Anne Lamott is one of my favorite authors and commentators on life in general, and life of a recovering addict in particular. I came across her post on Facebook today, and found in between the lines,  many meandering thoughts of like kind wandering through my mind lately. Especially the ebb and flow of life, the learnings along the way, and the inevitable march of time into older-age, which I am experiencing.

This morning, I put out the bag of roasted and salted almonds (but not, I noticed, as salted as they used to be which I liked; must have cut back in the name of nutrition, darn). Anyway I put them out and munched on a few, so I would bypass the bag (one of each) of mini Musketeers and Snickers.

To no avail…..after having downed one of each, I now have them behind closed doors of the closet awaiting the first ding-dong (oh, there’s another sweet, none in sight) of the front door bell tonight.

The fact that I have a little community in this “avoid sweets” attempt made life a little lighter for me today. All that’s left is to attack and accomplish the cleanings of two bathrooms on this rainy Saturday afternoon, watch a little football comfortably, as the MSU Spartans are having a rest day, and play some games on my Kindle Fire. Pretty easy.

Happy Halloween.

From Anne Lamott:  GUEST BLOG

“I have finally isolated the problem: that we were born at all. That we have bodies, and minds. Also, parents. Who made us go to school. Where a third of the children were absolute beasts, especially on the blacktop, when teachers weren’t looking. At about the time a grandparent or cat died, and we began to realize everything and everyone was going to die. Even Mom! Who was insane, who either had to be highly medicated, or who cleaned between the piano keys with Q-tips, or hated Dad, or adored Dad, who hated her.

This is all by five years old, before most children can even read, i.e. begin to learn about the full nightmare of life in one’s own bizarre family, let alone slums, Stalin, alcoholism, manic-depression, JFK, cancer, acne, and what eventually happens to most animals at the pound.

This advance is not available to most children until they are at least six years old.

Right? I mean, let’s put aside the fact that our hearts get broken–everyone’s hearts get badly broken here, trust me; shattered–and maybe we have children and they have awful problems, and their hearts get shattered, and you want to die, but eventually maybe they find a great husband, say, whom you adore, who, when the twins are ten, they divorce. Then your best women friends gets breast cancer. Plus your cat, who is the main reason you can even stand being here at all some days, is on his last legs.

So yeah, maybe we’re a bit more tense than the average bear.

Yeah, maybe we’ve shut down a little. Maybe at six years old (see above) we’ve developed armor, like very articulate, high-achieving armadillos. We’re obsessed with what other people think of us. Some of us drink or eat a little more than would be ideal. We know we are a little off balance, a little out of whack, because we binge on this or that, or starve, or have developed tiny, tiny control issues, and maybe struggle EVERY so often with judgment, hardly worth mentioning; or cannot turn the TV; and the cell phone is destroying our lives, our chance to be spiritually awake and present, and makes us hate the worst offenders. Plus, you know, the little death thing.

I promise, if I were in charge of more, if I were God’s West Coast representative, I would have a much better system.  But I’m not.

So what is the plan? I’m so glad you asked, because while I have some heartbreaking and highly stressful things going on even as we speak, as everyone does, and it is Halloween, which I hate on every level, not just because I have eaten all the fugging Mounds, which I thought I could keep around because I don’t love them, I am in a dangerously good mood.

Why? Because I have community. I have several friends who are so On Beyond Zebra in terms of greatness and loyalty, that we will never be alone in our struggles and suffering guns craziness. Because I got a second chance at life. Because God has to love me-that’s His or Her job.

Because the day is young, and only I can wreck it. I’ve done my prayers, meditation and been to the Church of the New York Times. I am in my own home, where there are pets, autumn apples, unread books, clean sheets on the bed (!!!!!), not all that many more Mounds bars to shovel in. I get to go for an hour’s hike. And then, OMG, a hot shower. I get to put lotion of my beautifully, ripply, sturdy, work-horse thigh; the laying on of hands.

And then all of these sober people who love me more than life itself–and I them–are going to meet and roar with laughter, or cry, and listen intently to one another, and remember that most of our problems are mental–our minds are for entertainment purposes only. So we will change channels. We will turn off K-Fucked Radio, and be where our feet and hearts are, with each other, sticking together, sharing our water and gum. We remind each other to eat, that we get even worse when we don’t. Like Jesus telling his disciples, “You are all driving me a bit crazy here today, but there is a fish roast going on at the beach. So everyone go eat, share, savor; breathe. And we’ll meet back here later. Deal?”

Then I am going to flirt with every old lonely person I see. And I am going to walk with my dogs through the ‘Hood, even though Bodhi is old and aches, and I will pick up litter, even though there will be more tomorrow, because that is not my business. Love and service are my business. Walking the dogs is my business. Radical self-care is my business: hence the autumn apple as and clean sheets, and remembering to look up. Asking myself if I want to be right or kind is my business. Law of the American Jungle: Remain Calm, and Share Your Bananas. Period.

I have to get up tomorrow at 4:00 a.m. and fly to Alabama, but that is tomorrow. Not my problem. Just today. I have you, you have me. The friends, the changing leaves,the unread books. The dogs. The cat, who is perhaps the tiniest bit bitter, about the dogs. The Mounds, which are actually damn good. Our hearts. Cool water. Wow.

