This Post Has Pictures!

I'm in the middle of yoga-only week, and feeling fantastic! I did a DVD on Monday, two of the old DVRed shows from FitTv (I refuse to upgrade to an HD receiver because I don't want to lose all my old taped workout shows!) on Tuesday, my own flow yesterday, and an old podcast I found on the husband's computer this morning. It's been challenging physically and mentally, and also extremely relaxing. I've made time for meditation each morning as well, so the days have been starting off calm and easy. More spiritual food has included some new dharma talk podcasts, and focusing my studies on one aspect of the Eightfold Path each week - this is week two, right intention.

It's interesting to take a step back and observe that while I hope to always have the best of intentions in my action with the world, it's not always the case. Sometimes my intentions are to get what I want from someone, to force someone to have a positive opinion of me or the same opinions regarding my views, to validate my need to feel loved, and other unnecessary or unskillful things that pop up here and there. I tend to just float through these interactions. So taking some time to try to be mindful of what lies beneath some of my habits while remaining nonjudgmental has been tough. It's a struggle to face certain things in myself. But it's rewarding in so many ways, and I know that I want to continue my practice.

Craftiness! Here's a picture of the finished cross-stitch I worked for my Ma!

I framed it and mailed it off to her. The original kit called for stitching, "I don't do mornings!" at the bottom, but she's always been such a good Kitty (and Doggy) Mama that I decided to freestyle this in for her. She loved it! Then she went to one of her local thrift stores and bought like fifty sampler books, tons of fabric, and a few other awesome cross-stitch supplies and shipped them my way. It was better than Christmas!

The husband and I visited James River State Park near Amherst, VA this past weekend. It's always been one of my favorite parks. I've tubed from Canoe Landing to Dixon Landing a few times, but this time we decided to participate in a guided canoe trip instead. It was super cheap and made a lot more sense than the other options we were considering. Plus, we'd never canoed together before and it'd been a while since either of us were in Scouts or 4H camp, so we are taking baby steps. The guide, Courtney, was a great leader and led our group underneath the railroad tracks through an old aqueduct. Super spooky and gorgeous. We spent the rest of our time at the park cooking up tasty campfire food (I freaking love breakfast quesadillas!), fishing a little bit (I caught a teeny fish!), reading, and I worked more on a Christmas cross-stitch gift. This was the view from the door of our tent:

It was a gorgeous site in the primitive Canoe Landing area. The only thing primitive about this section is that there's only a privy close by, and you have to drive to a bathhouse for running water or hot showers. Which isn't primitive; it's awesome.

Also, I set that tent up all by myself! Jeff had to work a full day, but I took leave and enjoyed a peaceful, gorgeous, slightly adventurous drive out there in the early afternoon. I did have some help from a really cool camp neighbor to get the rainfly over the top, which was great because I got a little stuck there haha.

Not much else is going on. Evenings have consisted of getting some dinner prepared, trying to do a chore or two, and then watching our favorite TV shows on our favorite couch. We're huge on Big Brother and are watching Under the Dome because Jeff read the book, though he insists it's nothing like the book. There's also been a lot of this happening in the evenings:

Current Craft Happenings and Finding Balance On and Off the Mat

Random things going on!

I finished a pretty detailed cross-stitch gift for my Ma a couple of days ago, and framed it the other night with an old 5x7 I had laying around the house. It fit perfectly, which is crazy awesome. I'm going to post a pic soon, but not until after I get it mailed out to her. She doesn't check my blog as far as I know, but I'd be super peeved if she caught a glimpse of it online before she gets the chance to open her package wondering, "What could this be?" and then being all proud and smiley when she unwraps it. Some things are way better in person than online. Most things, in fact. Bad porn is probably better online than in person though.

Other fun crafts in progress include a wall hanging that my Aunt lent me instructions for, and plans for a quilted drying mat for my smoothie cup and our coffee mugs, so I can stop using a bajillion paper towels each day. I got some pretty fat quarters for the drying mat, and it should be an easy project and great opportunity to try binding again.

