1302 Days Sober

 Quietly, I often hear from friends in the DM's, 'I'm stopping.' 'I'm quitting.' 'I'm done.'  I know instantly they've seen my story/ies and they have decided it's Day 1. Maybe yesterday, maybe last week. Maybe they will have to start over, or maybe they've pushed through to several months. 

It's the holiday season and open bars are everywhere.   Recipes for sparkling drinks are EVERYWHERE , and the stress level is at a fever pitch.        

For me, today is 1302 days. Out of the blue, I needed to know. I saw a friend post 10 years, and considered what that must feel like. Probably alot like 3.5 years.  Stressful, easy, happy, sad. But that magic concoction that helped me , once upon a time, is no longer any part of the equation of peace. 

The 10 Day Alchohol Detox Plan (book) was one of my guides. I had some things in place, but basically I had just had enough. When it matters more to reclaim your life, you'll do whatever it takes. And I did. I did what it took for me. The first days are HARD. How many days are the 'first days'... well, there's a 10, 31, 66, plans. But it all starts with a decision, that no matter how many times you pour it out, you pour it out. It's no longer wasted money, it's ownership. Owning your mess, your chaos, your time, your life. Mindset is everything. Notice I didn't say willpower. 10 Day Detox (book) helped me, among many things, learn to breathe through the craving, both physical & mental, and deal with what was driving the desire to throw away the rest of the day and continue my current state of chaos. 

I don't have a call to action or advice. I'm just celebrating that day 1302 feels good. Today.  Quietly on a rainy Thursday in November. 

 

Calendars, Confidence and Christ ~ November 2021

 I had to look back, but it's been 3 years since I began seriously caring for myself and my health. It 's been 3 years since I began the journey out of the black hole I had fallen into.  It's been 5 years since grief over losing Dad stirred embers that were seething, and my struggle against a better way was in full swing. What I remember of the 2 years in between, mostly, I want to forget.

Inside cover of my first ‘It Starts With Food,’ and my old-school purse calendar. 

Fast forward: It has been 200 days since I drank any alcohol or  hfc sodas/cokes. 211 to be exact, but that's what a habit built upon a #doitscared decision for long term success looks like at 211 days. You blow right past it, because the memory of success is serving you so well. 

November 2018 was the first time I  #quit and #started. I had decided I would do a 'whole 30' and that involves no alcohol, no sweets, and NO cheating. When you cheat, you start over. For real. I did it though. I marked it down. And when I don't think I can go one step further, I have that memory of success to look back on.  For real. That's how confidence works. 

Confidence is the memory of success. 

2019 I joined Athens Fit Body Boot Camp. Yup. Again. I marked it down. I knew I could do anything for 30 minutes, 3 times a week. For Real. Instead of being self-conscious, I became self-confident.  I began to trust myself to make good choices. 

Don't think for a second there were and are not still challenges. Not just this year, with hubs getting ill,  but all along the way, there have been obstacles.  That first day back in 2018, the day after Thanksgiving, that day I decided to bite the bullet and buy my YL starter kit- that day I committed to fixing my train-wreck body. The least suspecting obstacle almost beat me. It was the water bottle I'd put in the refrigerator,  prepping for my exercise and good habits. It was a Tervis Tumbler with the oddest sharp edge on the cap. Starting out with  such good intentions- It fell from the fridge and clipped my toe just right. Day one I was bleeding all over the kitchen and sobbing. What were my thoughts? 'Woe is me, look how hard I'm trying and look what happens to me! See what happens when you try to do good!?! And look at those boys-- those good for nuthin boys barely even blinked. Including my hubs!! I'm trying so hard... whah... 

Mel Robbins would say--

 'Nobody's coming for you.' 

 'Nobody's coming for you.' And she's right. This isn't a declaration about the absence of God, not hardly. It is a clear declaration that  *No one* can do what you must do for yourself.  No one can stop self pity, self absorption, selfishness.  Oh, good company can support good habits, but friend, you've got to own your own mess. It doesn't matter how nice your family is, your friends are, the community you live in, the cyber chats you contribute to--Nope. That's all on you- It's all on me. 

