Category Archives: Self-Love

Friday Happy: Inner Sage

Last night, a friend introduced me to Sadie via this fabulous and short YouTube video.

Honestly, I think we all have a little Sadie inside us, and if we remember that, perhaps we will stop being so mean to ourselves. Because Inner Sage Sadie does not deserve it — just look at that face!!

This week I started the Inner Mean Girl Cleanse. It’s all about taking those nasty voices and mean girls inside you and turning them into allies. And it’s about time. I have this one Inner Mean Girl who throws spitballs at me every time I so much as *think* about going back to school. And I’m done with her. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but the plan is to get my Bachelor’s in Anthropology (with a specialization in Medical Anthropology) while pursuing certification to become a doula. After that, I’ll study to become an ND (Doctor of Naturopathic Medicine) and a midwife. Did I just say that out loud? I think I just got a spitball in the eye.

But Sadie says I can, and she’s a wise woman in a little girl’s body, so there.

Full Buck Moon Dreamboard


There’s been a great time of shifting just this side of the Full Buck Moon, as evidenced by my last post.. which launched a thousand remedies and inspired new satisfactions. No, I haven’t “figured it all out yet.” If I had, I’d retire from the world as we know it.

But I will say this: my commitment to my Year of Self-Love has been renewed, with new revelations.

First off, the Year of Self-Love sounds pretty self-sufficient, doesn’t it? It doesn’t imply that it involves anyone else. I fell for that delusion myself, until it dawned on me, that my greatest acts of Self-Love this year have involved asking others for help. My greatest delusion in self-sufficiency was that I didn’t recognize, independent though I might be, that it is okay to need assistance, okay to need people. I do need people!

I’ve hired new doctors, a naturopath and a therapist all in the past year, and I’ve gotten better at asking others for assistance. It still takes a bit of swallowing my pride in some instances, and in others, it takes realizing the other person is probably NOT going to be horrified by my request, and that, if they are, they can say no. I’m learning we need not feel guilty for the martyrdom of another — that’s on their heads. Can you tell my mother was Catholic?

And I renewed my commitment to The Joy Diet. I didn’t in fact do fifteen minutes of nothing every day, so much as I did it when it occurred to me. And it made an astonishing difference. I went from someone who seethed and filled my cynical bank account with all the unexpressed reasons the world was out to get me, to someone who recognized a moment of trespass when it occurred and took steps to set it aright, ASAP. No seething. No stories of how this indicates, on every level, that I am meant to be in total misery. Just a step back and then a gentle inquiry as to how something upsetting can be resolved. And it was, and that was it. Cowabunga.

As I continue The Joy Diet, and Rock Star Intuition with Fabeku and Bridget, I look towards more connection with nature this month, especially as I embark on the journey of becoming vegan in August. Hence there’s a lot of the word “organic” on my Dream Board, but it’s not just organic in the food sense.. one of the definitions of organic is: developing in a manner analogous to the natural growth and evolution characteristic of living organisms; arising as a natural outgrowth. This smacks somehow of authenticity, to me. So I go on with my Year of Self-Love, curious as to what the next stage in my own natural growth and evolution will bring.

Vital Signs

Vilano Point Moon Fantasy

As I sit to write, the melancholy scores to The Hours and Portrait of a Lady shuffle beautifully together, reminding me of the mental space I am trying to capture.

Since late spring a feeling has revisited me, one that is not unfamiliar, one that is clearly not resolved in my heart. It is actually less a feeling and more of a realization of absence of feeling.. an awareness that my life exists somewhere outside of life and that, if you were able to take the vital signs of my true heart and my true engagement with the world as we know it, you would see I have long since flatlined.

Moments pull me out on occasion, but they are moments, not my life.. my life, which is outside of life, like a dog forced to live outside all year round on a short leash in the yard while the children of the house play inside the manor. It is oddly self-imposed on many levels.

My life is divided into the before and after, I know most people have an event that defines that for them. Sadly, I was flatlining before, and I briefly came to life after, only to flatline again.

My whole life lay out before me. I had ended a toxic relationship and had started a promising career, but I had no idea how to live. Then my mother got sick, and I had more responsibilities than I’d ever before imagined. It was at this point that I began taking every un-lovely thought and feeling that I had and stuffed it down so that I forgot it existed. It is then that I became the person who faked smiles, who held it together because there were more people counting on her than there were for her to count on.

