always stood. My dad
was a man of few words: he never lectured me on the
values of determination, perseverance, and faith. The
pickle jar had taught me all these virtues far more
eloquently than the most flowery of words could have
done. When I married, I told my wife Susan about the
significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in my
life as a boy In my mind, it defined, more than
anything else, how much my dad had loved me.
The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born,
we spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom
and Dad sat next to each other on the sofa, taking turns
cuddling their first grandchild. Jessica began to whimper
softly, and Susan took her from Dad’s arms. ‘She probably
needs to be changed,’ she said, carrying the baby into my
parents’ bedroom to diaper her. When Susan came back
into the living room, there was a strange mist in her eyes.
She handed Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand
and leading me into the room. ‘Look,’ she said softly, her
eyes directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser.
To my amazement, there, as if it had never been removed,
stood the old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with
coins. I walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my
pocket, and pulled out a fistful of coins. With a gamut of
emotions choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. I
looked up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had slipped
quietly into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was
feeling the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak.
The best and most beautiful things cannot be seen or heard or touched – they must be felt with the heart ~ Helen Keller
And so, as another day goes by, it’s the small, consistent things we do over time that make the most difference, and …I have written.
December 4th, 2011 Today I discovered something very very cool. Dragon dictation is an app on the iPhone . I’m trying it today in this blog for the first time. It’s understanding everything I say perfectly. It’s punctuating sentences perfectly . I just find it hard to be able to speak my thoughts out loud rather than write them. I feel like I’m suddenly outside of my head. This is an awesome communication device, especially for the arthritis in my thumb. Thumbs weren’t meant to be bent over keyboards on phones. The pain in my right thumb grew increasingly worse over this past year. I got a stylus and have been using that for a couple of weeks and while that has been a little cumbersome, I quickly learned to use it and it really did help alleviate the pain in my right thumb. But this Dragon speaking software is amazing. All I have to do is talk. It understands me and I can cut and paste and a keyboard pops up when I need it.
The only problem is speaking out loud. It’s really strange to try to organize my thoughts sitting here in my living room, staring at the wall and talking. Somehow writing with my hand helps me feel that I’m inside my head and “connected”. Speaking out loud keeps me outside my head and things don’t feel as organized as well as they do when I’m using my hand to write. But I see this as a positive thing. It’s been said that we should keep our brains functioning and stretching and growing in different ways all the time, so I’m definitely going to keep using the dragon software. What a fun way to keep from going brain dead!
Who would’ve thought in the fourth day of my shedding process that it would be my thumb that I would be shedding to use to write on a keyboard, and instead I would be using my voice. There’s something to be said for letting go of old ways. Technology certainly has come a long way and influenced and enhanced my life.
And so, as another day goes by, the Dragon speaks, and…I have written.
December 3rd, 2011 Awwwww…maaan! Today begins the weight! Obviously trying to shed the 14 lbs in October didn’t work and much harsher measures are called for. I was bobbling along on and off my own diet plan without much direction. I knew as it got closer, December would present the challenge again because I gave the weight problem over to God along with everything else.
Sure enough on Tuesday November 29 wouldn’t you just know Dr. Phil would have the latest, greatest weight loss program on? And of course, all aspects of the program would be exactly what I needed, delivered in a way I could actually manage, free, (after the initial cost of the program), from my own home. It was the P.I.N.K. Method. I ordered it immediately and had it in my possession by Friday December 2. Incredible timing, God.
I spent all afternoon Friday reading it. I thought back in October losing14 lbs to weigh 120 again would be good enough. According to the chart in the manual, a person 5’2 shouldn’t ever weigh 120 lbs – and certainly not 140 lbs as I do now. (If only I was 5’6 I’d be perfect) Proper weight for my height is 110 lbs. I was shocked to find out I have 30 lbs to lose, not 14. It’s a good thing I decided to take more drastic measures.
I have to spend 10 days in the “reset mode” to reset my metabolism. That means only light protein and low calorie vegetables for 10 days. No carbs at all. I decided 10 days would start Monday when I am alone again, with my husband’s cooking well out of reach. I decided to practice today, though, because I’ve had the protein shake for breakfast since I saw it on the show and that was going well. I made the salad and chicken for lunch. That went well. Hubby is making fish and two vegetables for dinner and that sounds good.
Then about 3 pm we went to the garden center to buy a wreath. He says, “Want some popcorn?” I say sure and had it eaten and the bag thrown away before I realized I wasn’t supposed to do that. Then he takes me to the grocery store. Like taking an addict to a crack house. I was eyef#%€g things I’d never buy. No carbs for 5 hours and look at me! It’s gonna be a looong 10 days!
