Perfectly Imperfect

I am lying in bed trying to sleep, I hear the faucet dripping...perfectly rhythmical.  I should get up and turn it off, I think. Then I let the thought pass over me, like a cloud.  The sound is soothing and calming...I drift back to sleep.

I have found myself letting my thoughts drift over me more and more.  Finally understanding that my thought is not me, I have detached.  I have the power to let it go, hurry it along if I need to. 

Stress has been pushing at me over the last few months, it is a season in my life where there is a lot to do, and a lot to be done.  When this season appears I find myself reverting back to my own 4 basic needs...not the ones we all think about: food, water, air and shelter, but my own personal ones: Exercise, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Wine and Diet Coke.

Here is a look at my first "thought"

Wow, that is really bad, I can't believe that you are eating cookies for breakfast.  How can you talk about health and eat like that...Your really bad...

I let the thought pass over me, this thought does not define me.

It is like when you really want a bag of chips.  You say to yourself(your thought) "You can't have chips, they are bad for you, they have too many calories, they will make you fat"  You listen...you go to the refrigerator and eat some carrot sticks, then some yogurt, then a piece of cheese, then an apple.   None of these things satisfy the initial craving....SO...You end up with the chips anyway.  Why not listen in the first place to our need?

I have come to realize that my 4 basic needs are far from perfect.  I do not live on only them, yet they have all been a comfort to me at some time in my life, I felt that needed them.  It was what calmed me.  My stress leads me back to these basic needs of mine.  I am not perfect.

NOW...I can realize and understand that I am ok.  I am perfectly imperfect.  Finding some calm and peace in times of stress can be like the dripping faucet.  Over the long term we would need to either have the faucet fixed, or be more aware of it and turn it off.

When I am stressed, I need to be more aware of what is happening to me, more aware of how I eat, how I move, how I act and how I rest.  I also need to reach out for help.  As the faucet needs a plumber, I may need a friend, a coach, a therapist, a family member or a doctor.  I may need a journal, my crayons, my music, a walk in nature or some silence.

And yes, sometimes I need an hour in the gym, a glass of wine a diet coke or a couple cookies and that can be just perfect.  

Letting go of my own judgements, finding peace and balance in being perfectly imperfect...

Opportunity for Change

Remember when you were a kid, playing kickball, hopscotch, jumprope, or any other game and your first try wasn't quite what you were hoping for?  You asked for a Do-Over.

What if you were asked this question today...

I have.  The interesting fact is that life up to this point has provided me with the most valuable lessons, experiences, situations and people that I would have no way of replacing. No desire to replace.  Only thoughts of gratitude and appreciation.  There would be no way that I would be where I am today if it wasn't for the past. 

No matter how hard, painful, depressing, sad, unfortunate, ugly or frightening our past has been, we have grown stronger and learned much.  Our past has shaped and molded us.  

It is how we look back on our past that is what can determine our future.  Do we hold grudges, regrets, shame, hostility, worry or anger? 

Or do we see growth, opportunity, introspection, acceptance?

Whatever your answer, it is time for a do-over....right here, right now.  A do-over of our thoughts, it is our choice.  Being done with the anger, the shame, the regret can free us for our future. Embrace the growth and opportunity.

If I hadn't lived through the moments of my life, both good and bad, I would not be right here, right now, in this place.  There are paths in front of us.  We can take the one that keeps us safe, or we can take the one that is unknown.  

Trusting the direction that moves into our fear and relying on our experiences to make us stronger.  It is not really a Do-Over.  It is a Do-Above, a Do-Beyond a Do-Chance.  Yes please.  Bring it on.  Face the fear, move beyond the safety, forgive and release.  

The Taming of the Shrew (Mini-Me)

Isn't that the name of a Shakespeare Play?  As I thought of it, my first thoughts went to my Mini-Me.  I do realize there is a different connotation within the play, yet there is relevance in the words when I think about my own destructive Mini-Me. 

My Mini-Me has created and intricate series of roadways in my brain.  She is the BEST at telling me that I am not "good enough".  What I hear when she says that is this: You are not thin enough, you are not strong enough, you are not pretty enough, you are not smart enough, you could never do that.

I have listened to that voice for 40+years now.  This Mini-Me has direct High-Speed access to highways and roadways in my brain.  

I wonder- Can I train her and tame her to drive along a different route?  Create different paths, roads, and highways for her to follow? Ones that will be more helpful, supportive and caring?   The Answer is YES.