But is it? That is where I must interject what is often left behind. Right after the 5,4,3,2 1 , podcast, Marco Polo, Facetime, Habit tracker check-off- I have likely forgotten The One to Whom all these great guides and good company point. Christ. The Firstborn of all creation, Ruler over all principalities, Redeemer of all lost causes- including me. If I am a part of the church, the Bride of Christ, then my first thought should be to Him and what He would have me think about things, including trusting in Him to redeem what I cannot. Will He give me more than I can handle? Yes, and He anticipates and is ready to hear my prayer, my request to gain His perspective and His direction for my life. Does He always lift the burden? No. Does He love us? Yes, He's proven that over and over, in His patience and kindness. He's not marking an earthly timetable or spreadsheet. That's for us mere mortals. He needs no such thing, for

 His grace and mercy are immeasurable,

 His love is endless, and his plan for our souls is eternal. 

Will I continue to stack good habits? Yes, indeed. Will I fail- you know it's true. But that is where my Redeemer has my back. And over all the things that I could do, where He spreads his arm and covers us in safety, If we choose that shelter.  That is where I put my hope. 

My hope is not in this world, 

but in the One who made it.

 The good news - I tend to forget- is in the 'letting go.' I can only work within God's plans. I can't force them. I can't control them. I fool myself and mess about when I believe I'm in control of anything but my attitude. My actions can follow if opportunity is there- but my heart is what He's after. I may ask and ask for favor, but If I've asked God to do it, to open that door or make that  path, I best take my hand off the door knob and trust He will make the way clear. 

There's alot of 'doing' in the Bible, stories of folks taking action. Maybe it's dipping in a pool of water for healing, maybe it's taking up stones against a giant, perhaps the ultimate challenge of #doitscared.  Our stories right along with those of ancient times can and do point to confidence enough to take action. We share in that story,  in the ultimate Story of success. For now, I'm going to keep on marking the days, checking the boxes, to keep me going in a direction that best honors God. But most importantly-  I will go confidently in the knowledge that I serve in those actions, the God Who Sees and Knows all things. He is in the twilight of emotions between the successes of my day and the perceived failure of my plans. I hold up my calendar with missed days and plans gone off the rails. He gathers me up and comforts me, serves me what I need-be it admonition or another obstacle-, even in the presence of my enemies. He is a loving Father, who gave his only Son, Christ Redeemer for all. Creator. Sustainer. Redeemer. 

Growth Mindset and The Secret Garden ~ June 2021

 Never would I have put these two books together, but I am a late-comer to both the appreciation of The Secret Garden  by Frances Hodgson Burnett and the concept of 'growth mindset.' I'm sure there are books bearing this exact title out there, but for me, Switch on Your Brain ,The Key to Peak Happiness, Thinking, and Health,  by Dr. Caroline Leaf is a most approachable  book incorporating Biblical  references that support the concept of 'growth mindset,' and how our body and brain work together.

It occurred to me the approach we take to our circumstances makes all the difference - whether we see things negatively or choose to see the options and opportunity. Usually these are a part of change, something unfamiliar and from the chorus of voices in your head  you'll hear someone either  say, 'It'll never work,' OR 'DO IT SCARED.' 

You'll hear someone either  say,

 'It'll never work,' OR 'DO IT SCARED.' 

 I love how a book  that's been in your view for a few months will pipe up and talk to you, as if it's saying, 'Do you remember how cheerful Dickon was? Do you remember how ill Colin was? Do you remember how excited Mary was to run free with Dickon, while Colin was trapped inside with the curtains drawn closed?' 

Well, I ran across that passage- Mary is a determined child, not willing to live indoors when there is a wild secret garden to be explored. Dickon, who is now a voice in her head, lives free and emboldened by his happy upbringing. At one point Mary thinks this clearly, that she wishes to go to Dickon, while she doesn't wish to visit Colin. Colin's mindset is darkened by his physical plight that has been exacerbated by his father's grief. Dickon and Mary literally must convince him to take his health into his own hands, and with it follows a new mindset of joy. 

'I wonder if it would not do him good to go out into a garden and watch things growing. It did me good.' 

Science about the  brain demonstrates how when we take our thoughts captive, we can guide our thoughts, retrain the brain. It  can be hard to step up out of the well worn path that we've stayed in so long, but that's where the habit training comes in handy. Developing habits that support a healthy lifestyle- mentally, physically, and spiritually- has  been proven to give the boost needed to make significant desired changes. 

