I enjoy several activities that may be unrelated for the outside observer: cleaning the house, planning meals, pulling weeds (or at least thinking about how to effectively get rid of them without a flamethrower). It never occurred to me until recently that these all have an aspect of improvement about them that never actually succeeds. The enjoyment comes from that brief moment where the act in it's end, seems complete.
The reality in the next moment is that nothing is ever perfect. The next day I always notice a dusty patch I missed or I don't follow what I planned to eat or the weeds are twice as bad (because invariably thinking about how to get rid of them doesn't actually do the deed).
Was there ever a moment of self-realization when we were young when we knew what we would be up against? Did it ever stop us from making messes, especially for our parents? Did it ever stop us from eating just two more cookies?
I think that's where part of my eating problem comes from, the fact that I know I will never be perfect so where is the harm going to come from. The thing is, I know where it leads and even less perfect is worse than reasonably normal. There is nothing wrong with having some squish on my body but there is something wrong with not being able to move. There is nothing wrong with a dusty patch I missed, but there shouldn't be so much dust that I can't breathe. A patch of chickweed I can overlook but a whole yard overrun will fetch me a letter from the homeowner's association. These are the observations that make us adults.
These are also the moments that trigger my brain that I'm finally full and I can stop gorging on cookies and to put a note on the fridge that we can no longer buy Chips Ahoy chunky peanut butter and chocolate cookies because they are too good.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Fresh start: go!
My favorite type of chili is very simple -- lean ground beef with slight spice, pinto beans, chunks of canned tomato, kidney beans if I'm feeling beany, and a generous portion of shredded cheddar cheese. When it's fresh and hot, it really is delicious but pack it away for a couple days in the fridge and then reheat and then it's at it's finest. The key is to let it take a break.
I do this a lot in my life without really knowing it until I'm on the other side of the break.
One of the most important things I've learned about myself in the past decade is that I enjoy slow and simple. You can have the most complex anything (especially music) but unless my ears or eyes can pick apart the layers, I won't really feel it.
I decided a bit less than a decade ago that I wanted to write, so I did. I wrote two novel-length pieces of speculative fiction and had plans for more. I wrote a number of short stories, all either science fiction, fantasy, or an odd mixture of both (which now apparently is lumped into speculative fiction). I went to conventions, I was in a writing group, I wrote reviews for several publications, and I submitted my stuff to countless publishing houses and magazines (without success).
The beginning of my break coincided with the end of my first marriage. I thought I would use that summer (2003) to edit my second book, to really polish it and find a publisher. I got stuck in an endless cycle of 'it's not good enough' and I set it aside. I don't think I will ever revisit it because it's not who I am anymore and I don't ever think it's who I was. I think writing all that stuff was important though because I was writing.
Several things have come to mind in the interim. You always hear people saying to write what you know but honestly, I think I would rather write about what I like. One other thing is that I would get really discouraged that I was writing and submitting and getting rejected, that I would go into the bookstore and there would be rows and rows of just crap writing. I realized that even though those folks got published, I wasn't reading their books (and probably nobody else was either because all those books are still there) so it shouldn't matter.
So my brain let that congeal into knowing I want to write for myself about things I like.
I'm not saying that my writing is the best in the world because if you have any sort of intelligence at all, you realize that there will always be somebody stronger, smarter, faster...whatever, they are out there. The difference is timing, connections, and that amazing human trait to endure humiliation otherwise known as tenacity.
No guarantees I won't slip up and write a random story about the crazy dreams I have now and then (the one about the giant turtle who travels across galaxies comes to mind...) but I'm going to start with my small list of things I like, starting with paper. Results to be posted soon.
I do this a lot in my life without really knowing it until I'm on the other side of the break.
One of the most important things I've learned about myself in the past decade is that I enjoy slow and simple. You can have the most complex anything (especially music) but unless my ears or eyes can pick apart the layers, I won't really feel it.
I decided a bit less than a decade ago that I wanted to write, so I did. I wrote two novel-length pieces of speculative fiction and had plans for more. I wrote a number of short stories, all either science fiction, fantasy, or an odd mixture of both (which now apparently is lumped into speculative fiction). I went to conventions, I was in a writing group, I wrote reviews for several publications, and I submitted my stuff to countless publishing houses and magazines (without success).
The beginning of my break coincided with the end of my first marriage. I thought I would use that summer (2003) to edit my second book, to really polish it and find a publisher. I got stuck in an endless cycle of 'it's not good enough' and I set it aside. I don't think I will ever revisit it because it's not who I am anymore and I don't ever think it's who I was. I think writing all that stuff was important though because I was writing.
Several things have come to mind in the interim. You always hear people saying to write what you know but honestly, I think I would rather write about what I like. One other thing is that I would get really discouraged that I was writing and submitting and getting rejected, that I would go into the bookstore and there would be rows and rows of just crap writing. I realized that even though those folks got published, I wasn't reading their books (and probably nobody else was either because all those books are still there) so it shouldn't matter.
So my brain let that congeal into knowing I want to write for myself about things I like.
I'm not saying that my writing is the best in the world because if you have any sort of intelligence at all, you realize that there will always be somebody stronger, smarter, faster...whatever, they are out there. The difference is timing, connections, and that amazing human trait to endure humiliation otherwise known as tenacity.
No guarantees I won't slip up and write a random story about the crazy dreams I have now and then (the one about the giant turtle who travels across galaxies comes to mind...) but I'm going to start with my small list of things I like, starting with paper. Results to be posted soon.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
12 pounds, I hardly knew ye.
Having been on a prescription food plan since early January and prescribing as much walking as my legs could handle, I discovered over the weekend that I have dropped 12 pounds since the first visit to the nutritionist. When the endocrinologist said to be more aggressive, my body was listening.
Now, oddly, this weight loss is too fast for me. I don't really want to do more than two pounds a week. I don't think I'm going to change much this month especially because I'm really enjoying the exercise, but if I have another huge loss in February I may want to consult with the nutritionist again.
I've scoured through my closet and I'm donating anything too big, too ugly, or that I never wore for whatever reason, to Goodwill. This includes a pair of jeans that last Friday literally fell off while I was walking through the kitchen. Hubby and I had a good laugh but I'm glad that didn't happen at work. I guess it would have been a funny story...
Also, this now means that I can officially play Wii Fit without breaking the balance board that comes with it. I plan on loading that up Friday night for sure unless I decide to go with Jim and meet some of his friends.
I've always been a bit afraid to go with him because I don't want to seem out of place, especially because I'm taller than he is. I realized that's pretty silly though and I think it would be fun to meet some of the folks he's always talking about.
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