Archives for April 2012

It all Started with a Trip to the Chinese Buffett

On this beautiful Monday morning, I am confident the weather will be glorious and I can smell the coffee percolating in the kitchen. I am reflecting on a wonderful weekend full of rest, relaxation, productivity, family time, and a long run that truly enjoyed. The house is relatively clean and the laundry is not exploding into the hallway. Life is a beautiful thing.


On this Monday morning from hell, I roll out of bed and realize I am already 30 minutes behind schedule (probably because I set unrealistic goals to begin with). I forgot to put the coffee on last night and now have to wait until it brews. There are dishes in the sink and dirty clothes on the bathroom floor. And I have gained 7 pounds over the weekend! This is just like a Monday and I should just go back to bed.

Woo hoo y’all! Look at me! My Sybil is showing! I am, in fact, currently experiencing both mornings at the same time. Perception is a doll baby, ain’t she?

In all honesty, I believe most of us have these types of moments far more often than we think. Unfortunately, I often think that it is some weird psycho-warped chick thing and just ignore it. At it’s worse, in order to ignore it, I take the path of least resistance (yep, that’s the second one). The problem with that action is this – while it is way easier and takes far less energy to get pissed off and depressed, it consumes far more energy over time than maintaining a positive perceptive. In other words, you may jump off the line quicker, but you likely won’t finish well.

You have probably noticed that none of this has anything to do with a Chinese buffet. Well…that’s because it doesn’t. I usually write real-time and have no idea where I am going until I get there and…this is quickly becoming yet another post, so I will get back to the Chinese buffet and hopeful remember to come back and elaborate on this other topic later – or not, pretty sure the world won’t end either way…well, not because of that.

As many of you know, I have recently began to look at my health in a new and proactive way. I took up running and I got fit. I went back to the weights and I got strong. I changed the way I ate and I got slim. I went to the Chinese buffet on Friday and I felt guilty.

Yep, guilty. I almost never eat red meat, pork, or fowl. I am whole foods mostly (while not necessarily raw). I juice. I hydrate. I seriously limit processed foods and carbonated beverages. I exercise maybe 4 or 5 times a week – and I am talking ugly faced, sweat making, not going to be cute running into the grocery store afterwards exercise.

Then the husband took me to lunch, on a weekday, with no children…I love those. And I enjoyed it and the Chinese buffet. Then I spent all day Saturday with the three youngest children. We did yoga in the park. Morgan “dreams of Waffle House.” The others would be good and keep their rooms clean forever if I would just get them fro-yo. We did both. My mother invited us for dinner. And it was wonderful (and I am not just talking about the food). Sunday was gorgeous and Mark was dying to grill. We had chicken and fresh corn on the cob. I said I almost never eat chicken. And who grills without a beer?

What part of that doesn’t sound wonderful? The 7 pounds part. And if I am honest with myself, the average weight fluctuates a pretty good bit depending on water retention, time of the day, etc. And if I am really honest with myself, I pay too much attention to that damn scale anyway!

The moral of story is ~

Yes, I cannot eat 25 pounds of food at a Chinese buffet everyday. I cannot have both Lovin’ Spoons and 32 Degrees in the same weekend, every weekend and call it a “consumer comparison.” Waffle House is a treat, not a staple.

No, there is nothing to feel guilty about. Being hard on ourselves for things that are relatively insignificant is worse for our health that the actual thing. Being good to our bodies includes the occasional indulgence. But the whole purpose of an indulgence is to enjoy it! A jacked up perception sabotages that. And I am not interested in self sabotage.

It is a glorious Monday 🙂

Getting Back in the Saddle – with a Big Dose of Real

There are times when I worry that I am not really a writer. Times like this, when I know that I should put words on paper and just can’t.

When I started this Lenten season, I decided that I was going to put some things down that distract. Facebook was an obvious choice. Turn Around Tuesday was a little less obvious. But both of those things have had me interacting with people on a regular basis in ways that I am not sure are authentically me. At times it seems that they are more reactionary and not so much creative.

So now that there isn’t so much reactionary writing, very little in the way of creative, spontaneous, or original words seem to come to mind. I worry that I am not really a writer.

I’m sure I need to commit to putting something on paper every day regardless of what it is. I’m worried that won’t work. So the fear of failure results in a procrastination of the effort.

I also think that some prompts might help. I’m also afraid that will fail. I also think that defeats the purpose. I also think that if I were truly a writer I would need it. I also think I’m just an idiot and should take help where I can get it.

I have a brain that feels like an incorrectly wound ball of yarn. The material is good. The possibility for craft is there. But it’s just such a mess. It makes it hard to see the creation in the middle of the chaos.

I worry that I am not a writer. Thinking about that statement as I look at it on the paper I think that may not be true. I’m fairly certain that I am a writer. I think what I’m worried about is who is the reader. And isn’t that some narcissistic bullshit. But truthfully, who doesn’t hone their craft, create, and work hard to put forth a bit of their authentic self with at least a little hope that somebody out there will affirm and appreciate? Don’t we all do that? And is that really so wrong?

No. I don’t think that the desire for appreciation and recognition is wrong. But I think that the fear of looking for that and not finding it has prevented me from creating at all. And that is terribly wrong.

I am a writer. I am a creator. But as long as I remain fearful, I will remain tangled.