When my mother passed on a couple years later, there was a surge of feeling so powerful and vital, but it could certainly not be called happiness. It was a deep sense of being alive only allowed by initiation into the deep mysteries of life and death. It strengthened my connection to those who experienced it with me, and it allowed me to see my own life and to hope and even actively search for better, more, for drinking in each days’ light because tomorrow was not promised. I made some life-altering decisions regarding relationships and career, but then settled into a new stasis and returned to a new phase of stuffing down feelings and putting on a brave face. A new phase of flatlining.

It’s July 2010, halfway through my Year of Self-Love. It has been very trying to stay true to my chosen word. Yet I have managed to make micro-movements towards improving my health, I’ve gone into therapy and discussed plans with my naturopath to go off The Pill. I’m planning to go vegan in an attempt to rid my body of toxins as well as to support my healing from endometriosis and an autoimmune disorder.

But my life is not built to fit me; it is built to mollify my fears. And yet it is not working. I am faced daily with a deep dissatisfaction with my life, and a feeling of powerlessness towards achieving the things that could bring me joy — namely, friendships that do not exist here since most of my family and friends are elsewhere. Since my surgery last year I have been keenly aware of this isolation but have felt unable to fix it. It’s deeper than just my life.. it’s something Western society, with its emphasis on individual liberties, has made it difficult to overcome. There are invisible walls miles thick between neighbors who live inches away. There’s the world of the automobile, this canister of space that separates us so much we don’t see each other as people, simply as other cars. Even in this time of technological connection, with texting, cell phone calls, and email, people are communicating meaningfully and in the present moment, less and less.

I think of my life with an eye towards what I can change. I remind myself of the fabulous people I have met who have touched me deeply with their example of building their lives from scratch to reflect them and their passions so perfectly. For those whose capacity for joy teach me something every day. There was a young man who rebuilt a barn into a house, replacing the knots in the wood floors with moons and stars with his own hands. There’s the woman who recently proclaimed on Facebook that she had laughed so much in the past few days that she’d nearly peed herself, and that this proved to her that life was indeed good. There’s a sign in a sandwich shop that says “We do not stop laughing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop laughing.”

I have the capacity for building my own life from the ground up, on my own terms, and I have the capacity for immense joy, even if I must pursue it with all seriousness. Towards this end, I think I’ll dust off Martha Beck’s The Joy Diet and dive back in at the beginning. I attempted it with Jamie Ridler’s Next Chapter Book Club but found it hard to maintain the pace to keep up. I commit to doing the book at my own pace, even if that means I spend 3 weeks on the first ingredient.

I will go to this post by Goddess Leonie and read it as often as I must, to wring feeling from the depths as few blog posts can..

I will seek the Now, because soon it will be gone, wasted, missed, passed right on by. This Now-ness is the standard by which I’ll measure decisions by. Which means many of my escapist tendencies will need to be examined.. too much television, too much internet, too much.. too much.

My thanks to Linnea for her Wednesday wish post, inspired by her own group of blogger friends, for inspiring me to express myself again in this space, not knowing what lies ahead..

..but all beginnings are endings and all endings are beginnings.

Owning Food: A Friday Happy List


Community Supported Agriculture (CSA)
Originally uploaded by Eberly & Collard Public Relations.

Well maybe it is just the time of year,
Or maybe it’s the time of Man.
I don’t know who I am,
but you know life is for learning.

We are stardust, we are golden.
And we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.
~Joni Mitchell, “Woodstock”

***
This post is part of a weekly series prompted by the new Next Chapter Book Club featuring the Happy Book. Each Friday Jamie will be asking us what makes us happy, and anyone can participate!
***

On February 1st, I cut gluten out of my diet, having just discovered that my poor immune system has a sensitivity to wheat. Figuring that I might find it easier to determine what contains gluten than what contains wheat gluten, I went gluten-free. On March 1st, I cut refined sugar out of my diet as well, figuring if I could cut gluten out — in many ways easier than I thought it would be — I could cut out sugar, too. It’s been a mighty learning curve already one week in, but with my Word of the Year, Self-Love, guiding me at every turn, I find myself repeating the mantra Progress Not Perfection. Here are some tales from the journey.

Patience Can Be Cultivated, and Food Prep is a Sacred Act
Patience is not a word most folks would apply to me, least of all myself. This impatience has meant that I’ve often simply not done things that would be well worth the doing, because I wasn’t able to slow down and throw myself into the task. One major thing that has made me impatient is food preparation. By the time I moved in with my then-boyfriend in my mid-twenties, I had pretty much convinced myself I was domestically challenged, and I was regularly thrown out of the kitchen. On my own now for many years, I carried that with me, and not having my mother to call for basic instructions, I stuck to the few things I knew how to cook. And spent far too much money on restaurants and take-out. Now that grabbing a quick bite to eat is difficult at best, fraught with worry over where wheat might be lurking (it is in the darndest things.. like cheese sauce!), food preparation is a necessity, at least until I become wildly rich and can afford a personal chef.

