Organized Clutter

New Website!!

2010-03-11T10:01:00.002-06:00

Organized Clutter has moved to www.michellecowanonline.com/blog. Please update your bookmarks and subscriptions :)

If you've wondered why I've been silent lately, it's because I'm releasing my new website. And you, yes you, my beloved blog readers, are the first to hear about it.

Finally, I have my very own space on the web. You can listen to and buy my music there, as well as read my blog and access recovery-related resources.

I'm anxious to hear your feedback on the look, feel, and content as I tweak the site. Do you think the background looks pink? Is it ugly? Can you not find your way around? Does it not work? Have some links to add? Let me know!

I Can Take It

2010-03-02T19:46:00.002-06:00

Many times in the past, I have wondered if I could handle someone telling me, “Michelle, you look like you’re gaining weight. Are you okay with that? Is there something going on?” What about a similar question: “Michelle, you’re getting pretty thin. Are you okay with that? Is there something going on?” Could I handle those comments?

The answer is yes. I can. People have given me enough negative comments over the years that now I know I can deal with the pang of criticism. The pain goes away. I can withstand that. I would rather hear something—anything—that could steer me in a healthy direction; I would rather a stinging comment lodge itself in my head than have nothing tugging at me as I head down an unhealthy road. The criticism may not save me at the time it is given., but it could very likely come to mind later, when I lack clarity and am open for change.

I’m finally getting old enough that I recognize emotions when they pop up. When I feel the pain of a criticism or a deep sadness rises to the surface, they aren’t foreign, strange visitors anymore. I don’t look around, bewildered, wondering what to do with those feelings. I feel them. I recognize them. I name them.

I talk to them, and they fade away. They may bring things for me to think about. They may lead me toward some action. But the feeling fades. And I am not afraid of them anymore.

These are the lessons for today:

Feel your emotions and remember them. Eventually, you will have enough victories dealing with emotions that you will feel secure and not completely overwhelmed every time you feel them. (And if you feel overwhelmed, you will one day firmly know that overwhelming states pass as well and that you can find treasures inside those moments.)
Be lovingly honest with people. Don’t shy away from telling people your concerns if you have them. Any words of encouragement, even if something that could potentially sting must be included in the statement, are better than no words at all when someone truly is in need. But please, choose your words in love—don’t take so long in choosing that you say nothing—but choose loving language.

Sickness Is Healthy?

2010-02-21T21:55:00.002-06:00

Sometimes, circumstances thwart us from doing what we want or hope to do. This happens on large and small scales, but no matter what is at stake, those situations can be incredibly frustrating.

Right now, I’m a bit under the weather, and as a result, many things I would like to do are out of my reach. I get bursts of energy during which I can do a load of laundry or clean the kitchen, but after about thirty minutes, I’m dragging again. I could take this as an irritation and inconvenience, but instead, I’m choosing to see it as an opportunity to think beyond my usual schedule.

Incapacitations lead to creativity. When a human can’t do something one way, that person usually finds another way to do it or is led to another interest. Sicknesses and inconveniences are essential for me because I tend to get so bound up in routine; only something at least moderately severe can break the chains of my own tightly-controlled regime.

Illness works for me because it slows me down. I get in much better touch with my body and my emotions during illness. Eating disorder thoughts lessen because my notions of food start to center around what will get me better (or what will help me survive, if I feel that terrible). Sickness is a good thing (at least under my usual, non-terminal conditions). Funny that I spend so many borderline obsessive/compulsive moments scrubbing things and washing my hands to avoid it ;)

I can even extrapolate this perspective when looking back on my entire history with eating disorders and recovery. I would not be who I am without that struggle. My inability to “fit” in certain ways has led me toward new ways of living.

In this moment, however, my aching body needs to rest, and I’m doing to jump on the opportunity to adhere to that early bedtime I’ve been trying to move myself toward for months! My to-do list is no match for this kind of exhaustion.

The Deepest Desire

2010-02-17T23:06:00.002-06:00

It’s not just that I want to be known.

For a long time, I thought that what I most deeply wanted was for another human being to see and appreciate everything about me. Most people want this at some level, and I experienced angst every time something reminded me that absolute knowing is, in fact, impossible. One person can know another for eons and still never peel back every layer.

I pained and hurt and struggled with this—and the idea that I was not allowing people in, that I did not allow people to know me. What was I doing to block their advances? Why would I do such a thing? The cure seemed to lie in me laying down my defenses and learning how to open up about myself in a clear, authentic way. I needed to do this more often. Practice would bring me my desire—or something as close to full-knowing as I could get. So I practiced and tried and worked.

One evening, I bent over the sink, washing a skillet, when the notion of a hypothetical someone breaking into my heart entered my mind. I chose to pause there and keep the thought, as it had been a repeated visitor over the years. I had written songs about it, longed for it, cried on my floor, begging the universe to send someone into my home—into my life—who would break down the walls and catch me at my most vulnerable point. I deeply desired that someone would infiltrate my most heavily guarded space.

There, as I scratched at a piece of cooked-on dinner, an especially frank thought rose to accompany my old friend: “They wouldn’t have to break in if you would open the door.”

At first, it struck me as achingly profound. Of course, just open the door. How simple! “Cling to this thought,” I told myself. “This is something to remember.” But the comfort I expected to flood my heart as a result of the remembering never came. Why did this dramatic solution leave me empty?

Because it was the same answer I’d given myself dozens if not hundreds or thousands of times: Just let people in, open up more readily, live life more honestly, take more chances, and expose yourself regularly. I’d done all of that. I was trying to do it more and more… and still, no one could ever completely know me. No one could see every region.

My scrubbing slowed even further. “Is that what I really want?” I asked myself. “Is my deepest desire really to be known?”

Partly. No one could deny that. This preoccupation had not lingered for so long without gaining my interest. The momentum it provided me to reach new levels of self-actualization was no accident.

However, I had overlooked its partner desire, which takes me back to the original thought in the kitchen: I wanted someone to break in. I didn’t yearn only to be known. I longed for someone to want to know me.

I wanted someone to beat down the door, to go to extraordinary lengths, to be so captivated by me that they would risk even my affections to see my soul.

The desire was two-part: (1) I wanted to be known (2) by someone who wanted to know me.

This key realization has moved something within me. The pressure—at least some of the time—has lifted. The burden is no longer completely on me to open up and bare my soul to the light of day. Yes, I still work on revealing my authentic self more often. Yes, I want to open the door a little further and show the world more of who I am.

But the completion of my desire to be known is not in my hands. No matter how much I open up or give, it is up to the universe and to the people in it to bring someone to my door who will go to any means to break through it.

I can rest, understanding that if I do not satisfy my craving to be known by someone, my life has not been lived in vain. All I can do is to take on the role of my ideal, interested person for others, which will hopefully help me leave the door unlocked for people who decide to persistently pursue more knowledge about me.

A Trickle Is Enough

2010-02-14T20:32:00.002-06:00

Earlier this week, nothing seemed to go right for me. Although I meticulously save my money and organize my time, all efforts came to naught on Monday and Tuesday. The universe was out to prove that I was, of course, not in control, and this manifested in all sorts of little inconveniences.

After paying a few unexpected parking charges and spending an unexpected amount at a restaurant, I got no sleep and couldn’t seem to get important tasks accomplished at work. I felt exhausted and a little sick.

On Wednesday, I woke up planning to head to my apartment’s fitness room to work out and to finally get my monumental amount of laundry done after work. To my dismay, my access card, which allows me into common areas of my apartment complex (e.g., laundry room, fitness center,) was missing, likely freezing its plastic coating off in New York or jet setting around the world on the floor of an aircraft.

The apartment office doesn’t open until after 9 am (by which time I’m already expected at work), so I tried to dust off my frustration while hunting in vain for a few extra minutes. In the end, I picked myself up and opted to go for a very short jog before work, trying to forget the $25 fee I would have to pay to replace the card (yes, $25 for a magnetic card) and the fact that I would have to find time during the day to leave work and come get the card during regular business hours.

After my jog, all I wanted was to get in the shower and find my way to work before I was later than I already knew I would be. Most of you have experienced the same shock I felt when I reached into the streaming water only to jerk right back out again. A freezing blast. No hot water.

I almost started crying on the spot. I kept trying to think of things I could blame for the string of inconveniences. Was it the energy of the people I’d been hanging around? Some karmic comeuppance? The manifestation of my own negative thoughts? Or just the world being the terrible, anti-Michelle place it had proved itself to be time and time again? I did not seem to fit into its scheme.

Taking a deep breath, I turned off all the cold water and opened the hot as far as it would go. A sizable trickle spilled out of the showerhead. I looked at it. I felt it. It was warm.

I scooped it over my head, weak though it was. I somehow adjusted my body beneath it. All of a sudden, one thought entered my head, “This is enough.”

“This trickle is enough for me to take a warm shower.” I smiled. I laughed. I let everything go in that one moment. All of the toughness of the previous days seemed meaningless and trivial.

Still smiling, I hurried through my meager shower, trying to get soaped up and out of there before my flow ran out. The whole thing felt completely ridiculous, crouching there, trying to give every part of my skin equal shower time.

Although it was certainly not the most relaxing shower of my life, it certainly wasn’t the worst. And the quickness with which I completed it put me on time for work for a change. I laughed and with a minimal selection of clean clothes, decided to wear the most outrageous outfit I could put together. “I have no problems today,” I said, and headed out the door.

My neighbor called, and we commiserated over the lack of heat. I also discovered that it was his birthday and was able to plan a dinner to celebrate. The day lightened up a bit.

I arrived at work and called the apartment complex manager, who informed me that although I still owed the complex $25 (Have I mentioned how ridiculous that amount is?), I wouldn’t in fact have to leave at lunch to pick up the card. The front office would be open until seven that day.

Burdens continued to lift, and I patted myself on the back for keeping track of the card for the entirety of the almost two years I have lived there. I was bound to lose it at some point, and this was mighty impressive for someone who loses her keys at least once every other day.

For a second, I stood back, amazed at what one little shift in my thinking could do. I moved from a problem-plagued existence into a realm where I could do no wrong. I actively decided that problems would not be viewed as problems that day. I would focus on the positive. And it made an extreme difference.

It wasn’t that things just started going my way at some point. It was that I chose to see the things that DID go my way rather than the things that did not. I chose my reality.

What’s more, when I arrived at the apartment complex after work, one of the women in the office went back to get a card for me and came back saying, “I’m sorry this card is so beaten up, but someone found it and brought it in. I figure I can give you this one so you won’t have to pay.”

What!? And it was in even better condition than my raggedy old card had been. Ah, small blessings quickly become miracles to me. In the gloomy, rainy evening, I practically skipped back to my apartment. Yes, I stepped in mud on the way, but at least I had thought to change into my old sneakers before walking to the office. Yes, a good day…full of miracles.

A trickle of water is enough. I have enough and want for nothing. What I have is enough, and I am grateful for it.

This post is for SSS – You know who you are ;)

Play to Your Strengths

2010-02-08T21:22:00.004-06:00

This weekend, I journeyed up to Liverpool, NY, to visit with the hearts and minds behind Ophelia’s Place (http://opheliasplace.org/) and their newest business that helps to foot the non-profit’s bill, Café at 407. As I’ve mentioned before, I long to create a community space where creativity, community, love, and spirit are nourished. Ophelia’s Place certainly does that! And I want to learn from the best.

With a front coffee/café area homey enough to make you want to stay and sip mocha for a week and a private room anyone in the nearby area would want to rent, Café at 407 welcomes the community into a space built for conversation. “Conversation about what?” some might ask. According to founder Mary Ellen Clausen, Café at 407 provides a venue to move discussions about calories and “good” and “bad” food choices toward true, authentic sharing about loving oneself and body.

I was able to take part in the annual fashion show Ophelia’s Place puts on as a fundraiser each year. It thrilled me to see models of all shapes and sizes take the stage, along with looks from superb local designer Cheryl Geiger (http://cherylgcollection.com/ - AMAZING!) as well as the local thrift store. Beauty is everywhere, and this show celebrated that.

I took the brief weekend trip to investigate what it takes to put on an event like the fashion show and to see how Ophelia’s Place operates in person. I was truly impressed. Ophelia’s Place is the non-profit foundation behind the physical space of Café at 407. Eating disorder recovery support groups meet there during the week, in the community room and in a special area in back. Comfy chairs, warm colors, quotes painted on the walls, and inviting and accessible recovery information speak the message of hope and healing loud and clear while welcoming people of all backgrounds. The fabulous food doesn’t hurt, either!

Behind the café, offices and additional rooms have been decorated and designated for therapeutic and administrative purposes. Ophelia’s Place partners with The Nutrition Clinic of Elmira, NY, (http://www.solstonecenter.com/) to provide nutritional counseling and support groups to those in need of professional recovery resources. The Nutrition Clinic itself offers unique care for people in transition from hospitalization to every-day life. By working together, both organizations are able to reach more people in the places where they need help.

I am truly amazed at what Mary Ellen Clausen and a bevy of other contributors have built, and this trip definitely gave me some perspective about what I want. The main thing I learned from the team that makes Ophelia’s Place so strong:

Play to your strengths.

This is one of many lessons from this weekend. Can I be a Mary Ellen Clausen, networking and planning and executing and go-go-going? No. But can I be Michelle Cowan and make things happen? Yes.

I was reminded of my personal stamina and the pace at which I like to operate. One of the other successful women there pointed out the disparity between the energies of some of the people around and her own. I couldn’t help but commiserate. We both get tired. We both want to get back to the creative stuff and out of the business end. We can make things happen and start balls rolling. We can network and travel and do anything necessary to make a splash in the world, but we’re exhausted at the end of it! We want to enjoy life, not live in a continual stress bubble. What is, for me, a strenuous pace is nothing to some other people. The key is knowing myself.

By seeing the work at Ophelia’s Place, I understand what I want a little better. I want to share my creative fruits with the world, and I want that sharing to stimulate others to create and connect. I don’t have to have a physical space for that yet—even though I hope to have one someday.

I can commit to fleshing out my online presence and selling a few songs. I have other ideas and ways to connect in mind, but I definitely see where my vision is headed. If I do open a café or community center of some sort, it will have a slightly broader scope than eating disorders alone. It will center around healthy body image, authentic living, community, and love.

I want to follow the “change the conversation” message of Ophelia’s Place. Wherever I am, I can create that space I envision. For now, I am gathering information on how different powerful people have grown their businesses and brought their ideas to fruition. I’m learning so much from the people I’m talking to, and I’m gaining a new appreciation for my creative and organizational skills. When I choose to put them into practice (and I emphasize that it is a choice utilization on my part), things happen—more than things, miracles.

For now, I’m getting some rest from a slightly harrowing but incredibly enlightening trip to and from New York, and I’m focusing on my own best qualities. How can I bring what I have into the world? And where do I need to ask for help?

I could leave off there, but that leads me into another lesson learned. Ophelia’s Place takes a village to thrive. Countless volunteers showed up for this event, and Mary Ellen works with a team to guide, direct, and grow Ophelia’s Place. She certainly has the vision and the powers of coordination, but others flesh out those visions with their unique blends of creative, logistical, and emotional talents.

I often forget that my weaknesses can be supplemented by the strengths of others. I don’t excel in every area, but I can find people who would love to give of themselves in ways I never could.

So, I continue to rest, evaluate what I have to offer, and search for comrades. Not a bad way to start the week!

Feels Like Falling

2010-01-31T15:25:00.007-06:00

As I watch myself back on the video I am including in this entry, I am reminded of just how awkward watching myself perform is. I started to try to extract the audio so that I could avoid posting the visuals but ultimately decided that it wouldn't be worth the effort. Other people watch me perform all the time; I figure you can take it. But it's odd to see myself from another the other side of the stage.

Anyway, this song, "Falling," was written over a span of a few years. First, I only completed a chorus, until I forced myself to finish out a couple of verses and a bridge about a year and a half ago. I always disliked those verses. Parts of them were enjoyable, but as a whole, they were rather disappointing and, ultimately, annoying. I threw the song in the closet, never to be revisited. It was too painful to play the fun little chorus and then have to endure the awkward stanzas in between.

Nonetheless, the chorus stayed in my head, despite what I think is a soundly unpoetic hook. "Falling into a hole"? Really? But it turns out that that phrase describes exactly what I want it to describe. And this week, I revisited those verses and cleaned them up. Now, the song expresses something special, with pieces written over two years ago combined with what I feel today.

At first, I thought the song was about those moments in life when I feel like giving over to the eating disorder, when I want to let all of my neuroses, depression, and anything else "diseased" take over. I want to sink into bingeing or starving or reclusiveness during those times. The song seemed to center around those periods and the fear, sadness, and anxiety that accompanies them.

Over the years, however, I have observed that many times when I have the feelings I just described, I am not surrendering into the eating disorder. I am surrendering to my feelings. The song is about giving over to something entirely different. It's about a release that leads to something positive and healthy if I allow it to happen.

Participating in eating disorder behaviors is actually not anxiety-provoking at all. It's the feelings that surround it that send me into a tailspin, the feelings that make me turn to the behaviors, the feelings of guilt after I let my eating disorder run wild. All of those emotions cause fear. Disordered behaviors mask emotion and authentic truth.

The most potent feelings of helplessness I've ever experienced have been related to the moments when I allow myself to feel instead of participate in my eating disorder. It's overwhelming to feel incredibly sad, confused, or lonely. The intensity of my need for alone time frightens me at times and feels dangerous, even though it may ultimately be healthy.

Now, I've learned that it's okay to sink now and then into despair. I always reemerge. It's okay to spend introspective time alone for long stretches. Likewise, it's perfectly fine to dismiss all of my obsessive thoughts and do FUN things, even when there are certain tasks I feel I HAVE to accomplish. It's okay to go out and waste time alone or with others, even when laundry or other obligations loom. It's okay to come home from work and relax instead of pay my bills immediately.

Nonetheless, all of the "necessary" tasks generally need to be completed, and knowing this can result in incredible anxiety and indecisiveness. It's hard to let myself be. But it's necessary. It's essential to let go of everything sometimes and allow life to flow through me. I may cry, I may laugh, I may shut the blinds for a while and revel in solitude. The more I can associate these activities with things other than the eating disorder, the easier it is to do them without guilt. I can enjoy myself without food (even though I can also enjoy myself with it). I can feel sad and not try to shove it away with a binge or an eight mile run.

I can surrender to my intuition and do what I feel instead of what I think I should do. The release is scary sometimes and feels like falling without a net.

Those are the thoughts for today, accompanied by "Falling," the little song I'd like to share with you today. All my best ~

She Moves Intuitively

2010-01-10T17:19:00.002-06:00

She moves intuitively. I just wrote a song with that title while envisioning the woman inside me who moves according to the tides within herself. And that takes her to exactly where she needs to be. Yes, I certainly want to be her.

Over the past few weeks, I have been trying to move according to my intuitions. It amuses me, however, how often I’m not sure exactly what I intuitively want to do! My intuition feels buried under other things I’ve learned throughout the years.

I was taught to do certain things to survive or to supposedly make my path through life smoother. I pay my bills immediately, clean my house at regular intervals, and behave in particular ways around different groups of people. I say this instead of that, do this when I mean that, eat this not that… Do you see where I’m going?

For all of us, our parents and society have given us a lot of shoulds. Sometimes, those shoulds are wise. We can use advice a lot of the time from people more experienced than ourselves. However, some of that advice does not apply to particular situations—or it may never apply at all.

What if the world says I need to eat at X time but I am hungry at a different time? What if I’m “supposed” to say X thing to be polite or if I’m supposed to behave a certain way to climb the corporate ladder, but I don’t mean those words or like behaving that way? What if the way the world says I should dress and move through it runs contrary to who I know I am?

I have every right to say no and behave in ways that people might sneer at. So be it. I have that right.

So, I’m moving along with the flow of me, not with the world. I’ve come up against some snags, but I can offer a bit of advice to others trying to act according to their intuitions:

Take quiet time every day to stop and do NOTHING. You may meditate during this time or just stop and breathe. The main thing is to quiet your mind and spirit. You can’t know what you want unless you provide time to communicate with yourself.
Don’t always respond immediately to every request you receive. You don’t have to accept invitations without thinking about them first. If your heart jumps when you get an invitation and you KNOW you want to go, then accept that one. But if you feel neutral, give yourself time to check in and see what you really want. You’ll probably be sure of the yeses. Take time to figure out the nos.
Get enough sleep. I have been low on this commodity for quite some time. This week showed me just how detrimental sleep deprivation is to my ability to make decisions. Sleep is necessary. Everything gets muddled when our minds can’t operate at optimum capacity.
Eat when you are hungry. For those of use with eating disorders, this is a serious struggle. And for many others, it’s hard to do, too. Our culture does not show us how meaningful it is to stop and ask ourselves whether or not we are really hungry before we eat. It also advocates “saving up” for the next meal. Why not just eat when we’re hungry? We think better and feel less frantic when fully satisfied. And feeling frantic is not conducive to decision making.
Love yourself, whether or not you think you chose the “right” thing. Enough said.
Remind yourself that every decision can be the right one, that all are equal. If you imagine that every step you take throughout the day is equal, it can be easier to see what you really want. Equality strips away the different weights that society, family, friends, or eating disorders place on things, leaving only what you truly value.

Those are just a few tips from me.

In other news, I baked a cake this week and LOVED it. It was a big hit and reminded me of how much I enjoy the meditative act of baking (and the tasty results!). And Lime-A-Way toilet bowl cleaner is a gift from heaven! Hard water stains GONE—in a flash. That counts as a miracle to me, and we all need those :)

Peace in Chaos

2009-12-25T16:41:00.004-06:00

Chaos. Christmas = chaos. But for the moment, the chaos is outside of me and does not invade my personal space of peace. Last night, however, I felt chaotic inside.

I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately about chaos. Daily, I’m assaulted by thoughts – tons, sometimes repetitive. Many would suggest that this condition could be remedied with medication. In fact, I am finally to the point where I am considering it. I have done so much self-exploration and practice many techniques, but the sheet number and repetitive/distracting nature of the thoughts is bothersome beyond compare.

Christmas festivities in my family typically usher in a reign of chaos. One of my primary objectives during the holidays is to maintain a state of peace within, even though I am usually surrounded by a flurry of activity and distraction. This year, the holidays truly reflect what I have been feeling inside.

I'm longing for a place to relax and settle, to give my full attention to the things I’m interested in. I have so many thoughts, so many creative ideas, but I seem to lack the ability to focus enough to turn those thoughts into anything fruitful. This is the current challenge.

I want to live in the moment, but it’s tiring to be dragged from one thought to the next. I want to grip one idea long enough to follow it through.

For now, though, my main objective is to nurture the peace inside myself. Lots of activity, lots of holiday love, but it can leave me lost. I have to take breaks to stand outside, get some quiet, tap into what I want, and assert my wants and needs. I cannot be embarrassed to do what is right for me, even if it is not like what everyone else is doing. If I need alone time, I need to take it. If I need to exercise, I can. If I need to sit still and rest, I can. I can sleep as late as I need, stay home if I need to skip out on a group activity, or work on things that are important to me even if I think people will call me strange. Usually, no one cares, and everyone is following their own yens, too. It’s up to me to keep the peace inside.

Even here, with my family, without a proper bedroom, on a weekend when I might rather be home, I am doing well. I have been listening to the truths I know and allowing my own leanings today. Yesterday was a different story. I felt trapped and unsure. Events triggered memories of holidays past and brought up anger and anxiety that I didn’t even recognize. Instead of listening to myself and seeing what was happening, I ate to get through the evening. I used food as a distraction and a crutch to make my way through Christmas Eve activities.

Today, I got up and made a new choice. I took time to check in with myself last night and woke up this morning more centered and aware of what I want. I can appreciate the love and enjoy myself without automatically linking celebration to getting what I want food-wise. I have to consciously make the effort.

Today, because I’m more aware of what I want and have taken steps to get it, I can embrace the love around me so much more. I am much more present and able to focus in the midst of the craziness that is my family holiday.

I’m enjoying Christmas now, and I’m also practicing the focused attention I’ve been longing for. Despite rapid-fire thoughts and constant activity around me, I am writing this blog. That’s a feat in itself.

And as an apology for not having posted in many weeks, I’m including a recent recording. Chris Longwood and I were in the studio at Sugar Hill last weekend, where I did several piano recordings along with some more on the guitar. I’m continuing to tweak and am glad to finally share my songs with a larger audience. More gigs to come! And more peace…

Here I Am
http://sites.google.com/site/michellecowandownloads/downloadables/04HereIAm.mp3?attredirects=0&d=1

How I Speak

2009-11-14T18:28:00.004-06:00

I speak through food. Yes, I express myself in MANY other ways, discovering more and more as I grow in eating disorder recovery, but I still speak through food. When I can find no other voice, I use food. I use the cooking of it, the consuming of it, the way I prepare it, the place I go to get it, the time and speed of the process, the specific foods that I select (and do not select), and much more to say the unsayable.

Right now, I am also using food to prevent myself from saying something, to prevent myself from feeling emotions I am afraid to feel. I don’t want to admit that I am anxious about one of my relationships. I don’t want to admit how much I enjoy this relationship and want it to continue. At the same time, I’m embarrassed that I can’t commit 100 percent.

I can’t seem to divorce myself completely from the eating disorder—that and all the other activities and people in my life take up a lot of space that I don’t want to give up, even for something as wonderful as what I currently have with this particular person. It would be nice to have a relationship in which I feel complete abandon—to the extent that I would abandon everything else for it. There’s exuberance and freedom in that. But I have yet to experience that.

The desire to preserve myself and my way of life is healthy. Nonetheless, the part of me that wants to go crazy and run blind, headlong into inticing activities or relationships, is whining a little more than I’m used to. I really wish I could let go this time, but I'm following a familiar pattern.

When I allow my emotions to run wild, two things seem to happen. 1) I do ridiculous things and behave in silly ways, complete with emotions that bewilder me. 2) I find myself eating more frequently, taking more care when ordering food to get EXACTLY what I want, and possibly bingeing in my trademark, methodical way. If I cannot control my emotions, then I must feel in control somewhere else. The default choice is food. When I allow myself freedom in one area, I grip the other (food) more tightly.

But it need not be! I have uncovered the pattern and gained awareness. I don’t need food to make me feel special. I can feel special in a relationship and in other activities. Food is not the only avenue to satisfaction. Realtionships do not mean I have to give up food or my means of expression. I have many ways of communicating my needs. Just because I live in relationship with others does not mean that I discard my desires for theirs. My feelings and needs are equally legitimate and deserving of respect and attention, and I can express them through multiple means, even when food is not an available option. I am a grown-up who needs not fear losing her voice or herself.

I have learned many ways to speak my truth over the years. The fears I have of drowning and enmeshing in another person are unfounded. I demonstrate discernment and self-awareness on a daily basis.

The key is to open my mouth. I have decided to start thinking aloud more often. Sure, this could result in weird looks and confusion, but in more cases, it has already led to greater understanding and connection between me and the people I’m near. If others can hear the thought process that their comments or the situation catalyzes, they can understand where my responses come from.

Often, I think aloud after the fact. I try to explain what I was feeling I behaved a certain way by describing the process that went on inside of me. As the other person hears my story, I become less of a mystery and much more accessible and welcoming toward feedback. I feel much less insane when others indicate that they have felt exactly the same way or done the same things. I’m not so alone in my craziness. I’m closer to normal than I realize.

And when I voice my inner turmoil, I need not speak through the cryptic language of food. Of course, there are times when cooking, eating, ordering, or giving food serve as appropriate expressions of love and other feelings. There is space for that in my life, no doubt. But I don’t have to use food all the time. It need not be my go-to for every issue. I can say what I feel.

It’s time to think aloud. It's time to speak with words, not food.

Giving Up

2009-11-04T23:41:00.003-06:00

I never give up. And I give up all the time. This is one of life’s great paradoxes.

Most people shun the idea of giving in. I often hear my own voice saying things like, “You can’t let go of this one. You can’t give in. Just a little farther. You’ve come this far; don’t give up now. Keep stretching. You can do this. There is enough. You can make it.”

But how many times, for the sake of sanity and happiness, do I also hear, “You can let this one go. Release. Surrender. Loose your grip. Take it easy. Rest now. You are not in control of outcomes; just let go. Give it up. Just give a little.”?

The same phrase, moved into a different context, reframes life and the way I live it. People claim it takes more strength to refuse to relent, to march onward despite aches and pains. For me, however, the endless march comes fairly naturally. Of course, I have plenty of moments when passivity and inaction take hold. But here, I’m focusing on the many, many times when I commit so fully to a task or ideal that I may never release it. I will hold onto it until I see completion.

Certain projects or ways of thinking evolve into monolithic dedications. I devote undue time and resources (internal and external) to “high priority” ideas that seem to have been labeled “high priority” without any cause.

I may decide that, to save money or reduce stress, I will take time every night to make lunch for work the next day. A task that serves as a sort of self-caring convenience can become a monotonous task that my obsessive-compulsive side refuses to relinquish. I will make the lunch every night because I have committed to doing so, even if it’s one in the morning before I get home. Over time, I’m exhausted and resentful of the activity. I want nothing more than to go to bed. But I might continue just because the act provides me safety and the illusion of self-care.

In the past, I also stayed true to certain spiritual ideas for years simply because I had decided at some point that they were true—based on no evidence whatsoever. To realize that I retained beliefs simply because they had been taught to me over and over again stung to the core. I couldn’t imagine life without those beliefs. It took a long time to lay them down and walk forward, even though they caused unfounded guilt, stagnation, confusion, and more. When I finally moved on, I discovered more glorious realities and ideas that I ever could imagine. It takes great faith to leave a kind of faith sometimes.

This same notion applies to former ideas I’ve had about food (good/bad, scary/safe), about what it meant to be a good employee or person, and about all sorts of tasks I’ve had assigned to me on the job or given to me in everyday life.