When she rolls back into town telling me how fat and out of shape I am, can I stand my ground firmly, roll my eyes, turn my head and refuse to travel with her?  YES!  This ONE ACTION will allow those roads not to get used anymore.  I have the ability to shut them down.  CLOSE THEM FOR GOOD!

DETOUR: ROADS NOT PASS-ABLE

Take time to Show my Mini-Me new roads?  A New Direction? A Better Route?

• One that takes her to the Ocean where there is calm, relaxation and peace within myself.
• One that takes her to the Mountains where there is strength, confidence and hope.
• One that takes her to the Library where there is growth, learning, possibilities and opportunities.
• One that takes her to the Playground where there is fun, joy, movement and happiness
• One that takes her to a lake at sunrise where there is beauty, amazement, gratefulness and hope.
• One that takes her to a mirror where there is acceptance, appreciation, healing, and love

Creation of a map that supports my journey and purpose. Tame the Shrew and make her my friend and ally.

Colliding Emotions

Excitement is brewing, the end is near.  I am looking forward to the stop sign that I see in the distance.  It signifies a pause, a required halt in forward progress.  I know that if I turn back, I will see a winding road, and I will smile.  A true New England back road full of twists and turns, ups and downs....pot holes, frost heaves, meandering rivers, glorious mountains and stunning lakes...sunrises and sunsets along the way.  

As this road I am on draws closer to the stop sign in front of me, I am humbled and grateful. I am in awe of this glorious road I have had the opportunity to follow.  Then...all of a sudden, as if a giant thunderstorm has come over the horizon I am frozen in horrification(NOTE: the definition of this word: The state of being completely horrified) 

I try to breathe..and contemplate the roads before me, ready to put my foot on the gas. I cannot do it I think.  What am I thinking??? Then, within a brief moment of that excitement in my heart,  I begin my acceleration, I realize I have a constant tail wind which provides momentum and confidence (love of my family and friends).  I have a full tank of gas (food, clothing and shelter)  I have a mode of transportation (knowledge, experience, education and support).

Why then do I want to jam on the brakes?  Why am I terrified?

HMMM...lets see?  I have to rely on myself?  What if I fail?  What if I can't make enough money?  what if I get hurt or sick?  What if I don't know what to do? which way to turn?

Lets just take a deep breath, and step on the gas and go, It is too late to turn around now.  "Trust in yourself Annie, trust in God, you can do this". I say to myself.  I Know that if I take the wrong road, I will just turn around.  I am going to follow and embrace the EXCITEMENT emotion, and let go of the Horrification one.

I realize then that these colliding emotions are not foreign to me.  They happen daily in my life...with food, exercise and body image...eat more/eat less, exercise more/exercise less, my thighs are fat, my thighs are strong.... and I have learned to navigate these emotions better as the years have gone by.  Finding the good in the bad, the happy in the sad, the excitement in the fear. 

Trusting in ourselves, knowing that we are capable.  We are strong.  Take the road, and follow it.  Knowing all along that you will gain experiences and knowledge along the way. Always knowing that there are many different roads to try.  All we have to do is have the courage to put the foot on the gas.

Pancakes...and the smell of bacon

As I sit here on a rock looking out onto Lake Winnipesaukee in NH, I realize that I am drawn to water, I always have been...as a kid, I would spend hours swimming at Hoods Pond in Topsfield in the summer.  

My favorite memories are of early Sunday Morning breakfasts.  We would arrive, the family and usually an extra kid or two, at about 7am.  No one was there,it was still, quiet, peaceful. I would break the silence almost immediately as I ran into the glass like water with a splash. Watching the ripples of my entry stream outward 360 degrees around me, smiling the whole time.

The freedom of the water, the dolphin dives down and up over and over again, holding my breath and swimming as far as I could from one dock to the other and back, cannon balls and head first dives off the raft, arms cutting through the smooth water surface in a rhythmical fashion.  

My father would call me in for breakfast, it would already be after 9.  Where did the time go?  I could smell the bacon as soon as I emerged from the water.  MMM...bacon, eggs and pancakes with syrup cooked on the old Colman Grill.  I would cover up in my Steelers (yes, at the time...) sweatshirt and towel, hungry and ready to eat.  The food tasted so good.  There was no thought to how many calories I was eating, how many carbs where in the pancakes, how much exercise I would have to do to burn it all off, what had I eaten the night before.