I've got to finish The Secret Garden  to find out what happens to Colin. He has been confined to his room and bed because of a bad back and associated illnesses. I think I remember accurately what happens to Colin, and that he makes a wonder-filled transformation. But, I'm keenly aware that  every story doesn't have a 'happy ending.' Every wounding relationship is not healed, every loss is not reconciled just because we develop a good exercise regime or eat more veggies. That's why habits must include our mental, physical and spiritual health. If I believe ( and I do) that my body and soul belong to the Creator and are intended for His glory, then it is up to me to explore trending terms like growth mindset and  positive habits if it can push me to crowd out old ways of thinking and old habits that do not serve healthy living. 

This is important  to remember tho- No one can make you do this . This is a job for each person to decide for themselves. And the longer we feed the unhealthy thought or action that make up our  habits, the longer it will take to effectively 'crowd out,' or fill with good things. The deeper the rut of travel in the same path, the harder it is to get out of that rut. I'd rather  'Do It Scared,' than listen to the doubter.  Every day is a new day, a gift. Set backs when I falter, are just a set-up for a come-back. Time for me to get moving. 

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.... no time like the present. 

Who Taught You to Be a Boy-Mom? April 2021

When life was passing out kids, I never saw boys in my future. I never had any idea what that future would look like beyond baby -hood. Naive. Oh, I'd  read every book, I'd even taught boys, exclusively, at all boys schools. But somehow I made it out of those experiences with NO CLUE.  The intensity and apathy, the fierce nature and the emotional capacity of a boy. The maleness of the persons in my house. 

My Dad was exceptional in many ways, but most will remember that his vast (seriously vast) wisdom came from the miles he' d spent reading. Reading every book, all the books, and then some more books. He had a favorite home-town sports team, yet the major sporting events on television were usually eclipsed by the PBS adaptation of a popular classic book. Quiet. Calm, even in adversity, stillness and patience are my memories of Dad's parenting style. 

Enter Drake. Drake's objective was to break my mom's will by 10:00 in the morning. He dressed like Daniel Boone expecting even his teachers to call him 'Daniel' in the classroom. I was every character who enhanced Daniel's profile when we played in our backyard on Buckeye Road. It was my playhouse Dad had built that was sabotaged with B'Lou's fireworks and then rescued by Daniel. 

We watched him jump like Evil Kinevel in the  '70's and watched him stomp through the grass  down to the creek passing cotton mouth snakes to play 'lookout' or just dig in the bank.  While I set up house in the abandoned chicken coop, Drake was creating adventures fortified with every conceivable challenge available in our wildish places. 

Sara Owen's Bridal Luncheon, Memphis, TN 2021
Daughters on Back row, 'Steele Magnolia's' on Front -Just missing Gwen

Last week, I sat at a table of celebration  with other 'boymoms' - those who face the brave frontier of parenting in the post-modern world. The measures of safety and fearful things out there are only complicated by our unique children. I mention these ladies because they all knew Drake and I when we were young, when we were those wild kids, when they were those wild kids. We are all facing the new world, this challenging often times, soul-less time in parenting. There was alot of  'sharing' that usually happens in later hours of the night, but we knew our time was short. We told of successes, we told of sorrows, we told of things we never dreamed we'd be offering our kids as bribes, and that we'd actually tried to bribe them to do and be what we wanted or hoped. Some were holding back. The story is still too hard to tell- yet. 

But, we gazed sideways and looked at our mother's, - the YaYa's, the 'Deaconess's,' -the 'Steele Magnolia's' of our lives, and savored a moment that may never come again. We were reminded of the mothers who taught us to dig in, hunker down, and be the best parent you could be through un-numbered and often unimaginable circumstances. It was my mom who sewed the stripes on Evil's pants when he made those death defying jumps, and it was my mom who sewed a real squirrels tail on the back of Daniel's coon skin hat. It was my mom who prayed as he ventured away towards the cotton mouth covered creek and didn't beg him to stay close to home. 

Leaving Sacramento  Photo taken in Neal and Nancy Sullivan's home

Drake was not a 'prodigal,' but the lessons found in that story from Scripture are, at times, a part of any parents arsenal.  Once not too long ago, I googled,  how to love a prodigal son. The first thing to come up was from 'Focus on the Family,' a Biblically based organization, that I would consider for sound, solid advice. The first answer -- 'let him go.' 