Oftentimes, when I feel worn down or bored, I discover that I have been striving for perfection in some area of my life. That eternally fruitless quest for an ideal always leads to never-ending projects, feelings, and beliefs that harm me and keep me from doing things I enjoy. Endless pursuits distract me and prevent the growth I truly want.

In those instances, I have to give up. I have to stop fighting the uncomfortable feelings. I have to give up trying to change an unchangeable situation. I have to let go of ideas that bring me supposed comfort but end in pain.

This means I may end up crying for hours in my apartment. I may have to take deep breaths to make it through a tedious or triggering meeting. I may have to admit that I don’t believe what I used to. All of these actions place me square in the middle of a liminal space—a space between, where I have left something behind but have not yet found the new.

For instance, I finally stop moving long enough to feel sad or disgruntled, and then I have to piece together exactly what provoked that emotion. I may even have to formulate an action to satisfy the feelings. I may be just need to accept my tears.

Breathing deeply during a meeting may open up space for me to examine exactly what is making me so uncomfortable. Do I need to say something? Not say something? Work on resentments toward another person? Is it simply that my body needs food or a pit stop?

Leaving old beliefs behind may mean uncertainty about what I believe. To live in that space is to live without explanations, without reasons. This can be hard for know-it-alls like me who appreciate pat statements and decisiveness.

In all of these situations, I give in. I give up something. I let go. I surrender.

However, in all of these situations, I don’t give in. I keep walking. I keep investigating. I keep living.

I give up an old way of living but do not give up living altogether. That is my truth for the day.

New Website

2009-10-25T19:28:00.003-05:00

I'm working on putting together a new website. For now, I'm trying out a Wix flash site. And since I'm super-cheap, I'm using the free version that still has the Wix ads on it. Hey, I want to test drive before I commit.

Anyway, take a look and let me know what you think either by commenting here or sending an email from the contact page of the new site.

Here it is!
www.wix.com/Mickster7/Michelle-Cowan

Get It Out!

2009-10-25T17:49:00.000-05:00

When you need to say something, say it! If something is bottled up inside, you have to get it out. Get it out somehow, even if only by speaking to the wind. If it’s something you long to say to someone else but just can’t, you don’t have to say it to his or her face. You can write it down or have a pretend conversation right there, in your room, in your car, alone. Imagine the reaction if you want. You don’t have to, though. Just speak your peace.

Writing is exceptionally helpful for me. It helps structure my thoughts in a way that makes more sense or is less overwhelming to me. Oftentimes, I feel as though I’m having a thousand thoughts, but when I write them down, they really only amount to four or five.

The danger of my mind is its tendency to loop. Although most of my thoughts are ones I can allow to pass without action, some rise to the surface repeatedly. These are ones that demand expression. If I refuse to recognize or release those thoughts, they remain near the forefront of my consciousness where they travel merry-go-round style until I feel dizzy and confused. A couple of resentments, a brilliant idea or plan, and a few repressed feelings start seeming like an ominous cloud of too-much.

In fact, this loop effect is the basis for my belief (and the opinion of others) that I “think too much.” I do think too much, but the key to resolving this issue is that the thinking often traverses the same territory./ I’m not thinking a multitude of thoughts necessarily, just the same ones over and over, because I have not done anything with them. I experience no freedom until I write them down, sing them out, talk aloud, or confront another individual.

Too many brilliant thoughts have failed to see the light of day because people were afraid others might judge them or think they were weird for having those thoughts. Many intelligent folks are afraid of what actions they may have to take if they voice their ideas. Once something is out in the open, it could go anywhere—in theory.

I’m here to say that step one is to tell your ideas to yourself. Gauge how comfortable you are with the thought and see if you are satisfied leaving it within the confines of your own space. If you are, the insanity may be over.

However, if you still don’t feel completely liberated, it may be time to share your thoughts with another person. (Some prefer to talk to a pet first, but that’s a matter of preference.) This step always brings a new perspective and usually a calm to the situation. Other people’s opinions are often the most feared element of all. To conquer that fear usually means the world—and either ends the painful thought cycle or sparks new actions.

Sometimes, before sharing with someone else, further analysis or organization of the thought is required. I have thoughts so convoluted that I have to turn them into stories or lists. Many of my ideas evolve into songs. People often understand my thoughts much better when release them to the world in a more creative form. They get lost if I just ramble. What’s more—the process of crafting the thought’s expression usually ends the torment of the thought merry-go-round all by itself.

Nonetheless, don’t forget that some thoughts JUST NEED OUT. Sometimes, your job is to say what you feel in the moment. As I have learned to do this, I feel freer and freer. I am more myself. Yes, occasionally, unintentionally offensive things are said or I am completely misunderstood. But I rarely regret speaking my truth in an authentic way.

Like I said in a previous post, I’m learning and practicing new, more tactful ways to put things. The core of the effort is not to delay the speaking of my mind, but to improve my ability to state personal thoughts or feelings in the moment using a means of expression that most accurately conveys my true intention and idea to the listener. I want to get it out but also be understood.

Right now, my moment is here, on my own. I think I have some journaling to do… And then maybe a person to call…

Sample from Sugar Hill

2009-10-10T18:25:00.004-05:00

This morning, I rocked out at Sugar Hill Studios here in Houston, where Chris Longwood recorded eight original songs of mine. I went prepared to do four songs, but we ended up recording live takes instead of isolating vocals and instrumentation. We wrapped up much earlier than expected and with more to take away than I imagined.

I'm happy with the results we achieved in very little time. It's amazing what high-quality equipment can do! (Along with being well-rehearsed beforehand...) Have a listen:

She's Lovely
http://sites.google.com/site/michellecowandownloads/downloadables/01She%27sLovely.mp3?attredirects=0

I hope to build on the tracks we made today, adding harmonies, other instruments, and percussion. Now that I leaped over the hump of my initial anxiety, I feel much more hopeful about creating an album one day in the very near future. I encourage everyone out there to risk doing things you feel inexperienced at. What you learn is worth feeling stupid for a little while.

I seem to expect myself to be an expert in all realms of music, but I'm not. Hiring expertise and remaining teachable proved to be more than worth it.

When Words Are the Problem

2009-10-01T23:39:00.001-05:00

You’d think that, as a writer, I would say, “Words are the solution!” But no. Sometimes—in fact, most of the time—they are the problem.

We have all of these words—all this language—and yet, how many of us actually manage to say what we mean? History is fraught with misunderstandings, he-said-she-said, bogus interpretations, poor phrasing, and flat-out carelessness. Think Shakespeare, think Jane Austen, think Three’s Company.

How many times has the person you’re speaking with heard things you never said? And how many times has adding more words only made a bigger mess?

We communicate via so many channels all of the time. People read body language, pauses between words, eye flickers. We can move and touch each other in ways that communicate infinitely more than twelve pages of writing ever could. Despite the infinite communicative capacity of our bodies, we find ourselves in a world centered on words.

Phones remove faces from conversation; texting goes even further. We have to convey personality with the words and symbols we choose, which often provides an inaccurate reflection of the true emotions at play. We give up very few secrets; whereas, in person, the truth is often easier to detect.

Thank goodness for video on the internet, or else the Web could completely collapse into a tangled scrapheap of words, where real people no longer exist, only language and our fitful attempts to inject tone or personality into the figures we type. The internet is a dangerous place for personal communication.

Regardless of our culture’s ever-growing reliance on virtual communication, I have a difficult enough time expressing myself in person—at least in a way that comes across as intended. Am I a linguistic lummox? I feel so rarely heard and so often like the inflictor of unintentional pain. If I waited until I could think of a perfect way to say something, I’d never say anything. So, unfortunately, what comes out of my mouth often lacks the tact and kindness I envision.

Fie you, words! You always get in the way of what I’m trying to say.

Since I thus far have proved myself unable to bring my on-the-spot speech to the level I desire, I am choosing to cultivate other methods of communication. Although I have greatly improved my ability to say what I mean, it is nowhere near where I would like it. I’ve concluded that verbal communication is something that will only improve with time, growth, and experience. By studying language for years, I’ve topped out on any kind of unnatural progress that could be made.

So if you see me dancing about, gesticulating wildly, touching more people, painting more pictures, making more collages, or using more grunts and squeals than words, you’ll know why. A picture’s worth a thousand words? Well, I’ve heard sighs that say twice as many.

Goals

2009-09-27T18:58:00.000-05:00

At certain times in life, we devote ourselves to a particular goal. Applying for universities, training for a competition, completing a work project, and dealing with family crises require single-minded determination and commitment. I thrive on that kind of direction. As a task-oriented person, I appreciate anything that requires the outlining of steps and a systematic, wholehearted approach. No distractions. Priorities are clear. The actions that are best rise easily and promptly to the surface.

At other times, however, I feel as though I’m wandering aimlessly. I’m not trying to get into school; I’m not recovering from a trauma of any sort. I’m not called upon to help anyone or join an activist movement. I try to think of goals. I meditate and ask for direction, for desire, for guidance toward an area of focus, but I receive nothing.

I don’t necessarily dislike these times. As long as I feel content, goals mean nothing. I do crave a sense of accomplishment and achievement, and that desire eventually leads me to the adoption of a certain goal. I kind of prefer the quiet happiness of a life well lived. In the last few years, I’ve come face to face with how little “success” really matters.

Despite my semi-“enlightened” viewpoint, I can’t shake the feeling that the world looks down upon such aimlessness. Everyone (including a little part of me) expects me to have a purpose, or at least be striving toward the discovery of that purpose. This gets tough, especially now, as I look back upon many months, months that have turned into years, rather sparsely decorated with goal achievement of any kind.

Then again, I do see some of the goals I reached. To my ego’s dismay, most of those goals have been quite personal and internal, like overcoming fears, learning to love, appreciating the gifts of depression, and many times, just getting through the day. No one sees those. I don’t get paid any money or get many pats on the back for those things. It’s hard to build up that sense of accomplishment with intangibles (no matter how valuable they may be).

Now, I’m 27 years old. I’m considering returning to graduate school, but I don’t know what I want to study. Art history? Curatorial/museum studies? Comparative religion? Anthropology? I’m not sure. Do I want to move? Where? Do I want to change careers? How much effort do I want to put into music? Do I want to pursue it passionately? Do I need to complete the building of my own web site? Do I want to do more freelance editing and writing? How much time should I put into dance? What about my spiritual activities? What do I want to do?

With such a mountain of choices, I can’t think. I can’t pick one. Or rather, I don’t pick one. Instead, I slip in and out of each interest, knowing that if I commit to one, it would flourish. But I feel stymied in the face of decision “Just choose!” I tell myself – yes, in a very demanding tone. Unfortunately, that kind of pressure only makes it more difficult.

How do I escape the pressure from the world and within to strive after a particular goal? If the pressure were released, I have no doubt that my most authentic desires would take hold, and I could pursue something in a directed way.

How?

Focus on now, and focus on the goals I know I have: I want to love as best I can and accept love with grace. I want to bring my true self to the fore in all areas of life and remain honest in a kind way. I want to enjoy each moment to the fullest and share that joy with others. I want to walk through fear.

Those goals feel a little vague to me. Perhaps they need some refining to help me direct my energy. I’ll do that… probably. In the meantime, I see that if I can focus on those credos, I can have a happy life. I can feel accomplished. I can bring light to the world. It’s about affirming to myself that no yardstick that would dare measure me provides any kind of accurate estimate of my worth. It’s enough to simply love and enjoy life.

Still, that desire for accomplishment lingers. Can I trust that focusing on my more eternal goals will lead me toward authentic choices and a satisfying life path? I’m not sure if I even like the idea of a path! With me, the questions never end.

Nonetheless, I advocate choosing. Just choose. I still want to pick something to pursue. I want to love something enough that I’m willing to commit to my choice for more than a day. This skipping around between goals is wearing me down.

Maybe I need to bring my broader life goals back more firmly into consciousness. Maybe instead of asking for direction and looking for an answer in my quiet hours, I can meditate on the goals I already know I have, the truly important goals.

Ah, that sounds satisfying. That sounds like new way I haven’t tried yet. The key always seems to be perspective. Look at the issue in a new way, and the doors can fly open. We shall see. For now, I’m still learning to value the meandering trajectory as much as the beeline.

Miss Independent

2009-09-13T18:16:00.000-05:00

What happens when a woman, surrounded by reminders of her strength as an individual and who highly values her sense of independence, realizes that she doesn’t want to be quite so independent anymore?

Answer: A wrestling match.

Two sides of me are wrestling, battling it out. Although independence is one thing everyone can depend on me for, I want something else. I want to share, too. I don’t want to lose my individuality, but I want to experience the joys of merging more with the people I care about. I want to feel engrained in the lives of others, or at least one other person, and for them to feel a part of mine. Perspectives broaden when moments are shared, when visions are exchanged, when authenticity reigns supreme.

I want more of that joy, yet I want to grow in my own way. I don’t want to get caught up solely in the interests of another human being or for people to cling to me and ride my coat tails. I want to branch out freely according to my own path and let my deepest seed spring to life.

But I also want to experience that kind of growth with someone else. I want to get a little wrapped up in the cares and concerns of someone else. I want to tell someone about my journey and hear about hers or his, too. That would broaden me.

So I wrestle. I try to hang on to my free time and try to do things that stretch me while holding the deep desire to be with someone else and participate in life with him or her. I spend time with other people while making sure to assert my own opinions and ask if we can together share the growth experiences I could engage in solo.

Until I find a balance, I’ll feel the tension. There must be tension to build up new parts of me. Until harmony is achieved, I’ll simply be grateful to experience something I haven’t ever really had in my life.

I suddenly want to share my life, in a genuine, actionable way. The notion of sharing a life is no longer, for me, a hypothetical exercise. I honestly desire a kind of merge. I don’t want to jump into foolhardy codependency, but neither do I want to remain at arm’s length. I’ve experienced much of the world alone. What would it be like to experience it with a second set of eyes, or at least with someone to tell the story to at the end of the day?

All Work and No Play...

2009-09-07T18:44:00.002-05:00

Hooray for Labor Day! If you are working and are not required to by your place of employment, STOP. Enjoy the day. The to-do list will never be completed; the inbox will never empty. Let it go for one day, please.

I’m not even going to work to think of a “deeper” post. All I’m going to say is that I’m very grateful for friends and family, especially for people who take the time to accept and care about others (including me) just as they are. It feels good to be patiently loved. Thank you.

Energy Use and Disappointment

2009-08-29T20:13:00.000-05:00

Some people come into my life, use my energy, and don’t understand that it takes time for me to recover. I need reboot time, and other people seem to be either better at recharging or in less need of it. I wish more people were sensitive to the fact that I need a significant amount of downtime to rest, think my own thoughts, and then reenter the world with a full tank of creative energy.

Right now, I need to focus on embracing my need for rest and not feeling guilty when I have to (or simply want to) turn down social invitations in favor of introspective time. When I am unable to do things I enjoy because my mood or physical condition leads me toward something else I enjoy, I feel guilty. I feel guilty for missing out on personal growth opportunities or fun experiences. And I feel doubly guilty if someone may have been let down by my decision.

This smells a lot like people pleasing to me. I’m trying to please imaginary “perfect Michelle” and everyone else around me instead of listening to my heart, mind, and body. It’s time to give up and be honest with people, admitting what I want and how I feel. I have no choice at this point. I can only be me. I tried for so long to be someone else, but this is, in fact, who I am.

Although I love going out and having a good time, I also need a lot of quiet. Additionally, I want to consciously forgive those who seem to steal my energy so that I can start drawing better boundaries for myself based on what I know I can or want to handle.

It’s a process. When I focus on not “missing out” or not disappointing anyone, I run myself into the ground with constant activity—emotional or physical. After a few complete burnouts, I get the message. It’s time to recharge and reassess my own desires and limits.

Space for Change

2009-08-23T20:00:00.001-05:00

Let’s take a minute to acknowledge ourselves exactly where we are and as we are. Take a breath and accept that. Now, revel in it; realize that we are where we are for a reason and that we are all connected to each other.

Now, let’s look objectively (as objectively as possible) at our lives and the patterns in them. What do we keep doing that we don’t like? What are we doing that we do like? Are there things we want to change? And are we ready to change them?

I used to ignore that last question. My degree of readiness didn’t matter. If something needed changing, I required myself to change it ASAP. If I ended up not changing or realizing that I was incapable of change in that instance, I beat myself up. And if I did manage to change myself or the situation, but the result did not live up to my expectations, I gave myself a mental lashing for that, too.

Of course, my actions and changes rarely met the standard I had set, resulting in a perpetual cycle of shame. Today, I am starting to look at things differently.

I have been taught over the last few years to look at myself and my life without judgment. The way I am now is the way I am meant to be. Sure, future choices can move me in different directions, but the forces that brought me to where I am deserve to be acknowledged. All of my perceived flaws, all the hang-ups, the confusion, the circumstances beyond my control, and also the successes and good fortune, need to be appreciated if I want to see myself as a whole human being.

Once I have assessed these portions of myself and this life, I can understand where I am rather than judge it. Only then can I see if I am ready to change or not. By respecting my feelings, I can allow myself to hang back and not change now and then, especially when I’m not quite sure exactly what action to take. I must ask myself why I think I need to change and see whether my answer comes from a loving place or old, misguided beliefs that still hang around in my brain.

The greatest tool I have found in catalyzing change has come to light during the moments when I think I need to change but have a stubborn part of me that doesn’t want to. This emotional situation will often confuse me, and I begin wondering why I don’t do the things I clearly want to do. Why does a part of me hold back the rest of me that wants to grow?

The key to these moments is asking for willingness to change. I also see this as asking for a space to open up that will allow change to come. I don’t have to enact the change. Perhaps my divided desires indicate that I shouldn’t be the actor. Rather, I need to position myself as a vessel for change.

When I feel stuck, I can ask for a space to be opened up inside of me where innovative ideas can form, new desires can develop, and external change can creep in. Sometimes, the answer to this request comes as an unexpectedly free time slot on my schedule. Other times, it’s a person or thing that shows me a new perspective or way of being. And still other times, my desires quite literally change on their own in time, without me doing anything but asking.

We all wish we did certain things better, but why not seek to understand the reasons behind our current patterns before attempting to change? Perhaps where we think we want to be isn’t where we are headed at all. Instead of continually determining to enact change on ourselves and the world around us, we need to invite change in from time to time.

Speaking Our Minds

2009-08-16T17:08:00.002-05:00

How do we balance the expression of our authentic selves with the desire to be kind to other people? Honesty must be tempered with thoughtfulness if we are to live truly satisfying lives. Sure, I would love to run around saying anything and everything on my mind, but I also value the people around me, especially my friends.

If we err too much in one direction, we say nothing at all or fall into people pleasing. We may say things we don’t mean because we think we know what the other person wants to hear. If we can’t determine what the “appropriate” response should be, then we say nothing at all. I’d say that most people who are out of balance fall into this category. Human beings are built for community and often seek to preserve it even at personal cost.

This can be good. Sometimes, it serves no benefit to irk another person just because we have a differing opinion or we notice something that might irritate that person. But many times, valuable points of view are suppressed out of politeness or fear of rocking the boat or embarrassment. We all have to learn, at some point in our lives, that our individual voices matter. We must step out and say what we are thinking. We must risk hurting another to be honest.

We have to do these things or our personal feelings will stay bottled up inside until there is no room for any more repression. That’s when negative physical and mental conditions surface. It may take psychotherapy or another transformative experience (usually a combination) to move us into a healthier means of expression, where we assert our voices without deliberating too much on the repercussions of others. We can only sweep our side of the road. We cannot control the thoughts or feelings of others. It’s time to speak for ourselves.

However, oftentimes, after that transformative moment when we start learning new ways of expressing ourselves, the formerly repressed person can err too much in the other direction, where we can thoughtlessly speak our minds and ignore the consequences. Of course, there are people who naturally start out at this other end of spectrum, too.

At this end, we say what we feel in the midst of whatever company might be around. We believe in the value of our speech. Healthy self esteem can be at play here, but there is a point at which we can alienate or unintentionally hurt someone else. We may also spend too much time talking without reserving space to hear other perspectives.

Because the power that lies within each human being is a fascinating and exhilarating thing, especially when discovered inside oneself, people can become someone addicted to the rush of adding personal opinions to every conversation. If emerging from a repressed state, self-expression can require such a concerted effort and feel so foreign that an individual may still doubt s/he is expressing her/himself enough, even if that person is really going overboard. Because of this doubt, some cross the line into offense.

To be able to speak one’s mind, the constant worry about other people’s feelings needs to be lessened—but not eliminated. Self-expression should not be restricted simply because we fear we might offend someone. We have no way of knowing what might offend other people. But I believe that there are situations in which we can make educated guesses. The key is slowing down.

I must admit that I am quite familiar with the route from tight-lipped people pleaser to quick tongued attention seeker. I enjoy expressing myself and value my own opinion, but I have to balance this with an appreciation of other people’s expressions and a respect for their points of view. I am likely to say something shocking for mere entertainment value without considering the wounds it could cause in certain members of my audience.

I will never encourage someone to stifle their thoughts and not speak up when they feel like it. But I do advocate slowing down before responding and asking one to three questions before opening one’s mouth:
1. Will what I’m saying probably hurt someone?
2. Will I probably be hurt more by not saying this?
3. Is there a way to say this that will lessen the hurt for both me and the person (or people) this could hurt?

Notice that number one does not read, “Could what I’m saying hurt someone?” Anything could hurt anyone at anytime without us knowing it. People who tend toward quietness often overthink the likelihood that they will hurt someone else, almost always concluding that their words could hurt. Yes, they could. But the first question above asks if it would probably hurt—and that does not mean offend, but truly hurt. We can all distinguish this in most cases. Most of the time, what we say probably won’t hurt, and we can speak freely. On the other hand, we’ve all been in situations where we know that something we want to say requires a second look. That’s when we move to question two.

There are times when I will hurt more by not speaking up than the other person will hurt if I speak. If someone else needs to hear what I have to say, even if it hurts them at first, I can speak. I do not have to live knowing that I kept silent when I could have brought something important to light. Think of all the people who have written articles or made speeches that they knew would offend others (such as many vocal speakers in civil rights movements). Yes, they offended some people. But the need to say the things on their minds outweighed the hurt that may have occurred.

We can also reduce this to smaller issues. Do I really need to tell so-and-so that her lipstick color is completely inappropriate for the occasion and does not flatter her skin tone? I may take great pride in knowing the best color combinations and being at the height of fashion. So-and-so may need to know this to avoid future embarrassment. Some people wouldn’t mind having an on-the-spot consultation. But we all know people who would be crushed to know that they don’t look as beautiful as they thought. Even in seemingly casual things, we need to take the other person into account. Just because we might not care if someone told us something like that doesn’t mean that our more sensitive friends might not be crushed in that moment. We have to take into account the situation (party or private dinner, crowd or one-on-one) and the person (Do they need this information for the future, and can I even determine if they do?).

If it seems like the person would be significantly hurt by what I have to say, but I still feel a drive to say it, I can move to question three. Can I rephrase my thoughts? I don’t have to spout of the first line that comes to my head. I can mitigate the hurt. I can even see where my statement might be taken incorrectly and figure out a way to say it that will make my true meaning more apparent.

Personally, my first inclination is often to say the most shocking, bluntest thing. Being frank often garners the most attention, and that’s what I want if I feel that what I have to say is important.

However, there are times to smooth the edges. If I am honest with myself, I can often see that the bluntest way of saying something could be misread a million different ways. If I can simply be clearer, I can avoid hurting those I care about…and even those I don’t.

As my mom likes to say, “There’s a fine line between being honest and being a bitch.”

Anyway, not everyone needs this advice. Many people are completely capable of balancing their own need for expression with the needs of others. For some of us, though, we need some coaching before we can naturally feel out situations. I know that with email especially, sentences can be combed over a dozen times and the virtue of hitting the send button can be contemplated ad nauseam. Sometimes, words can be sent as-is, without another thought. Other times, those words may need some reworking. And in many instances, the send button can be avoided altogether.

Good luck in your eternal pursuit of balance. I’m working on mine for sure!

Safely Connected

2009-08-05T18:49:00.000-05:00

Human beings are all connected as one. We all came from the same stuff, and we will all return to it. Yet we exist in separate bodies; to some extent, we are independent creatures.

But it fascinates me how useless many of us feel when the things we do are not visible to other people. I have a need inside of me to show other people the things I create, the acts I perform, and even the thoughts in my head. I want to share and be understood, even though both of those things are sometimes impossible.

Perhaps we are all aware of each other’s secret acts to some degree, but not consciously. And so we feel disconnected. For me, when I feel set too far apart, I start trying to connect by calling people and sharing feelings, by getting out and being around people, or by doing or making something for someone else. I try to put myself in the same space as others or in a place that will be connected to them at some point so that I feel less alone.

What happens when life limits my abilities? What happens when I start relying on fewer and fewer social outlets? Suddenly, I’m highly dependent on one or two people for support of many kinds. This feels dangerous to me. I don’t trust anyone enough to limit the extent of my trust to a single person.

The desire for a broad social net seems healthy to me. It must be best to maintain a chorus of different voices in my life, rather than one lone tone. I don’t need the same perspective every time I need to share something. I need a variety of opinions and ways of being to keep me better-rounded. There is no one right way to be. There are many, and I need regular exposure to them.

But what if I’m tired? What if I can’t seem to reach out to anyone except a couple of people? I feel scared in those times. I wonder if others are forgetting about me or if I’m wise to trust the few people I have let in. I wonder when I will feel energetic enough to get out there and broaden the circle again. I worry about it.

To battle this, I must return again and again to the notion of living in the present. I only know this moment, now. And perhaps, now, I feel tired and need rest. Now, I have certain people in my life, and now, I will love them as best I can. I will love others as they venture in and out of my spectrum. I am safe with one hundred friends, with five, and with none. I am safe. Whether I know it or not, I’m connected to everyone and can tap into that power whenever I want to.

The main thing is to live in faith, not fear, and to love those I can. That’s it. If my life constructs a certain group of people around me, I can accept it and move within that, even changing it if necessary. But I do it slowly, moment by moment, as I am able.

Never think your social circle is less or more than it should be. Just concentrate on the individual relationships and how you would like them to grow or fade right now. Everything else is overwhelming and results from worry about the future or about what other people think. If we nurture what we have and what we are interested in, things will fall into place, and we will feel loved. I believe that and wish it for all of you.

Safe Love

2009-07-19T14:31:00.000-05:00

Where does love meet self-preservation? When does a relationship become too much for me? How do I balance my desire to help another with my own needs?

Some call it loving with limits. But for a romantic like me, who prefers a limitless view of love, it’s easier for me to call it loving safely.

Thinking about true love as a safe love helps me to not put up too-thick barriers of self-protection. I don’t have to be in defense mode all the time, on guard against all the people that could potentially hurt me. Relationships are complicated and difficult. I’m going to get hurt occasionally. I don’t want to hang myself up on that reality and block myself off from deep connection in an attempt to ward off pain.

Instead of living a mistrustful life and avoiding any potential complications, I can enter into relationships with open eyes and make decisions based on the safety of everyone involved. If I start realizing that I don’t have the internal or external resources to deal with the issues someone else brings into my life, I need to back off and/or tell the other person that it has become too much for me. I have to be even more in touch with myself than with the other person.

When I think about my relationship choices in terms of safety, backing off, breaking up, or having difficult conversations seem like less hurtful actions. I’m not blaming; I’m not running scared. I’m not being inconsiderate or self centered. I’m doing what’s best for everyone involved. I’m trying to love in the best way I know how, and that could take the form of limiting the amount or nature of contact I have with someone.

A relationship is never worth spiraling myself into peril. Facing fears is different than putting myself in danger, and communication is often the key to deciphering which category a particular situation falls into. I can acknowledge my fears or doubts and even discuss them with the other person most of the time before making any rash decisions. If I think that things we are doing or habits we have with each other are putting one or both of us in potential jeopardy, I can say so. I don’t have to keep my mouth shut to preserve positive feelings.

When I have engaged people I care about in these difficult kinds of conversations, one or both of the following usually occurs: 1) the relationship grows more intimate; or 2) I learn something meaningful about myself and humanity. Number two is a guaranteed result, as long as I’m paying attention. Number one is a bonus. Other relationships have to end or change in significant ways.

For today, I am listening to my friends’ problems, hearing their joys, and staying involved as much as I can. But I am also honoring my need for rest, for introspective time alone, and for safe distance from potentially harmful behavior. My goal is safety, my shield is awareness, and my sword is honesty. May I fight the honorable and loving fight.

Tribute to my Grandma

2009-07-06T18:04:00.005-05:00

As requested in her journal, I offer the song "Wayfaring Stranger" in memory of my grandma, who passed away on July 4, 2009.

(Turn up the volume.)

Imagination and Pumpkin Water

2009-07-03T18:26:00.001-05:00

Okay, orange water is coming out of my faucets, and loud, vacuum-like sounds vibrate up from my neighbor’s apartment. A small but strong man in jeans and a sweaty tee-shirt keeps walking in and out of her front door, and a rectangular contraption sits just outside the entry with hook-ups that suggest it may have been connected to a water supply of some sort. Without a thorough knowledge of plumbing (or any large-scale household maintenance activity), I can piece together a vague storyline, all of which culminates in tangerine-colored bathwater. Fortunately, only the hot water appears pigmentally afflicted; not all temperatures could hope to be as lucky.

Anyhow, the actual sequence of events probably differs from my invention, but reality doesn’t really matter, as long as my water clears up shortly after the small but strong man finishes his work. Only if the watercolor display continues will I have to investigate the truth. Until then, this scenario and my way of coping with it reflects how I interact with life.

