It’s ironic that I posted last week about losing my voice in a metaphorical sense. Or is it merely coincidental? In any event, the fates have conspired to relieve me of my literal voice for the past few days and consequently, I’ve had to do a lot of thinking (particularly since on the very day my voice left me, my computer was struck down by a virus and left me as well. I am typing on the mini keyboard of our netbook and am praying that I don’t accidentally delete this post when I rest to think). Continue reading
I literally did not get any sleep last night and got out of bed at 2:30 am for the day. Continue reading
Not much, at least on the outside. Lots of time obsessing over my body and food, without much to show for it.
I’m writing this so I remember that my decision to QUIT THE STRUGGLE is a good thing. I look fine and normal the way I am, I’m still relatively healthy, and my bulimia is getting better and better all the time. Heavy lifting with proper technique has helped me heal old yoga injuries and (even though it might not be visible) reduce my body fat percentage. All in all, nearly every moment I’ve spent worrying about my current weight, planning for my life after weight loss, or hating myself for having eaten too much, could have been better filled by listening to music, reading a good book, talking to a friend, cleaning my house, or doing just about anything else. Note to self: please remember this, especially when you think about starting your recovery tomorrow.
When I tell people I’m a yoga teacher, they respond in predictable ways. Most of them say something like, “Oh, I’ve tried yoga/I can’t do yoga because I’m completely inflexible/can’t balance/can’t sit still,” or some variation thereof. Others assume I have an advanced physical practice and can perform acrobatics on the level of gymnast or maybe even a cast member of Cirque de Soleil.
And some think that I’m enlightened. Continue reading
When I was eleven years old, my dad told me that I had inherited his thrifty genes and that I would need to be vigilant to avoid putting on too much weight. Ever since then, I’ve always felt overly large to varying degrees. In fact, other than the time my dad and I had a contest to see whose stomach stuck out the most (I was four years old–and he won), the only time in my life when my body felt perfect just the way it was was about seven years ago. Coincidentally–or maybe not–I stopped eating emotionally and compulsively. Within a period of six months, I lost about twenty pounds. Continue reading
Robb Wolf, the current “It” boy of the Paleo movement, posted about the (mis)perceived high cost of eating a caveman’s diet. This got me to thinking about how much money I spend feeding my family on a weekly basis.
I don’t skimp on food. We are doubly fortunate in having in the means to purchase high quality food and having access to it as well. Even though we live in Chicago, where “seasonal” produce means cabbage and potatoes for the majority of the year, specialty and ethnic markets provide an embarrassment of riches to those willing to seek them out. I have a very part-time job that requires me to drive around different areas of the city and it’s easy for me to pop in and out of places to pick up king oyster mushrooms, shiso leaves, whole fishes, and various types of offal not usually seen in sterile suburban markets. Continue reading
I’m an all-or-nothing kind of gal. If something is worth doing, it’s worth doing 110%. And if I can’t give it 110%, then more often or not, I blow it off completely. Sometimes, I’ll tell myself I’m a failure in the process of doing so.
As I get older, however, I can see where this all-or-nothing thinking has not served me so well. If I’m not at the top of my field, it doesn’t mean I’m a fuck up. It simply means I might have to settle for being second-best. I see how my younger son’s perfectionism causes him (and us) more stress than he needs to experience, and while my older son’s lackadaisical attitude toward his obligations sometimes makes us grind our teeth, he usually winds up doing fine without killing himself in the process.
Someone whose opinion I trust advised me to move toward life’s gray areas and away from black and white thinking. This means that when I eat something that’s not on my plan for the day, I don’t have to let it ruin my eating for the whole day. When I have a bad workout or injure myself, it doesn’t mean that I have to bail on the gym for a week to recover from my psychic trauma. And sometimes, it’s okay to say “no” when you want to, even if it means that you risk no longer being the perfect wife or mother or daughter in someone else’s eyes. Continue reading