'let him go'

There comes a point in parenting where the roots must do the work of tethering to the early guidance given. The guidance we may give after that point will only be a roaring in their ears, repelling them away. 

So what can I do? What should I do? One foundational thing is shoring up my own life, and catching up on my personal growth and maintenance that's fallen by the wayside. 

Secondly, be available when the kids show back up- be available to talk, be confident in who I am, WHOSE I am. There's a part of both the  prodigal and the older brother in all children, in every person. That 'letting them go' doesn't mean they don't come back, or that they don't watch the other leave.  Strength in the Eternal Power that sustains our faith when they are little, will feed the next season of parenting, and in an altogether stronger way. For we'll be looking back to the roots and wings that sustained us too. I'm so thankful when I look back, I see the  Steel Magnolia's - 'The Sisters.' Between them, they've raised Real Estate Leaders, Corporate Leaders, Photographers, Airplane Pilots, Obstetricians, Teachers,  Research Scientists, Architects, Dentists, Chefs,  Bronze Star Recipients, Track Coaches, Historians, Entrepreneurs, Mothers and Fathers, both- parents of every type of child, with every type of struggle or interest.  Their collective history is beautifully intertwined  elements of sorrow and success, but they've always, always been there for each other, and on their own, persevered in ways beyond comprehension. Like the other daughters, I've been watching and remembering, my mother didn't bow to every changing wind, but moved to meet the challenges of family, confidence in the Lord, and relying on her friends and community to be strong enough for that day's challenges. 

Thirdly-- Today is Dad's birthday. While we would celebrate him, he would turn the camera lens to Mom, and say how proud he is of her. Drake and I both knew and continue to know how Dad prioritized his relationship with Mom, and she visa-versa. While their affection for each other was never up for question, they are not super human. They had their share of lack of agreement over many, many things. But their marriage to each other was first in the family. I remember the vows he would request of many a bride and groom during the wedding ceremony he might conduct. There was always a point made that there would come a day when the deceiver would present a stumbling block. But I remember most the idea of laying down one's life, daily, not in a grand gesture, but with each thought for the other. 

 1966, Mom and Drake  in Sierra Nevada's - Dad's taking the Photo

Drake and Mom, Memphis January 2021

It would seem that the best things in life, do not happen over night. There is no magic wand for the 'boy-mom,' or for any childhood. The good, the best things are a slow progression of attention to details, acted out over a lifetime. Occasionally, we see a glimpse into the outcome, celebrating a moment in our collective history,  a triumph. I celebrate the beauty of these friendships, and their gumption. I hope for another birthday lunch for these fun souls, and strength anew each day, while we live out this mortal thing called life. Celebrate, redeem the time, live. Repeat.  

I'll take it. 

Daffodils and Atomic Habits ~ February-April 2020

The daffodils came and went in the blur of February and March. The were stunning though. They are God's surprise when you think you can't take one more bleak day of winter. Their fragrance is incomparable. Their color and diverse shapes so unique. 
In the month of February, I determined to use my kindle more. I've been working through some  habit building non-fiction and found it easier to complete if I used the electronic platform. While there I actually downloaded a copy of British Edition, Country Living, which included a full feature on daffodils. Packed full of loveliness, it is almost as good as having the hardcopy.  A last thought about daffodils: It is a unique effort to have a field of daffodils. They are planted, one by one and must if the best impact is to be achieved, be planted in large groups. Then there is the waiting- waiting for the spring to see them come up and bloom for a short time, before becoming a leggy undesirable spent bloom. But they are worth it. 

Emma Bridgewater Mugs ~My new favorite for Tea & Coffee

Setting Goals this year has been complimented by the observable accomplishments we see in our yard turned garden. Over the years, we have bit by bit carved out spaces with plantings, requiring patience to see the overall outcome. But we are beginning to see the fruits of our labor. Literally. A few years ago, Eric picked a peach from a tree in our neighbors yard, and planted the pit in soil. We didn't think much of it, but it is now in our yard, complimented by another we purchased from the nursery. It's really amazing and this year we may have fruit from that very tree. 

Atomic Habits is an idea as well as a book I borrowed from the library. I committed last year to borrow more books than buy them. This is one that while it is excellent, I needed to reserve the dollars for other things. 