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It’s Complicated!

Lookin’ for Love in all the Wrong Places?

“Food, glorious food” the hungry orphans sing out and celebrate in the musical, Little Orphan Annie. And that is actually what I want to talk about in this blog — food, not candy, but I couldn’t resist the picture! On the psychological level, that is what many psychologists and medical professionals will attempt to explore with an overweight person.

 

Well, that’s me, but I have found much love in this wondrous world and have gratitude for all that’s been given me. So that’s not an answer to a dilemma I’ve had with food over the major part of my adult life.

 

I am a healthy, getting healthier (by all medical tests) by the moment senior adult,  fairly schooled  and credentialed in the basics of good nutrition, have practiced them for a long period of my life, and added a lifestyle of active exercises to fit my “taste” — and yet, I still must monitor and carefully choose “my daily bread!”

 

While I do this, I still do not achieve a desired weight loss, nor have I ever come near that elusive “after” picture, many women display in their weight loss ads. Having to step on a scale is the number one reason I do not like to go to a doctor, any doctor — and by the way, what does your weight have to do with a doctor having to look at a trigger finger? Would it not be locked up if I were ten pounds lighter?

 

That’s usually what I start with. I’d like to just get ten simple pounds off and go from there. Yeah, right. I have a comfortable food plan, that keeps the calories in line for me and the sugars down for Tom, doesn’t exclude any nutrient group and fairly balances out the carbs, proteins, and fats. And I’ve zoomed my attention in on portion size, making sure I am eating what the package says one serving actually is.  (My first big mistake in days gone by, that I’m still susceptible to today). But I’m confident that  today’s plan is healthy by anyone’s standard.

 

But do the ten pounds leave? No, again and again. Maybe three-fourths of the way there. Then it stops! Current nutrition experts say — do NOT starve yourself. And they even say, if you are of “a certain weight” to even ADD more food to your plate. Now that is really tough to do when you don’t trust food to begin with because of previous trials and errors.

 

I can’t really fix much in my eating pattern these days because I gave up dieting.  Diets don’t work — permanently.  I, again from experience, know that has been true for me. They were something I went off. Now I just have a healthy plan with high hopes, it will treat me to some slow-as-a-turtle losses that add up. I’ve given this a lot of time. I have a very, very slow turtle.

 

So along side my food journal now, I am writing my knowledge of this food journey and quoting some of the experts, whom I’ve read over the years and have formulated  my “game on” approach to eating.

 

I’ll share a few of them.

 

As I said above — balanced in nutrients, moderate in amounts, eat often and small which amounts to a major breakfast, medium to light lunch, and a 1 SERVING SIZE dinner (no family dining at our place anymore!) along with 2 small snacks during the day, and a very small treat at night (highly recommended by an authority) so you don’t ever feel you have to “go off” something.

 

Outside the home, in uncontrolled eating environments, I attempt to get my plate to resemble home eating and if not possible I watch portions closely. I will readily and humbly admit, however, that a small piece of Laura’s lasagna, is almost not humanly possible.

 

Now here is some tidbits (pardon the pun) from my journal:

 

FACTS:

“A complex relationship exists between food, blood sugar, insulin and fat.”

 

“Use an eating guide that is really NOT a diet. It allows you to eat all the foods you like in the proper amounts and still control insulin resistance and lose weight.”

 

“If you  (I) eat more calories than your (my) body needs, you (I) will gain weight. It doesn’t matter where the calories come from; protein, carbs, or fats.”

 

“Typically, diets do not work, in the long run. Weight loss from dieting is usually followed by weight gain to your previous or even higher level.” (Over my lifetime, this has been true, so I need to listen to this.)

 

“Keep in mind that any food can be part of a healthy food plan, if used in moderation.”

 

“Brisk activity is the most effective activity for burning fat. It does not have to be continuous to burn fat. It adds up cumulatively” (kinda like fat does?) Work any kind of activity into your day as often as you can ie. biking, walking, for ten minutes at a time, several times a day.”

 

“When you have the time, add a thirty minute or hour gym session in something you like, spinning, Pilates, swimming; the key is to be sure you really like it, or you won’t want to stick with it.”  (true, true).

 

“Adapt a lifetime activity habit. It is the KEY to weight loss maintenance.”

 

“Learn to splurge successfully, safely, and OCCASIONALLY. It is an essential skill to master in order to achieve long-term weight loss maintenance.”

 

For me, having a Weight Loss Food PLAN means that “cheating” is impossible and no longer viable in my food vocabulary.”

 

Today, I want:

         To quit being afraid of food.

         To quit being angry at food.

         To quit being driven or overpowered by food.

         To quit envisioning a before & after photo.

 

Today, I simply want:

          To enjoy my food

          and have it feel good

          in my body.

 

Today, what I no longer want from food:

          Is to cover up my anxiety.

          Is to overcome my fear.

          Is to solve my problems.

          Is to love the unlovable parts of me.

 

Today, in a world where some of us have feasts and others suffer real and painful famines, I Am  deeply grateful for the nutritional abundance that is always available to me and I look to help others in whatever small way I can to put food on their tables.

        

 

 

 

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