I try to make sense of things. Something happens, and I try to make it work within my ideas of “sense.” If what happens does not fit my beliefs or ideas, my brain tries to frame it in a story that seems rational inside the world my mind creates. All day long, my brain takes in countless amounts of information and processes it in a way that will jive with the world as I see it. It leaves out most of the things that would rock my boat and fits a portion of everything else into spaces that I can digest without going insane.

I can’t help but wonder what I might be missing out on. What am I seeing that does not make it to my consciousness? And how can I open up my mind a little bit more so that I can see opportunities and miracles my brain instinctively closes off from me?

The key, for me, is imagination. I’ve said for quite some time that my greatest potential gift to the world is my thought life. I have wonderful thoughts, but I agonize over my inability or lack of motivation to do anything with them. Thankfully, just having the thoughts might be enough.

Our thoughts shape our reality. And I also believe thoughts are catching. Listen to anything about quantum physics, and you’ll find that science agrees. All of us are passing thoughts, ideas, and information back and forth all the time.

My explanation of the pumpkin-colored water is just as meaningful as the “real” explanation. My theory may not correspond with actual events, but it has value in that it gives me peace and allows me to navigate through my day. For my neighbor, the events as she knows them are enabling her to make choices that help her make it to evening-time as well.

The more I live, the more life appears to be about opening up and admitting that I don’t know. Maybe there are things I think I know and things that help me survive and enjoy life, but unless I stay open to the idea that I could be wrong, I close myself off to infinite numbers of opportunities and experiences.

It can be so hard to admit that I might not know certain things. Letting go of firmly held beliefs can elicit extreme fear and worry; the more tightly held the belief, the higher the emotional intensity of releasing it. But for every belief I have laid down in favor of investigating the world, the spirit, and other people, I have gained multitudes more in adventure, excitement, and peace. At first, letting go of my way and my life feels like ripping away any hope of tranquility. But it has never taken long to see that, really, leaving my expectations behind tears down walls that hide vast, colorful worlds of potential.

I can’t count the number of people I might never have seen, places I may never have visited, ideas I may never have learned, or loves I may never have felt had I not relinquished my expectations. Each experience of letting go paves the way for newness to come in and old habits to fall away.

I return to imagination. For much of my life, my imaginative spirit was shrugged off or patronized as a cute, childlike attribute, but now I see it as an incredible asset. With the ability to imagine life as anything, I have experienced more than anyone could have told me I would. No one can describe all of the different places life could take me, but I can imagine a million. It doesn’t matter if the events as I imagine them could actually occur. By imagining my dreams, I put myself on a path toward realizing them, in whatever form they are able to materialize. I am not hemmed in by the experiences of those before me.

Foster the imagination of children. These days, the world spoon-feeds them so many ideas that they forget how to play and think and conjure possibilities for themselves. Do not shun thinking or dreaming as wastes of time. If we get too caught up in doing, we’ll end up doing the same things over and over again. As humans, we require imagination time to envision other ways of being. Daydreaming is essential.

So, back to the orange water. The noise has stopped. I check my sink. The water is back to normal. Does it matter how it cleared up? Does it matter what changed its hue in the first place? What if I had come home later today, long after the small but strong man left, and never experienced the faucet’s suspiciously rusty output? Mostly, it matters that my water has returned to a drinkable state. I got here, regardless of how.

And my life is the same. I can see where I want to be and perhaps not know how I will get there. But if I open myself up to anything, I’ll see more avenues toward that vision than I would if I walked around with “my way” blinders on.

It’s a pretty general idea, and I apply it to relationships, life goals, work projects, creative endeavors, spirituality, travel, anything! Never devalue imagination; just because what you think of may not match reality doesn’t make your thoughts worthless. Your thoughts carry you to the real things that will transport you to your destiny.

Rockin' at Bohemeo's

2009-07-03T17:50:00.001-05:00

Bohemeo’s rocked on Wednesday! Thank you to everyone who attended. We had a blast. I can’t wait to share more music and stories with other audiences soon. Kimberly Magill touched and challenged my heart and mind, as always. James Price engaged and entertained us all with his heartfelt songwriting and performance. And I wasn’t too shabby either ;)

See you all next time! And check out Bohemeo’s on Houston's east end for a cozy, artistic atmosphere where you can nourish yourself with conversation, music, art, coffee, or a mean portobello panini. It was a great venue to perform in.

Bohemeo's July 1st

2009-06-23T20:25:00.003-05:00

Come one! Come all!

Need for Speed

2009-06-20T12:19:00.000-05:00

Since I was young, speed always attracted me more than other “risky” endeavors. I wanted to fly down the alley on my bicycle, not pop wheelies or jump ramps. Just give me the wind in my hair and the road passing too quickly under me. For some reason, riding fast makes me feel more in control than navigating tricky obstacles. I always preferred running to more overtly technical sports like basketball or soccer. Granted, my affinity for more race-like activities probably owed itself in part to a general lack of coordination (required in most team-centered athletics), but there is something more to it.

In life, I want to retain some sense of control. I will make sure that the road ahead doesn’t contain any unexpectedly large potholes. I tune up my bike. I pick roads I’ve traversed before. And then, I go fast. I speed through it with the highest efficiency, nimble but safe. Once I know where I want to go and clear an acceptable trajectory, I take off, judging success by the swiftness of the journey to my anticipated goal.

Of course, in life, the ending location never quite matches my initial picture, and I often end up having to veer off my intended route. I am resistant to diverting from my original, carefully planned course. I sometimes don’t trust life to turn out okay if I don’t map it out and rush through it, even though I have accumulated years of evidence that things do work out. It’s like I think that that way to live life is to smooth out the path I desire and then hurry down it before the storms come and erode the terrain. How’s that for leaving no room for miracles?

Speed can be great. It’s fulfilling for me to drive my car as fast as possible down roads where one would be wiser to exert extra caution. But on the other hand, I don’t want to pass by the people who need help on the side of the road or never notice the interesting sights that abound in this world of ours. But if my velocity demands my total attention, I’ll never catch the beauty in the periphery.

Instead of flying down the alley, I’d like to take the occasional, random trip down an unknown path, where I can’t pedal quickly but might meet terrain that holds infinitely more treasure than the path I leveled for myself. It’s time to let life move around me and go with the flow instead of trying to direct every move. It’s time to work a bit at navigating challenging courses instead of improving on my latest time trial. Conquering technicalities can give the same rush as blazing speeds. Let it go.

Out of Whack

2009-06-16T18:47:00.000-05:00

Can you remember times in your life when the universe seemed to align—when the world outside, the world inside, your body, and your desires all walked together in synchronicity? Now is not one of those times. Not for me.

It feels as though the world is handing me things faster than I can take them while my body aches for rest and my heart wants everything and nothing at the same time. When a few spare moments float to the surface, I like to sit and be quiet, asking for some direction, some peace about life. The truth is, I prefer a slower pace. When things move so quickly that I can practically feel the breeze their momentum creates, it’s time to take a step back. When my to-do lists grow longer and more complicated, I have to throw them away. I have to trust that the important things will rise to the surface.

However, this has always been difficult for me. Especially now, I genuinely want to accomplish every single task and aspiration I’ve noted on colored post-its and affixed to my coffee table/work area. So many exciting opportunities, interests, and burgeoning abilities to choose from. Can I find a happy medium between throwing in the towel and pursing these line items to the point of overwhelming my mind, body, and schedule?

The key is doing one thing at a time and remembering the downside of multi-tasking. If I’m doing three things at once, I’m doing nothing as well as I could. It’s often more efficient to tackle one thing at a time because my mind can fully focus on the task at hand and complete it far more quickly. I can apply this to small things (eating, answering emails, cleaning, and doing work for my job) as well as to the pursuit of large-scale goals.

For instance, I can decide to work on my website a little bit tonight. I don’t have to decide what my entire online package will be. I can just work on a single page tonight. If that’s too vague or too much, I can decide to exclusively find the images I’m going to use on a few pages and upload them. Instead of thinking about the friends/contacts/mentees/associates I need to call as a giant entity I care so much about and can so easily let down, I can decide to reply to one email or make one outreach call. Simplification is often key for me.

But still, my body, mind, and outside world feel all out of kilter. What does my soul think? Can it possibly draw these disparate pieces together? Can slowing down fix this issue? Perhaps not. I am learning so much in so many areas; maybe none of these parts of me know quite how to continue operating. I certainly can’t be the person I was before I gained the knowledge I’m now gaining. I can’t make the world revert back to how it was before I had responsibilities, opportunities, or various hardships. I must start walking from this point, even if everything else is out of step at first.

So I guess the essential truth here is to take one step at a time, in whatever I encounter or go through, in any area of life. Just keep stepping. And I guarantee that I will also be lying down, closing my eyes, and crying out for guidance in the stillness.

Our Little Worlds

2009-06-05T22:45:00.000-05:00

Today, I listened to a story on This American Life about a woman who hd collected dozens of books over the years, all inscribed with dedications from loved ones. However, every dedication had been written in her own hand… and most were addressed from relatives who were no longer living at the time of the supposed signing. A mixture of thoughts came up about this. Certainly, a certain sadness surrounds her actions, but a hopefulness, too. Instead of pity or puzzlement, I primarily felt amazement at her creativity.

Personally, this sounds like something I would do. Why not imagine that people I once knew cared enough about me to give me books I truly would enjoy? Thinking of what they might say, what I’d want them to say, and the difference between the two would be very revealing. It is very revealing—an unanswerable quandary worth examining.

A second story concerned a woman who periodically quits whatever job she has in order to take care of her children, who she raises by herself. Sometimes, when she needs to return to work again, it takes months to find employment. She built a whole strategy behind looking for work, including how long to wait before she stops being picky and takes whatever job becomes available (60 days).

Do many people do this: quit jobs without having another one in their back pocket? It seems like an incredible feat to me, even though I realize that people do it all the time. It makes me wonder if I should quit my job, thereby pushing myself into a position where I have to make music, write, and be creative in other ways to make ends meet. Pushed myself into that corner strikes me as something romantic and exciting. I hope the creative juices would be forced out, and my energies could be channeled into areas I never considered before.

I have considered the quitting and blazing a new trail option many times. Just quit, I tell myself, and see what happens. I’ll have to pay the rent, so I will pay the rent. I’ll need to make money. But how? A way would emerge.

Will I one day be brave enough to step out on that ledge? Could I cope with a life without as much security as I have now? Part of me doubts it—mostly because I’ve proved how insane (for lack of a better word) I tend to become without external structures. It gets very difficult for me to live outside any set boundary or even to adhere a framework of my own creation.

Or am I not trusting in how much I’ve grown and my own abilities? What if I fully trusted myself? Do you fully trust yourself to live without a paycheck or a job to go to most days of the week? Many of you live that way. How do you feel about it? Where do your structures come from? Do you need any?

I have no idea how healthy my current thoughts and propensities in this area really are. One day, I will back myself into a corner if that’s what I want. But I’d rather find innovative ways to start shining right now, in the midst of my cushy bimonthly-paycheck-inclusive life.

But so much potential exists—in me and in every individual. How can we find the circumstances under which we will flourish and grow? Can we find the courage to look? Or will they come on their own? Is it about trying anything and everything? Is it about removing expectations and figuring out how to “show up” for life? What happens if we don’t “show up”?

Is the act of writing a dedication to yourself of the same value as a book inscribed with someone else’s writing? Is working creatively within the bounds you currently have equally important as reaching beyond boundaries and finding new places to thrive? I can only pray for avenues of expansion to appear and for me to have the motivation and bravery to walk down them. I pray the same for you.

Your Encouragement Means the World

2009-05-31T17:57:00.000-05:00

Thank you, thank you, to those who attended the evening of art last night. Because of you, it was a glorious evening I am thrilled to have been a part of. We will host another before the summer is out. Of course, if any of you would like to host an arts event at your home or venue like the reading/concert held on Saturday, please let me know. It’s a joy to perform/share my heart with you. I can’t tell you how much your support means to me.

I am also feeling prompted to commit to recording a demo before the summer ends. I have no idea whether this is possible at this point, but I am putting it out there. Thank you to everyone for your encouragement.

Hope, Honesty, Curiosity, and Love

2009-05-31T17:56:00.001-05:00

Never underestimate hope, honesty, curiosity, or love. When in doubt, choose one of those.

Hope. Some would say that hope is weak, that a person should do more than just hope. As long as ideas, dreams, and desires remain hopes, they remain unreal. But I counter that sometimes hope is all we have.

While individuals like the homeless desperately need food and shelter, they also need hope. Without regular reminders of life’s potential goodness, how will the disadvantaged feel motivated to pursue anything? How can a person strive for something they have never been made aware of? People in difficult circumstances many times do not have the access, knowledge, or mental/physical capacity, to actively make life changes. But if they have hope, at least their lives can be a little more bearable right now, until the appropriate access, knowledge, or help does come along.

Honesty. Relationships hinge on honesty. I don’t feel clean and free unless I am fully myself, not hiding anything. As long as I hold back something that needs to be said, I only partially express myself. Honesty means more than telling the truth about events or feelings; it’s about being one’s true self at all times.

I want to live my life without the need to hide anything. To achieve this, I will spend less time worrying about what other people think and more time saying the things that get caught between my heart and my lips. I can also respect who other people are and cherish it when they share honestly with me. Honesty breeds honesty, which leads to deeper, more fulfilling relationships. Disagreements I often avoid can lead to meaningful meetings of the minds.

Curiosity. I can usually infuse any emotion I’m feeling with curiosity and get a beneficial outcome. It’s as simple as asking questions. Say I feel afraid. Instead of cowering or trying to escape, I can ask, “What do I fear? Why do I fear that? What belief is generating this response? Can I let go of that belief?” If angry or resentful, I can ask, “Who am I angry with? Am I angry with myself? Is there something I can create with this anger? Is there something that needs to be said?”

Asking questions usually yields more fulfilling results than yelling at someone or sending a nasty email. Practicing curiosity helps me become a better listener and learner as well as fostering an increasing understanding of myself and others.

Love. All of the above open us up to loving more and better. When we catch a glimpse of the bright side, we can share that with others. We can grow love as a community through shared hope.

Honesty uncovers buried layers in people, allowing us to appreciate the hidden treasures in ourselves and others. By committing to honesty, we become more courageous and free to do all the loving acts we’ve always dreamed of.

And curiosity helps us find love in unexpected places. By remaining inquisitive toward the world, we see love where we thought only resentment existed.

Choosing to love can seem daunting. Sometimes, I need to choose one of the other three in order to make it there. It’s always worth it.

Swap the Thought

2009-05-23T16:23:00.001-05:00

Advice. There are few things I react more strongly to than the advice of others. I never want to take it! I instantly think I know better and assume the person could not see things from my complex point of view. It’s especially insulting when the advice-giving party offers suggestions I’ve already considered myself. Does s/he not think I’m smart enough to figure this out on my own?

Of course, this completely backfires when I find myself in situations I am not at all smart enough to figure out. Countless times, I find, to my dismay, that I am not strong or knowledgeable enough to accomplish a task set before me. Questions confuse me. I am physically unable to move an object or get to a certain place. I may simply lack knowledge of a location or subject. All of these circumstances require that I ask for help. My tendency to put off asking for help until the last, most dire moment, has made for more than one stressful evening.

Can I let my armor down? Can I trust the goodness of people? This is the challenge. I can no longer look simply at my instantaneous, almost unconscious rejection of help when it is offered. I can no longer sit and puzzle over why I would beg for help in my prayers and in my home alone and then deny the need for it when with other people. I must examine my mistrust of human beings in general.

In the past, people let me down fairly regularly. Indeed, I have dealt with many individuals who were not as smart, responsible, or creative as I am. Unfortunately, those interactions made more of an impression on me than the times I received extraordinary help or met people whose intelligence, strength, awareness, and artistry exceeded mine. I want to recall more of the satisfying, uplifting interpersonal encounters in my life.

This is the new project: Meditate on the best social interactions I’ve had in my life. Examine what made them so great. A large portion of those memories involve me receiving help. Oftentimes, I’m simultaneously giving help without even knowing it, but I want to concentrate on the gifts I’ve received rather than what I give. By filling my thoughts with and directing my focus toward the positive traits of others, I’m more likely to tap into the positive qualities of the people I know today. If I can more easily recall times when people have come through for me, the instinct to reject others lessens.

At least, this is the theory. I base it on the fact that I know a vast number of wise, creative, street smart, genuinely helpful people. None of them think I’m stupid, but all of them would assist me if I needed it and they were available. Seeing the truth of the goodness and capableness of people in this world makes my belief that people aren’t to be trusted seem ridiculous. Sure, there are a lot of nincompoops out there, but even they have something to offer and will offer it when the need arises. It’s just true. Even if a person can’t offer one thing, they may be able to offer another.

I want to put my preconceived notions about people to the side so that I can smile and accept it when someone comes along beside me and offers to help with a project. Right now, a wall immediately comes up, and I put off an “I am perfectly capable—I certainly don’t need you” vibe. I can’t stop that from happening simply through willpower. I have to start filling my head with thoughts that will counter the negative beliefs I have about human beings in general.

This approach has worked in other areas. Time and time again, telling myself to not binge or not be anxious or not freak out about the cleanliness of my apartment has no effect. Only by replacing those thoughts with others—such as images of eating grand meals that ended with me feeling happy and full, memories of times when troublesome situations worked out without me doing a thing, and recollections of all the times I have not been ill or suffered any negative consequences after forgetting to clean the bathroom—can I develop new patterns of behavior.

Now, I am replacing the memories of people’s unreliability and stupidity with reflections on certain individuals’ conscientiousness and brilliance. Soon, those images will outnumber the negative ones, and my instinctive rejection of help will hopefully diminish. I want to be open and honest with people, but how will I get the chance if everyone is afraid to approach me in the first place?

We’ll see if this thought-replacement exercise works as well now as it has in the past. I encourage you to test it for yourself. It’s not a quick fix, but I have high hopes.

Permission

2009-05-17T23:22:00.001-05:00

Lately, life has been about permission—well, permission and impatience, but I’m focusing on the former for this post. I find that too often, I live in bondage to myself. Instead, I want to be the loving person that comes with compassion and trust to unlock my chains.

But I can I give myself permission? What if I allowed everything? What if everything was okay? What would happen—what would I do—then?

At first speculation, it seems like I would do all kinds of unhealthy things like drink too much, eat too much, smoke, or try every drug under the sun. But that has not been my experience. Although, by giving myself total permission, I claim license to do any of those things, I simultaneously acknowledge my license to do everything else, too. When everything is allowed, all choices are equal, and it’s easier for me to spot my true desires.

Yes, every choice is equal. If there are no better-thans, do I trust solely in my own desires? On the surface, this can seem dangerous. But really, it’s a simple alleviation of guilt. Listening to my desires does not mean abandoning everything I’ve learned over years of trial and error. The main breakthrough here is that where there is no shame, there is freedom. I am a human being who uses that freedom wisely and wants the best for myself and the world, even if I don’t know what the best is yet.

I make a massive amount of choices simply in order to avoid guilt. I hate feeling guilty, so I try to always pick the “best” thing to do, often disregarding my personal desires/dreams and the fact that I usually have no clue what the “best” thing actually is. By granting myself permission to do everything, even the “bad” things, I free myself to make a choice without feeling guilty that I didn’t choose something “better.”

I do not want to live in fear of guilt. I want to see each option clearly and make a decision based on a combination of external circumstances, inner propensities, and my knowledge and intuitive sense about what is best. Decisions overwhelm me when the options are blurred by an arbitrary ranking system my psyche has developed over the years that places things on a scale of “good” to “bad,” a scale that much of the time fails to account for the vast array of mitigating circumstances that could surround any one decision.

Do I have permission to cancel at the last minute? Do I have permission to say no to this person? Do I have permission to say yes? Do I have permission to change a previous decision? Do I have permission to do nothing? Do I have permission to ask more questions?

By throwing away my list of approved actions, I open myself up to an infinite number of paths. Perhaps my choices aren’t limited to a simple yes or no. Perhaps I can ask for more information or for a different date or location. Or could I ask for more time? Maybe I don’t have to choose anything at all. Maybe I can disregard this decision and move on to other things. When none of the options are bad, creativity springs to life and reveals new ways of thinking.

Because I have learned many of life’s lessons through the lens of food, I can explain this liberation with a food metaphor. When a person is controlled by an eating disorder, dieting, or even has taken for granted misguided ideas that certain foods are bad or good, selecting an item from a restaurant menu can be a nightmare. On the surface, it might appear that the dilemma results from a menu too packed with choices. It contains too many selections, too many combinations, too many tastes. But perhaps this is not the issue.

The true issue is that the person at the restaurant believes that an item (or combination of items) exists on the menu that will be better than everything else. The valuation of one item over another can be based on many factors: quantity; nutritional information; color; texture; price; or even whether it is categorized as an appetizer, entrée, breakfast or lunch, salad, or dessert. Everyone has his/her own hang-ups.

Now, what if everything on the menu was equal? I, of course, am not accounting for those people with allergies, etc. But I speak from personal experience of the change, the widening of scope, that resulted from discarding the system I relied on to help me make day-to-day meal decisions. I thought my system helped me make menu choices. However, in hindsight, I see that adhering to my beloved system, in fact, resulted in panic if the “right” items weren’t available or if what ultimately showed up on my plate didn’t match what I thought it would be when I ordered. It also made a perusal of the menu a sort of scavenger hunt for the right things instead of an exploration of new tastes. My system, in effect, served as blinders. I thought that whittling down the choices was best, when in fact, I was blind to the array of options and too busy hunting for the “right” food to listen to my body’s needs.

Leaving the system behind, I realized that any choice could be okay. I could take a breath, hear my body, and choose something to eat. Today, I have the power to order it cooked specific ways, with certain ingredients, or in combination with other items. I even have the power to not order anything at all or try something most people wouldn’t usually eat at that location or time of day. I can pick an item at random, ask the server for more information, or request an off-the-menu special.

If my order doesn’t show up as I envisioned, I can send it back or accept and eat it, knowing that what I choose to eat does not make me a better or worse person. Food doesn’t have that authority.

So I must ask, do any of our choices make us better or worse people? This question challenges some, who would contend that yes, our choices reflect the kinds of people we are. I wouldn’t flatly disagree but would follow up with: What standard are we using to measure “good” and “bad”? What makes one option “bad” and another “good”?

Too many variances exist to support hardwired measurement systems that work in every circumstance. By equalizing all choices, everything on life’s menu becomes visible, including combinations I never would have noticed before with my blinders on. Now, I see every choice clearly and don’t have a ranking system overshadowing my true emotions and needs.

Give yourself permission. Allow yourself to be who you are. In difficult situations, many times, all we have to do is step back and ask, “Am I allowed to feel this way/do this thing/be this person?” Then, we can remind ourselves, “Yes, I am allowed to feel/do/be that.”

Now, do you want to continue on the same path, or do you want to change? Neither choice is better or worse. What do you feel is best for you, regardless of any preconceived ideas? By giving yourself permission, you accept life as it is, and it’s easier to accept others as they are. We are allowed to be ourselves. It’s just true.

Wordlin'

2009-05-14T23:28:00.011-05:00

Since I feel all a'jumble lately, I thought I'd tell you about www.wordle.net , a great site that creates word clouds based on text you cut and paste or a specific web page that you specify. The more times a word is used, the larger it appears in the cloud. Wordle also allows you to customize the colors, look, and orientation of the word cloud.

Seriously, as someone who loves collages and words, it can be a real time consumer for me. It's fun to see different things I or others have written broken down this way. Key themes (or overused expressions) pop out immediately.

Anyway, here's the Wordle created from the text of all of my blog entries for this year (since January 1, 2009).

Perty, ain't it? Have fun making your own!

Someone Else Entirely

2009-05-11T20:43:00.002-05:00

I once laughed at a suggestion I read in a self-help book: For one day, pretend you do not have an eating disorder. Imagine a person other than yourself, who can be anything except eating disordered, and be her for a single day.

It’s not that this seemed ludicrous—just a bit silly. Ah, those were back in the days before I realized the immense fun of being silly and ridiculous. Now, I’ve set ridiculousness as a daily goal (mostly because it’s one I know that I can easily achieve).

Anyway, I have never completely done this (pretend to be an entirely different person for a day). I have followed this practice for a few hours at a time, especially for activities I may not be too excited about. Imagining myself as someone different can certainly spice things up. And when necessary errands seem unbearably dull, I’ll sometimes apply eccentric make-up and saunter through the aisles at Wal-mart as a person who does things I never would.

Those are all very short-term applications, though. Today, I discovered the power of asserting myself as a different person for an entire day.

I did not create a whole new persona; I simply decided to pretend that a couple of my values had shifted. I decided that, just for today, I am not going to be a person who cares about exercising. Instead, I’m a person who cares passionately about music. I didn’t specify how I related to my eating disorder or how I would spend my time. I just decided to behave as I felt I would if I truly cared about music much more than exercising or maintaining a perfect body.

Freedom. Freedom is the experience. And you know what I also found? This person who values music above exercise—she is the real me. I am my dreams. I do value music. It’s no wonder that I resent the times when I force myself to exercise when I would rather play music. I know what I would prefer; I know what is truly important to me.

This isn’t to say I should stop exercising entirely. For today, however, I did practice a song instead of working out before heading to the office. I also came home and spent a good deal of time working on some other music, practicing and finishing up a new song, instead of doing anything else. Valuing music highly also changed my orientation toward all the to-dos that often nag me when I get home. Today, I was able to say, “No, I do not value those things right now. I value music, and that is what I’m going to do. There is time for you later.” Deciding to maintain this mentality for an entire day helped me face any obstacle that got in my way. I knew my primary value and acted on it each time I was faced with a choice between acting out of love for music or a preoccupation with appearances.

Life, ideally, balances itself out between the tasks we have to do to survive in the world, good health, relationships, and self-expression. Sometimes, I get all out of whack. It isn’t that I shouldn't value exercise. Biking and walking are fun. I enjoy activity, no doubt. But I never want to think that one enjoyable (or unenjoyable) thing defines me. If I define myself according to a single measure, life becomes pure drudgery, and I become an awfully boring specimen.

I proved to myself that I can live a day without exercise as a crutch. I let myself flow and shifted my priorities. This shift didn’t change most of my activity for the day, but the mental realignment echoed through me. I felt powerful and true to myself. I took care of myself and my true desires. There have been plenty of stretches in my life when exercise didn’t concern me, and this day reminded me of what it feels like to live without that burden. This is certainly something I thought I would have down pat by now, but today revealed that I still have a huge potential to learn and grow in this area. Struggles ebb and flow.

I highly suggest pretending to be someone else for a day. You may discover new ways of approaching the world or learn that you can do things you fear and not crumble. Or, in being someone else, you may come face to face with who you really are.

Magic Bubbles

2009-05-03T16:15:00.000-05:00

“Chef! Chef!” my neighbor’s granddaughter Alexa cries. She can’t quite say my name, and Chef is as close to Michelle as she’s ever heard. “The bubbles!”

Alexa blows a stream of bubbles from the plastic wand her grandmother holds and chases them to the other end of the courtyard. Standing in the empty space where the bubbles floated and popped, she calls, “Come back! Come back!” Over and over, the bubbles are blown and followed by her futile request.

~

Something in this scene warms my heart. Since childhood, I have never stopped crying out for the bubbles to return. When magic comes into my life and fades, I stand in the vacant space and beg it to reappear. Those sparks of magic sustain me but also keep me wanting more.

Nonetheless, watching Alexa chase the bubbles reminds me of magic’s everpresence. If I look for it with earnest patience, magic reveals itself. Furthermore, I am free to grieve when it passes and begin looking for it to emerge in new, unexpected clothing.

~

It starts to rain, and her grandmother asks if she’d like to come inside. “No,” Alexa replies. She prefers to stand in the grass and feel the magic run down her skin.

Chasing Flies

2009-05-02T20:14:00.000-05:00

I’m chasing a fly. Stupid fly, buzzing and rustling my blinds and spreading its who-knows-what germs all around. That tiny hole in my window screen gave him just the space he needed to break in. Seriously, get lost!

Sometimes, in life, I feel like I’m chasing flies. Little annoyances that aren’t really doing anything to hurt me somehow attract my complete focus. I can ignore them for a while, but before I know it, I can hear nothing but their buzzing. At that point, nothing else matters but swatting the fly or shooing it out the door.

I stop doing whatever task I’m involved with to stand up and hunt down the fly. Is this really a good thing? Would life be better if I could sustain focus on one goal at a time? Are all the germs or bad things I imagine these annoyances are bringing not really so dangerous as I imagine? Perhaps the fly would go away on its own if I simply ignored it and continued the task at hand.

I get frustrated when little things take up more of my time than necessary. Chasing down the fly seems like a simple enough task, especially if I’m in an enclosed place. Surely it won’t take more than a minute or two to swat it or at least get it out the open door. But it always takes longer. The creature eludes me; I smack it with a notebook, and somehow it flies away, unscathed. The fly sucks the time away.

I don’t want these trivial tasks or bothers to consume my days and preoccupy my mind. This means learning to let thoughts come and go as they may without clinging to them, without letting them penetrate the forefront of my thoughts when I want to focus on something else.

Meditation helps with this practice immensely. If I can sit for fifteen or twenty minutes and think a million thoughts without acting on them during a meditation session, I can do it when trying to blog or work or write a song.

This also means trusting myself to remember those “important” thoughts when I do have the time or mental space to do so. If I am working on a particular task, I don’t have to immediately stand up and pay my bills or do the laundry just because a thought that I should do those things floats by. I can remind myself of what I’m working on now and trust that I will accomplish to-dos that need to be done at a later time. I can trust myself to remember and follow through later.

Trust in myself is key. If I don’t trust myself to do things that need to be done, I’ll spend all day chasing flies instead of sitting down and doing work I am truly passionate about. Distractions need not become full-time occupations.