It was so simple then.  I moved, played, kicked and swam for the joy of it.  I ate when my stomach asked for food...and the food tasted so good.  There was no guilt attached...

By the age of 11 I was dieting, doing numerous sit-ups in my room.  I remember it distinctly the proud moment I left the dinner table in such control...I marched upstairs and did 20 sit-ups, then 20 more, then of course another 10 to round it out to 50....little did I know that by the end of that month I would be multiplying that 50 by 10...

I lost weight, I was always cold, I covered myself in layers, hid myself...Hoods Pond became a place dreaded, it was to cold, I would sit in my oversized sweatshirt and watch others swim, worried about my body, thinking about eating pancakes and bacon, repulsed by my own thoughts.

Decades of overthinking food choices, built a career around moving (that way I could always exercise) that gave me the freedomto eat.  Deep built in messages to eat, you have to eat, why don't you just eat, your so stubborn, its not hard, what are you stupid?  

To this day I get a physical reaction to pancakes(one path in my brain saying too many carbs, and another one saying WOOHOOO Pancakes...)

My eyes begin to tear up...wishing for the innocence of the past, when food tasted so good and had no underlying meaning, and swimming was joyful, not calorie burning exercise where I get too cold.

The Peace Train

Millions of thoughts, thousands of hours, miles of expended energy to stay the same.  Thirty years ago my weight hovered around 140, it hovers around there today.  Some would say I have maintained my weight....well, not really.

The past thirty years consisted of (drumroll please) ...hundreds of diets, cleanses and fasts.  Thousands of exercise classes, miles ran, and weights lifted.  ten pounds lost, ten pounds gained, over and over again.  Happiness never found...

Clothes thrown on the floor in fits of anger, negative, hurtful, self  bashing comments from the mini-me who lives in my head.  She was making sure I knew how fat I was, how much of a failure I was, how I would never look the way I was supposed to look.  She had me pegged.  I couldn't lose weight and keep it off, or stick to a diet.  She knew I had no will power.

How can this be? How can I still weigh the same?  Haven't I done what I was supposed to do?  I dieted, I exercised my butt off...hours at a time, day after day...yet, I stay the same.

I look back on pictures now, and wonder what I was so upset about?  Why was I so unhappy with my weight?  Why did I continue to hate myself, punish myself?

I will never be 30, 40, or 50 again.  It is finally time for a truce.  A cease fire.  An end.

Let's eat to enjoy the experience, the taste, the company we keep, the energy it gives us.  Let's move for the freedom, the enjoyment, and the comradere of friends.  Let's stop believing what we see in magazines and on TV.  Enough with the quick fixes, and the negative self talk.  Fire up and board the appreciation train.  Build up speed with our own acceptance, and race along by sharing our new found freedom with others.  A new meaning for the Peace Train....

Soccer wins the game over the scale

The Woman's World Cup journey over the past months has brought up quite a few memories and feelings for me.  Not only that, but also a revolation....Soccer saved me.

I was dischcharged from the treatment center for anorexia because I had "made and sustained my weight".

I returned home and immediately begged my parents to try out for the freshman field hockey team.  I had never played before, but all I cared about was the structure, the exercise, and that it would keep me away from home for a couple hours everyday after school.  As long as I maintained my weight, said my dad,,,I could play.  Continuing to be ruled by the number on the scale...

It was a long season, my weight slowly dipped, everyone was better than me, faster, stronger, thinner.  Again, I didn't fit.  The focus came back to the scale once again...

Until...

One day, at home after school looking for something to do, I found my brothers soccer ball.  I began to play., all by myself.....juggling, dribbling, shooting.  I loved it.  My brain and body became obsessed, absorbed, addicted. I was no longer focusing on the number on the scale, the number of calories I ate, the sit-ups I had done.   I set my sights on Varsity Soccer in the fall.  I had a goal.

The hammer was laid down yet again by my dad, if I could maintain my weight, I could try out.

My teammates from those early years became my family.  I finally belonged, fit in...you all know who you are...Moe, Paula, Michelle, Mary Tara, Sue, Lisa, Kathy, Eileen, Colleen...amazing memories.

Soccer, strength and speed won the battle over the scale, and as I watched the woman's team play the fond memories of those years came flooding back.

I am grateful for the sport and the teammates who saved me from myself.