I've been loving my body lately and remembering to exercise for fun instead of to attain a body that is not attainable with my genetics and love of beer. I finished up the Lean Circuit of ChaLean Extreme, which was fantastic and helped me make some strength gains. I had to move 20' sticks of 2-1/2" and 3" copper pipe earlier at work today, and amazed myself by handling the 2-1/2" on my own. I used to struggle big-time with 2" twenty-footers. Lifting heavy things safely is fun.

So, I started a new round of Jillian's Body Revolution because I had a lot of fun with the rotation last summer. I've already found myself a little too in-my-head about it, though. My goal is to do the strength workouts each week and do the cardio at least once, and do my own cardio on the other cardio day. But what if I burn out? Her cardio is so tough! Ugh, I'm being a baby. I can do her cardio at least once per week. But I need to be easy on myself, so I don't get obsessive about my body! But if I'm too easy on myself, I'm going to gain weight and that would be the end of the world! No, no it wouldn't be. Stop being ridiculous. Yes, my head is always deliberating in this way. Especially when I sit down to meditate and hope to find my quiet mind. Haha.

So I'm going to try to compromise. I love structure with my workouts, because I don't like waking up at 3:30am and making decisions. About anything. But I like when I'm able to take it easy and be happy with myself without having to go all-out, full-on, hardcore with fitness. This is also much safer for my body, in the present and in the long run. I'm concerned about my body's mobility and resistance to injury above all the other junk that is constantly spewed at me in these workout videos and fitness blogs. My compromise is this: I will complete each two-week segment of Body Revolution as planned. Scheduled strength workouts and one day of the cardio. If I feel like doing additional cardio on a 6th day, I will do it, but if I don't, I won't beat myself up. I don't think I am overtraining, but I know I've been close a few times - which violates the whole, mobility-and-injury-prevention-above-all-else thing. After each two-week session, I will take a week off and do yoga. Nothing but yoga. I already do really gentle yoga nearly every day following a workout, but a week of yoga will be so refreshing and really help me to focus on self-love and opening up to each present moment throughout my day.

With greater self-control in some areas of my life, I find that I lose self-control in others. I always thought that losing weight would be THE SOLUTION for me. It turns out it led to more feelings of inadequacy, and that if I don't take care of my mind, it will always want to obsess about something that's not worth obsessing about.

Food Issues and Fairy Angels

I read a blog post, linked by a friend on Facebook yesterday that brought me to tears. Your Fairy Angel wrote an amazing post extending a heartfelt apology to her former clients at a popular weight loss company. It's long, but it's a great read. For those who want a summary, she basically explains how while she had the best intentions, she came to realize that her job was to help her clients lose weight - which they did through her services - but then gain it back when they stopped using the services. Pretty much, the clients learned that they had to stick with this company to keep the weight that they were so desperate to lose away. She also describes helping clients who clearly didn't need to lose weight or body fat, or who were there because of pressure from parents or peers. I have so much respect for this blogger, and the post came at a time when I really needed to read it. I needed a reminder that almost all the weight loss information out there is complete bull.

I'm sure you've heard: diets are horrible, because they work, but then when you stop the diet, you gain all the weight back and usually more. Chronic dieting can lead to thyroid and metabolic disorders. It just makes no sense to deprive your body of the fuel it needs to keep each wonderful cell and function operational. Many of us, though, have grown up hearing more often that dieting will somehow lead to happiness in some form.

This go-round, I have kept what I always considered my, "extra weight," off for four years. That's incredible. I attribute this to the fact that I was determined that each change I made with exercise and nutrition, I would be able to stick with for life. I followed all the suggestions to make lifestyle changes instead of temporary fixes. Yet even with how much more energy I have, how much better I am sleeping regularly, and how much nicer it is to feel generally fit... I still have extremely low self-esteem more than half of the time. I'll go through periods where I'm pleased with my exercise regimen, accepting of my cravings for treats, and proud of my strength gains. But more often, I still deal with guilt each time I skip a planned workout (even when I make it up later!), anger when my pants are tighter in the afternoon than in the morning (hormones!), and thoughts about turning to old, unhealthy patterns after I've eaten more than an average portion of any type of food. I've been in a pretty bad rut for about two weeks now. It makes absolutely no sense. Some days, I get frustrated with myself for not seeing what is true, and then I deal with the frustration by eating more or some other subtle self-sabotage. Makes no sense, but I know there are lots of folks out there who feel me on this.