Now we are home, he’s cooking, and I just can’t let that open bottle of Pino go to waste can I? Oh well, today was just practice. Can’t wait for the real day 1.
And so, as another day goes by, I may be shedding weight, but I sure am going to gain discipline (cause I AM going to do this!) and….I have written.
December 2nd, 2011 This morning when I woke up I had things I wanted to write about. I had things I wanted to rant and rave about. I had points I wanted to make. I had concepts I wanted to form. Give me this phone and let me have at it. But then the busyness of Christmas took over the day and I had no chance to sit and play with my words.
Here it is evening already and as I sit amidst the soft Xmas lighting, sipping my wine, waiting for my husband, suddenly I have nothing to say. Oh I do remember what it was I was going to rant and rave about, but in the peacefulness of my living room the importance of the point I wanted to make shrinks and diminishes. It’s too much work to tell the story. The urgency is gone. Evaporated in the soft hues reflecting through my glass.
It quietly occurs to me what my first piece of unneeded baggage to be shed is. Urgency. That terrible urge to “hurry up and tell it”. In 2012 there will be some thoughts left unvoiced. I will think them, but not have to rush and tell them because some things are more powerful when left unsaid.
And so, as the second day of December goes by, the shedding has begun, and…I have written.
December 1st, 2011 I knew weeks ago the month of December was going to end my journey this year by shedding things I will no longer need in 2012. This shedding process is going to be both emotional and physical. I will be shedding fears and insecurities, along with weight and junk around the house. The aim is to start 2012 with a clean, organized environment, both inside and outside my head.
The ironic thing is that yesterday I visited a blog I read now and then and what did I find? On November 28, just 3 days ago, the author posted a blog entitled:
“What Can I Leave Behind?”
This blogger is an excellent writer and I could never hope to express exactly what I am facing in the month of December any better than this, so I will give you Shedding….my word….his blog….Living Life Fully @ blogspot.com…
“What Can I Leave behind?
There are many things in my life that I really would like to leave behind completely right now. I wouldn’t mind leaving behind some of my tendencies to be judgmental, and I surely don’t need all of the insecurities I carry around with me. It would be good just to leave behind some of my shyness and reticence to meet new people, and I definitely wouldn’t be devastated if I were to let go of some of my impatience.
I already have left behind a lot of things that didn’t serve me well, that tended to make me unhappy or frustrated or aggravated. But there are still some other things that hang on with me like barnacles on the hull of a ship–attached tightly, almost unremovable, it seems. But it just seems that way; I know that one of the reasons that they hang on is because I hold on to them.
So I ask myself sometimes, what can I leave behind? What traits or beliefs or ideas do I have that aren’t serving me well, or that are even damaging me? What can I think of this moment that I would rather not have as part of my life tomorrow if I had a choice? Because I do have a choice, don’t I? While it may be difficult sometimes, I really can leave behind parts of who I am that I no longer desire to have as part of me. And those would be the parts of me that stand in the way of love and compassion, that keep me from feeling the positive feelings that can benefit other people in the world. I can leave behind those things that keep me from reaching my higher self, that keep me from achieving my higher aims, that hold me back from progressing towards my higher callings.
Sometimes we simply need to let go, to leave behind. Identifying what we’d be better off without is a relatively easy process, and leaving those things behind, while difficult, is easier than we might think it is when we don’t try. It’s a tricky process, but one that will benefit us–and many others–when we allow ourselves to explore it fully.
We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned,
so as to accept the life that is waiting for us.
Joseph Campbell”
And so, as another day goes by, bring it on December, and….I have written.
November 30th, 2011 …..so why not take 20 minutes and explore giving in a new way?
This time of year the charities and places to give are too numerous to count. It overwhelms me every year because I can’t give to all of them. Then I saw this video. I learned that God doesn’t want our money. God doesn’t even need our money. The reason God asks us to give is surprising and amazing at the same time. Once I got it right, it was easy to decide how much and where to give – not just this holiday season, but on a regular basis.
And….He doesn’t only want us to give Him our money….watch this video to find out what else He wants. Andy Stanley is an amazing speaker. Funny and entertaining. Not preachy. But it’s the concepts he brings forth that changed the way I view giving this year.
I apologize that I can’t provide the link. I still haven’t found the secret passageway between Typepad and YouTube since I signed on YouTube with Google. Just type “Andy Stanley big faith” in the search. There are 6 videos. Watch part four. And then you will have a new view. No one can explain it any better than this.