I must learn that I can choose not to act on obsessive thoughts and that I can trust myself to succeed at this life thing. I can let the flies buzz until I’m finished writing/playing/preparing; then, if they are still around, I’ll have plenty of time to shoo them out the door.

The Ultimate Desire ~ The Ultimate Teacher

2009-04-29T18:49:00.001-05:00

I do what I do. I have tried being productive. I have tried following set schemes with predetermined goals. None of that has worked. Now, I reach the point of exhaustion and let my mind flit back and forth amongst within the tangley tree of genius ideas growing inside my heart and brain.

Tangley, tangley… There’s nothing left but words that don’t exist and ideas that could change the world if only someone else could hear them. This mishmash of phrases, if strung together correctly, would comprise the greatest book ever written, and I lie in it, doing nothing about it, wishing I would but not. Just lying still, waiting—waiting for love to come, wanting it so badly I can taste it.

A voice inside assures me that it is coming, that it is very near—this love I want. And it reminds me of all the love I currently have—love that, although it is not the romantic, all-enduring, physically and emotionally satisfying love I envision, is a great love of many different kinds from many different people. For who among us are lucky enough to receive all the kinds of love we need from a single person? The best of us stumble across someone who contains most of them. The majority find someone who satisfy enough. Perhaps others settle for less.

The combination of people in our lives represents all the different kinds of love available, and there are many kinds of love. We keep finding new kinds as we meet each new person along the way or enter into new levels of intimacy with old friends. Love changes, grows, fades, evolves, mutates, and teaches us everything.

More than any book I have read or lecture I’ve attended, more than any pamphlet, meeting, retreat, self-improvement/actualization/reflection activity, technique, or spiritual event, love—and always love—teaches me. The wonder of love transcends any other experience, whether figuring out how to build a career, how to solve an equation, or how to lace a pair of shoes. More than functional lessons, love—not the projects and causes and efforts I participate in—gives me all I need to know, teaching and amazing me in new ways every time.

I adore the big loves, the loves that sweep me off my feet and take me to new places in life I wouldn’t have known to go before love and I collided. It rescues me every time. And I want a rescue now—and every day. We all need love every day. But I’m praying for a big one, a magic one, a knock-your-socks-off, send-you-into-new-worlds love.

It doesn’t have to be for a person; it doesn’t have to be romantic (although those tend to be most powerful), just a love that takes me somewhere I cannot see on my own. I need new sight. And love grows new eyes.

Do Your Work, and Be Kind

2009-04-25T19:54:00.002-05:00

I am grateful for the way I do things, for Michelle’s way. It is perfect for me. I never have to be anyone else.

When I follow my authentic feelings and yearnings, things always end up okay, even if I don’t initially see how following those feelings could ever lead to success. Trying to follow the path of another or doing things as I think a successful person would always requires more energy, more striving, and more difficulty. The two roads may end up in the same place, but following the path based on my genuine propensities is more satisfying and less brutal.

The hard part is TRUSTING myself and believing that my way is just as good as any other. Despite my own doubts, I prove time and time again that I am the best at making decisions for myself and coming up with ways of living that work for me.

For instance, a new mantra is running through my mind and heart: Do my work, and be kind.

This especially helps on the job. When I am at work, I can easily focus on what I think others are or are not doing. I compare and get down on myself or resentful of others. This can then cause me to lash out in not-so-enlightened ways. I can be condescending or mean and may behave passive aggressively without realizing it until after the fact.

No more! In life and in the office, I want to do my work. I want to do the best I can and concentrate on my own goals and successes. I cannot control what other people do, but I can control the choices I make. I can decide to work diligently and complete projects, to ask people for what I need and be honest when I’m running short on time. I feel like a good worker when I focus on doing my best. Sometimes, I have to put the blinders on, but it’s always worth it. I would rather not know the office gossip and instead feel grateful for everyone who is there, helping me to do the best I can or teaching me more about myself.

Do not miss the “be kind” part of the mantra. Bottom line is: Kindness wins. Every time. I don’t care how tight the deadline or how important a project is to the executive team, treating someone inconsiderately to get the job done is not the best option. The project ends, the product fades, the memory of that week at work dissipates. But when I hurt someone, the sting stays with me.

Nothing is worth making someone else feel small. No job outweighs the value of a person’s soul. And that goes for my soul as well. Being kind to others is only possible when I am loving myself, too. I must practice self care by resting and doing my own job within appropriate limits. I don’t have to work long hours or do crazy amounts of work just because I think everyone else is. I can focus on doing my best. When I work diligently during business hours and then leave work in the office, I produce stellar work without going insane.

When I am kind both to myself and others, I forge fantastic relationships and don’t feel any shame or fear. I can confront others at work with thoughtfulness rather than resentment. I can be strong and tell people what I need without hurting them. I can clear my side of the road and let their feelings be theirs. I am no doormat, but I am kind. Frustration should not be sat on until it comes out in passive aggressive ways. Leave meanness behind and be professional, completing projects by having conversations with those I have difficulty with and being completely honest about my feelings and the situation. It may require owning my own shortcomings.

The end conclusion is this: I do not have to be a different person at work than I am in my life. The same person who makes good decisions and brings color outside the office can choose wisely at work and bring her own personality into play. All of life con reflect the newfound trust I have in myself and my abilities.

You can do it, too. Don’t let work take over your life. Incorporate work into the life you’ve lovingly built for yourself. Trust that, inside, you do know the best solution.

Inspiration Overload

2009-04-19T18:31:00.001-05:00

I have inspiration overload. I took a weekend getaway to retreat and to participate in a recovery workshop led by Anita Johnston, an eating disorder specialist who uses (and teaches others to use) myth and metaphor to “decode” eating disorders and other issues. Sitting in circles of women all weekend, all of whom had come together from various places in diverse settings to seek a higher guidance truly invigorated and enlivened me. My heart sings even now!

I learned a great deal and am longing to share it with you all, but I honestly feel completely stymied. It’s time to sit back and take it all in, letting it soak through my skin and into my heart. Once I have fully felt all that I have learned, it can pour through me and be useful to others.

I do, however, feel compelled to recommend Nia movement classes and Anita Johnston’s book Eating in the Light of the Moon. Through free, judgment-free movement and reflection on the symbolic elements of our thoughts and lives, our soul, mind, and body unite in effective communication. The mind can serve the soul as a helper in navigating the logistics of the world we live in. The mind doesn’t have to rule us or make all our decisions. Our soul is who we are, and it speaks through our bodies.

By getting in touch with our bodies, we can access truth about our souls that our minds sometimes cover up with pesky worries, thoughts, and, at times, logic. We need our bodies and metaphor to puzzle through things that our mind can’t explain.

This weekend, I stayed at The Crossings in Austin, a wonderful spiritual retreat location that I recommend to anyone needing reflective time in nature. It provided the perfect mix of the natural world and a cozy room to sleep in at night. The wellness center, complete with all sorts of amazing services for body and spirit (from massages and facials to chakra alignment and spiritual guidance sessions), certainly helped as well. It was the ideal atmosphere (at least for someone like me) for quiet reflection and total permission to explore and examine in safety. I could choose to take classes, socialize, or spend time alone. And the atmosphere encouraged me to stretch the boundaries of what I could do to open my heart and move forward (or inward) in my journey.

All that said, I entered the weekend with some expectation of rest. However, it did not turn out that way at all. Once on my way to Austin, I felt drawn to participate in so many things. Time escaped me, and I found myself learning and going and moving and doing so much that I can still hardly keep it all straight. In an attempt to align my thoughts, I made a list of all the things I want to pursue now that I’m home. It’s long. Long.

Okay, so I did not receive the kind of clarity I wanted. The trip even extended my already lengthy list of aspirations. Perhaps I gained more questions than answers, but that could be a good thing. I like to think that I have gained a greater variety of questions to ask, and that’s a crucial step. Now, I can embark upon the task of exercising my mind in new areas as I answer them. It’s time to slow down, here in my everyday world. I may even take days off of work in the near future and NOT go somewhere so that I can allow the truths that have been imparted to rise to the surface.

Although I may not have returned equipped with a more straightforward list of to-dos, I do feel a greater sense of overall purpose. I see that I could lead groups of women in growth, even as imperfect as I am. I want to use my gifts with others. I see my skills as a friend-maker and as a thoughtful introvert. I see my strengths more clearly, and I see how I can use them. Now, the task is getting all this knowledge out into the world.

Do I start speaking at events tomorrow? Do I work more deliberately on a book? Do I put more effort into the support group I’m trying to form here in Houston? Do I initiate regular gatherings of my female friends? What do I do!?

For today, I answer, “Rest, Michelle.” As much as I ever do, I will let it all sink in. Part of what I see is my reluctance to rest. During the moments when I was expressly given permission to drop everything and lie down (physically or figuratively) this weekend, I noted the power of sitting still and simply allowing thoughts to come. Once worry about the next move is removed, space is created for the growth of truly actionable ideas or a greater sense of self that will walk alongside me after I have broken the stillness and returned to the busyness of life.

Of course, I can’t leave off without mentioning nature… Oh, glorious nature! I had many memories of hiking with my grandfather this weekend. It felt so similar, and I was able to access regions of myself I hadn’t in a long time, regions that also happen to be connected with food and the way I currently prioritize my time. Right now, I am considering nature and its connection to my personal nature.

In any case, I can end there. Consider this post permission to sit back, relax, and let whatever you’ve been learning lately to permeate your soul. Once you’ve soaked it all up, you’ll be able to stand and walk into the world, the new discoveries oozing out of you without any effort—even without making a list of all the things you want to do with those discoveries! Enlightenment cannot help but spread.

The Small Stuff

2009-04-14T23:17:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, a small change does the trick. Sometimes, you only need a baby step. Creativity queen SARK would call it a “micromovement.” Just do the tiniest part of a thing—and then stop. You don’t have to do any more. You can continue if you want, but you don’t have to.

I’m practicing this now, with this very blog. At the moment, I am not resorting to small-stepping for lack of motivation, but for lack of time. I need (and desire) to eat dinner and finish other things, but I want to get some thoughts down, too. So I’m writing at least a portion of this blog first, urging us all to celebrate the little accomplishments in our lives before moving on.

Every tiny action we take leads to the fulfillment of a greater goal, just as even the shortest sentences, put together, create an entire blog. The achievement of the goal needn’t be elevated above all the steps it took to get there. The pieces make the whole.

When the whole overwhelms us, it’s time for tiny movements. And I disallow the berating of ourselves for only making a small movement! Be proud. A little is more than nothing.

Sometimes, when unmotivated, I have to give myself a break and let the laziness or apathy run through me, absolutely embracing the doing of nothing. Then, the motivation mysteriously returns on its own. On the other hand, when chronic procrastination or lack of enthusiasm sticks like a cold I want to kick, I can often peer into my heart and find one small thing I don’t feel so apathetic toward. Completing that one item often gears me up to do another or satisfies me enough that the guilt over my inaction dissipates. In the midst of general indifference, something usually sparks a passion—even if only a fleeting passion—when I search for it.

By taking the steps I want to take as I am motivated to take them, I buck what I think society or other people think is best. I tend to harbor little boundaries or schemas of how things “should” be done in my subconscious. I act and face challenges based on those lies sometimes. Of course I’m not going to want to follow a method or live up to a standard that seems unfair! If a project seems too terrible to begin, it’s usually because I have pre-formed some idea of how it has to be done or what the finished product needs to be. Investigation of that idea often reveals it to be founded in fear or carried over from childhood along with all sorts of other fantasies that don’t actually correspond with reality.

Examine the boundaries you’ve put in place or the rules you think must be adhered to. Maybe those boundaries and rules are helpful. Maybe they are not. Are they even realistic? More than likely, they help at times and hinder in other instances. After identifying boundaries or rules that seem like lies, break a couple of them. Feel liberated, knowing that you can retreat to the safety of those boundaries at any time.

Moving at our own pace, according to beliefs that coincide with our authentic selves, allows us a kind of freedom that removes the need to rebel against external standards. If we are operating according to rules and notions that help us ad reflect life as it truly is, the boundaries of work and law and time don’t seem so oppressive. We can see what needs to be obeyed and what can be fudged or abandoned. When we have opened enough doors to satisfy our naturally roaming, exploring, inquisitive natures, a few padlocks don’t seem so harsh. Perhaps they can even be unlocked later, when we’re done running wildly through the worlds we’ve already made available.

Tasks we had trouble starting because it seemed like they “had” to be done or “should” be completed in a certain fashion aren’t so difficult to begin when external measurements fade in importance. We can tackle challenges and responsibilities freely, at our own pace, with an outcome that may not match other people’s standards or even our own initial impulses. This is the power of allowing (and appreciating) small steps and investigating the validity of our beliefs and standards.

So take a small step today; move into action, even if for only half a second. Then, take a rest. Check out Planet SARK for ideas. Use tiny things to your advantage, from the small steps you make to the tiny changes in your routine that keep you alive. The smallest change can make the most surprising difference. A little reminder from me to you…and me.

(See, all those sentences really add up!)

Can't Be Perfect

2009-04-08T23:31:00.005-05:00

I feel my sense of judgment creeping up because I haven’t blogged in the last few days despite a firm desire to do so. As a brief update, emotionally, I’m out of the doldrums, and hope to stay here. Music is a guiding force in this transition. In May, I and a few friends will be putting together an arts night in which we will showcase our various talents and hopefully raise some money for charity. Details to come…

Until then, I’ll hold my enthusiasm for the arts evening tight and begin accepting the areas where I am less than enthusiastic. Even though I’m planning this one musical exposition, I tell myself that I could be doing more. Sure, I could be, but I don’t. Something blocks me—something inside me. Is that okay? Should I accept my inaction and complacency?

The bottom line is that I AM NOT PERFECT. I cannot be. Part of me wants to pursue a music career. Part of me does not. The why is not clear. I tell myself that “perfect Michelle” would be out getting gigs and singing everywhere possible. It doesn’t take long to be reminded that I am not “perfect Michelle.”

Perfection is an image or standard in my head unlike anyone else’s. All of our ideas of “perfect” are equally individual and unattainable. Perfect isn’t real and actually causes conflict when two different people’s versions of perfection don’t mesh. It’s a fruitless pursuit. I am who I am, but unfortunately, I am often the last person to acknowledge or accept that.

In honor of my imperfection, illustrated in this attempt to blog when I should be getting in bed to be rested for work tomorrow, I am showcasing a little tune for y’all. Any flaws in the video simply further the theme of this particular post and reflect the fact that I recorded it at 11:30 at night, all the while hoping I wasn’t waking up my downstairs neighbor.

Happy listening. Enjoy your imperfections! They are often the most interesting parts of you.

When Do I Need a Swift Kick in the Pants?

2009-04-02T23:38:00.003-05:00

Where is the balance between honoring feelings and pushing boundaries? I often feel resistance toward doing certain things. Sometimes, I’m caring for myself by recognizing the resistance and saying no to the activities or behaviors in question. Other times, I push through the resistance, do the thing, and end up with a fantastic sense of accomplishment. How do I know when to push and when to let myself be?

I suspect that the answer has something to do with investigating the motives underneath the resistance. Why do I not want to try this activity, be with this person, or start this task? Am I afraid of something? Is this an instinctual hesitancy? Are my beliefs about this situation true? Am I resisting this thing just because of the unknown? Am I honestly tired now or not equipped for this? Do I really want to do this or not?

Those are some of the questions I could ask. And I could do the same when I feel enthusiastic about doing certain things. Sometimes, I life turns out better when I put the brakes on and consider why I’m running to do something. However, I’m less likely to advocate the slower pace when it comes to enthusiasm. It’s rare that I get overwhelmingly excited about something, so I generally feel that it’s okay to go with the flow when I experience a rush of that sort.

Still, it can be worthwhile to ask whether or I’m enthusiastic about something because it’s a comfortable habit or because I genuinely want to be involved with that thing or person. Is this really enthusiasm, or is it a rush to get things done? Am I in touch with my true feelings right now?

However, even as I write this, I wonder where the balance lies. I’m not sure if I can tell where my resistance comes from. Could it be that I don’t want to give up a habit or that I truly don’t want to do that thing or go to that place or have contact with that person? Can my desires lead me astray? I suppose they can when I’m not in touch with their underpinnings.

To get in touch—now there’s a goal. I still advocate doing the harder or scarier (more-faith-required) thing when faced with tough choices, but I also don't want to neglect feelings that could have a firm foundation.

In any case, good luck seeking balance, my friends. It’s a lifelong journey!

Reach Out

2009-03-31T23:32:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, I forget that one of the cures for any kind of troublesome thinking is simply opening up to someone else about what is happening or what is on my mind. No matter how trivial or ridiculous it seems, if I share my feelings or thoughts with someone, through ANY means—email, phone, in person, letter-writing, singing a song, crying when there are no words—the load lightens. I have to get the jumble of ideas or emotions out. And when I’m able to share details, it feels even better. Somehow, sharing really matters.

So obvious, and yet I forget that! Lies enter my head, like (and this is in no particular order):
1. It’s not that big a deal.
2. This is too huge/incomprehensible to deal with.
3. I’ve dealt with this a thousand times. Let’s just ride this one out.
4. I can handle this myself—or I SHOULD be able to handle this myself.
5. That person won’t be able to respond in a helpful or satisfying way.
6. I don’t want to bother someone else with this.
7. There’s no way to express this in an adequate or understandable way.

The key is replacing those lies with the following truths:
1. If I feel it, it matters. If this is an issue for me, it deserves attention.
2. Once I express something to someone either by speaking or writing, it becomes less of a monster. I can think through the thing and see it for what it is. If I am dealing with a long list of worries, stresses, or to-dos, looking at them written down makes the thoughts less repetitive and more contained. The mountain in my head is usually smaller than I think.
3. If I am dealing with an issue again, there is more to investigate. It still deserves attention. I will learn something new this time or more deeply cement truths I have not fully grasped.
4. I probably can handle this myself, but it will be much easier, lighter, and faster to ask for help. Simply getting a new perspective can mean the world when life gets confusing or overwhelming.
5. I have been surprised time and time again by people’s reactions. Often, the act of getting something out is all I need, regardless of the response, but by sharing, I at least present myself with the opportunity to receive a new gift. Also, if I don’t think one person can give me what I need, I probably know someone else out there who can. Reach out to that person.
6. I am never bothered when a true friend reaches out for help. I like hearing other people’s stories and want to be there for them. It deepens relationships. The person I try to contact does not have to pick up the phone or reply to my note if s/he does not feel like interacting. My friends value me and will be there however they can be. The main benefit for me is simply trying to communicate what I’m holding inside.
7. I can express this thought or emotion in any way I can. There are no rules. No method or means of expression is inferior. If I have to draw someone a picture or just dial a number and start sobbing, that is good enough. If the extent of my willingness or abilities enables me to send only a tiny email or IM that says, “I’m hurting,” that’s fine. When I can’t offer a big explanation, leave the house, or speak on the phone, there are smaller means of reaching out. If all I can do is send a letter that won’t get to the recipient for days, I can still write it. Trash the overtures and immediate reciprocity. I don’t have to have something to give in return for their time. An opportunity will rise to return the favor later. For now, let the monster loose!

I rarely have to suffer alone. Even if I can only seem to reach out to the same individual for a period of time, at least I reach out. The person might ask for some space after a while, but the process of choosing who to open up to usually follows a natural course. My perception is generally the only thing making me believe I’m “too much.”

Don’t bottle things up, my friends. Even little issues need airing, or they will fester and grow into infectious beasts. It’s amazing what a little word to a friend will do. Even if I have to start out doing nothing more than asking about the other person’s day, that form of outreach is good enough.

The main thing: Human beings are connected. We are made to share joys and sorrows. Everyone needs a chance to do what they are built to do. Reach out, regardless of how it looks!

What Has Value?

2009-03-29T17:44:00.001-05:00

I have been out blowing and going, brewing and doing, rambling and racing. Now, it’s time for rest. Once again, I ask, “What nourishes me?” Today, that is sitting at the piano, relaxing into the music. No need for tangible results.

I tend to be so tied to doing things that can be measured or that result in a physical product. I am inclined to clean my bathroom or finish a home improvement project before I sit down to write, play, read, or think. In the midst of my errand running, with the satisfaction of a checked-off to-do list, I can miss the extreme value writing, playing, reading, and thinking hold. Even if I do not complete a song or an article, the time spent thinking and pondering IS worthwhile. People just can’t see it, and I tend to like things that I think will win me favor with people.

Over the years, however, I have learned that I can FEEL the value of abstract activity. My family never really valued intangibles; therefore, I became highly achievement-oriented, filling my life with goals like cross country race times, grades, levels of extracurricular involvement, and eventually numbers on a scale or calories eaten in a day. I am beginning to see that striving toward such targets may offer far fewer benefits than enjoying less concrete activities.

My brain needs imagination time to function properly and come up with new ideas when I eventually get to work or encounter a difficult project. Imagining during my free time prepares my mind for creative thinking in a product-driven environment. On my own, I can think and play without creating an end product.

When deciding not to work on another item on my task list, it can be very difficult to shirk old beliefs that shout, “Why are you sitting around doing this? Why are you walking around aimlessly at night or lying in the middle of the living room floor? Why are you not finishing up that song or cleaning the bookshelves or preparing lunch for tomorrow? What you’re doing now matters to NO ONE!”

“Well,” I reply, “this matters to me. And because I allow myself the freedom to spend time without goals, products, or measures, I feel less hemmed in by all the things in my life that require me to meet expectations and quotas. Participating in activities without goals enhances my positive emotions and creative ideas—a priceless result. I feel invigorated, rather than drained, by these pursuits. The fact that I am doing this now will matter to someone, someday. And even if that person is only me, that is enough.”

The value system for activity that I have in place is pretty hard-wired from childhood. But by experimenting with letting myself go and doing things that seemingly have no point, I can see if life gets better or worse when I shift my focus and priorities.

We can all afford to take a look at our fundamental beliefs. Are there things you believe and don’t know why? Examine those. Then, do something contrary to the belief. Does your belief still seem founded in truth?

As for me, I’m off to the piano. Maybe a song will come out of this. Maybe not. Maybe all that really matters is that I make music.

Uncovering the Color

2009-03-22T00:06:00.000-05:00

I just want to add one more thing about painting today.

At one point during the painting process, I covered everything in black. This was a heartbreaker at first. I’d spent so much time on the color work and decided to cover it up. It seemed so morbid and wrong.

But as I painted on the black, I recognized a persistence of color. I took my fingers and scratched at the canvas. The colors reappeared in all their vibrance, peeking through the dark overlay. It looked fantastic. I couldn’t believe it. Even the black itself wasn’t really black. It was a glossy, purpley mix of everything underneath.

That final creation—vibrant color peeking through black and gray, embodies much of what I’m about. I believe in the power of darkness to drive us to new heights of life and light. I believe that we each hold massive amounts of color and joy within us, but it must be uncovered. Life is not only growing and adding and finding new color. It is revealing the color that already exists within us, and that color is part of the darkness. Black is actually EVERY color combined. It’s not an empty thing. It holds everything. It holds all possibility.

Also, about covering up the color: Is the color worthless if no one sees it? Or does it create form and texture that the painting would lack without it? The artist wouldn’t have gotten to the final purple-black finish without all the color beforehand.

I understand Rothko’s chapel paintings a little more now. Endless color rests beneath the dark finish. And even though I’m curious and wish he’d unleashed the color to the world, at least I know that the color exists.

With Rothko, though, I wonder if he got to the point where he couldn’t see beyond the mass of color that turned to black. He couldn’t separate all the color he saw into different pieces. I wonder if, in a way, he might have been trapped inside the mix of color. He couldn’t make sense of it and so felt he had to leave us (committing suicide).

It isn’t bad to feel confused or dominated or overwhelmed by the colors and thoughts and ideas of the world and within ourselves, but it does make it more difficult to cope with life. That is the curse of the artist: a million ideas. What do we do with them? And when we do something with them, the onlookers tend to critique them to death.

What’s more, the thing we as artists create rarely if never fully expresses the idea within. Artists who can accept this and the reinterpretation of their own ideas by others thrive. Those who obsess over getting across EVERY nuance or who feel shot down when their ideas are interpreted in an unsatisfactory way have a much more difficult time.

I want to accept my thoughts and the thoughts of others. I’d like to have a conversation with uncomfortable ideas instead of immediately shoving them away. I want to recognize that everything holds color. It all shines, even the darkness.

Curiosity is key. I want to investigate what might live under the surface of things. I want to scratch away the black until I see that the black has a purpose, too.

Coloring through the Fear

2009-03-21T23:53:00.002-05:00

I finally painted today! I attended a process painting class, used paint, explored, and didn’t have to withstand any critiques. It was all about letting my own creativity out, taking note of my resistances, and seeing what happened when I ignored the resistance and followed my heart.

I started out painting with whatever colors I felt like using. Every couple of minutes, I would see my painting and love it but also want to continue painting. I felt sure that if I kept on adding paint and color, I would ruin my creation. I noticed this resistance, and instead of moving on to a new piece of paper, I followed my intuition and put the next color exactly where I wanted to, just to see what might happen.

What was the worst that could happen? Giant fears of ruining my perfect picture arose within me. Did I really think that ruining a painting would ruin my life? My fear made no sense, and I immediately related it to how I think about decisions in my daily life. I can exhibit such catastrophic thinking. Every choice seems like life or death. My painting process reflected that.

In the studio, however, I transcended the fear and never changed my canvas. The miraculous thing was that every time I continued painting, despite worries that my work was at its most beautiful and would be marred by another brush stroke, the painting got better. Once I made another mark or muddled my “perfect” creation, a new technique or idea opened up that made something else even more shockingly beautiful. By getting to a new stage with the painting instead of repeating the start of another one, I discovered techniques I never would have considered and learned more about color combinations and paint texture. That information remained hidden and unavailable when I stayed in the safe spot and stopped before I “ruined” anything.

It felt good to break through and do the challenging thing. And it felt odd to have been so wrong. Continuing to paint didn’t ruin anything—it opened me up to more.

And that’s what I want to do in life. I want to go beyond safety to a place where miracles and true learning occur. I want to remember that I can’t make a mistake and that resistance is worth examining.

Confession

2009-03-21T23:52:00.000-05:00

Okay, I confess. I have seen every season of America’s Next Top Model. I have also seen several seasons of Top Model shows from other countries. Yes, yes, it’s true. The positive body image princess secretly consumes hours of not-so-trend-bucking beauty stereotypes. I swore I would say no to this season. But boredom intervened.

I have maligned myself for this interest too long. Time to replace shame, fear, and confusion with curiosity. Curiosity always seems like a good way to go. Why am I interested in this show? Why do I watch it? After thinking about this question, I highly encourage all of you to do the same.

What do we think is beautiful, and why do we think it’s beautiful? First, let me describe a little about how I feel about the beauty of people who I meet in person, as opposed to images in the media.

When I meet women who are very thin, thinner than me, I am a little let down and a little repulsed, actually. Women whose veins stick out of their heads, with jaws as sharp as blades, bother me. A woman can be thin and still be soft; a slender softness belongs to people who are naturally slim. However, on other skinny women, I see bones clearly aching for some skin.

Now, I realize that this feeling I have is clearly judging based on appearance alone. How a person looks, whether thin or fat, is no indication of what lies within. But can I just say that SOMETIMES, sometimes a body can indicate something deeper about the owner. Honestly, I meet women who are so frenetic—they can’t sit down, they’re worried about what others think, and they take such meticulous care of their bodies—that I can practically feel their own restriction.

I know that they are holding themselves in. They are tightly controlling and managing their lives, the same way I do. Seeing someone else wearing my tendencies is difficult. I want to tell them to let loose, that the women I most respect move with a deliberation, have a spaciousness to them, and a softness. I respect the beauty of those who fully inhabit their bodies rather than simply ensuring that their bodies are physically acceptable. Women who use their bodies in a holistic way are usually more adept and feeding it properly, giving it adequate rest, while also moving it enough to keep themselves energized. I want to inhabit my body that way.

In person, I expect people to come in all sizes, and beauty truly does flow from within. People who are comfortable in their bodies, no matter how big or small, glow. Their energy isn’t focused primarily on concerns related to physical appearance, so they have more to offer the world. That is the kind of beauty I want.

Then, I turn on Top Model. The joy of judging clicks on even higher, and all my standards of beauty morph into their opposites. I forget that he jaggedness of thin models is smoothed away by airbrushing, and that models who aren’t thin enough get slimmed down. My idea of big and small completely changes, and I wonder why girls who look like me are even in the competition.

My paradoxical approach to beauty in different formats shocks me and guides me toward this investigation of why we think certain things are beautiful and in what context.

Beauty trends started decades ago in person or in media have now continued and evolved, placing us where we are: in a time when media images no longer reflect reality in the least. Even the most perfect among us aren’t perfect enough. What is ugly in person is desirable in a magazine. Women who look like my friends have no place in leading roles on the big or small screen. We will never measure up.

Despite all my feelings about bodies and beauty in person, my standards for a “model” or for what I should see in a fashion editorial are completely non-human. This is the very reason why alien-esque girls rise over and over again to the top model ranks. We have been trained to think that bodies that look completely unlike any person we’ve ever met belong in the pages of Vogue, not people who look like me or my friends.

And as long as we keep looking at those images, a piece of us will think people are supposed to look that way. We are too diverse a species for that. I want people to stop paying attention to media images (fat chance, I know!) and realize that soft can be beautiful. Not every muscle must be toned. Hair can be matted. Teeth can be less than white. Hourglass or twig are not the only shapes.

Back to my obsession with model-making shows. Why do we pick THESE girls as being beautiful? What gets them kicked off the show? What is not good enough? How is each contestant different? Why do we like different things about each? Why is one thing okay for one person and not for another? What is perfect? Why do we have these ideas? And who is feeding us these ideas? Why do we really like or dislike these shows and the characters in them?