Your Fairy Angel's post reminded me that in this moment, I can accept myself. I can accept that I'm still trying to wear pants that are a size too small. I can accept that I'm lying to myself when I say that I'm counting calories again, "to see where I need to increase certain nutrients in my diet." I can accept that a 1200 calorie goal is really, really unhealthy, especially when I've been doing crazier cardio and heavier weights. I can accept that the lifestyle changes I really could make are the ones that I'm most avoiding admitting, like drinking a 12-pack of beer every weekend and using Monopoly as an excuse to get McDonald's three times in a week. I can still have beer and McDonald's, and I likely will want to enjoy these things forever, but moderation has never been a strength of mine. Avoiding this truth in this moment doesn't help anything, but neither does beating myself up mentally for the choices I've made in past moments. Accepting my body as healthy, loving it and filling it with my spiritual light, and taking a few moments to breathe deeply and drench each cell with oxygen are all a lot more helpful. So is being grateful for bloggers like Your Fairy Angel and other people in the world who are willing to speak truth.

Morning Intentions

I love the idea of writing down my intentions each morning, but it's not something I practice regularly. This morning, while trying to remain present during my shower instead of letting my insanely frantic mind run away with images of the past and future, I decided I'd write down my intentions in the kitchen before heading out the door... then totally forgot during my busied morning routine. So I thought, I'll blog them! I love blogging.

Then my typically one-hour commute turned into two hours because of what was likely a really bad accident. I stayed present with my impatience and sent out kind thoughts to all who were involved. I had to pee. Really, really badly. I thought about opening my car door and the back driver's side door and popping a squat between them. I thought about emptying my coffee cup and peeing in it and trying to dump it out the window enough times to drain my bladder. I thought about how horrible it made my body feel. I thought about how much I hate driving such a long distance to work, and how unfair it is that so many jobs I've applied for aren't giving me a chance, and how most of them are only posted for show anyways because they already know who they're going to hire because so-and-so knows so-and-so, and my blood boiled with anger and my eye started twitching and... you get the picture. I'm really hormonal this week, which isn't helping anything.

Then I got to work, late, which my boss is more than understanding about. He's a really good guy, and one of the few reasons I haven't just quit this job to work at Walmart until I find something in social work. Work has been insane. I can't even go into detail. Just insane. Maniacal laughter insane. In fact, I started on this blog entry two hours ago. And when the UPS guy just dropped off a next-day-air package, he told me that he's got more than twenty boxes for us at our regular delivery time. MANIACAL LAUGHTER INSANE.

But anyways, the point is this: I am now going to write down some daily intentions. To keep me focused. To sink my roots a little more deeply into today.

• I intend to remain in the present moment, even the hormonally-charged, blood-boiling moments. I intent to meet all these emotions with an open heart and shine light on them, rather than trying to shove past them and keep them in the dark.
• I intend to stretch my body out again at some point. Already did some yoga but my muscles are super sore. In a good way.
• I intent to make at least five people smile today, and at least three people laugh.

Road Trip to Philly, Kayaking, and Missing Home

I took a road trip on my own to the Philadelphia area over this long weekend. My dad's side of the family lives up there, and I haven't been able to see them as often as I would like throughout my life. I was also craving a good, long car ride by myself and a little time away from home. I don't always feel great at home, because I'm constantly thinking of the ways that I should be more productive there, and imagining that I'm failing at keeping everything completely clean and well-kept. This is pretty delusional, because the house stays clean and my husband and I do a really good job at keeping everything up inside and outside. Anyways, so that was my motivation for heading out for a few days.