So I’ve been cooking. I have learned that I need better pans and a decent set of knives, and that I hate dishes. And I have learned that despite years of believing that I am totally inept in the kitchen, I am capable of cooking something yummy! Last week, I sat down to a wildly delicious meal that I had made, that gave me just as much pleasure, if not more so, than a meal at T-Bone’s. It wasn’t the most healthy meal: marinated beef tips, broccoli and pan fried potatoes made with olive oil and caramelized onions. It was my first time having any kind of fry since I went gluten-free, and it was my first time making pan fries. I fell crazy in love with them at first taste, and made a mental note that I’m going to try making sweet potato fries — considerably healthier — next. While eating this meal it occurred to me that feeding myself well — whether that means totally healthy or the occasional comfort food — is a totally self-loving act. In Crazy Sexy Cancer Tips, Kris Carr calls food preparation a sacred act. I didn’t believe her until I’d cooked several new-for-me meals from scratch, and gluten-free: orange chicken for Chinese New Year; egg drop soup and fried rice with veggies and shrimp on another occasion. I didn’t believe her until I learned the “right way” to cut an onion and I found myself crying with burning eyes in my kitchen, cutting enough onion for a week’s worth of meals. I didn’t believe her until I sat down with that wildly delicious meal and I felt so supported and loved by my food, for real. This is what I had been looking for from my food since it became an “interest” and not just fuel or a way to get Mom to shut up so I could get back outside to pay with the neighborhood kids. I saw that my body was a temple and it was well worth the time and effort — and, let’s face it, the FUN — of cooking something from scratch to fuel it.

We Are Always Learning, Whether We Want To Or Not
As long as we are here, we are learning something. Yet we all know people who stubbornly cling to old information or to things in their experience that they have come to understand as true, shutting out new evidence or anything reeking of something “new”. For a long time I avoided learning about nutrition because of the inherent frustration that no one agrees with anyone else! Instead I ate a whole lot of garbage and my body was learning, even if I wasn’t. My body was seeking to teach me, if only I wasn’t too stubborn to listen. And for a long time I didn’t listen, leading to poor health and pain and more misery than I care to admit to.

So I woke up one day and became teachable yet again. Co-creating with your body for its own wellness is simply smart. The past few weeks have found me in grocery and health food stores almost daily, often just on a field trip to read labels and note prices and.. learn. Gluten-free eating can be tricky when everything in your local grocery contains a Modified Food Starch or Maltodextrin. Maltodextrin is made from corn or potato starch in the US — if your item is not a food, however, (such as a supplement) or it is manufactured and labelled elsewhere, you may very well be consuming gluten.

When it comes to sugar there are so many names for it and it is hidden and many simple things we consume. For instance, my Pacific Foods Organic Free Range gluten-free Chicken Broth contains evaporated cane juice. And this is just another name for sugar. Check out the ingredients in your ketchup and pasta sauce next time you shop. Laugh yourself silly at the corn syrup that is in your salad dressing. Realize that we have bought and been sold a lie,  by not reading our labels!

Being Willing To Do It  Means Being Willing To Do It Badly
Few people get something right the first time they do it, and changing your eating habits is no simple task. One of the amazing things about food is that it really is a miracle and it really is medicine; no matter how many years of crap you’ve consumed, you can turn it around at any point and the food you consume today can begin to heal you! That is not propaganda. But there’s something else.  There are a lot of folks out there has an idea of what diet or eating style is the magic bullet. And while it is wonderful that they’ve found the magic bullet for them, what we ALL need to realize is that our bodies are different; not just different from each other, but different even from itself at different times in your life. Consider this:  Every seven years all of the cells in your body are replaced. We know life stages affect hormone levels, and also that everyone has different immunities and sensitivities. So the fad diet that everyone follows may not agree with you. While raw food is all the rage, Ayurvedic medicine tells me my dosha is Vata, and as such cold, raw foods are often intolerable; I already know this by how I feel when I eat them. I am not saying I will never try or go raw; nor would I say I will never give up meat. But for right now, I’m learning to cook, learning to navigate food, adding new foods to my diet but also continuing to enjoy red meat and fried potatoes. I am okay with this stage in my learning, because I am learning every moment, whether my meal looks like a breakfast of champions or a hilarious fakery of fast food. My message is this: Listen to your body, do not listen to guilt over your body not conforming to some ideals placed upon you from outside.

And that’s the very new way food is making me happy this week!