I applaud organizations like Dove and all the many, more localized efforts to place people who look a little more human in their ads. I have nothing against models in general. But by the time pictures of them have gone through dozens of rounds of production, the model herself doesn’t even measure up to her own perfect picture. And even though I have no hatred of the actors on television, I do have a problem with the fact that body types that match only a tiny percentage of our world’s population make up the vast majority of what is projected on television. The world the media has constructed only vaguely resembles our own.

My project is to fill my mind with images of real people. This requires getting out and meeting them, of course, but my own sanity is worth the annoyances of human interaction. By noticing natural beauty more often, I can remember what is real and what I truly admire. And those traits have nothing to do with how a person looks. Perhaps by feeding myself with more and more of the real, I could even lessen my in-person skinny prejudice. The world is much less one-sided than our media depicts.

Ophelia's Place

2009-03-17T20:12:00.003-05:00

Ophelia’s Place in New York is my vision come to life. I dream of a safe place where people can gather to discover REAL beauty and REAL recovery. If anyone else shares this vision, please contact me. Houston is in desperate need for something like Ophelia's Place. Check out the link to see more.

No one knows how long something like this could take to create, especially since I don't know the first thing about starting a business. Nonetheless, many times, I've described to friends a place where people can come to hang out, attend support groups, do work, eat together (in a supportive environment), be creative, and host eating disorder recovery events. It would sustain itself through donations; other freelance work I do; operating as a speaking/music venue; possibly leasing out space for therapists and other healing practices; and by selling some merchandise, art, drinks, and food.

When I heard about Ophelia's Place, I couldn't believe how closely it matched the image that has long swirled around in my head. Although I would incorporate a less Christian-specific spirituality in the community, the foundations of my desire are represented in living color there. By stating this as my vision, I hope to attract the momentum, know-how, and resources required to create something similar but also completely different and perfect in its own way.

Please support Ophelia's Place and also join me in the vision for a future where human beings love their bodies and come together to heal and bring light into the world—a place of strong, joy-filled people journeying toward our best selves through creativity, introspection, and community support.

Properly Nourished

2009-03-14T20:16:00.000-05:00

It amazes me when, after frittering about for many hours, engaging in my interests or accomplishing necessary tasks, I sit down, become still, and feel a wave of sadness or fear. Did those feelings just appear, or was I blocking them with my activity? At that point, I begin to decipher exactly why I feel that sad or fearful.

Even more amazing is that the answer is almost always the same: I have not adequately nourished myself. Sometimes, I’m honestly hungry after performing all of those activities. A nice meal can sometimes be the cure for the blues. Most of the time, though, I’m missing a sense of security or am feeling disconnected from the world. I was so wrapped up in whatever I was doing that everything else fell by the wayside.

Sometimes, I’ll insist, “It’s not a question of nourishment. I just spent the last few hours doing things that interest me, things I like, and things I feel good about doing. Surely I can’t need more nourishment than that. I should want to go out and face the world now. I should be ready to party or help someone.” It goes on and on, and I’m missing the point.

We all need many different kinds of nourishment. Sometimes, we need to be alone to rejuvenate. Sometimes, we need a bath, a meal, a hug, a conversation, a walk, a bit of time outside, or a good night of sleep. There are many different kinds of needs.

I may enjoy writing, but spending a few hours doing it is still draining. It may seem self-indulgent to want a long, hot shower after doing something I love, but maybe I need that. Just because I nourished one part of me for a long period of time does not mean the rest of my needs have been fed. You can hold and cuddle a baby all day long, but she won’t stop crying if what she really needs is a diaper change. I have to nourish EACH part of me (and that includes getting out myself occasionally and filling my desire to be of service to others).

I can even convince myself that a phone call to a beloved friend is unwarranted after spending an hour responding to emails. While I may have filled my need for deep connectedness via letter-writing, I am missing a sense of immediate closeness. I may even need to go to a friend’s house to experience the physical presence of another person.

I can talk myself out of any kind of nourishing behavior just as easily as I can abuse another kind of behavior. I can put off simple acts of self care in the name of completing a home improvement project or preparing a gift for a friend. I can even put of certain forms of self-care in favor of other, “better” forms. For instance, I might insist that I read a spiritual or self-help book instead of a novel. Or I’ll try to make myself finish a song I’m working on when I really just need to play music without thinking.

I feel SO nourished when I simply allow myself to feel and go where I need to go. There are places I may not need to visit because they do not nourish me. There are certain friends that I only like to see after I feel completely physically and emotionally nourished because their homes are uncomfortable to be in or they do not connect with me on an emotional level. There are people I go to solely for companionship who may take more from me than they give. It doesn’t mean I like them less. It just means that our relationship works in a certain way, and I have to be aware that just because “visiting a friend” is one of my tools for feeling more grounded does not mean visiting CERTAIN friends is as beneficial as doing other things that make me feel connected.

If you’re looking for ways to feel more balanced in your life, you could try this little exercise (which I intend to do for myself). List out all the different ways that you feel nourished or loved. The list can contain things you like to do, people you enjoy being with, places you like to go, how you like your surroundings to be, types of physical touch that feel good, even work or volunteer service activities—anything that nourishes you physically, emotionally, intellectually, or spiritually.

Once you list the main things that make you feel good, think about each one and how often you use that item to feel nourished. Are there ones you use far more than others? Some you rarely use at all? Which ones do you want to incorporate more into your life?

If there are some that you use almost to the exclusion of others, you might want to consider whether you truly feel balanced. Are you nourishing your physical self when you really need to attend to your spirit? Are you nourishing your sense of connectedness with others while disregarding your intellectual needs?

I have puzzled a few times over friendships that seemed nourishing but that I had no interest in. I couldn’t figure out why I wouldn’t want to spend time with such perfectly all right people. After some inspection, I discovered that some of those relationships nourished me purely by providing an outlet for my caretaking side. I was able to care for these people and do things for them, but they weren’t capable of providing me with similar care. If I give and give and don’t receive intellectual stimulation, emotional support, or even physical care from a person, of course I will stop feeling compelled to spend time with him or her.

I had to let go of my guilt and take those relationships for what they were. It’s fine for me to continue to help them and hang out with them (although some relationships like that do need to end). But I need to realize that only the caretaker in me feels nourished by those relationships, so other needs will be left unmet. I have to make sure that I feel fully nourished before spending much time with people who cannot meet my needs.

Conversely, I have wondered why I was getting nothing out of certain friendships. I wanted to be friends, and it just wasn’t working. Well, I had to realize that I could not give what they needed. I did all the things for them that I do well, trying to nourish the friendship, but things never gelled. They didn’t feel compelled to grow closer to me because I could not provide the kind of care they needed.

That can be hard to accept, but being aware of what I am giving and what others need (and vice versa) has enlightened my friendships. This does not mean that I am inadequate or that the other people in my life need to shape up. We all simply have different things to give. Relationship dynamics are built on the compatibility of the ways we each receive and give love and support.

So – for today, I am exploring all the different ways I nourish myself, seeing if I’m neglecting any areas. I’m also examining the ways I relate with and nourish others. How do I need to stretch myself, and what parts of me do I need to accept? There are certain things that I can give right now and certain things I cannot. Can I accept these things and use this knowledge to make wise choices and grow? That’s the goal.

I Could Write about Anything

2009-03-11T23:04:00.001-05:00

Recovery is NOW. Happiness is NOW. These are the words I’m thinking…now. I can choose to behave in a totally new way at any moment. Life is open and free. Why do I often deny it?

I feel called to live a non-traditional life. Frankly, a life that would be “traditional” in my eyes is too difficult—impossible really. Even though I do believe that anything is possible, I don’t particularly care if the traditional life is achievable. I don’t want it. In fact, it would do me good just to take the prospect off my plate.

Let’s face it, I like to stand out a bit. Why would I wear scarves of every color and necklaces bigger than my face if I didn’t want some recognition!? Something in me is screaming, “This is not how it has to be!” And it isn’t. Life can be whatever we make it.

Of course, the kind of options that reality implies are not so inviting to a decision-phobe. “You mean, I can do ANYTHING I want?” I question. “Really?”

Yes! Anything. I can believe anything I want, do anything I want, think anything I want. Sure, there may be financial or geographical limitations, but the insurmountable boundary is rare (if not nonexistent). With a little ingenuity and the universe on our side, all truly is possible.

This means that when I feel bored with my life (as I have felt lately), I can choose to do something new. I can get out of the rut. It is possible. Working so hard to maintain a “regular” job or an “acceptable” body or a “reasonable” schedule wears me out! I cannot bear the pressure of having to portray a “normal” sort of lifestyle, sexuality, spirituality, fashion sense, ethics, or ideology. Of course, the “normal” I strive after is simply a construction I’ve made to drive me and only me insane. I wouldn’t hold anyone else to these ideals, but somewhere along the way, they were planted in my psyche.

I feel comfortable that what I am doing now will result in the fulfillment of those ideals, but I don’t want those ideals anymore! However, at this point, I’ve grown so attached to my safe routines that I fear releasing them. Nonetheless, I know that getting out of these unfulfilling routines simply requires that I try a few new things and break those routines a little bit. Now, if my feelings about my boredom and the solution are so obvious, why don’t I get out of the rut?

Ah, the eternal conundrum. Even though I have a pretty fierce love/hate relationship with most of the biblical Paul's writings, he was just another human being (despite sainthood), and I completely commiserate with his line in Romans 7:15, “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” Can anyone else with various addictions relate? I think some of you might, and probably practically every “normal” person out there, too.

How many times have each of us participated in behaviors that we do not want? Through therapy (or plain common sense), most of us learn that we practice those behaviors because part of us DOES want to do them. I engage in self-destructive patterns because part of me believes that they are helping me, because they enable me to somewhat express something I do not know how to express another way.

What is the key to breaking the cycle? Saying, “I’ll stop doing that”? No. What DOES work is finding something that provides what we’re looking for with less effort or hurt. The effort is in the FINDING of the thing that can replace the unsatisfactory behavior. And how do we get to the point of actively looking for the replacement? Ha! Your guess is as good as mine.

My experience has been that in order to break patterns that aren’t working for me, I have to develop new patterns that I love more than the old. In order to stop bingeing, I have to want something else far more than that immense amount of food. (It ultimately comes down to love, for love is really the greatest desire any of us can have.)

At first, there seems to be nothing I want more than that binge. What could possibly fulfill me more? Therefore, in the beginning, I have to do a little forcing of myself into new areas. I have to try different things, even if I don’t want to. I can come home and binge later, but I need to try something new first. Eventually, I might find something I truly enjoy. Then, I have to do the new thing more often and make it a pattern. The more I do the things that I love, the easier it is for my mind and body to remember how preferable those behaviors are to the binge.

It takes time and some effort. It isn’t always easy. But the solution is pretty simple, almost like a math equation. If I have more positive memories of one behavior, I’m more likely to do that than something else. I can change my “muscle memory,” in a way. Unfortunately, I repeat, it takes time and some effort.

Sometimes, I find it valuable to look into the “negative” behavior and honestly see what it is doing for me. I want to understand why I like it so much, why I am afraid to change it. I ultimately want to see what good lies within it, because nothing is all bad. (Once again, I dislike the words good and bad, but I’m using them. Damn the English language and linear thought! – although both are valuable ;) ) Sometimes, I can actually embrace a behavior I want to get rid of and see that it can work for me if taken down to its core.

Perhaps the desire to binge is really a desire for a healthy amount of food or simply a desire to feel full and taken care of. These desires can be acted on in other ways. And it’s always possible for me to eat a large meal or snack rather than zone out and enter into binge mode. I believe that it’s completely okay to indulge myself regularly. If I am truly listening to my emotional, spiritual, and physical needs, things balance out.

I am constantly seeking balance. I crave it. I need it. That’s why I often swing from one extreme to the other—not because I am averse to balance, but because I am trying to find it. If I restrict in one area of my life, I will do something else in excess. It’s hard to see that these extremes are really ways in which I balance myself.

I can trust myself to find the balance. When I trust myself to know what’s right, I’m more likely to sit down and listen intently to my real needs and desires. I absolutely CAN trust the light within. I do want the best for myself, and with a little creativity, I can get it in ways that lead to a life greater than I could ever imagine!

I hope that you all learn to trust yourselves and will take a little time (even ten minutes) this week to sit with yourself quietly and see what comes up. Be kind enough to ask yourself what you are feeling and what is going on.

Much love ~~

P.S. For the sake of being “real,” I must confess that I am currently struggling to show my imperfections to ANYONE, even my most trusted advisors and friends. Sure, I know all of this great, affirmative stuff, but am I applying it? Not so much these days. There are many things I am scared as all-fire to let go of. However, tonight I know recovery is NOW. Happiness is NOW. I am making different choices this evening, even if only a couple. And it will lead to success. The only way to break the fear of change is to change something and see what happens… Running the gauntlet, y’all.

Transplantation

2009-03-08T23:40:00.000-05:00

We bid a fond farewell today to our dear friend the narcissus plant. It taught me many valuable lessons, but as its little red pot proved insufficient for long-term growth, its flowers faded. I considered finding a place to transplant it outside but could never locate a prime spot. Plus, I’m not a big fan of dirt in general. Mud in between my toes—yes. Dirt in the typical gardening sense—no.

Part of the joy was seeing it every day, thriving in my apartment, in its bed of rocks. Therefore, I am now considering creating a larger rock garden. If I can avoid the nuisance of soil, I can do it. But we shall see.

The narcissus plant simply got too big for its container. It was time to move on, and that’s exactly the way I feel personally. There are patterns of behavior I’ve been involved with for a while that I no longer find attractive. I’m ready to let go and allow myself to experience fullness and rest while also going out a little more than I have been. I’m moving on. I don’t have to force it. It’s just time, and I will do the little things I can to live differently each day. Time for me to find a bigger container for all the lessons I’ve been learning.

The big life. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. Every time I think I’ve reached it, I discover that I can go somewhere even more expansive.

Right now, though, I will confess some anxiety over my financial situation and my physical situation. It’s time to get enough food and rest but also make sure ends meet. I’m handing this over to a higher power for now, trusting that everything is okay right now, I’m doing the best I can to ensure relative stability, and the future will be okay, too.

I know that many of you are also feeling the crunch of tough economic times, and I want you to know that I’m with you. Others are in the midst of eating disorders and addictions with no out in sight. Believe me, I have come face-to-face with the reality of how much I still struggle with food, exercise, and body size. These things need to be dealt with, no matter how strongly I feel I should have said goodbye to them long ago.

Don’t let pride stop you from asking for help in areas where you may need it. Areas I like to think I can totally control are the most difficult to expose. I hope that if I need assistance, I will be able to admit it. For me, just writing that I have fears in the financial and eating disorder areas counts as a major step.

Like I said, I’m moving on to a bigger container, one that can hold my anxiety, my basic eating disorder-related fears, all that I am learning, and all the new experiences and relationships that lie ahead. I may be frightened now, but part of me is also courageous and ready for anything. Life has always worked out in the past, and it will work out now—better than I could dream. That’s true for you, too!

Worth a Look - at the Houston Center for Photography

2009-02-28T18:31:00.001-06:00

I visited the Houston Center for Photography today and saw a thought-provoking exhibit that hit home for me. Beauty Knows No Pain features images by O. Rufus Lovett and Leah DeVun that examine the expression and perception of femininity in contemporary American culture. Lovett’s work follows the Kilgore Rangerettes, a well-known drill team that dresses in boots, hats, and cowgirl-style skirt sets typical of Texas cheer or drill teams. DeVun has photographed young girls dressed up in Hannah Montana gear, complete with the blond wigs, flashy jewelry, and black leggings girls beg their parents to buy them at Wal-mart.

I first made my way through the Rangerette photos, a group of images dating from 1989 to today, and the smile would not leave my face. The joy in those girls’ expressions combined with the unbelievable contortions some were performing reminded me of the strength within all of us. Although some might say that the short skirts and even the entire idea behind drill teams in general pigeon-hole women into a negative female stereotype, I found the images satisfyingly wholesome. I could tell these girls worked hard and did their best to put on an amazing show.

I also connected with what I imagined might lie behind those pasted-on smiles. It was obvious that the girls loved what they were doing. Nonetheless, what they do is ultimately a show, and the performers have real lives beyond the kick-up-yer-heels routines. In those photos, I saw real girls demonstrating their strength, teamwork, and beauty in a forum acceptable to our society.

I have little doubt that eventually drill teams like the Rangerettes will be phased out as old-fashioned. But places where women can work together as a team and show their strength while being appreciated for their beauty will always exist. These elements are critical to almost every woman’s maturation. Entities like the Rangerettes provide a place for women to express their femininity, and they serve as one portrayal of femininity in our culture.

Is this portrayal positive or negative? Probably a little of both. The main thing is not to see it as a whole. The Rangerettes and the images of them represent one version of femininity (although that version may be multi-layered and different for every girl depicted in the photos and every person who sees them). Viewing possibilities for women through a narrow scope limits everyone in our culture. There are many more ways to be a woman.

Speaking of those many different ways, I moved on to DeVun’s portion. I expected my smile to continue. I usually adore seeing happy little girls playing dress up. Instead, I walked through with a slightly troubled feeling in my stomach. The girls didn’t seem happy, and they didn’t seem like they had chosen their outfits to dress up in. Society had chosen their outfits. Their very self-expression had arrived pre-packaged in a cardboard box labeled “Hannah Montana.” No doubt these girls are finding their way through girlhood in America, doing the best they can to express themselves with the tools given, but in their wigs and bangles, they seem prematurely adolescent. Seven year olds draped in scarves and already projecting the slightly bored expression worn by too many fashion models makes even a cynic long to gift these girls with a childhood—a childhood not branded with Disney.

Granted, I have a slight resentment against Disney. After I worked for them, the Walt Disney synergy so overwhelmingly diffused throughout American (and global) culture became too downright creepy to enjoy anymore. I still haven’t completely rid myself of that “ick” in my belly.

More than that, though, the juxtaposition of these two ways of expressing femininity (the Rangerettes and Hannah Montana) made me consider all the other ways women are portrayed and how I want to portray myself. What tools are given to me for the purpose of self-expression? Do I use those tools? Do the portrayals society gives me affect or distort how I view myself as a woman? Have these images limited me? Did they at one time? How can I transcend popular representations of women and assert my true self, loving every bit of it? Can I dissect those popular representations and determine the truths they hold from the lies?

In any case, the exhibit is certainly worthwhile. And at the astoundingly reasonable price of FREE, Beauty Knows No Pain serves as yet another example of why the Houston Center for Photography is one of my favorite places to go.

In this same vein, photographer Shelley Calton will be giving an artist talk at the Houston Center for Photography on March 25th at 7pm. She’ll also be signing copies of her new book Hard Knocks: Rolling with the Derby Girls. This collection and her last one, Invisible Thread, offer more images that remind viewers of feminine strength and the things that tie us all together as women. She’s worth checking out.

Best wishes, love, and strength to you all! Men and women alike.

Who Else Needs a Vacation?

2009-02-28T12:04:00.001-06:00

I’m having a difficult time getting out of my routine. For a long time, I walked according to my “live differently” philosophy, which suggests doing something different or differently every day. Usually, this was easy, and I accomplished it without thinking. Nowadays, I wonder how often I really get out and do something out of the ordinary.

I get so tied up in my routine, thinking that it keeps me safe or in control, when, in fact, it does none of that. I can do everything to the best of my ability, making sure I accomplish every piddling task I can think of, and things can still go wrong. I cannot singlehandedly control the weather or the economy or even my moods sometimes! Although my schedule makes me feel safe, it’s an illusion. And getting out of it is often the only way to remember the safety and beauty beyond the boundaries I have constructed.

The "live differently" philosophy never stipulates that the “different” thing has to be anything grandiose or exciting. It can be driving to work a new way or visiting a restaurant I’ve never been to. It could be doing laundry in the morning instead of the evening or wearing an outfit I might never have picked out for myself.

At this point, however, I question whether I even want to put out the effort to do something new. For today, I am challenging myself to make small talk with anyone who crosses my path. It’s been a rather interesting endeavor and has provided an outlet in an otherwise solitary day. I wonder if it’s really satisfying this urge for newness, though.

I’m busy at work and am doing quite well at it if I do say so myself. However, something in me longs to get COMPLETELY out of my routine and away from work, too. Doing just one thing differently per day would be nice, but I desire a true getaway. I’ve never taken a vacation for myself purely in the name of relaxation. My excursions have always been to visit someone or see some new site or perform a specific task—never a complete pampering.

The few roadtrips I’ve taken have been fun, but they weren’t exactly relaxing. Things are always a bit harried on the road, and you never know what could happen. Still, I’d take a road trip with a couple of friends. I’ve always wanted to head up the west coast, from San Diego, through San Francisco, through Oregon (where I’d see some family), and up into Canada. It’s not well-thought-out, but these are the sorts of travel dreams I have. That… and Italy ;)

For about a year now, I’ve been trying to pick a place to go on vacation, but I come up empty and can’t seem to make a definite decision. This shouldn’t surprise me; I tend toward decidophobia. Still, everyone needs a vacation now and then, even if it’s just a vacation from the ordinary. Getting out of one’s routine can drop a person back off in her life with renewed creativity to live life the way that is best for her, not strictly according to pattern.

That’s what I want: a shot of the different. A one week escape from all things usual, just to remind myself that things can be wonderful without the steady flow I’ve set up for myself. That steady flow is nice…but can also bore me to tears.

Anyway, I suppose this is simply a plea to get out and get back to living differently. For today, I’m content with making conversation with strangers, but I will put forth effort and visualization towards an escape in the near future. It’s about time…

Still Growing

2009-02-24T19:11:00.000-06:00

To expand upon my previous post and the numerous metaphors that can be drawn from my experience with the narcissus plant, I would like to draw your attention to the rocks. You can plant narcissus bulbs in a garden or in your lawn, and they spring as daffodils or one of their many varieties (mine are paperwhites). But they can and will grow in ROCKS.

So – no matter if it looks like circumstances would make it impossible for you to grow or succeed, you can. You can grow in the rocks. Beauty can spring up from the hard places, and that beauty is no less valuable than the kind that grows in perfectly manicured gardens. Let some miracles happen today!

Grow, Plant, Grow!

2009-02-21T15:49:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago, some lovely friends gave me a narcissus bulb. I smiled and accepted my parting gift, feeling a combination of uncertainty, burden, and dread. Did I want to attempt to grow this plant? Never before had I tried to grow a living thing within my own home. I’d cared for cut flowers and watered roommates’ and employers’ ferns and ivy, but I had never in my adult life planted a flower and seen if it would grow. For whatever reason, I always had a sneaking suspicion that plants and Michelle did not make for a pleasant combination. “Surely nothing in my care could grow and flourish!” I thought.

Well, I kept the bulb in its paper sack on my kitchen counter for a while, eventually taking the little strip of growing instructions out and reading them. Hmmm, I’d need a pot, some rocks/pebbles, and some water. No pot, no pebbles, but water I had… Considering that this job would not require anything as messy as soil, I began opening up to the idea of nurturing this thing to life.

Then, one night at the store, I opted to go by the gardening section, where I picked out a smart red pot. For a few days, this sat beside the bulb on the kitchen counter. Eventually, the bulb made it into the pot along with some water. (I started worrying that the bulb would die if I didn’t do SOMETHING with it.) And I stared at it, wondering if I really wanted to do this thing.

That weekend, I ventured into a flower shop where I bought, yes with money, a bag of rocks. To my surprise, at this point, regular rocks I could find just wouldn’t do. I wanted smooth, round, multi-colored stone for my dear narcissus bulb. I had grown attached to the idea of this plant and the possibility that it could be something other than the brown, onion-like creature languishing on my countertop. Perhaps it wouldn’t rot from too much water and lack of early care if it liked its surroundings.

That very day, I arranged the rocks, bulb, and water in the pot as instructed, feeling doubtful that the bulb would still be in the mood to take root and grow after having been put off for so long. And it seemed highly unlikely that anything could grow with nothing more than a small pot and some pebbles. I mean, I don’t know many things that grow in rocks except for moss and other, less appealing creepy crawlies.

Despite my misgivings, a few days later, I walked past the bulb, and it was opening. A funny, little sprout poked through the top of the shell. I was shocked. Completely shocked. I don’t know how long I examined that first hint of life or how many other times I revisited the plant that day, but I was obsessed with the fact that something could grow with the relatively minimal effort I put into it.

As the days have passed, I confess that it is the delight of my day to pass by that plant in the morning and evening. Every time I see it, I marvel at how tall and elegant it is becoming. It seems to shoot up another two inches or sprout another bunch of leaves every twelve hours. I am mesmerized.

I ask myself, “How am I growing this?” And suddenly, a surprising answer returns. I’m not growing anything. I helped. I did a couple of things that were within my power to do; I bought a pot and some rocks and put it all together. Sure, I talk to the plant and change its water, but I’m not growing it. Growing is just what it does.

And so it is with me. Growing and maturing is just what I do. I go through life; I do things and don’t do things. I make choices and may even do a few self-help-type activities along the way. But I’m not making myself grow. I’m not making myself age or acquire knowledge. It’s just what I do.

That’s a load off. I can relax and enjoy life a little more, knowing that somehow, I am like my gorgeous narcissus plant. I am taller and more vibrant than anyone could imagine. The universe looks at me and marvels at my progress and the beauty that I am. And the universe understands that that’s just what I do, like every other person, equally engaging, equally surprising, ever-evolving, and growing into creations nothing could have imagined before now.

It also comforts me to know that all the things I think I need to work so hard to preserve can be left alone for a time. They will grow or decrease and change on their own. I can rest, knowing that I can contribute and take credit for giving of myself to things, but it’s a stretch to say that I alone made something evolve into whatever it has become.

Bottom line, we are all powerful beings, so powerful that by merely existing, we create and are miracles. Take the effort to put some rocks and water together, and you might experience more than you could ever have dreamed.

A Dozen Roses

2009-02-15T18:15:00.000-06:00

I think many of us have pondered the notion of flowers as gifts. On some level, giving a flower says, “Here is a beautiful object. Now, you have to take care of it, but even if you do, it will still shrivel up and die. Oh, here’s a tiny packet of magic powder that will make it last a couple more days at least!” If this is a metaphor for love, who wants it?

Well, I’ve decided that maybe I do. Sure, eternal love is a nice thought, but until I reach that level with someone, I’m okay with a flower-like love—beautiful, fragrant, gentle, and when it fades, it fades. Put some effort and sparkle into it, and it might last a little longer.

I mean, I almost feel like a fraud telling someone I’ll love him or her forever. Is that possible? Can I really say that? The cynic in me emerges when I hear other couples exchange vows of unending love and rapture. It’s not that I don’t believe that they currently feel that way. I simple know the truth of what I’ve observed. Forever love is possible, but it’s certainly not the norm.

Throughout all aspects my life, the temporary nature of most things comforts me. In the midst of my eating disorder especially, every decision seemed so weighty, every feeling so insurmountable, every challenge so unending. Nowadays, I can face feelings and know that they will end. I may feel sad now, but I may not tomorrow—or even in as little as an hour. Feelings are fleeting.

Situations are temporary, too. A heinous roommate, a broken-down car, an electrical outage—they are all situations that can be moved out of or changed. Most illnesses even fall into this category. Most of the time, we just need to keep taking steps, any steps, and we will get out of the muck much faster than if we lay down and cry because our options appear nonexistent. (Of course, lying down and doing nothing can be entirely appropriate, but doing nothing can be considered a step in itself. Life is contradiction. Deal with it.)

Knowing that things will change and move with or without my effort takes a weight off of my shoulders. If I don’t like the bouquet life has given me, it will die pretty soon anyway. I can even throw it away before it dies if I want to! Sometimes, I have to wait for things to change on their own; other times, I can help speed the process. The bottom line is, I’m never stuck. Things are always moving, and there’s always an opportunity for growth and a place for newness to slip in.

Now that I’ve defended a cynical disbelief in eternal love, I’ll turn to the small percent of love that verges on deserving the adjective “forever.” It seems to me that the love that lasts a lifetime is really a series of different loves strung together and evolving in and out of one another. Other languages have dozens of words for love, an idea for which the English language is sadly lacking. Those other languages explicitly recognize what we all know: There are many different kinds of love.

And I need different kinds of love. I don’t always need the kind of love that gives me things all the time. Sometimes, I need a love that shows me how to deal with not having what I want. Sometimes, I need admirers; other times, I need peers or even pity. Sometimes, a mother love is best, then a father love, then a friend love, then a romantic love.

Of course, emotional love is important, but so is love that takes action and does things that say, “I love you.” Some kinds of love are less actionable but no less deep. Some loves baby us, and other loves tell us to buck up and move on. Some love accepts us exactly as we are, and another love might encourage us to change. All of these kinds of love, and more, cycle in upon each other and take turns.

There may be times in a relationship when two people treat each other more as friends, then more as lovers, then more as colleagues. The pros at this learn to integrate all kinds of love. They appreciate the diverse methods of love-showing instead of getting stuck in a single idea of love. And most importantly, I think, forever lovers remain open to the idea that love could change, and they embrace that change and love in whatever way they are capable of at the time.

No love is perfect, or maybe that means it’s all perfect.

Anyway, my final conclusion is that flowers are, in fact, an entirely appropriate representation of love. As if it even needed to be said…

Just As I Am

2009-02-07T15:07:00.001-06:00

As I sit down to write this entry about the importance of being okay with where I am right now, the only sentence that flies to my mind is: Am I okay with where I am?

I don’t think that I am completely okay with me. I feel perpetually in-between. I’m never perfect but never in the gutter. I’m doing some of the things I want to do and not others. I want to be doing better than I am.