I had a blast! I truly enjoyed the drive up on Thursday. There weren't too many people traveling, and I took Route 301 through Maryland and over the Annapolis Bay Bridge, which I don't think I've done before. What a cool bridge! There were hundreds of sailboats out in the bay, which looked really pretty from so high on the bridge. I enjoyed a nice long lunch break at the funniest McDonalds on Kent Island, that has murals of carrots and tomatoes on the walls, because of course everyone wakes up and thinks, "I really want some carrots today, so I'm gonna head to McD's." My love for McDonalds does not falter, though. I forgive them.

I was able to head straight to my cousin's house for their cookout, complete with deliciously grilled meats, awesome slaws, ice cream cake, and lots of time in the sunshine. It was really nice catching up with everyone, and I made some plans with my aunt and uncle for the following day before heading home with Gramma for a quiet evening on the couch. We tried to stay up to watch the Philly fireworks, but who was I kidding? I was passed out on her awesomely firm guest mattress before ten.

Friday morning I woke up earlier than anyone should on a vacation and got ready to walk over to spend the day with my aunt and uncle. I decided I wanted some hot breakfast and looked up the nearest Wawa on my maps app before turning the phone off for the day. On my stroll through Lansdowne towards Wawa, I spotted the little breakfast cafe that Jeff and I had enjoyed on our last visit, and was able to get a delicious bacon and cheddar breakfast sandwich on sourdough with a gigantic coffee. I sat at the window and watched the folks walking by, trying to imagine their stories and honor their presence on the streets that morning. The rest of the walk was filled with interesting little birds flying around and taking delight in all the perfectly trimmed flowers in the yards.

We headed to the Schuylkill River so I could finally try kayaking! I'm glad I googled the river name, because I totally imagined it as "Skoogle." Haha. We paddled almost two miles against the current, which Uncle John kept saying was much stronger than usual since they'd had as much rain as we've had down here in VA. It was tough! I really enjoyed the meditative aspects, though. Not much time to think of anything else except for, is my paddle facing the right way? Why does it feel like my sunscreen wasn't sprayed on in certain places on my arms? How awesome is this swishy swishy noise? We turned and floated back to the landing, which took about a quarter of the time it took to get up the river. So peaceful.

The rest of the day was spent with Aunt Sue in her sewing room, learning little tips and admiring her works (and amazing machine!), reading for a bit on my Gramma's sunporch, and pigging out on delicious tilapia, veggies, and Aunt Sue's delicious baba ghanoush creation from her freshly picked eggplants. Another early night to bed, and I slept like a baby. I slipped in early Saturday to tell her goodbye and admired her little body, curled up in the tiniest ball while she slept. She's still really healthy for someone in their 80s but her body is nonetheless aging. It's beautiful, a little frightening, and reminded me of our connection even though we're normally so far from each other.

I stopped in MD on the way home to have breakfast with my dad and stepmom, which involved even more incredible food! They live on the bay, and it was great to be able to spend a few moments out next to the water before hopping in the car for a very tough ride back home. I'm pretty sure lots of other folks decided to try to beat the traffic by traveling on Saturday instead of Sunday. It was a great opportunity to practice patience and compassion, which I mostly did really poorly with haha, but it was practice.

I arrived home to perfectly cut grass, a powerwashed house and deck, and an amazing, handsome husband sitting in the living room floor doing his least favorite chore: folding laundry. I felt so much well up inside of me, from love and tenderness to a little bit of guilt for leaving him alone all weekend. I just hugged him. A lot. And promised myself I'd remember those feelings and the strong longing I had to be with him and with home while I was gone. I'll remember them when I'm frustrated that the grass is an inch higher than it is when it's freshly cut. I'll remember them when I'm cranky and whiny and just want to sit on the couch instead of straightening up or vacuuming. I'll remember them when I'm tired after a long day and just want to order pizza, but am fortunate enough to have fresh meats and veggies stocking the fridge. I'll remember that those feelings are so much stronger than the avoidance, dread, and frustration that all stem from fear that I'm less than something.

