Space for "I Can't"

I'm that curious kind of over-achiever who, having tasted a lot of success in some areas early on, decides that perfection is the necessary thing.  When perfection becomes harder to achieve or impossible, something stutters in our brains.  We become immobilized and resentful.  We stop trying because hell, if it can't be perfect, hang it up.

Case in point (and here I'll be posting something shameful):  my dining room table. Here's a balls to the wall, fully exposed shot of what I see from my perch behind my laptop as I write this:

Here we have the remainder of lunch-making supplies -- the kids had PB&J and SmartFood popcorn, among other things.  Also included is Chickadee #1's lunchbox, which was in the car overnight.  She went to school with her lunch in a paper bag today.  I have a plastic liter bottle of water on the table -- I was terribly thirsty after yoga this morning.  My purse (you can just see the strap) is on the chair opposite me.  One of the girls left her pink glass on the table this morning.  The telephone is at my side in case my sister calls from France.  My empty tea cup is farthest from me, patiently waiting for me to fill it again with my favorite tea, PG Tips.

The point is, looking at this makes me exhausted.  This morning's disorganized rush for the door meant that I didn't have time to clear the table after making lunches.  Then I ran off to yoga and got caught in a massive, tear-inducing traffic jam.  After yoga, I rushed home again and, instead of calmly clearing the table, I sat down and started to write this post. 

I had something I wanted to say: 



Gomukhasana

The notorious cow-faced pose:



I've written about this crazy thing before.  I'm sorry to say that it is no easier now than it was then.  In some ways, it was more difficult today.  As I attempted to twist my legs into this position, I could feel the entire left side of my left leg burning as if it was on fire.  I could sort of do it, but it was miserable.  After class, I was talking to my yoga teacher about it and she suggested that I might want to do the pose in a chair.  I'm also using a chair for my foot exercises and I am a much happier person for it. 

I was thinking about this on the way home.  I think that one of the things I like the best about the yoga class and the teacher's approach to it is that it leaves space for "I Can't".  I can't twist my legs into that position.  I just don't have the flexibility.  And, instead of feeling defeated by that, I'm empowered to do what I can.  To try even though it's difficult.  I'm very grateful for the space Marianne gives me for "I can't" because I don't think I give it to myself often enough.  I look at my messy dining room table and beat myself up because it is that way.  I look at the number on my scale and actually consider doing surgical violence to my body because I am so discouraged with my progress.  I don't want to go through the process of succeeding.  I want to have succeeded. 

I remember telling a friend a long time ago that I wished my life were over -- I wished that I were 80 years old and looking back on a life well-lived, a happy marriage, wonderful children.  I wanted to know that everything turned out all right.   My friends laugh at me because I read the endings of books early on.  I want to know how the plot ends and then find out how it fell together.  I'm not sure what this says about me or my apparently permanently frustrating weight loss journey.  I'm sure it says something.

Psychoanalysis in the comments will be gratefully accepted.   

Fasting update

I've done the fasting cure for two weeks now.  This week I haven't started -- yesterday, we had some dental trauma with the chickadees that involved laughing gas, a tooth extraction, and an all-ice-cream diet for Chickadee #1 and two (count 'em, TWO) fillings for Chickadee #2.  We followed that up with a visit to the dreaded McDonald's, which we chose at the express wish of Chickadee #1 who, in my estimation, had been a trouper when it came to getting her tooth pulled.  I'm sure the nitrous oxide had a lot to do with that, but I was still proud of her behavior.  She got "ice cream" and Chickadee #2 got a cheeseburger.  I got the Angus burger and I really didn't like it, yet I ate it all.  Still have some more work to do on myself, I guess.  I did make up for the atrocious lunch I had by having lovely lentil soup and homemade ciabatta for dinner.  Today, I've had a slow start, having to oversee the drafting of a letter of apology to a teacher this morning, making lunches, and getting the chickadees off to school.  I sat in the car to plan my day, naming going to Curves, saying morning prayers, painting a kitchen wall, and prepping the back porch for spring as among my priorities.

Instead, I emptied and filled the dishwasher and made these disgusting things (Peanut Butter Oatmeal Bars).  The children will love them.  I'll have to be judicious with them or they'll devour the entire 9x13 pan today.  I think I'll wait til they are cool, cut them into bars, and pre-package them for lunches, then throw them into the freezer.

1 ZILLION WW POINTS PER SQ. IN.

From that, back to fasting... the four days of fast I've completed have been really good, with the exception of the first day.  I have felt empowered and strong each time and have been really proud of myself for staying on track.  It's kind of an amazing feeling.  I'm going to fast again tomorrow and Friday.  Will keep you updated!