This reflects my consistent inability to stay in the moment. I’m always a few steps ahead, to the career, the love, the vacation, the success, the serenity, or the wisdom I will have “one day.” Shortly after I picture that imaginary future, all the things I have to do to get there pop into my head. The moment is interrupted by a barrage of things I need to do. I’ll have to write this many songs and meet this many people and go to this many places and wear these sorts of things and look this sort of way and learn these types of things and become, become, become…until I can’t remember who I am right now.

Am I okay right now? Is it okay to accept myself, even though I don’t measure up to so many standards I created along the way? Can I erase the potential futures from my mind and enjoy what I do have and, most importantly, who I am.

If I stop fixating on images of the person I foresee myself being, I may discover that I am not the sort of woman who really wants to match those images—or who even could match them if she tried. I may grow in a different direction. By accepting myself now, as I am, I open up the possibility that I could be completely successful in this very moment. Instead of dictating to myself who I should be and laying out maps to where I will go, I can discover who I actually am and let my feet do the walking.

It troubles me that I dislike so many of my behaviors. I like myself, but I don’t always understand the things I do. I seem so strange at times, so contradictory. When my behavior doesn’t synch with who I am, maybe instead of focusing on the behavior, I can focus on looking into myself. Maybe I have misconceived of myself somehow. I’m not saying that I’m not who I think I am, but there may be an additional part of myself in conflict with my current self-image. There may be something in me I have not explored.

I’m sure there are vast regions of yourself that you may have neglected, intentionally or not. I hope we all slow down and make it into a conversation with the people we really are, so that those selves can come out and live life. I bet that reality is far better than the ideals we strive so hard to attain.

Come on, Beautiful People!

2009-02-01T15:08:00.001-06:00

Jumping off of last week’s entry, I want to comment on another great, and very prevalent, tragedy.

When people do not believe they are beautiful, I feel sad. Sure, there are people who we consider more attractive than others, but the scale of attractiveness we use is only relative at best. Ugliness in some cultures is beauty in others.

To be honest, I have never met someone I thought was hideously ugly. Even when introduced to people who do not strike me as immediately attractive, I can think of a few simple things they could do that would increase their appeal. Yes, this is judging. I judge. I try not to, but it’s often instantaneous. Nonetheless, I’m being honest. The basic truth is that I cannot think of anyone who I would say lacks the potential for physical appeal. Of course, even the things I might propose to enhance their appearance might be completely unnecessary for another individual who thinks that the “unattractive” person is just fine without any changes at all. Beauty is relative.

Moving on, people can feel ugly for numerous reasons, but such feelings usually seem to be the result of a fixation on a particular imperfection, whether that “fault” currently exists or not. For example, adults who had severe acne as teenagers often still feel insecure about their skin. It’s only natural, especially if they were ridiculed or shunned in any way for it. I’ve known people who thought they had big noses or disgusting thighs, and they couldn’t see past that one element. That single hang-up blocked the image of the gorgeous person they truly were, regardless of whether that one flaw was real or imagined.

Most of us know how painful—and even boring—it is to hear a perfectly handsome individual tear him or herself down. We see the truth. We know the person is beautiful, but when they don’t see it, it’s tragic.

However, do we consider the way we speak to ourselves? Do I? Really?

Do I give myself the same benefit of the doubt as I give to others? Do I truly recognize that whatever weight I am, whatever acne may have erupted overnight, whatever the state of my hair, I can still look attractive? Maybe not everyone would think I was gorgeous, but no matter how my outward body may be behaving, I can maintain cleanliness, wear flattering clothes, and smile. Simply walking around confident that I am strong and beautiful, pulling out the joy within, can make a world of difference. Ultimately, the inner radiance is what sticks with people anyway.

Do I really believe this? I hope to get there. I hope to be even more fully accepting of myself, not just as I am now, but as I could be at any other time. I can get wrapped up in thinking that I must do everything possible not to let go of the beauty I have today, thinking, “I look fabulous today, but what about two weeks from now? What can I do to keep this good thing going?”

It’s a ridiculous cycle in which, although I embrace myself for who I am today, I weigh myself down with the burden of “keeping it up,” as if outward appearance were the most important thing. Many things go into how a person appears, and my sad, tired expression after trying to maintain too-strenuous workouts or too-restrictive eating patterns decrease my beauty far more than a few pounds would.

Anyway, I’d like to refer you to the following blog entry that caught my eye:
http://digestiondujour.blogspot.com/2009/01/kate-says-that-shes-fat-and-i-believe.html

She’s a fellow Houstonian and one of my favorite bloggers. Her post echoes many of my sentiments on this subject in a more pointed way. She refers to an article by another writer, Kate Harding, that I also encourage you to read:
http://www.salon.com/mwt/excerpt/2009/01/24/kate_harding/index.html

Kate Harding’s site is also worth a look. Three writers dish on fat acceptance and all the nuances therein:
Shapely Prose: http://kateharding.net/

In any case, I hope you all love yourselves a bit more today than yesterday and that you look for the light in others, beyond appearance, knowing that life is so much more than we see. Our appearance can change drastically from day to day and year to year. What really counts are our personal journeys. The outer ultimately has little meaning. Most of us would agree with that statement, but do we believe it… down to our beautiful bones?

We All Have It

2009-01-24T12:15:00.002-06:00

“Every man has his own courage, but is betrayed because he seeks in himself the courage of other persons.”
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

This quote struck me today. We are all more courageous than we think. And we all contain much more of many other things than we think. What I have is not what you have. What you have does not belong to me. Each person is gifted with a unique blend of talents, propensities, and traits. In each person, the combination is perfectly balanced to complement the best life he or she could lead. We struggle many times because we refuse to believe that what we have is perfect, oftentimes looking at the tiny bit we see in others and believing that we fall short.

Number one, no one has it all together. We are all doing this life thing, figuring it out piece by piece. When someone sells him/herself short, it saddens me. None of us is doing all that much better than the next person. We see so little of other people, in fact, from the outside.

Number two, each of our unique make-ups work exactly as they should. If we don’t think we’re working correctly, perhaps we need to more closely examine who we are. We so often cover our true selves up with images of what we think we should be or what we think other people want. With the barrage of images and social connections available to us these days, it’s so easy to bury ourselves in stimuli. We then start replacing the reality of who we are with that stimuli, as if the doings and representations of our life reflect our essence.

Essence has little to nothing to do with our actions. Behaviors reflect inner goings-on, but they don’t spell out who we are. We may behave in ways contrary to our natural beings because another part of us is denying the true self.

~

At this point, I want to dig myself out of this all too heady blog. It’s a brain-full. Let’s return to the quote.

First, I want to believe in my own courage. I demonstrate it every day and want to hold on to the strength that is within me. Second, comparing myself to others never does a lick of good. Comparison is a slippery slope.

Please don’t compare yourself to me. People only see a tiny bit of me. They don’t know the truth of my struggles and triumphs. When I appear to be having a hard time, there are usually many great things also happening in my life. When I look like I’m on top of the world, don’t doubt for a moment that I’m battling something in my quiet hours or that I cry most nights of the week. That’s my life, a life of both.

I can hold both—sadness and happiness, hope and discouragement, love and hate, fear and courage—at the same time. As a human, I can. And I do it in my own special way.

I hope that you, too, can recognize the unique wonder you carry, the special balance that makes you who you are. I have yet to meet someone who I didn’t think had numerous treasures to give the world. The saddest thing for me is when someone does not believe he or she has those treasures. When someone says, “I’m a terrible person,” I never know how to respond. I simply get a terrible feeling. I know that the statement isn’t true, but by asserting that there isn’t anything good inside to share, that person blocks the potential outward transmission of the goodness that does exist within him/her. It’s sad. And I always know I’m missing out on something when a person makes a comment like that.

So, own your courage. Own who you are! Believe in your own potential. The rest of us believe in it. I guarantee you. Just because who you are doesn’t look like the success story down the street doesn’t mean you aren’t equally successful.

For today, I am confident in who I am, no matter what I think of it, and I seek to help others strip away whatever hides who they are. I’m anxious to see people throw away caution and speak from their hearts.

Give What You Want to Get

2009-01-18T18:56:00.000-06:00

A short reminder for everyone: Give what you want to get. It works!

I often feel that I work so hard to reach out to people and stay connected only to receive nothing in return. Sometimes it seems as if I give and give and am still left with days devoid of anyone reaching out to me. I want to feel connected with people, but I even more deeply desire for that connection to be initiated by someone else. I don’t want to have to call or go visit. I want to be invited.

Well, such is not life most of the time, at least for me. I have to reach out first, and then, more often than not, I receive a flood of phone calls and maybe a couple of invitations, reminding me that I am reached out to when I take that first, difficult step of getting outside my own head and calling out into the world. Usually, a simple phone call to a person I think will appreciate it starts the ball rolling.

Perhaps the human life is, ultimately, a lonely one. Mine certainly feels that way much of the time. But that loneliness can spur us on to give to others and seek connection. I seem to prefer alone time more than most people, but I do not want to wither away without deeply knowing other people or being equally known by others. This longing draws me out, even when I think, “I’ve certainly made enough effort in the last two weeks to invite people places, call them, or give them things. Why does no one call me on the spur of the moment? I’m going to wait it out until someone calls.” Eventually, I realize that I have, in fact, received many a spur-of-the-moment call. I am invited a great many places, although oftentimes, they are not invitations I feel inclined to accept.

The fact is, I already have the love I seek within me. When I call someone, even when I think I’ve already made plenty of gestures that should warrant some incoming affection, I undoubtedly experience a shift in thinking. When the other person answers and starts telling me about his or her life, the world opens up. Suddenly, there is more to life than me; other people are having fun and struggling in different ways than I am.

And strangely, after hanging up after what is usually a most satisfying conversation (if it’s not, I typically call someone else), I’ll start getting those invitations and phone calls I craved. It may not be until the next day, but I take note of the influx of communication that appears to result from a small release on my part.

To many of you, this is probably obvious, but I seem to be a bit of a dunce with social things sometimes. Making phone calls can be difficult. Nowadays, it’s easier and easier, and I love the people around me more and more. But I can still get down and start feeling that everyone gets much more attention than me or that no one ever thinks of me like I think of them. Because of the newfound connectedness in my life (and a few enlightening pearls of wisdom from my mother), I now see that everyone feels that way at times.

So, when I started feeling less loved than everyone else in the world this weekend, I reminded myself that there are probably other people in my life feeling unloved now, too. So I called one. Who knows if she was feeling unloved at the time, but she definitely wanted to talk. And I am incredibly grateful for that. We ended up going out and having a good time. And today, well, let’s just say I’m feeling the love—and also feeling incredibly productive. I have accomplished a lot today!

Turns out, I already had the love I wanted, but it took giving some away to see it. Plus, I gained even more. Hooray for the principle of giving what you want to get.

Happy giving!

Note: This idea apparently applies to almost everything else, too. If you want respect, give it. If you want time, give it. If you want enthusiasm, give it. If you want dedication, loyalty, structure, cleanliness, hugs, or support, give some away. All you need is already yours. Now, we get to the work of truly believing that…

Help? How Dare You!?

2009-01-11T16:45:00.001-06:00

I get angry when people offer me help. I can cry all day long for someone to come help me, but that doesn’t stop me from instinctively shoving the help away when it finally comes. This pattern has truly been a conundrum for me throughout the past few years. I’ll take a look at it, work on it a bit, get distracted, and then be reminded of it much later. Well, a few recent instances have alerted me to how my natural tendency to push help away has inhibited me in many aspects of life.

To fully uproot this issue, I will need to look into family of origin issues and many things from my past, but here, I would like to discuss a few possible reasons for my seemingly insane reaction to the kindness of others.

Number one, I perceive an offering of help as an implication of my own inadequacy. The questions that flood my mind go something like this: “Why would I need help with this? Why do you think I need help? Do you think I’m not capable or responsible?”

Most of the time, I do actually need help. Yes, many tasks would be easier if I would allow someone to assist me. However, something in me never wants to be weak. I want to prove to the world that I can make it on my own when, in reality, no one makes it alone.

Secondly, if someone offers help, I think, “Does he believe he is better than me? Does she think I’m stupid? I need to prove everyone wrong. I can do this! How dare you insinuate otherwise?”

Obviously, some people know more about certain things than others. Many tasks simply require more than one person to accomplish them, and observant people recognize this and are willing to help. It’s pretty arrogant of me to assert that I can accomplish the impossible alone.

Other times, when people come and offer help, I wonder if I have accidentally revealed my vulnerability. I panic and try to figure out how a person was able to see that I was struggling or needed help. I like to think I’m good at putting on masks and pretending everything is fine. When I am proven that my façade is not quite as opaque as I’d hoped, I feel I’ve failed and immediately try to assert that I don't need a thing. I desperately want whoever has seen through me to go away. "Don't remind me of my weakness!" I cry.

I would like to change my thinking. It’s okay to fail at pretending to be strong. It’s okay for people to see through my veneer. The true me is strong but also needs help.

A final issue I have with the helpers of the world: I don’t want to be told that something is wrong with me. Something in me believes that if I need help, there must be something off, something that needs fixing, about me. I want to be accepted and loved just as I am, and if someone offers help, I construe that to mean that they don’t love me as I am. And all I really want is to be loved exactly as I am. If I think that someone does not accept me, I determine to drive them away.

In recent years, I have discovered that peace is not a static place; it’s an ever-shifting journey. Extremes naturally pull at each other and create tension inside. This is the universal process of homeostasis. I am always SEEKING it. The work is never done; I will never reach a completely blank place. Peace is feeling the tension and knowing that it is okay. Therefore, I am learning to accept all sides of me – light and dark, confused and focused, kind and malicious, trusting and skeptical, happy and sad.

Not everyone understands that both parts can exist simultaneously. When those people offer advice, they are trying to fix something that does not need to be fixed. I loathe it when I admit to feeling sad, and listeners insist on providing dozens of ways to be happy (as if I haven't already thought of them) rather than just allowing me to be sad and feeling that sadness with me.

Regardless of the less emotionally intelligent among us, some people are honestly trying to help, not fix me. Those individuals love me and just want to make life a little easier. What’s so bad about that? I regret that I have rejected such offerings. Does every moment have to be hard to have meaning? No. Life is meant to be lived in community, however much or little of it I need at any given time. I enjoy helping others. Why balk when the same outpouring of love is offered to me?

In any case, these notions have yet to be fully explored. A lot of ideas live within this single issue. For now, though, I’m recognizing that I don’t want to be told that I’m “messed up” and need fixing. Because of that deeply entrenched desire, I need to take a little time to pause when people offer assistance so that I can appreciate moments when I do need help and fully love those souls who want to give it.

Despite my continual prayers for superpowers, I am not Superwoman. I’m still holding out hope for the power of flight, though…

The Joy of Replacing Bingeing

2009-01-07T18:11:00.002-06:00

May I say how good it feels simply to come home and NOT BINGE? Sometimes, I have to be reminded of this simple joy. Note that I did not say “come home, exercise, and not binge” or “come home, accomplish a dozen things, and not binge.” I forget that I can choose not to binge and then waste my time in some more (or less) creative fashion. No need to work out every second of the day or complete a single goal I’ve set. I don’t have to jump through hoops in order to ensure sane eating.

The sun is shining, and I feel good. I don’t have to exercise compulsively, I don’t have to binge, and, moreover, I don’t have to do a single thing. Of course, there are certain things it would behoove me to do, but no one will force me to pay my rent or clean my bathroom. I choose to do those things because they benefit my life. In the same way, I can choose to do nothing or even to do things that impact my life negatively. The main thing is that there are a million different ways of doing things, and most, if not all, of them are not “wrong.”

I want to try these different ways of living. I have reckoned a slower, softer side of me these past few days, reminding myself that I can take it slow and still get hungry. I can still accomplish important things, too, and stay in touch with people I love. The main thing preventing me from allowing a slower drift through life is mistrust in myself. I imagine that if I don’t do everything NOW, I may not do it all. But really, I have proven my responsibility, creativity, and capability time after time. Now is the moment to trust the universe and me.

I’ve seen remarkable things happen in the last couple of days. I have taken pleasure in the ways lives of people I know have intersected. They see miracles in their life, and it’s nice to talk about it with them. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m the only one who appreciates such little miracles. But other people do see it and love it as much as I do. And wonderfully, simply by observing or listening to the occurrences in their lives and then discussing them, I become a part of that miracle. It can extend to me, and I can connect with others, even help them.

Observation. It’s an important element of my non-binge time. I can sit and simply observe the world. That action never seems to have much worth until I look back at the convergence of all the things I’ve learned by observing alongside my association with others and things I read. Serendipity is everywhere. Every piece of living is worthwhile.

Anyhow, I mostly just wanted to share the simple joy of a gal in recovery, something I somehow stopped believing at some point during my disorder: I can eat a healthful amount (i.e., not binge and not restrict), abstain from exercise, and still get hungry later. My body really does take care of things! Added bonus: I experience more of life.

Sure, there are many things about food I want to explore and lots of ways I want to push my body in an energetic way. So many desserts, vegetables, mountains, and roads! But how much more is there if I will simply slow down…

The No-Routine Blues

2009-01-04T16:59:00.004-06:00

It’s official: Music seems to be the only productive thing I can safely assume I can do, no matter what mood or “place” I am in. Music is there. Even if I feel no motivation, somehow, I can squeak out a few notes or something. It’s solid.

And it’s all I can do today. I have dallied too long outside the routine of work, and I’m starting to lose my sanity. Although I’ve made sure to get out and do something social (no matter how tiny) each day, I’m faltering today. At least I return to the office tomorrow!

I have not been able to get out and do ANYTHING today. Luckily, I purchased a new keyboard yesterday and have been playing with it a bit. I cleaned some and worked on a freelance editing job I have. Okay, so not a fruitless day. But I still feel myself losing a firm grasp on my mind. ‘Tis my way…

These feelings are temporary. For now, I’ll sit back, amused at them, and hopefully, they won’t overwhelm me by the evening. I’m still truly grateful for this New Year and the fun I’ve already had in it. Things are shaping up nicely.

This year, I will give myself the gift of making decisions (refer to this earlier post for why simply making a decision is more important for me than making the "best one"). I will tell other people my dreams. I will be open to working with others to create the kind of world we want to live in. Of course, these are simply focal points. I’m not so big on resolutions. I can make those any old day! And discard them the next ~~

In any case, here’s a video of me messing with my new toy:

Simple and Sweet

2008-12-31T16:09:00.001-06:00

I recently wrote a simple, happy song called “Colors of You.” Something in me loves a simple, breezy song. I admire its sweetness because so few of my songs have that quality. I tend toward the intense ballad, which I enjoy equally, but those few lighthearted pieces are treasures in my heart.

This extends to life. I am attracted to high-drama, bold color, and intensity. I try to create these things and live within them. But when I happen upon a simple moment with just the right feeling and all the right colors, I smile and relax. I am relaxing right now, as the sun shines through my window and I have no pressing business to attend to until I return to work next Monday. Glorious.

This life is beautiful and precious. I don’t think any gems are wasted, even if I’m the only one here experiencing them. Perhaps someone else out there is experiencing a charmed moment, too, and in a way, we share it together. That makes my heart smile.

See, I’m as cheesy as it gets… and I’m owning it now. For years, I dismissed the lighter part of me ‑ the delicate, girly, Disney-feature-film (if you will) part of me. Now, I like and appreciate her. Cynicism gets you places, but not everywhere. The same can be said for the more rainbow-esque part of me. I’m glad to embrace both elements now.

Anyway, I wish you all 365 more jewel-like days in 2009. Hopefully, it will be the best year yet! For my part, I’m certain it will be. Sure, parts will smell like the used Trans Am of a 16-year-old boy without enough money or sense to purchase deodorant. But other parts will be fresh as a daisy! Hope it’s filled with whatever makes you happy (and if that’s stinky teenage boys, more power to you, as long as we’re in legal territory…).

Happy New Year!

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Oh, and it has come to my attention that more than one reader out there is restraining him/herself from commenting or emailing me after digesting my posts. Just wanted to say, feel free to comment or contact at any time! If people don’t comment because no one else does, then the ball never starts rolling. And even if it never starts rolling, I enjoy the few comments I do get, whether online or in person. Thanks to everyone! I appreciate you all more than you can know :)

A Perfect Day

2008-12-25T19:23:00.002-06:00

What is a perfect day? What would it take to create that kind of day? Could I recreate it over and over?

Naturally, the answers to these questions depend on a multitude of variables. Every day, the requirements change. Our goals change. Our circumstances change. There is no one perfect day. The potential "perfect" component combinations are infinite.

However, my most perfect days seem to be days when I start out wondering how I will make it through the day at all. Perhaps this is because, on those days, I consciously give over control to a higher power and recognize that I cannot determine the ultimate outcome of that day. I ask myself what would constitute a failed day and usually come up empty. Ultimately, it doesn't matter what happens. It's never the end of the world. I'm not out detonating nuclear bombs or anything.

I think one of my main problems is the over-importance I place on my life in general. I give it so much weight that it frightens me, as if my every move determined the course of the universe. And while my actions may have some effect on the universe, they more likely work within the context of a whole realm of other actions taking place everywhere else and as a result of the billions upon billions of things that occurred long before I ever existed on this planet. Things are moving along in the world, and it's rather arrogant to believe that I could have the power to throw the whole thing completely off-balance.

But wait! Can't I throw at least MY part of the world off-balance? And wouldn't that be scary?

Would it? Would it be so scary? Maybe things need to be thrown off every now and then.

Needless to say, the ingredients to a "perfect" day remain consistent: giving up control, relaxing, and doing WHAT I CAN (not things I WISH I could do). The best days are the ones that I let just be. And this is so hard for me to do...

Judgment has to be left by the wayside to create a perfect day. I have to stop second-guessing everything and allow my decisions to be my decisions. Things will get done. I can indulge. I can set schedules and plans. I can do whatever will be best in my life at the moment. I can try things. If it doesn't workout today, I can take notes so that I can make better choices in the future. It's okay to make mistakes. I am an aware person. I can learn from these things. No need to be afraid!

Holidays are the ideal times to test these ideas. I can create schedules if I want them or discard every routine, just to see what happens. I can set new standards or do things in different ways. There's usually a lot of time for reflection, so I can consider what I'm doing as I'm doing it. There may also be ample opportunities to celebrate and do new, interesting things. I can see how I react in situations with people I may have difficulty relating to and also get information from perspectives I do not typically access.

So, in conclusion, I am trying new things. I'm releasing some of my exercise and germ/health obsessions, or at the very least, I'm trying. I'm giving myself a chance to alter my patterns and ignore what others think about it while being open to unexpected wisdom. I can try to exist in a challenging location, away from home. Basically, I am encouraging myself to find home, wherever I am, maintaining openness to a concept of home that looks different than I initially imagined.

I am safe. I am at home...anywhere. A good mantra.

The Other Side

2008-12-19T20:30:00.003-06:00

There is another side to all of us, a side that isn't regularly seen. I talk myself out of it all the time.

But that other side is important. What lies there, though often socially unacceptable, is part of who I am. And the universe ultimately accepts that side with the same love as the part that exhibits itself more readily.

I am exploring this side by incorporating another blog:
http://myundercurrent.blogspot.com/

It will be for unfiltered expression. We'll see if I am able to actually use it for that purpose. Here is where I try to express a whole self. There, I want to get the part out that may be overlooked at times. It's a vague idea right now, but I want to play with it.

Without a Promise

2008-12-17T18:02:00.006-06:00

As part of my continuing effort to figure out the best recording/online publishing options for myself, here's a weblog of a recent song I've been working on. The sound quality is less-than-desirable, but it's this or nothing for now. Enjoy!

(And yes, I am aware of the sound not matching the video in my previous post. This one looks good to me. For better-synched clips, check out the videos at my MySpace page at www.myspace.com/michellecowanmusic.)

Hold My Hand

2008-12-13T22:23:00.005-06:00

Came across this old song today and wanted to share it with you all. It touched my heart to play it again after a few years have passed...

Has the Universe Assigned Me a Special Role?

2008-12-13T19:02:00.002-06:00

Sometimes, I feel like the designated Cosmic Container of Sorrow. I have no personal reason to be sad, except the usual underlying sadness that most humans carry, but I cry and lay around and feel sadness pumping through me so often. I even relish it! I feel happy to feel sad. I feel happy to feel anything, so I pick up sadness and run.

I think that if some divine hand were to affirm my role as the “Cosmic Container of Sorrow,” I would be more accepting of it. I could hold my head high as a strong person, capable of taking on and expressing the sorrow of the universe, rather than pondering over my feelings and wondering why I’m not happy-go-lucky or if I am just a whiney baby.

I’m not a crybaby, I don’t think. One of the things that makes the sadness linger is often my reluctance to share my weakened, sad condition with others. And as I said in an earlier post, I’m working to open up earlier and more often. But recognizing that doesn’t make it easier. The sadness I felt earlier today is fading right now, but oh, it gets so strong.

I definitely long for other emotional people to share these things with, but I find myself consistently stymied when trying to think of who to call or talk to. I wish people would come out of the woodwork and help me express my emotions. I imagine someone who would stick with me through my ups and downs and my frequent lack of desire to be with people. He or she would also encourage me to get out and be with others when appropriate.

Immediately following this fantasy, I realize that no one will probably be able to do that. Perhaps… I believe in miracles. But until the miracle happens, I have to learn to do these things myself. Will I??

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I’m also in the midst of looking for more ways to expand in the virtual realm. Will I create my own website? Possibly. Will I try to use it as a landing page where I can advertise myself as a speaker and performer? I would. I just have to explore the available avenues. I can build a web presence, and I can create a community space for people to come together. I am interested in these things.

Hmmm, now I’m fantasizing about someone who can help me do that. Ugh… Do I really have to bother with making friends and all that jazz?? ;)

Trust the Instinct

2008-12-08T10:51:00.000-06:00

Somewhere along the way, I picked up the notion that I should second-guess every inclination. However, life as of late has repeatedly confirmed the validity of my natural instincts. So - why do I resist trusting myself?

It’s difficult to believe in something without outside confirmation. I long for someone or something else to say, “Yes, Michelle, that is the best course of action,” no matter how strongly I already feel that sentiment. How will I know who to trust, what career path to go down, where to live, which shirt to wear, or whether I should run my errands before or after lunch?

Despite my doubts, I have a fantastic track record of predicting which friendships I will want to deepen after only a couple of meetings. I also seem to finish tasks that need to be accomplished on time, without too much stress… except during the process of deciding which task to take on first. I am now trying to remember that, just as I am now attune to when I am hungry and typically what I am hungry for, I know the best actions to take or if there are multiple, equally beneficial courses that present themselves during the day. Somewhere inside me, I contain this wisdom.

Trusting that gift of wisdom is a process. I am continually learning to discern between ego-powered impulse and true, universal intuition. When peace rests beneath the instinct, it’s usually worth following.

Even if I mess up and follow a course that I wish I hadn’t, life has never ended. I approach things with an open, true heart, and if I make a mistake, it can’t keep me down for long. I simply learn. I make the choice and move on. And I must say, Little Miss Indecisive is making some big strides. Who knew I would ever believe that there are no mistakes? Truly.

Now that I trust instinct, I find that my life follows a miraculous sort of rhythm. I end up synching with other people’s schedules and having time for everything. I watch the lives of people who agonize far less about daily decisions and take note of those who seem in tune with something greater. It is possible to follow a natural course, not over-think things, and still live a successful life (though it might not be successful in the way I initially envisioned it).

Growing up, I never conceived that a person could excel and enjoy life without pre-plotting every step. Letting go of my compulsive need to plan and control is difficult, but I’m learning firsthand how healthy and freeing it is to let life take its course rather than remaining chained to the construction of personal forecasts and predictions. If I spend all my time building nets to catch myself in case I should fall, I have no time left to climb the ladders and take the leaps that make living a worthwhile adventure.

Here’s to trusting myself to know when to make healthy preparations and when to release my fears and simply LIVE.

A Blog in Parts

2008-12-06T17:06:00.002-06:00

What if I systematically removed person after person from my life? What if I chose not to associate with one person at a time, until the only one left was me? Could I then eliminate myself?

I wouldn't choose that. I sometimes fear that I'll choose it, but the true Michelle never would. She reaches out and loves but also retreats into a quiet space at times. I'll let the universe choose the ebb and flow of people in my life.

I want to live inside music. Nowhere else feels safe in the same way. The outside world melts away, and everything I do is permissible -- glorious even.

Perhaps the truth is that I already do live inside music. I come alive in my music. When I share it with others, I hope they can see a little bit of what I am like fully alive, fully free, liberated, and happy. Alone, I enjoy; I curl up in comfort. I regain something every time I lose myself in a song.

I would also like to live inside a giant pile of clothes fresh from the dryer... if it were possible to breathe inside the mound ;)

A New Project: Sharing Emotions...without thinking them away

2008-11-23T22:01:00.001-06:00

I miss the boat. It takes me quite a while to connect with people, and I always feel that I miss numerous chances to take relationships to that infamous “next level.” Up to now, I have blazed a trail of mostly shallow friendships that I don’t discover are shallow until well after I assume I’ve opened up and connected “adequately.” Luckily, at this point, I am better able to gauge the true depths of my friendships and enjoy a few truly wonderful, strong connections. For the longest time, however, I remained puzzled as to why so many of my relationships stayed on the surface, leaving me unsatisfied.

Well, a revolution this week has enlightened my situation somewhat: I don’t admit my vulnerability. Of course, I am a strong woman who can care for herself, but that does not mean I am without needs and desires that I would rather not fulfill on my own. I need help so much of the time. I feel alone. I feel afraid. I feel confused. I long to be really known and to know others. Can others sense this about me? Do I ever admit to any of that?

I have been doing so well with feeling my emotions, and I’m even better at working through them, rationalizing them in a positive way. I, in a sense, “therapize” myself. I work through my feelings and learn from them. Nonetheless, something has been missing in my emotional journey.