Open Spaces, Distractions, Confusion, Inactions

Tara Brach's latest post over at Wildmind contains a few lines from a really awesome poem by Judy Brown, called "Fire."

What makes a fire burn

is the space between the logs,

a breathing space.

Too much of a good thing,

too many logs

packed in too tight

can douse the flames

almost as surely

as a pail of water would.

So building fires

requires attention

to the spaces in between

as much as the wood...

I haven't read the rest of her post yet, but wanted to zip over here quickly this morning and write a few things out that have been on my mind. I want to insert a little breathing space into my week, because while I've had some, I've also had lots of things, too.

I've been feeling disconnected from my own fire. I'm so spread out right now. I'm getting home before my husband each evening, which is a reversal from how things were before his promotion and my furlough. I get home and aim to do at least two or three things around the house to keep it clean, then start on dinner. I feel so whiny admitting this, but I freakin' hate being a grownup and all the responsibilities that come with it. I want to eat whole foods, so I have to prepare them. I feel more peaceful in a clean house, so I have to maintain that cleanliness. I don't even have any kids and I feel like I'm constantly falling behind. I'm really not. It's hard to remember that sometimes.

My spare time is flaky, bouncing back and forth between studying the incredibly interesting materials I bought to prepare for a group exercise certification, dabbling with my sewing machine and trying to figure out what project I actually want to begin, lifting weights and hopping around in the living room, meditating in brief spurts, and reading. I've been feeling that my lack of focus on any particular thing has been hindering my future. If I don't throw everything into my group ex certification, am I just wasting the money I spent on the study materials? If I keep getting scared to try working with a zipper, will I ever become the expert seamstress that I want to become? Is my mental health suffering because of my lack of consistency with formal meditation? How will I ever become a master at all these things if I can't spend more than an hour at a time working on a single one?!?

I prepared for my day off this week by creating a "Self-Compassion Tuesday To-Do" list, because I freaking love lists and have slowly become okay with the idea that not everything needs to be checked off of them. I created some breathing space between the logs of my fire. I spent a little bit of time studying in the morning, and again in the afternoon. I spent two hours at the library reading and fiddling with a new toy that I can't access wifi with at home. I went to a new yoga studio because the first class is free, and despite my preference for a home practice, it's good to get into a class sometimes and accept a little challenge. I mowed the grass and enjoyed it, because I get to wear my garden tube top and get sun on my shoulders, and because a shower after mowing the grass is always the best shower ever.

I've remained distracted since Self-Compassion Tuesday, but things are feeling a little different. Because I infused the compassion. I have been trying to remind myself that there's no finish line for my fire, aside from the finish line that meets us all in the end. I want my fire to blaze brightly, keep my loved ones warm, and light my life in tons of ways. I don't need to be afraid of it burning for only one passion, because too much of anything will smother. The ways that I skip around from thing to thing are the spaces between my logs.

So with these feelings this morning, I am turning down a few offers for excitement and bustling this evening. I had a friend offer to take me to see Brad Paisley because she doesn't want to go alone and already has a ticket, and yes I will regret passing up on this. I've heard so many good things about Brad Paisley live. Another new friend that hung out with my sister and I last night and engaged in incredible conversations with me wants me to stop by on my way home for some more talking. I want to sew and read and finish a study guide and bend and stretch and sit and dance, but stronger than anything, I feel a pull to just sit and veg out with my husband tonight. Maybe nap a few times before actually going to bed. The space between my logs in this moment is inaction and acceptance, and taking some time to be with myself before getting back into anything else later this weekend.

I hope it's a great weekend for all and that others are able to figure out ways to make spaces between their logs!

The word was CELEBRATE!

I first heard this joke on a podcast from Tara Brach, who has become one of my favorite spiritual teachers since a very dear friend lent me her book Radical Acceptance in 2010. I still have not returned that book, which I am not proud of. I am sometimes a bad borrower. Anyways, the joke:

A young monk arrives at a monastery to begin studying with a well-known elder monk. Upon his arrival, the elder monk put the young monk to work with the other residents, copying the ancient Buddhist texts to dispense to the laymen of their community. The young monk noticed that the books they were copying were actually copies of the original texts, and with concern, approached the elder monk to assert that the monastery should actually copy from the original sutras. The elder monk paused, thought, and agreed, "Yes! We have been copying from copies for years, so many important messages could have been lost in translation along the way. I shall go to the basement to read the original texts and be sure that we've been teaching the correct messages."