Current situation: It will be May in a day and I'm sorting out where/how I'm going to spend my time, and what I hope to accomplish with these new 'habit' skills. March came in like a lion, only to be followed by a stampede of unfriendly elephants. The 'shelter-at-home' order has been one I never imagined to be such a challenge. Our household dynamics are our own, but I'm sure relatable to everyone. Everyone was and continues to be challenged by their unique circumstances. I allowed grace to be given and felt, to know there are some things I really can't change, but dealing with them and experiencing them must be given the time and attention required.  But  I MUST remember-- these are *just* circumstances. I can choose to take charge of my thoughts or let them rule me and my daily habits. Having completed the academic year (September through April) of 'Life Mentoring School,' with Edie Wadsworth at Life In Grace, I am well armed to move forward in a much more settled and confident way. I would say it has been life changing, like no other class or counseling I've received or participated in. So I wrap up this year, such that is has been. Whatever side-hustle or hobby is completed will be so, and that which has not will be shelved for the for-seeable future. It is time to chart the calendar and accomplish some of the things that were derailed by the virus this spring. Back to eating well, wearing clothes I can button, and exercising so that I can fit into something besides yoga pants! 

Forget-me-nots and Polka-dots ~ December 2019

Watching Miss Universe last night was noteworthy in many ways.  The pagentry of all of the costumes representing their countries and their unique cultures was amazing. Miss Ukraine (Eric's family heritage) was stunning, as was the winner, Miss South Africa. So beautiful, truly breathtaking were each of the women who had made it to the world stage to represent their country. What was even more amazing were the accomplishments of each of these women. Some were lawyers, some were spokespersons for profoundly important charitable organizations. In a moment though, they were quick to remind the watcher they were once thought to be unqualified by their ethnicity and dark skin. Dismissed. 

Miss South Africa mentioned specifically just this, while her grace and glamour inspired watching youth of color around the world. She inspired me, this white middled aged mom of Quaker, English decent. 
I knew my sister-in-law Catherene, would be watching. I found myself rooting for Miss Phillippines, knowing 'Cat' would be cheering too. On Thanksgiving, we all went to Jeff and Cat's house and savored her homemade Lo-mein and Spring Rolls, filled with pork and chicken. We had all the customary 'traditional' foods too, but the first to go is always the spring rolls. They were especially tasty as her mother, Conchita, visiting from the Phillipines, prepared them.  Every year brings change, including my nephew  Angelo, reminding me how important it is not to get stuck in the past, but to move forward, with bravery-- if required. We must accept change, and seek beauty where ever it shows up. We must train our eyes to see beauty and opportunity and life!  Our minds will look for safety and familiarity, *even if that familiarity is ladened with grief*, but think of what we'll miss, if we stick to our ruts and never venture out. If there is anything Cat has taught me, it is this-- to venture out. I can't imagine what we all would have missed if she hadn't. 

Jeff and Cat were married very soon after Dad passed from this life.  It would seem, that year, I was starting all over, hanging on more tightly to familiar things, thoughts, moments. Fearful.  Grief does that. I clung to broken ways, fearful methods. Time heals though. I now hear him  (Dad's voice in my mind) cheering every new goal met, every challenge embraced, and most importantly(haha), I hear him asking if there is any left-over Lo-mein. (The man loved tasty foods.) The laughter may rattle the sorrow out of its rut, but its so easy to teeter back into the cavern. 

In June of 2019, I listened to this TED Talk, as about 51 million others did.  

"We don't move on, we move forward."

For a special family occasion, I wrapped presents in polka dot paper, and Cat was so pleased, for in the Phillipines, polka-dots represent joy and happiness. I am reminded again how choosing to see joy in little places is really *our choice.* Attitude is everything, Being gracious to ourselves in our moments of challenge and weakness is vital, but being our own coach to train our thoughts to see beauty is essential. Holding our 'forget-me-nots' while moving forward is the key. 
*I add this today, in honor of Cat's father who just passed this week. There is a time to mourn. Mourning is a part of life. I pray that you feel God's comfort and heal with good memories. 