Flawless Girl

The other day, I saw a beautiful video from Dove about women's perceptions of themselves.  It's part of their Campaign for Real Beauty.  It was very moving and poignant, and I've been wondering how others would describe me to a forensic artist.  I look at my face and see its flaws - the skin tone that is muted, the circles under my eyes, the falling chin, the short eyelashes and small eyes and mouth.  I try not to look too closely:

(FYI, the poem on the whiteboard to my left is James Joyce's Go Seek Her Out, which I put on my poetry whiteboard in dual honor of Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day).  Guess I need to change to T.S. Eliot's opening lines of The Waste Land or Chaucer's opening lines of The Canterbury Tales.  I try to keep it fresh.  I'm hoping the chickadees will learn to love poetry by osmosis.)

Right now, my daughters are watching Phineas and Ferb, probably the only program they like than I can stand (with the exception of the Science Channel's How It's Made).  The episode is called "Attack of the 50 Foot Sister" and is a fantastic send up of the unreasonable expectations women have of themselves and how the "beauty industry" feeds their insecurities.  My favorite is the song, "Flawless Girl"

Psalm 139.  Psalm 139.  Psalm 139. 

I know I'll never be a flawless girl.  And really, I don't want to be -- I'd rather be able to run out of the house to pick up the girls after a long day of spring cleaning in a tunic and pj bottoms (sadly, my outfit of today).  But the pressure is still there. 

Psalm 139 works for me.

Fasting, Day 3

I didn't write about it, but last Thursday was my second day of fasting.  For some reason, I must like self-torture because I ended up in the grocery store on Thursday morning, as I had on Monday.  But I did wonderfully well at the store -- I had 2 boiled eggs for 72 calories each, 3 pieces of mini-pita for a total of 90 calories and about a cup of raw spinach (thank goodness for Whole Foods!).  So that is a total of 234 calories for breakfast.  For dinner, I did less well, but still reasonable.  I had 1 cup of spaghetti with 1/2 cup of Classico spaghetti sauce and a big salad.  The spaghetti noodles were about 220 calories and the sauce was 70 calories.  So, all in all, I did really well (yeah me!)  at 524 calories.  The only issue I had with the whole thing was that I ate breakfast a bit later than I should have (around 9 rather than 7:30) and had dinner earlier than I should have (around 5 rather than 7:30) because of some issues with my schedule.  So I only had eight hours to contend with rather than 12.  I'm not sure that matters, but it still wasn't what I wanted.

Today is my third fast day.  I had oatmeal for breakfast (145 calories) and just now had an orange  (62 calories).  Tonight, I am making Lentil soup (better have a back up plan for the husband and children).  I've got a bit of headache now, which is why I decided to have the orange, and I am really thirsty, so I'm drinking seltzer right now.

I plan to stay busy, busy, busy today - I certainly have enough to do.  This morning I had a planning meeting regarding Girl Scouts for next year.  After that, I stopped by the Eucharistic Adoration chapel, looking for a few minutes of peace before the Blessed Sacrament.  I was shocked that there were so many people in the chapel, until I remembered that 9:30 am mass was getting ready to start.  I stayed for mass, and I am really glad that I did.

I'd stopped in the chapel to get some fortification for the day ahead and, once again, God didn't disappoint - today's mass reading was from the Gospel of John (6, 30-35).  In this Gospel, we see the crowd asking Jesus for a sign so that they might believe in him.  They recall the sign of the manna in the desert, and Jesus tells them that it was not Moses who gave the Israelites manna, but God the Father.  He then tells them his Father gives the true bread from heaven, the bread that comes down and gives life to the world.  Of course, they want some of this bread (who wouldn't?).  He then tells them, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst."  Isn't that an incredibly appropriate mass reading for a fasting day?

Charged with Grandeur

Last night, at School of Community, I (badly) tried to articulate my thoughts on finding God in the everyday.  Gerard Manley Hopkins described it.  James Joyce (purportedly an atheist, and certainly a modernist icon) developed a whole theory of epiphany to describe it (even though, IMHO, he "knew more than he could say" as one of my college professors said of me in his grading of my Junior Poet oral presentation).

Today, I found this little gem.  God in the every day.  Amen.

My Morning in U2 Songs

So, what do I mean by a morning in U2 songs?  As I'm sure is well-known, I'm a bit obsessed with U2.  I joke that I've been in a relationship with Bono for longer than I've known my husband or any of my friends. So, when Bono speaks, I listen, LOL.  For my birthday this year, I REALLY broke character and bought myself a subscription to www.U2.com (something I'd been resisting for  years).  It gives me access to all kinds of cool content, and also got me a wonderful cd and book from the last tour.  I've been listening to the cd in the car -- the chickadees love it too (#1 prefers "Get on Your Boots" because it opens with the "Ode to Joy" and #2 loves "Electrical Storm" because it's very romantic and she can sing it well.  (It reminds me of John Donne's "The Sun Rising".)  Anyway, while in traffic getting the chickadees to school, I heard an appropriate song.