The elder monk went to the basement and was gone for several hours. The young monk, concerned for the elder monk's safety, went to the basement to see what had been taking so long. There he found the elder monk banging his head against the wall over and over. "Elder monk! What is wrong?"

The elder monk turned to look at the young monk and stated exasperatedly, "The word was celebrate!"

Hahahaha. I love that. Tara Brach, I believe, was using this story as an example of how we must seek truth and wisdom from our own experiences or direct sources, rather than listening to every interpretation of teachings we come across. I think. But this morning, as I became slightly frustrated with myself for picking up a third cigarette on my drive to work after promising myself I'd only have two, the story came to mind.

I know that smoking is bad for me and those around me. Though I do get a bit of enjoyment at gasping and exclaiming, "Oh no! A wizard gave these to me and said they were health sticks!" when a stranger gives me a reminder. I shouldn't; I know that most people are just trying to be helpful. But mayyyybe some of them just enjoy pointing out others' stupidity (to make themselves feel smart). Anyways, so I know smoking is bad. And I will quit someday. "Someday" is much better than my previous blanket statement on smoking, "Suck my toe; I can smoke if I want, and I enjoy it, so I'm never quitting." I am getting some wisdom as I get deeper into adulthood.

For now, I am trying to reduce the number of cigarettes I smoke in a day. I had great success with this in college, when having a monthly income of $38 forced me to limit my daily cigarettes to ten or less. I'd write out my schedule for the following day and plan my cigarettes for the most stressful or relaxing times, which are the times when I most enjoy puffing on a stick of death. I smoke about a pack a day as a moneymaking adult, though. That's twenty. Sometimes more if I'm more stressed, like during a particularly shitty workday, or more relaxed, like during a particularly fun night out with my girlfriends. And beer.

So to improve my lung capacity, reduce the guilt I encounter for adding my daily vice into our monthly budget planning, and increase the chances of successfully quitting someday, I am trying to cut back again. I like to break my long-term goals into smaller attainable goals. My commute is a major trigger for chain-smoking. It's an hour at minimum, and I have little landmarks where I'd usually light one up. I usually smoked three on the way into work, and four on the way home. I'm working on two cigarettes in each direction now. Monday and Tuesday this week were a great triumph! I'm pretty sure I only smoked fourteen cigarettes all day yesterday. That's like 30% less than usual. Boom. I felt so great about it when I woke up.

So while driving into work, I hit my fourth landmark (and had only smoked two cigarettes). I started justifying all the reasons it would be "smart" to smoke a cigarette then rather than waiting until I got to work, when I inevitably smoke a good-morning cigarette with the boss. I told myself that I deserved that extra commute cigarette, dammit. I lit it up. It wasn't easy. I actually spilled coffee during my inner argument - all over the car and my pants - and then dropped my lighter on the floorboard and had to pull over, get out of the car, and retrieve it. A more superstitious Lisa might have thought the universe was trying to tell me something. But this morning's Lisa was like, "JUST GET IN MY MOUTH AND BE LIT, NEWPORT!" Then I smoked it and felt incredible guilty. I almost let the wave of guilt taint my mood as I entered work. Then I remembered the story.

I have so much to celebrate. I made it through two whole days smoking half the cigarettes I would normally smoke on my way to work. I have cut down on drinking and a ton of other things that negatively affected my health for many years. I'm using mindfulness to pay attention when someone tells me that I'm doing something unhealthy. I'm using mindfulness to be fully present in each uncomfortable moment, when my chest is tight and my throat is sore, when before I'd easily brush these indicators off and tell myself that I'm too badass to care about the future of my body and relationships.

The word is celebrate, not celibate.