I tend to express the emotion to myself, crying for hours or beating up pillows in anger. But rarely do I ever tell anyone about what happened. It’s hard to imagine that I would call someone and admit to sobbing for half a day. By that time, I’ve usually already “worked through” the issue and disregard the need to share my raw emotion with someone else.

In the same vein, I hesitate or don’t even think to call someone and ask for help when I’m just at the beginning of feeling something difficult. I devalue working on my emotions with someone. I devalue the mere expression of emotion in front of someone’s face, talking about the honest emotion I’m having without mitigating it with all the reasons or explanations I’ve already come up with.

I realized I was missing this crucial step of expression to others when I pinpointed a deep desire. Many times, I simply want people to let me feel feelings. I don’t want the feelings “fixed,” and I don’t want them ignored. I just want to be allowed to feel. And I long for someone to see me emoting and allow it. Despite this desire, I almost never get to the point of sharing an emotion without quickly following my share up with my nice, neat therapized package. I don’t want to overwhelm anyone with negativity. Life is fun and positive! Shouldn’t I ensure that the positive spin takes center stage rather than the darkness of my original feeling?

No. The explanations and background surrounding my emotions are valuable, but not at the expense of giving the feeling itself credence. By hiding the depth of what I’m feeling, I miss out on a connection with the world I’m meant to have.

By not admitting my frailty, I separate myself. I think I want that separation, that it makes me strong. And for whatever reason, I think that once I’ve worked through a feeling, it’s a sign of weakness to return to it in its raw form to share my experience with another person.

Well, time to stop this. I am deciding t make a concerted effort to share more of the difficult feelings I have with others and to abandon my fear of being seen as weak. Someone who feels things as deeply as I do cannot be weak. But I am human. And I want others to know that. It’s difficult to feel connection with a “perfect” or “invincible” person, and I try to come off as both of those things, despite the fact that I am neither.

I treasure it when someone is willing to share with me a true emotional moment. I am impressed and honored when someone entrusts me with their true feelings, without explaining them away.

This new way of working with feelings and other people will take a while, but it will be worth the journey. I’ve already begun experimenting with this, resulting in some embarrassment, but also incredibly revelatory moments with others and a deeper sense of connection. Ultimately, this exercise is simply an extension of me not covering anything up and being authentic wherever I am. No need to perform… unless I’m playing on stage ;)

Deeper Connectedness

2008-11-16T12:43:00.002-06:00

I like seeing different parts of who I am. I like seeing different parts of other people. People are endless mysteries, labyrinths whose depths have yet to be fully explored. Ten lifetimes probably aren't enough to scope the vastness of the soul.

I like giving people a chance. I like asking people odd questions and noting their responses. Each new day opens up new channels of discovery. When I spend more time with a person, I usually find more and more things to like, more similarities, and more interesting differences.

I've long been uninterested in knowing only people who seem "like me" because, in the end, everyone is both like me and unlike me. The first things I see about a person may disguise untold-of connections between us. I like the intricacies within that framework. I'm interested in how we form connections with people and how we deepen those bonds.

Sometimes, however, it's difficult to find other people willing to explore those depths with me. I think that almost everyone would profess to want to get to know their friends in deeper ways, but when certain inner areas are probed, many people jerk back, afraid, or they leap forward and put on a show, pretending to reveal in an attempt to cover the truth. I'm searching for more people willing to honestly probe the depths and do their best to be thoroughly authentic.

I'm slower to cut people out of my life now, too. I am noting snap judgments when I make them but not necessarily moving out of the friendship because of those initial sentiments. Often, my resistance stems from an insecurity within myself, although sometimes resistance is an intuitive force that should be given credence.

All this to say that I am learning to be open to all kinds of people and to be brave enough to open up and seek openness from anyone who presents him or herself as willing to reciprocate. I am uncovering treasures EVERYWHERE, in everyone, even the most unlikely. I hope to continue this journey.

Following this mindset has strengthened my family relationships and enhanced the other connections in my life. I am becoming more and more curious about people.

One concern remains, though: I pray that my naturally inquisitive nature doesn't prevent me from opening up myself. I hope to give at the rate I receive. My tendency to play the observer can separate me from others in that, while I may feel more connected to them, they feel a distance from me. I hope to truly be authentic and honest about myself and lay aside the mediator or investigator hat from time to time.

People are amazing. Pity that I can forget that, run into fear, and then hide within myself occasionally. Although those hidden times are valuable, moments when I reach out and act on a willingness to be involved with other people take me to new heights. Inter-relational life is so new to me! I want to uncover all the riches within the people I know and love.

Thanks to all those who have reached out to me. The first step is the hardest for me to make, but once I take a couple of steps toward connecting with someone, I'll run with it. Thank you to those who know I need that initial push.

Opening Up

2008-11-11T15:51:00.000-06:00

I am attempting to open up my world. It’s really the only way to go. Openness is scary, but it has resulted in more growth in my life than any other disposition. Openness.

You see, when something I at one time only dreamt of doing seems to miraculously occur, a closer examination of everything leading up to the occurrence reveals a distinct lack of the miraculous (unless, like me, you argue that every little thing we do is, in a way, miraculous…but that’s another conversation entirely). Here’s the basic pattern:

1) Idea floats to me (among the thousands of others I receive every second).
2) Idea sticks with me and keeps popping up. I can’t remove the notion from my brain for too long before it returns. Sometimes, this is exceptionally annoying.
3) I realize that I want to act on that idea.
4) But I don’t act on it yet; I’ll think about it more. (Usually, this is resistance rearing its ugly head, sometimes in the form of laziness, sometimes in the form of fear. Although part of me wants to act on the idea, part of me does not.)
5) The desire to act on the idea takes over >50% of me, in effect, defeating the resistant side.
6) I still don’t do anything.
7) I get frustrated because I’m not doing anything. (If an idea has hung around this long, then it’s probably meant-to-be.)
8) I finally tell someone about the idea.
9) Idea is acted on.

Okay, there are probably a few steps in between 8 and 9, but generally, after I open up about whatever idea I have, balls start rolling. Usually, I discover that, with help, the action is not so difficult. Sometimes, simply voicing what I want makes it less intimidating or more significant than initially thought.

All that to get to today’s furtive share. I want to do more with my music. Therefore, I am opening up my MySpace music page and will be accepting friends in the near future. (No, I have not accepted any friends on my MySpace music page. I never tell anyone about it, and when friends find me, I explain to them that I never add anyone. Pretty odd…but true.)

Anyway, step one is adding a prominent link to it here. Then, I will be sending the link out via email. HUGE for me. But do I expect anyone to hear me if I never tell anyone about what I do? I have to make a move that reflects my passion for the music.

Hopefully, this will lead to more performing. If I can open up online, perhaps I can make connections and open up live.

In any case, I have uploaded songs from a recent live concert I gave in the Heights. My wonderful friend Nancy recorded it, and I think the sound trumps that of my old laptop recordings. Another friend took some pics, and those will also be available very soon. So – enjoy my page. Enjoy the music. And if you have any ideas, feel free to share.

Here’s to being one of those wacky people who posts everything about herself online! Ah, Michelle, welcome to the 21st century…

Oh! And here’s the link to my music:
http://www.myspace.com/michellecowanmusic

Points on a Pendulum's Path

2008-11-01T11:48:00.002-05:00

Life is ebb and flow, contraction and stretching, pulling in and pushing out. It's many different forces all at once, and somehow we balance in the midst of all of them. At least, that's the goal.

I can go too far. I can stay too safe. I am a pendulum swinging sometimes, one moment in perfect rhythm, another moment at startling extremes. But everything is allowed.

How would I know what it feels like to feel steady if I didn't also know what it feels like to be out of synch? How would I know happiness without sadness or loneliness without social overwhelment. Hitting the extremes reminds me that the middle is excellent, if at times boring. It's a trade-off of sorts: live at the extremes for excitement and precarious or frightening emotions, or live in the middle for solidarity of mind but also eventual boredom. When the boredom hits, I'm out the door, stretching again.

For quite some time, I believed that one way had to be better than another or that I had to choose how I wanted to live my life. Was I the kind of person who wanted to live an exciting, spontaneous life full of fun, adventure, and ripped-to-shreds emotions? Or was I the type to choose a quiet life, reading and calm, resting in the cradle of nature and thought? Both options still appeal to me.

However, now, instead of choosing one or the other, I am beginning to see that I can choose both - and everything in the middle.

At times, I feel wild and crazy and want to go-go-go. I shift into social overdrive, my performance gear kicks in, and I fly high for days. Other times, I want the world to completely stop and suck me into a black hole. I barely leave my house. I may try to do music; I may go to the grocery store. In that space, I frequently feel sad for a while...and WANT to feel sad. Letting sorrow take over occasionally rejuvenates my spirit and enables me to leave my house with a smile on my face once more, or to stay in my house but be able to laugh with more joy than ever.

Other times, I feel the peace of resting in the middle. It will seem as though I have the right amount of social engagement and the right amount of alone time. I find a balance between work, exercise, thinking, music, and just being myself. I accept all things and feel incredibly loving.

In each of these states, I wonder if I should perhaps be another way. Do I need more alone time? Am I not going out enough? Am I getting bored with this "balanced living"?

Truth is, each state works for me in some way - and typically also works against me. None of them are all good or all bad. They are simply points along the trajectory of my pendulum, and I can embrace them all without fear that I am not doing enough.

I'm still learning this, learning to trust that I can enjoy my propensities in each individual moment and also that I will eventually have different propensities. Although it sometimes feels like I will be sad and socially reluctant forever, that stage has always passed, and I have entered many an extroverted stint. Perhaps my introverted phases last longer or are more numerous, but I am learning that this is just me. I like that.

I also regularly return to balance after toying with the extremes, slowly seeing that the middle is not necessarily better than the edges. The extremes teach me. The state of balance is where I enjoy the fruits of those lessons. I'm still learning. I'm still confused. I still distrust myself. But I am learning to love others and myself for all the different ways we think and feel at various points in our lives. None of us is one way all the time.

Knowing myself means, in part, knowing that one, static definition of me cannot encompass the many phases that make up who I am. I never stop growing. Forward is the only direction (even though it feels like backwards sometimes). And the essential nature of humanity defies permanent labels.

Hooray for change and acceptance!

Putting Feet to Creative Ideas

2008-10-26T17:26:00.003-05:00

People engage in the most interesting creative projects! Check out this one I learned about from Pop!Tech:

http://www.wefeelfine.org/

The We Feel Fine system searches new blog entries all across the Internet for the phrases "I feel" and "I am feeling." It then records the full sentence and identifies the feeling expressed (e.g., sad, tired, happy). It also records the demographic and geographic information (including weather) of the blogger if possible along with any picture associated with the blog post.

All of this information is kept in a database from which the site constructs all sorts of combinations and stories. It displays the data in all sorts of artistic and insightful ways. Some of the quote/photo combinations are wonderful. Go to the site to learn more about it. It's worth a visit.

And definitely go to the Pop!Tech site to download videos of some incredible people discussing some of the most interesting topics I've ever encountered. The 2008 conference is streaming live right now! The video featured above is from the 2007 conference, but numerous "Pop!Casts" from this year's and previous years' conferences are housed their for everyone's viewing pleasure! And believe me, it's a pleasure.

Hopefully, I will start pursuing my own projects at some point rather than exclusively learning from others. For today, I did some songwriting, but I keep feeling that I could do more. And I'm probably right.

However, I refuse to discount learning. Sure, I'm excusing my avoidance of building my music career or developing myself in new ways or helping others, but I'm also setting an intention to do those things and even joining groups that should help me get better integrated into the music scene (GoGirls). How hard should I push myself? And how honest am I being about how I use my eating disorder to distract me from my dreams?

Can I let go of distractions/habits like the eating disorder and my own laziness or fear? Can I open myself up to more creative time? This story is still being written.

Another Successful Performance - Let's Do More!

2008-10-19T14:33:00.002-05:00

Last night, I gave an amazing concert at the home of a friend. The entire experience was a true treasure. Of course, stress and dozens of little inconveniences littered the week before, resulting in me waking up on Saturday morning with no desire to put on the show that evening. However, I'd already invited friends, and I knew that performing would ultimate feed my soul more than a day of moping.

Nonetheless, it was hard to get through the day. My apartment complex lost power, and I had to deal with some incorrect debit card charges from a coffee house I'd visited earlier in the week. Luckily, the Bayou City Art Festival was going on, so I took a break from adult life to peruse the wares downtown.

All this to say that I stepped "on stage" (in my friend's living room) with virtually none of the preparation that usually goes into the makings of a Michelle show. I even showed up late to the event! Yes, true musician style. The week before had been too packed with layoffs at work (thank you, financial crisis!), apartment complex issues, medical appointments, and all the other things I fret about needlessly. During the week, of course, I in no way related my stress to nervousness about the upcoming performance. A serious oversight, it turned out.

On Saturday, my insides felt so squeezed and turned inside out, I didn't know what to do. Restlessness spread throughout my system. The smallest things began to stress me out. I held on tighter and tighter to accomplishing all the tasks I needed to to do, and when I saw that I would be unable to complete them all, I felt a breakdown coming on.

But instead, I stepped out of it and lived through the restlessness. The power went out; I went to the art festival, where my mother and a friend accompanied me and got my mind off of the stressors. I had to go prep my friend's house after that and get a few refreshments. I also needed to take a shower and go over a few songs. Well, I didn't go over the songs. No time! I handed it over to my higher power and hoped for the best. Before I left for the concert, I even took a short run to try to shake all the stress out of my body. Just that little bit worked, and I noted that I could have given up a few of my to-dos earlier in favor of more centering (although less outwardly "productive") activities. I am trying to let go and learn how to balance.

What can I say? Today, those restless feelings have vanished, replaced by a curious peace, knowing that I have expressed myself in one of the ways I feel most truly alive. Friends came together from various parts of my life; everything converged.

I could go into the many, many issues that come up during and after the concert, but it all feels far too private for the Internet. Suffice it to say that every time I perform, I feel whole. I know that I am doing what I was meant to do. Singing is my gift, to myself and to the world.

So why do I avoid it? A frightening vulnerability occurs when I perform nowadays. I no longer sing for my family or to win prizes or to be famous. I sing for myself and for love. Last night, I openly shared events from my life, both in the lyrics of the songs and in my transitional banter, that I have not spoken of with anyone. People asked me where songs had come from. They wanted back stories; they wanted to go deeper. A channel opened where suddenly I was able to transmit part of myself to a group of people and receive a thousand blessings in return.

This gift sounds irresistible. Why do I resist it? Fear. Playing music for me is like unzipping my chest and exposing something deeply personal. I may be performing, but when I do, people see ME. And while I long for that, for people to see the true Michelle, I am human. I know that the true Michelle could still be rejected or that I would somehow be misinterpreted. Many fears. I can't think of them all right now because they all seem silly when what I gain out of the performance experiences so far transcends any potential negativity.

Perhaps an even greater resistance lies in a bit of laziness and simple ignorance or lack of talent in certain, more logistical elements of being a musician. It's difficult for me to find venues and plan in advance to play somewhere. I always tell myself that I am perfectly capable of doing that, and I am. But that doesn't mean I WANT to do those things. I just want to perform...la la la...but it takes some footwork to get there.

Fortunately, as my courage and fortitude grows, it's getting easier to imagine and easier to tackle the logistics as I play more and more. Each time I perform, I realize the potential within me and strengthen my resolve to put legs to my dreams (even though my dreams regarding music are quite vague).

Last night, I got several ideas of places to play, and I also enlisted the help of others to get those shows off the ground. I realize that while I can craft songs and lyrics (and even my own stage persona) myself, I cannot craft an entire music career on my own. I am in particular need of manager types who will say, "Hey Michelle, want to play _____ on _____ day and time?" It's surprisingly easy for me to say yes to that. Finding it all on my own is another ordeal entirely.

So - I am learning to ask for help once more, but more than that, I'm learning exactly what I need to ask for help in doing. I am getting a better idea of my actual needs. I've always known that I need help, but it's hard to ask people for help without a specific request in mind. Now, I can approach people and ask if they can look for venues for me to perform in and relay the information to me. I can even ask them to contact some venues for me. While there are certainly things I need to do, there are people out there willing to assist.

In any case, a friend made a digital recording of the concert, so hopefully, I will find a couple of solid-sounding songs to disseminate to you all online. Another friend took what I'm sure will be fantastic photos, so you never know, I could have the beginnings of a nice little promo package. We'll see.

For now, I'm enjoying the calm that comes from being authentically me and facing challenges with openness and bravery. I have dealt with quite a bit of loss in the past few weeks and am rising stronger than ever. Most of all, I am thankful for true friends who actually "get" me, as much as anyone can.

For today, I am letting go of all the to-dos and remembering that everything will be taken care of. I am searching for that balance between taking responsibility and letting go. It often seems like I have so much on my plate. Right now, I just want to give it up so that the creativity can flow. Oh, but I hold on so tightly. So tightly. Last night, I released. It was definitely a ritual that bears repeating.

Ah, Weight - My Least Favorite Subject...

2008-10-08T13:50:00.003-05:00

The company I work for kicked off a new weight loss program/competition today. What I heard from those who attended the kick-off meeting sounds mostly positive. This program appears to promote a healthy lifestyle rather than a flash-in-the-pan diet. Unfortunately, I still sense a clear focus on good vs. bad foods and a pressure to exercise that can turn unhealthy. Plus, the whole idea of competing to lose weight unnerves me. Such pressure, along with unknown, intangible standards of success!

Every body is different. Some people will be larger than others. Any time a program involves setting goal weights, etc., I get a bit leery. Yes, I understand that goals help us work toward achieving what we desire, but how does one determine his or her ideal weight other than by simply eating when hungry/stopping when full for an extended period of time? Sure, you can probably come up with a sensible 25 pound range or something, but… Ugh, the whole thing makes me nauseous.

I haven’t weighed myself in almost four years, and I have never missed it. Sure, it makes coming up with my current weight tough when I’m asked for it on driver’s license or other identification forms, but I usually just guess at something that seems right. I wouldn’t trade my peace of mind for anything. I refuse to measure myself according to a number like that.

When I last weighed myself (a few months after embarking on a new kind of recovery plan), I was much larger than I am now. Because of a doctor’s slip-up a couple of years ago, I do have some idea of where I stand weight-wise although I cannot remember the exact number she told me. Of course, as I bring that up, I have to tell the entire tale of that slip-up:

The doctor noticed that I had lost some weight over the year prior and wanted to congratulate me. I specifically noted my history of eating disorders on my paperwork, but apparently, she chose to ignore that. I’m grateful for the sentiment, I guess, but I didn’t really need to lose weight in the first place. The slight weight loss was simply due to consistently not bingeing and riding my bike a bit more. My question is: Why did no one congratulate me for gaining weight at times when that was necessary?

Anyway, the focus on weight and the notion that there is a “right” one concerns me. I long to stand up in my workplace and yell, “I hate diets!” I do. But yet, I am never sure how much to expose in the workplace. I still struggle some with food and exercise, and that has always held me back in terms of forthright participation in ED activism. Ultimately, though, who says I have to have “perfect” recovery before I can speak out? Me. I’m the only one.

I’m afraid that I will relapse and look like a fool if I am too open about my passion for eating disorder recovery. I’m afraid people will say, “It seems like she still has an eating disorder.” Right now, I want to ditch that fear. No one can take away the progress I have made. I will always have farther to go. I will always want to do better. But I can accept where I am right now and acknowledge how far I’ve come with a hardy pat on the back.

For anyone out there, you’ve come so far! Don’t hide it. Speak out. We’ll see if I’m able to in coming weeks. I have no idea how this workplace competition will affect me, but already, it makes me want to speak out and tell the story of body image from my perspective. More will be revealed…

From Letters to a Young Poet (Letter 8) - by Ranier Maria Rilke

2008-10-06T12:05:00.003-05:00

I wanted to share with you all a passage that was given to me by a dear soul this weekend. It applies to my life and my latest experiments with living in remarkable ways. Enjoy!
~
We have no reason to harbor any mistrust against our world, for it is not against us. If it has terrors, they are our terrors; if it has abysses, these abysses belong to us; if there are dangers, we must try to love them. And if only we arrange our life in accordance with the principle which tells us that we must always trust in the difficult, then what now appears to us as the most alien will become our most intimate and trusted experience.

How could we forget those ancient myths that stand at the beginning of all races, the myths about dragons that at the last moment are transformed into princesses? Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.

So you mustn't be frightened, dear Mr. Kappus, if a sadness rises in front of you, larger than any you have ever seen; if an anxiety, like light and cloud-shadows, moves over your hands and over everything you do. You must realize that something is happening to you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. Why do you want to shut out of your life any uneasiness, any misery, any depression, since after all you don't know what work these conditions are doing inside you? Why do you want to persecute yourself with the question of where all this is coming from and where it is going? Since you know, after all, that you are in the midst of transitions and you wished for nothing so much as to change.

If there is anything unhealthy in your reactions, just bear in mind that sickness is the means by which an organism frees itself from what is alien; so one must simply help it to be sick, to have its whole sickness and to break out with it, since that is the way it gets better....

Marketing - Let's Think about It

2008-10-02T13:38:00.006-05:00

Want a glimpse into why teens and adults have such a skewed sense of self and desire? Part of the reason is marketing, and if you haven't already seen them, watch these two PBS Frontline reports that do an excellent job of investigating a both intriguing and repulsive world. It makes me sad for our teenagers, for everyone as consumers, and even for myself. But it also spurs me toward action. These reports are not new, but their message is still more than relevant. What do they spark within you?

The Merchants of Cool
The Persuaders

Media and marketing are not all bad. They can spawn innovation, creativity, and countless other valuable things. How would any message, positive or negative, spread without some form of marketing or media distribution?

But the dark side should be considered. What can we do about it? It's a little overwhelming for me. Can we band together to make a difference?

I guess that this is where organizations like Mind on the Media come in. Let's do our part to take some action!

Getting Real, Giving Out, and Giving Away

2008-09-25T21:57:00.002-05:00

Okay, I'll admit it; the hurricane was a difficult event for me. (I'm resisting the urge to call it a "traumatic incident.") My power only stayed out for two days, I had everything I needed, and I received some outside support, but yes, I went through it alone. And that can be traumatic. (Okay, there, I used the word.)

It directed me into touch with new, strong parts of myself, but it also prompted a lot of emotions that I resisted and suppressed in order to get through the event itself. Now, the emotions are bubbling to the surface. Things having to do with my family, with relationships, with myself and my own history. All of it. Plus, I felt unempathized with.

I didn't have much physical upheaval other than the loss of some fridge food, a bit of car and window leakage, and a couple of hot days without electricity. But I didn't have the direct emotional support many others experienced. Oftentimes, helping someone else makes it easier to get through trials. In families, that kind of bonding/mutual assistance typically occurs naturally. I chose to ride it out alone and was not completely prepared for all that it exposed, finding myself without a ready shoulder to lean on.

So here I am, feeling the emotions and letting them play out as usual, learning many new things about life, the world, and myself. Sigh...

So where does the self-absorption end and the giving begin? I want to give of myself to a greater cause. I am admittedly reconsidering doing Team in Training, wondering if primarily nostalgia motivated me. Despite all of my very real and valuable reasons for wanting to participate, maybe it's time to raise money or advocate in a new way, for difference organizations, using methods that better reflect who I am today...

Still, I learned today that the Honored Hero I am training on behalf of passed away on Tuesday. Ten-year-old Johnny Romano, skateboarder extraordinaire. It shook me up a bit. He was so, so young... Keep his family in your thoughts/prayers.

At the same time, I wonder if I'd be better off advocating on behalf of ANAD or NEDA or NOW's Love Your Body project. There are also a few literacy groups I stand behind, not to mention the fabulous program Purple Songs Can Fly at Texas Children's hospital. The latter is connected with cancer support services, giving kids in treatment the opportunity to write and record their own songs. It's an amazing program, and I hope to be up there helping in the coming weeks.

For now, I want to be content giving as I can give right now, living life as a light to others. I want to do my part for the community. I want to help. But time is limited. My energy is limited. I have quite a bit to offer, though, and am longing to do so. I want to see where I should invest my resources.

Part of me would like to fundraise for one of the causes I mentioned above by coming up with my own fun events and ideas. We'll see what surfaces. It's always a good time to give, and I'm hungry for it right now. Reaching deep within often leads to reaching back out. Here I am, an emotional basket case, admittedly so, but knowing that perspective is in order. I give myself time to work out the kinks and also give some time away... I'm praying for inspiration for where to send it.

Learning to Relax

2008-09-20T16:18:00.000-05:00

I could blog. I could write. I could clean my bathroom and mop the floor. But no, I want to eat a giant sandwich and watch Project Runway! And I'm letting myself.

Can't I give myself a break? I balanced my checkbook; paid my rent, water, and electricity; started my laundry; and reprogrammed my cell phone earlier today. That's a significant number of accomplishments. Hey, I even wrote a song. No kidding. Not sure how it happened, but it flowed.

Then again, I do know how it happened. I'm letting myself go with the flow. I'm letting myself enjoy. I could have gone to help clean up a city park today, but I was too tired to even begin to get out of bed before 10am. I've been letting myself flit around this morning, resulting in a freeness of mind. It's okay not to accomplish everything on my list of to-dos.

Nothing terrible is going to happen if I don't get my car shampooed today. (My attempts at post-flood cleanup left things worse than before, I think...but the smell is masked!) Same goes for cleaning the bathroom. It can wait another day. I can enjoy one day of my weekend, sleep in, and just take it as it comes. It's okay. My desires are welcome.

And looking back, as I listed earlier, I've still managed to do plenty of the tasks I had set before me. I didn't even mention the research I did into a new cell phone and laptop! Relaxing alone is an accomplishment. I feel good.

Anyway, I've reached out to a friend today. I'm sure I'll reach out more later. It's the ebb and flow of life, I'm learning. I venture into myself, I relax, I go back out, I fight the hard fight, I venture back in. It's a little cycle, and I never know how long I'll be in any stage or what that stage will look like exactly.

The main thing is that I'm still enjoying life. Maybe that seems ridiculous to some, considering the amount of effort I expend simply giving myself permission to do what I want to do, but I am enjoying life. I like the way I over-analyze a bit. It's okay. Everything belongs, right? In its own portion.

And you can do it, too. Let yourself relax. Eventually, the tasks that really need to be done will rise to the surface. By then, you may even WANT to do them. Why force yourself to do them now if they are, in fact, non-essential? Of course, there are certain things we must force ourselves to do sometimes. Why not embrace the moments when forcing things isn't necessary?

I mean, I can't watch Project Runway FOREVER, can I? Can I?...

#

Check it out: I ended up blogging anyway, without even realizing what I was doing... ;)

The Simple Life

2008-09-18T22:51:00.002-05:00

I am officially in love with riding my bike (as if that wasn't apparent before). I hate traffic. Finally, I feel like being on my bike puts me ahead of the rest. It's freeing to know the back ways to get places, even when I do have to take my car. Getting to work by bike is a normal activity for me now, so it's no problem to two-wheel it in lieu of fighting lines at flashing stop lights and wasting precious gasoline.

Sitting in traffic makes me scream and cry and beat my steering wheel...and I mean literally. (I have the bruised forearms to prove it.) My stress levels rise that high.

In contrast, the time on my bike before and after work provides a space where I do nothing but travel. I don't think of it as exercise, and other potential daily activities don't enter my mind much. The only goal is a destination. The only objective is to stay safe on the road. Simple.

I desire simplicity more and more these days. Simple lifestyles attract me. I want to live in a community where I don't have to go far for anything essential, where my friends are near, where my interactions are not mitigated by layers of electronic facilitation. I like the idea of a few friends, a few things to do, a generous amount of time, and a whole lot of love. In many ways, the hurricane gave me a glimpse into that, and riding my bike expresses in a small way the simplicity my heart longs for. Thank you for beautiful weather and good health.

(Playing my guitar gets me back to basics, too.)

Recovery Is Real Website

2008-09-18T22:46:00.000-05:00

I have been working on and off (mostly off) on a website showcasing the blogs of people who have recovered from eating disorders. It will possibly be expanded to showcase stories of such individuals and the vibrant lives they live, but for now, I'm pretty much just compiling a list of bloggers who have recovered. I want to show people that it is possible and that anyone, no matter how deep the suffering, can go on to do amazing things.

The blogs do not have to be about eating or body-related issues. They simply have to be written by someone who has recovered from an eating disorder of any kind.

If you are interested in helping with this effort or know of some blogs I could use, please contact me. Thanks and well wishes!

No electricity breeds creativity...and exhaustion...

2008-09-18T22:32:00.000-05:00

I like to think I'm strong, that I can make it through anything. But hurricane aftermath? That might be my breaking point.

Suffice it to say that I am filled with immense gratitude. My water and power came back on Sunday afternoon. And although my cell phone drowned in a flooded street and my car smells like a swamp, I am blessed with an absence of the incredible difficulties so many people I know are facing.

Still, the backed up traffic brings me to tears. The shortened grocery store hours and long gas station lines make me frantic. Naturally, my shelves were fully stocked before the hurricane, and I continue on without need of anything. But everything has been thrown off, and that seems to be enough for me to break down.

However, for someone who struggles with change and for whom acclimation comes slowly, I did quite well during the storm. Years of awareness surrounding my trouble with non-routine times have made me quite an expert in preparation and coping. I was ready for the storm, and I continue to provide for my needs and those of people who come across my path. Good stuff.

To brag or not to brag? Brag! I made a stupendous apple crisp after the storm once I discovered that the ice cream shop across from my apartment had opened for business. (Baked desserts are only half-complete without a creamy, melt-a-licious topping.) The family who owns the shop still has no power at their house. No wonder they chose to go to work instead of roast at home!