And so, as another day goes by, thanks to Andy Stanley my faith has grown by leaps and bounds, and …I have written.
November 29th, 2011 This morning I heard a song whose chorus caused me to stop and listen to the words:
“We pour out our miseries,
God just hears a melody,
beautiful the mess we are,
honest cries of broken hearts….better than a Halleluah …”
I liked the concept.
And then I made my way to another very difficult yoga class. Aside from it being the second one in the space of 12 hours, it was 68 degrees and a very humid morning on the cape. Add to that an instructor that opens the door very sparingly, and I’m taking a few knees. As I was struggling in my feeble attempt at forward head to knee, thinking how much I hate this pose everyday, the instructor says, “It’s the poses we hate and struggle with the most that are the ones we need.”
I think in yoga, as in life, God knows what’s best for us. He knows when we’re sitting in the middle of a big hot mess and we cannot help ourselves, that it is exactly where are supposed to be. Just as I have to remember when I’m struggling in the middle of a pose I hate, it is exactly what I need to be doing. Just as the instructor takes pleasure in my misery, God loves when we call on Him for His strength when we have none of our own. Our cries are not misery to Him. They are a symphony. When we are in the worst of times, God is growing us and changing our lives. Most often we have to be made new by a rough time to take on what life holds next.
It’s easy for me to say this now that my rough time is ending with 2011. Believe me, sitting in my hot mess I made last January, no one could convince me that I was in a “good place”. I still have December to go and still believe it is the month to shed the final pieces of things I will no longer need when I step forward into what God has planned for me in 2012. When I heard this song I knew I cannot move onto a new path without first having walked down the tough road I have travelled this past year. I will need each and every thing I learned these past 11 months on my next journey.
So I guess, if our cries of misery are “better than a Halleluah”, even though sometimes we might think it the darkest day of our lives, it is exactly where God wants us. What we hate and what hurts the most is exactly what we need, and God welcomes our leaning into Him to survive. It is the way He changes the very way we are knitted together. Both Bikram yoga and God change us on a cellular level.
And so, as another day goes by, God doesn’t always gives us what we want, but He always makes sure we have what we need to move forward, and…I have written.
November 28th, 2011 Driving day is the day I always return to the cape from NY. Today the weather was extra warm and I think I passed maybe three cars on the Mass Pike. I sailed right along and pulled into my driveway ahead of schedule. I ate a light lunch, relaxed and went to 6 pm yoga.
Yoga was hot, humid, and hard tonight. (Actually the room and instructor were perfect – it was me that was all off). Three poses into it and I knew this was not a night for pushing. Surprisingly I had no breathing trouble. I was just physically tired from sitting in the car all day. I just simply remembered what the instructor said last week. She said not to push and work so hard. Ease into each pose. Find ten seconds in it to be still. Hold quiet. Release. So that’s exactly what I did tonight and instead of a hard muscle workout, I had a slow stretching class…easing and leaning in and going to a new place.
Sometimes instead of pushing, it’s nice to just relax and see what takes shape. I think I just set the tone for my week. Instead of piling on all the Xmas prep, tomorrow I’ll break out the decorations, probably find things I forgot I had, and just relax and see what takes shape.
And so, as another day goes by, the hardest classes teach the best lessons, and …I have written.
November 27th, 2011 This morning Face the Nation opened with “Today is go day.” After gathering for the long holiday weekend, today is the day “everyone gets back on their own boat”.
I laughed as that segment played across the tv because our girls were in the midst of vacating the NY hovel that we all gathered in since last Wednesday. I looked around the teeny apartment with an air bed sprawled across the living room floor and a futon fully extended leaving no room for anything but sitting and being still. We had three days to catch up on old news and even older times. Over cooking, movies, and wine we reconnected and the first skirmish resulting from close quarters didn’t actually break out until this morning. My husband looked at me and remarked that Tim Allen should be here. (We think they modeled Last Man Standing on our family.)
As I was pondering all of this in front of me, one daughter was reading Facebook posts. After reading a fairly mushy one of someone’s mom saying goodbye to her little birds today, my daughter says, “Don’t worry, Mom will post something similar later!” I actually thought about doing that, until I heard the thing about the boats. Looking around at what would need to be done in this apartment after they left, I opted for boats over birds. Boats are good. They will each get carried back into their own lives and tomorrow my “boat” will sail for the cape, leaving my husband to resume his work week.
Going out to my car to get the Xmas decorations, I realized this wasn’t “go day” after all…..it’s just “get ready for them to come back in a few weeks” day.
And so, as another day goes by, go day came and went, and…I have written.
(I just had to do it…lol!)
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