Later, as I was daydreaming as I was driving, I wondered whether I'd sing the English or Italian part on America's Got Talent (My dream is to sing the Italian Part, but I just can't do it).  These lyrics are beautiful in either language:

Dici che il fiume/Trova la via al mare 
E come il fiume/Giungerai a me 
Oltre i confini/E le terre assetate 
Dici che come fiume/Come fiume 
L'amore giunger/
L'amore 
E non so pi pregare/E nell'amore non so pi sperare/E quell'amore non so pi aspettare 

You say that the river/Finds the way to the sea 
And as the river/You'll come to me 
Beyond the borders/And the thirsty lands 
You say that as the river/as the river/
Love will come 
Love 
And I cannot pray anymore/And I cannot hope in love anymore/And I cannot wait for love anymore 

While driving to Lowe's to pick up some paint and a few other things, I starting thinking about Susan and really missing her.  I was lost in thought, not really listening to the cd (From the Ground Up, a special live cd "curated" by The Edge).   Suddenly, I heard these lyrics:

A man dreams one day to fly
A man takes a rocket ship into the skies
He lives on a star that's dying in the night
And follows in the trail, the scatter of light

spoken by Frank DeWinne, commander of the International Space Station, FROM THE INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION:  I get it, Susan.  I get it.

While thinking about this whole body-hatred issue I have, especially the refrain.

While thinking about how good God is to me in trying to get my attention in ways that increase the likelihood I'll hear him.

When thinking of Brendan Kennelly, one of my professors at Trinity.  I especially love the last few lines of this.

Hope you've enjoyed this view into my stream-of-consciousness and slight (ahem) obsessiveness.

First Fasting Day Reflections

I learned a lot on my first day of fasting:

• Don't go grocery shopping on your fast day.
• Eating a protein-rich breakfast carries me through til about 1 pm. 
• A lot of my eating is situational, not in response to hunger.  On a normal grocery shopping day, for example, I would not have eaten breakfast with the children and would have stopped at the sweet little cafe in the store, had a coffee and a pastry or a breakfast sandwich and looked at magazines and made my shopping list.  If I had later stopped at IKEA, as I did today, I probably would have gotten a coffee and cinnamon roll as a little "treat" to reward myself for traipsing through two long floors of IKEA to see one wardrobe and pick up a duvet cover. 
• 12:45 pm -- Right now I've stopped moving around and am doing work at the computer.  I'm distracted because I am hungry (so am writing to make sure that I stay on track).  I've had seltzer and broth.  I haven't had anything to eat since 7:30.  My stomach is empty (not rumbling, just nauseated, which is my response to hunger) and I am working on a headache.  But I believe that this feeling will pass.  I am not going to open the fridge, but I am going to say the Chaplet of Divine Mercy and continue to do my work. 
• It's 1:14 -- I've been feeling nauseated and headachy for about 30 minutes -- wonder how long til it passes?
• It's 1:52 -- The acute nausea passed at about 1:30.  I've just gotten out of the shower, where I repaired to see whether a quick dousing would perk me up a bit (it did).  Now back to work.  I still have a headache between my eyes, but it's not too bad.
• 2:30 pm. -- Now I'm starting to get nauseated again and my headache is getting worse.  Time for a cup of tea.
• 2:45 p.m.  I'm almost done with my report.  It's been a slog.  Now I have to leave to pick the chickadees up from school. 
• 4:07 pm.  Headache.  Hungry.  3.5 hours to go.  More tea.
• 4:38 pm.  If you can believe it, I just got back from driving Chickadee #1 to dance class.  The place she takes it is about 1.5 miles away from home.  I left at 4:09, got there at about 4:20, and got back here at 4:39.  I really hate the DC area sometimes (well, honestly, every time I drive).  Traffic jams are much harder to take when you are hungry, by the way.  Did I mention that I could eat?  LOL.
• 6:30 pm.  I had a difficult time making dinner. The chickadees got Tyson Dinosaur Chicken nuggets and sea salt french fries with broccoli and applesauce. The fries burned a little and I actually ate one or two of them, I was that hungry. Next time, I'm going to try sucking on a peppermint or an ice cube while preparing dinner or chewing gum.
• 7:42 pm.  Ahhh.  Dinner is over.  We started eating at 7 rather than 7:30, but all-in-all, I think I was pretty successful today.  I still have a headache though.  I made the chicken and asparagus stir fry that I mentioned yesterday.  It was a bit salty -- I didn't have either low-sodium soy sauce or chicken broth.  I'd definitely suggest using low-sodium versions of those.  I had a clementine for dessert.

I'm pretty pleased with myself today.  I'll leave you with a quote from the Psalms:

If I were hungry, I would not tell you; for the world is mine and all its fullness.  Will I eat the flesh of bulls or drink the blood of goats?  Offer to God thanksgiving, and pay your vows to the Most High.  Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you and you shall glorify me.  (Psalm 50, 12-15)