Baking the dessert, talking to the shop owner's family, coming up with a fun way to kill a few hours... That little part of my week illustrates the things I find most excellent about disaster: people get to know one another and people discover their own creative coping skills. I now know more of my neighbors than I ever thought possible. I asked for help in tough circumstances and received it! I discovered that I have a knack for creating fabulous meals from only canned items. I also realized how blessed I am to enjoy reading and other non-electric-dependent activities. I have also learned how to strike up conversations with almost anyone. During the hurricane, my neighbors and I did it because we were bored. Now, I do it because I'm curious.

I love watching people who are able to handle discomfort well. Several folks at my office still without power are chugging along remarkably well. They take it step by step and simply do the next thing that needs to be done. Inconvenience leads to simplification. Just do the next thing.

In the midst of it all, I'm fine. Still writing music. Still planning on doing the half-Ironman (although I must confess that the training for that ranks very low on my list of priorities at the moment). Still calling friends, going to work, and getting outside and enjoying. I still have my endless list of to-dos, but I remain thankful that cleaning up a yard full of tree limbs or salvaging the contents of a flooded house do not count among my concerns.

Gratitude for sure. This life is a miracle, moment by moment.

Photos

2008-09-01T15:13:00.001-05:00

Yes, I know some of you have wondered, "Why don't you post any pictures on your site or blog?" Well, because this blog is partially about eating disorders, I don't want to put any images up that could be fodder for appearance-comparison games. However, that motivation is lessening. (People can compare outside appearances if they want and decide on their own how healthy that is.)

Unfortunately, as I blogged about recently, thieves broke into my car and stole my camera, along with my iPod, my precious Alvarez guitar, its case, and my priceless songwriting notebook. They took a swimsuit and my good kaiki capris, but those items meant significantly less to me - but it does say a bit about the people who took them.

If I had a camera, I would take some good shots and upload them. Soon enough, people. Soon enough. I tend to procrastinate on making big purchases like that. So far, I have a camera, a new laptop, and a vacation lined up for future expense. Hopefully, I will gain the courage to give myself the gift of spending that money, but it just seems like I'm not saving as much as I'd like right now... I struggle a lot with finding financial balance, treating myself with generosity while exercising responsibility for my future needs. Learning, learning.

In any case, the camera is coming up soon. I figure it will be worthwhile on that vacation...

Coming Off the High

2008-09-01T15:12:00.000-05:00

I feel a bit discouraged today, a typical occurrence after the kind of high I had over the weekend. I felt immensely supported and appreciated. My performance on Sunday went well, plus I received some serious spiritual nurturing while talking to my best friend and others throughout the past few days. That deep sense of connection mattered more than I expected. I also visited the home of an artist who creates beautiful paintings. I felt privileged simply to get to know this person, not to mention the work we did together on an art/music project on Saturday. I scoped out her studio and her home, which felt comfy and accepting, like a family -- or rather, the way we wish family would be

I have found myself trying to strike out, away from my family of origin just a bit. I adore my parents and feel loved by them, but I also hunger for a family of my own choosing, a family made up of friends and supportive people who know me in different ways. I am seeing that family sprout up around me, and I felt fantastic gratitude for it over the past two days.

It's strange to feel so absolutely fulfilled and then to feel quite alone. Today, I have called people, I have reached out, but my heart is aching. I know exactly what it aches for, but no action on my end can sate this hunger. Do you ever have those same yearnings? Are there things in your life that you want but cannot have? This sort of thing cuts a person like me to ribbons, a person who has discovered that people can have pretty much anything they want just by dreaming and asking and working and remaining open to receive. Then, here I am, faced with something I cannot get for myself, not this time.

In any case, this is a typical dip for me. I just came off of a fulfilling, nourishing time, and it's hard for the rest of life to live up to that standard. I am feeling my loneliness right now and also reveling in a pool of joy left over from the weekend. It's there, but my sadness is, admittedly, clouding it a bit.

Nonetheless, I am resurrecting my spirit by writing this piece, by thinking about music, reading and learning things today. I have reached out, and I am embracing this day for what it is.
I remain confident that I will continue to make decisions that reflect who I am and what I desire while also accepting the pullback resulting from taking such confident actions. I'm a bit tired and did a lot of socializing, so perhaps it is okay to pull inward a bit before stepping back out again, ready to take on the new challenges I've set for myself. Off we go.

Team in Training Memories

2008-08-30T17:52:00.000-05:00

Ah, Team in Training... Let's return to the spring of 2003, when I had just moved back to Texas from an internship in Florida, and one of my two new roommates, Jenny, talked me into training with her for the Capital of Texas Triathlon in Austin, TX. At the time, I bingeing heavily and regularly; however, I had just switched my major to English and felt more positive about completing college than ever. I was beginning to make decisions based on my own interests, a novel thing for me as I was only then starting to differentiate between my true interests and the things I was "supposed" to be interested in for whatever reason.

What's more, I had proved through my full-time working internship that I could, in fact, complete difficult tasks and structure my own life somewhat. I was a functional ED sufferer on a VERY bumpy path to recovery. In fact, I did not believe in recovery at that point. I didn't believe in very much at all. But for some reason, I said yes to Jenny and decided to train.

Finishing was my only goal. I knew I could no longer put up the blistering running times I had in high school, and somehow, I had reached a point of acceptance. It must be said, for this is no small factor for me and the way I view fitness, body size, and recovery, that I was considerably heavier at the time of this training and racing than I am now. My weight stayed fairly consistent at this point; I suppose my body had learned my regular starvation/binge cycle. Nonetheless, I knew I was larger than our society's ideal. But after only a few weeks of training, I learned to love my body again. Only at age 20 did I truly begin to explore and appreciate my body, just as it was.

Even at my heightened weight, I raced faster than most people on our team. I knew it and harbored a special pride in it. I can affirm without hesitation that, despite the undeniable insanity of the bingeing, I was in the best shape of my life, aside from high school. Because of this experience, I am certain that body size does not directly indicate a person's fitness level or athletic ability. One of many, many lessons in not judging a book by its cover.

As for other lessons, Team in Training sustained me socially. Even though I made no close friends on the team, I at least gained surface-level friends. TnT events and training meetings provided me a place to go when I might otherwise have been bingeing or sinking into isolation. I didn't realize the importance of this structure at the time, but looking back, I can see how the training and fundraising gave me motivation beyond myself, kept me going to class, and offered structure to the chaos that was my existence.

As I wrote fundraising letters and people responded, I realized how many people in my life truly cared, not just about fighting blood cancer, but about me. I also received numerous personal stories from people who had survived or suffered with or knew someone who had cancer and met many who had participated in similar programs. I felt a positive connection to the world, a world that I otherwise classified as bleak, selfish, and unfeeling. I didn't recognize the window that was being opened at the time. Caring about others and feeling good about myself = a MAJOR breakthrough.

My first Team in Training experience came at a crucial juncture. I was making choices to finish school, to be responsible, to be honest, to have relationships with others, to go to class, to be involved in life at least somewhat. My living quarters were no longer a disaster area. I could face myself and learned to love myself just as I was. Even in a funk, I could get up and go to a fundraising event. I learned about my body and what felt good and what felt bad.

In any case, I hope this next Team in Training experience will prove even more impactful. I hope to be more mindful than last time of all the fabulous benefits involvement with this program affords. I can't wait to meet the honored hero I will be racing for, to start raising money, and to spread the word.

Significant Reflections ~

Back in 2003, having a fundraising website was almost unheard of. Now, it's a requisite! Feel free to visit mine at http://pages.teamintraining.org/txg/lstri09/mcowan to read more or donate funds. Believe me, even a couple of bucks helps!

Let's hope I swallow less drainage water during the swim. Jenny and I both thought we were going to die, not of exhaustion, but of some kind of poisoning, after the last race. The combo of rain runoff and Powerbar gels just doesn't work with post-triathlon fajitas... Ugh... I'll know better this time.

I also recall the severe cottonmouth experience during a 3.5-hour bicycle road ride just south of Lubbock. Instead of mixing Gatorade with water, I had the brilliant idea to buy Propel Fitness Water. Never again! Not as much energy as the Gatorade/water mix and twenty times the stuffy mouth. I couldn't even talk afterward! Craziness. Absolute craziness.

I'll never forget my long swims in the University pool with its convenient removable top or the incredible rides in Ransom Canyon. The triathlon also spurred consistent riding around the Canyon Lakes for the rest of my college career. I'll never forget riding my regular Canyon Lake trail through the Windmill museum and beside the Joyland Amusement Park, taking pictures the week of my college graduation. Patterns and structure I set for myself while participating in Team in Training stuck with me throughout school and into the recovery I experienced in 2005.

There are deep reasons why I love physical activity. I love the meditative mood it puts me in, the removal from all else going on in my life. I adore being outside and flowing somehow with nature or taking control and tackling tough obstacles and hills on my bike. And there are the memories, the memories that bubble up to join me each time I get on the road or take to the pool. Today, I get to create more.

Yes, I'm racing to find a cure, I'm racing for those suffering with blood cancers, but I'm also racing for myself and anyone else who is trying to find his or her way out of other illnesses and disorders...or disorder in general. I truly love that girl who raced her heart out in Austin in 2003. She didn't know she'd be here in five years; she didn't believe life could be this happy. I'm glad I proved her wrong.

Can Eating Disorder Recovery and Half-Ironman Training Coexist?

2008-08-29T23:17:00.000-05:00

Conclusion: Yes.

Lately, I have felt considerably spent and resentful of certain other people in my life. Upon deeper investigation, I realized that I was allowing my explorations into the interests of others to take up all my time, leaving nothing for the pursuit of my own desires.

I say repeatedly that I'm "into" or "all about" music, but it has been months since my last open mic. I claim to be a writer but do no writing, having not taken the initiative to write a new article for work or on my own in weeks. And I frequently deny parts of who I am, such as the enjoyment I get from eating good food and participating in physical activities.

I'm going back to the beginning. What are the things that have always nourished me, that I can see myself going to as a child for centering and fun? Music, writing, lying around thinking and enjoying, running outside and playing. I remember thoroughly enjoying food and baking quite well. I also read, learned, and created things with my hands.

Today, I can still embrace all of these things and incorporate them into my job, my relationships, and my personal life. I do not need to be ashamed of any of the parts of myself, including the "cheesy" spiritual and recovery parts.

So, I recently made the decision to start actively pursuing more of the things I always say I'm "into." I may find I'm not so into those things anymore, or I may discover a new level of fulfillment. In any case, soon after I made that decision, I received a last minute request to perform my music for friends and strangers this weekend. A freelance writing opportunity came up. Plus, I signed up to do the Lone Star Half-Ironman with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Team in Training program. Choosing to accept these challenges for myself takes a great amount of faith.

Although I raised $2400 and completed an Olympic-length triathlon with the Team in Training in 2003, I have since shied away from competitive athletic events because I associate them with my eating disorder. However, about a year and half ago, I reconnected with my physically active self and started to embrace my natural abilities and the nourishment moving my body gives to my soul. As long as I keep it fun and don't tell myself I "have" to do this or that exercise, I stay on a healthy plane. That remains the plan during half-Ironman training.

After weeks with the idea of re-joining Team in Training repeatedly nagging me, I finally bit the bullet and signed up on Thursday. It felt so right. The camaraderie, the amazing cause, the challenge of raising that much money. It all comes at a wonderful, celebratory time in my life. I want others to recover from their illnesses just as I have been able to recover from mine. During training, I will continue to explore new foods and new ways to utilize my body. I intend to get in even better touch with myself than I already am while also getting out of myself to help others.

Additionally, I thrive on team activities. It's what I grew up with. During my teen years especially, my life was highly organized. Meeting friends in structured group settings works for me, and I choose to embrace that now instead of running away from it as a deficiency. I no longer "need" to join organizations or teams to have a social life, but it feels good to do so. I no longer "need" to exercise heavily, but I can challenge myself in activities I already know I enjoy.

I plan to take a look back at the last Team in Training season I participated in for my next blog. For now, though, I'm looking ahead and feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for where my life is today, the people in it, and the things I am miraculously able to do.

Equally Bad

2008-08-16T16:29:00.002-05:00

What if every choice were equally bad? Of course, if that were the case, every choice would be equally good, too, but it seems to be more different and interesting for me to use the term "bad" here. I always want to do the "best" thing, habitually stymied by decision-making. I often eat in lieu of making decisions. I focus on what is easy for me - food - instead of simply making a choice.

After I confessed this aloud to someone, she kindly told me that the basic act of making a decision is a gift. Why not give myself the gift of making a decision, even if it might not be the best one? And furthermore, what if there were no best?

For some reason, my mind immediately jumped to the idea that if all choices were equal, they would all be equally bad. So what did it matter what I chose?

What if I started bingeing, called a friend, and told that friend that I was bingeing and wanted to hear what he/she thought about that? What if I drove across town, then out of town, and then across the state? What if I didn't clean my bathroom and allowed myself to lie around and read all Saturday? What if I didn't try to write music? For me, some of these things are far-fetched; others are not. They are all completely doable, but would I do them? Would I choose not to? In my new case scenario, it doesn't matter anyway.

Does it all come down to just doing SOMETHING? Well, I don't think so. I think my main difficulty here may be in the focus on DOING rather than BEING. Can I just BE? But in choosing to just be, isn't that doing something? Doesn't being hold doing inside of it?

This is where my mind goes when I cease putting restrictions on it and allow all thoughts equal reign. Of course, even that isn't really happening. My brain is filtering out a lot of thoughts simply so that I concentrate on the act of writing this piece.

I started a few little writings today, including one on stream-of-consciousness living (pretty close to what's going on right now in this post) and one on the best vegetarian pizza in town (the results of my current quest). The latter post, however, aroused my hunger for pizza from a place I'd never tried. So I did, resulting in incredible disappointment which completely threw me for a loop. I found myself re-roasting vegetables from last night's dinner and eating partially cooked pieces while standing up in the kitchen. I jumped back and forth between reading a book, eating, and watching the Olympics for a while before deciding to clean the bathroom, vacuum my entryway and welcome mat, and take the recycling to the drop-off. Stream-of-consciousness living, just going from one thing to the next as it presents itself. It's not so fun for me, considering the number of thoughts that pop up at any single moment throughout the day, but I fell into the pattern.

Even now, I'm not sure where this post is going except that I do not want to judge my behavior right now. I don't feel like making plans with anyone, but if someone called, I would probably agree to go do something. I might let myself read. I keep trying to write songs and keep coming up with lots of half-formed things. It feels like fail, fail, fail with music these days.

Admittedly, part of my drive to not judge my behavior is an attempt to forgive myself for my lack of songwriting and performing lately. And as I go back, editing this post, I see that the many half-songs I've created may later turn into whole-songs or serve as catalysts for something entirely new. In fact, I can see that I've done a lot today, not just with music, but in general.

It's okay if I want to read and watch television. It can be okay. So what if I'm not striving after my dreams? Do I have to? Why? Can I choose anything and be okay?

In any case, I'm sure this post exposes the deep-seeded insanity that resides within me. I could never deny it. What you read now is a product of my seemingly innate tendencies to over-think and romanticize. I can go a long time ignoring my thoughts and pretending they aren't there while I'm really just storing up dozens, or maybe hundreds, of jumbled thoughts, questions, and dreams, which spill out on solitary Saturdays like this.

Perhaps one day, I will get my ED community site up and running, perhaps I will write a book, perhaps I will, perhaps I will. Perhaps all these things are equally bad. And maybe all I really want or need to do is sit and read. Can I give myself permission to make that choice? Will I give myself permission to achieve nothing?

I Wish

2008-08-07T23:12:00.000-05:00

I wish a lot of things. I wish I didn't focus so much on food during times of transition. I wish I were the lead singer of a rock band. I wish just one of the starring actresses in the movie I just saw was not uncomfortably thin. I wish I had infinite energy and no fear.

I wish. I wish. I wish.

Time to stop wishing and start seeing. I can envision what I want and work to create that. I can simultaneously accept life and myself as-is, in love.

I struggle and struggle to feel good or solid or something unnamable. But I only really feel like myself when I stop struggling and start accepting and enjoying, wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, in that moment. Life teaches me to enjoy and appreciate the process, instead of fretting over the goal.

Bottom line: I feel a little mixed-up right now, but I want to go with it and trust that I will end up in a beautiful place. I am safe anywhere...

Lasagna - Multi-Layered, like Me!

2008-08-05T22:08:00.000-05:00

I made myself lasagna tonight. Not a bad first attempt I must say, especially considering that I mishmashed different recipes together until I had included all the elements I enjoy. I'll use less tomato sauce next time (I tend to get overzealous with the 'mato - I love them so.), have a more compact layer of pasta/ricotta cheese/caramelized onions and mushrooms/pasta in the middle, and find a more inventive ricotta mixture.

I love to cook. People struggling with and recovering from eating disorders have a wide range of attitudes toward cooking. Some avoid it; others revel or even obsess over it. Although I didn't cook much during the midst of the disorder, I remember being quite the baker before. I made heavenly cakes, and still can. My ability to follow recipes to the letter leads to that. Perfectionism has a few advantages. Cooking, as opposed to baking, requires a bit more creativity, so I like doing both for different reasons. At this point, my relationship with this expressive art (as I do consider it) seems healthy.

I have endless patience while cooking because it is such a pleasant, meditative time. I love coming up with new, more colorful combinations or getting totally immersed in the execution of a challenging recipe. It's flat-out fun. Plus, I don't mind the taste too much either.

Confessedly, though, I haven’t been trying many new things in the past few years. I still question my ability to control myself around food, and planning meals often feels like obsessing. Plus, cooking can be a hassle I just don’t have time for. Check it out! I’m like everyone else, eating disordered or not.

Tonight was about stretching. I undertook a more involved recipe with a baking time that requires a span of time without eating between the actual assembly of the lasagna and the plating of it. I tend to start grazing while cooking and then just continue on into the meal once it's finished. (I'm great at 30-minute wonders.) But tonight I proved that I could complete a full preparation/cooking/plating cycle without getting full before mealtime. I decided what I wanted beforehand, shopped for the ingredients, prepped, cooked, and ate, all without feeling compulsive. I ENJOYED it. The recipe included challenging ingredients for me, so it stretched me a bit there, too.

In any case, I'm proud of this achievement. A lasagna, I know, simple. But I'd been wanting to do this for weeks, if not months. And lately, I'd been fantasizing about it more.

Usually, constant fantasizing about something means I need to look into what the obsession is about. Is the fantasy leading me somewhere good or somewhere harmful? For me, food fantasies can be either.

In this case, I shied away from the fantasy because preparing this kind of a meal (with lots of prep-work involved) requires an extended focus on food. And I don't need help focusing on food! I always fear that cooking that sort of meal will lead to an increased food obsession in me.

However, I am examining my food more closely lately and trying to take chances. By cooking what used to be a complete no-no food for myself, I worry that it might lead to a binge. However, the case more often than not lately has been that eating a fear food DECREASES my binge urges. It may increase my anxiety, but I usually am able to put the fork down. This is what happened tonight. I feel fine. I stopped. It tasted good, but the meal had a beginning and an end.

I am slowly dismantling the power my fear foods once held over me. After many successful lasagna meals and similar patterns with other fear foods, I know the reality and liberation that results from diminishing their stronghold. Reintroducing foods like lasagna takes a while, but I am usually able to succeed. In the beginning, I often try to make the food "safer" by choosing certain ingredients, or I'll make it myself before attempting it at a restaurant (or vice versa, depending on the nature of the fear). I usually freak out or stop short of eating enough to be satisfied a few times before I get really comfortable. But my comfort level with the food typically increases naturally. If I'm having difficulty getting over a specific one, I pray for moments when I'll be forced to stretch. Usually, I get what I ask for (a challenge from the universe I usually have to accept begrudgingly and with much fear).

This has only been possible in the last few years of recovery. For a long time, I felt no desire to include no-no foods in my diet. Eventually, though, I saw that my anxieties were inhibiting me. At parties, at restaurants, in moments when nothing was available but a fear food, I found myself weak and disappointed in myself. I decided that reintroducing these foods would enable me to feel freer about food and my body in general. I would also be more likely to get the amount of calories needed to sustain a healthy weight.

The urge to eat these foods has come back slowly, and I still display marked resistance to certain items. But countless foods have moved into my consciousness over the past few years, things I want to try. And by acting on those visions responsibly, instead of just ignoring them and starving or bingeing on “safe” foods, I have become a far healthier and more relaxed eater.

My fantasies typically guide me toward the next food or activity I want to try. Yes, I added activity. I follow this same pattern with anything I fear - or I try to. I decided a couple of years ago to start living based on faith instead of fear. A treasured friend once told me how she had started examining her decision-making process and day-to-day living by asking herself, "Am I acting out of faith or out of fear?" She decided to make choices that required faith instead of avoiding things that caused fear. I now challenge myself to the same test. Following faith has always acted in my favor.

I am not talking about rushing into rash actions simply to fly in the face of fear. When acting impulsively, reasonable caution can be mistaken for fear. To rebel against that caution is not the same as looking at a situation and determining what will take more faith.

Do I always choose the shaky path of faith, wading through a boggy field of fear? No. But I try to go that way.

Right now, I'm admittedly afraid. Eating the lasagna was an attempt at finding strength. Afterward, I feel content but also an undercurrent of trepidation. I don't want to start bingeing, gain too much weight, or sit here forever alone, eating lasagna… The fears run deep – to issues seemingly unrelated to food.

Why are these fears coming up? Well, I may address that in future posts, for lasagna is not the only fear-inducing fantasy I have actualized in the past few days. I broke up with my boyfriend - my best friend - last weekend.

To clarify, this was not a couple-month fling blown out of proportion by my romantic mind. We have been together long enough to develop something remarkably special. If anything was meant to be, we were.

Although I recognize that breakups are a typical kind of tragedy, it hurts and brings up many issues for me. I knew it needed to be done; the persistent fantasies of breaking it off indicated that. Nonetheless, making healthy choices can be difficult. Trusting myself to be alone can be difficult. To still love someone but not want to be with him anymore hurts, as I'm sure most of you know.

But that's for the next post. No doubt that I use food to express my feelings and care for myself. For now, let's just be proud of the lasagna-enjoyer over here!

Addendum to "Admitting the Truth"

2008-07-27T17:28:00.001-05:00

Bottom line: Food will never be enough to satisfy me. Food is fuel for LIFE. The insatiable hunger is for the nourishing, beautiful life I know is possible. Food simply provides the energy to fully enjoy and experience that life. Mouth watering yet?

Admitting the Truth

2008-07-27T17:17:00.001-05:00

When I sit down to eat, I sit down with myself. It has been a long time since I had a bowl of cereal - a simple concoction of grains and milk, maybe some fruit or cinnamon added for pizzazz. I just finished eating one. Delicious. I was hungry.

For months, I've been attempting to sate this hunger within, a hunger fueled by long bike rides, walks, and all my daily energy expenditures, with fruit and energy bars. I eat more than four or five times per day easily. I eat all the things I feel comfortable with. But it's never enough. I don't WANT to eat the things that will help me sustain my weight. I don't WANT the high-fat and/or high-calorie foods I've long avoided. But in order to survive, I have to start asking myself if I should try these foods I don't want, just to see if I like them enough to reintroduce them to my diet.

I'm living on the teetering edge, it seems. That's how I feel. My mother commented this weekend that I was looking thin. She asked if I was doing anything about it. I told her, honestly this time (as opposed to many years ago when I never really tried), that I was working on eating more, that I am working on eating until I am satisfied. The only difficulty with this lately is that I never feel satisfied. I want so much more than is normal. And I believe this is because I am underweight. Of course, my mom is the only one with guts enough to say it aloud, perhaps because she's one of the few who understand the havoc this disorder can wreak. That is why, instead of doubting her (For who can help but doubt the over-protectiveness that comes with being a mom?), I'm believing her.

Admitting this now scares me. I want to be a normal weight. I know that the thoughts about food and the focus on food diminish when I eat enough and reach a healthy weight. But I have yet to fully step over the food hurdle. I have broken through with many fear foods in the last year. But it's time for more. I long for FULL recovery, and that takes "risky" moves sometimes.

Right now, I'm just below where I want to be weight and diet-wise. Notice that I said, "where I WANT to be." It's no longer about where I NEED to be. I have no answers to the question of where I should or need to be. I am not at a dangerous weight or doing anything monumentally perilous with food. Where I need to be is with my healthy desires. I am wise enough to know what is best. I believe that. I get more and more in touch with that part of me every day.

Let me outline the main points of this difficulty:
1) I am underweight.
2) I think I would be more beautiful/healthier/able to think more clearly if I were at a higher weight.
3) I must eat more in order to get to that higher weight.
4) I must be willing to eat foods that I have some anxiety toward in order to consume enough calories to gain weight.
5) I am still afraid of those foods.
6) I still have some worries about actually being bigger and staying that way (loss of power, loss of "special-ness").

So there it is, laid out as simple as day. My goal is to think more clearly and feel better. How does that happen? Gain weight. How does that happen? Eat enough. How does that happen? I must be willing to eat until I am actually SATISFIED - and this includes eating foods I am uncomfortable with while trusting myself to know when to stop eating.

I also have to realize that I am special without this eating disorder and powerful without being thin. I am unique and strong in and of myself, regardless of outside markers.

I want the food obsession to end. And until my body knows it is out of a physical danger zone, I will naturally, biologically focus on food. It's time to end this!

In light of my new goals, changes have to be made. I have made so much progress over the past decade, especially in the past four years, with this eating disorder. I must let go of it as an obsession to make room for the other things that wish to occupy my mind, like music, writing, friends, and general exploration of life. Right now, I tire myself out, and all I can think of is consuming food and then expending the energy I take in.

I have moved. I'm settled in, both in my new physical home and in recovery. It's time to release control.

This is not as simple as eating more. Or maybe it is that simple, but it's still not easy. It means letting down strongholds I have built up that dictate when I will eat, what kind of food, in what location, in addition to how much. It also ties into notions of my body and if I am willing to release the thin, childlike one I have for one more appropriate for my age and stature. I wouldn't mind looking more like a woman than a girl, would I?

Society approves of my current weight. I am no thinner than a typical movie actress. But I am thinner than I feel is optimal. I can tell. I hate looking in the mirror and thinking, "I look like a high schooler." No. I want the strong, sufficient woman on the inside to shine through on the outside. More food would give me the energy and appearance to do that.

So I am also bucking society. I have to do what is right for me. It means resting more and listening to my body, trusting that it knows how to take care of itself. I can enjoy food while not overindulging or restricting all the time. I don't have to be a tiny size to be loved or successful. I will find success that is not based on superficial things. And I will be focused and sharp enough to pursue my dreams. Food will not distract me from my goals.

Creative expression - musically and in my writing. Helping others with eating disorders or depression. Loving those around me. All of these are worthy goals. And I want the stamina to achieve them. I still want to ride my bike and rock climb and walk and swim and do all the active things I do. I have made huge strides in putting exercise in its place. Now, it's time to see what lies beneath my resistance to new foods. It's time to release control. It's time to let my body be my body as I let myself be me.

All these things seem like Eating Disorder Recovery 101 to me. But sometimes I have to work my way around, through all the abstract concepts and underlying factors in my eating disorder to get back to the plain truth: How I look and what I eat ARE components of this, and I must use all the deep emotional and spiritual work I've done to combat what lies on the surface. I will win, and how I feel physically will be an expression of that.

Come with me.

A Harder Day

2008-07-04T00:07:00.003-05:00

Today, I am having a bit of trouble. Everything from yesterday still holds true, but today is a new day. Right now, I feel far less accepting of my desire to be alone. My current routine feels disturbingly reminiscent of other times I have moved off into my own place. I am exploring the new territory to which I have moved, and that has provided immense fun. But it feels like much of my time is spent alone. And I must confess that a large portion of my exploring has been restaurant and food-related. I wonder if I will go into binge mode.

I know all the tools I have. I know all the fun and interesting things to do out there, and when I don't know what's going on, I know where to look. I just don't care right now. I want to be alone. I want to cave in. I want to be inside myself and feel out all these feelings. I want to turn inside out and become a new person.

These are strange feelings. But I have seen something that has thrown me off-kilter lately and may be one source of angst: a lack of commitment from people, or at least broken commitments. People either refuse to make promises or break them. It seems that the last few weeks have been rampant with cancellations. This means that I have more of a desire to behave the same way: avoid making plans, stay in my own space, deny that others need my side to make plans, too. It's easy to fall into this - as if I will always have last-minute options arise that will be better than potential plans I could make.

I just feel undervalued. It seems that people I care very deeply for are not making me a priority at all. I am not worth their time - or there are other people in their lives who matter more.

Now, I recognize the selfishness and self-centeredness of this. I want people to devote time and energy to me. And I want to be wanted more than anyone else in their lives. Well, of course, that lacks any tie to reality. Family comes up. I live far away now. But I want to be desired. I want to be reached out to. I used to drop in on people. No one drops in on me. I live far away. This is hard to cope with. I want more friends who live closer.

And so, here I am, fantasizing about food off and on, uncertain about how much I want to exercise, go out, play music, or do ANYTHING. Familiar? Why do I always wind up here?

Can I accept myself if I only want to lay around and eat? Can I make healthy choices? Can I be social enough? Will I create a vibrant life for myself on this new side of town? Yes. Yes. I know what is best. I am following it. I must believe this. I am loved - even if by me alone. I'm sure other people love me, too. I just want to feel it.

I thought I would confess my current food/exercise worries simply to put it out there. I fear falling off the wagon and no one seeing. Even if they saw, would they pick me up? Could they pick me up? I may have to do that for myself.

But I do not intend to fall. I intend to rest and let myself be until I do desire healthier things. This shift usually occurs sooner than I expect. Learning to trust.