Community, Working-Out ~ November 2019

     Of all the things I never imagined would come from working out came community. I look for the brave faces who dress for comfort over style and bravely bare their (our) less than perfect bodies.  A handful of friends I've known have been in my classes, surprising me with their strength and stealth at the same time. One friend, I knew worked out, literally dumbfounded me with her agility and core strength. Her plank was a thing of beauty. For all my attempts, I still looked like I was barely trying. But that's the thing about real community: folks will meet you where you are and know you are trying just by showing up. You've already made yourself vulnerable. When you face-plant like I did one day, you're cheered on by getting up and back to it. When you concentrate your effort on isolating the muscle for the intended stretch, you're on the platform at the Olympics. At the right gym, folks know you're not trying to make the swimsuit calendar-- they know already you are in training-- you know your 'why.'  Obstacles are everywhere and you've got to strengthen for the long-game. With every weight successfully lifted, with every fly masterfully engaged, the body preps for when the mind wants to falter. It really does work, if you work it. Nana 'V' always said, 'Use it or you lose it.' She walked our creek side road in Franklin, often leaving us in the dust with her speed. Right up to the end, she flexed her arthritis ridden fingers, in numeric rhythm. Use it, or lose it. Or as Red says, 'Get busy livin' or get busy dyin.'
     The hardest thing about changing old patterns is realigning deeply rutted traditions. Those that center around fellowship and family. Meals, dinner, Sunday lunch, evening gatherings. I found #Whole30 to be a hugely successful approach for me a year ago, but I'm to the stage now where I need to move forward with planning and recipes, meal prepping and focus. Interpret this to say, I'm slipping because my taste buds are bored and my time is limited even more. Stress levels are high and food and drink are my buffers. The holidays are here and I've fallen back into foods like a stunt man falling off a building. 
     So I've pulled out a couple of favorites, including Whole 30 Fast and Easy. To double down and not miss the moment of transition out of my 10 week Fit Body Challenge, I plan to start meal planning more effectively. I've only done what feels like 'level 1' of eating healthy. The staples and basic and sometimes obvious things. But my taste buds are burnt out.  21 days is what folks say it takes to start a habit. Sustainability requires a plan. 
     Community is essential.  Having a common goal or activitiy creates the opportunity to be with people. With the holidays here, a handful of invitations have come my way. They are a blessing, but the everyday community is what sustains us. Yesterday, I was reminded of a book I see everywhere but have never read. I have already been encouraged to improve my 'Turquoise Table,' prep the coffee and be in community. The Turquoise Table: Finding Community and Connection in Your Own Front Yard by Kristin Schell has offered up numerous simple ideas for engaging and noticing those around us and being present. 

     Another I found that appealed to the need for schedule was Return to Sunday Dinner: The Simple Delight of Family, Food, Friends, and Food by Russell Cronkhite. Predictability and consistency are calming in our chaotic world. This book has far more to offer than recipes. It's mere presence on my shelf  reminds me the importance of what I grew up knowing about Sunday dinner.  (But it doesn't have to be Sunday. Ann Moses made legendary pizza every Friday night for years. Years.) Many of the recipes are not quite #whole30 compliant, but that's not the focus. Finding the compromise and creating the beauty around what comes from making the effort is the goal. 

      Thanksgiving is tomorrow. So many things for which to give thanks. Here's to being a good steward of the abundance of God's good grace. God be honored in all things. HE is Worthy. 

The Obstacle is the Way -->Discipline of Action ~ November 2019

It is no secret I love new construction, so on the way back from dropping Eric at work, I took a few pictures of these particular houses.  But more importantly the obstacle the contractors faced.

I don't know the diameter of the stump remaining, but I can imagine this  tree was spectacular in its height and dimension. Ironically, I've traveled this road in downtown Athens many times. But I can't remember the tree, or even the timeworn house or houses that were likely torn down. But in their place are two very tidy attractive homes. I can hear the builders talking about this tree, the headache of it's removal will cause. The possible protests from naturalists that abound. But for better or for worse, he moved forward anyway, made the necessary calls, and planned the demolition and the tree's removal. 

From The Obstacle is the Way, by Ryan Holiday

 "But in our lives, when our worst instincts are in control, we dally. We don't act like Demosthenes, we act frail and are powerless to make ourselves better. We may be able to articulate a problem, even potential solutions, but then weeks, months, or sometimes years later, the problem is still there. Or it's gotten worse. As though we expect someone else to handle it, as though we honestly believe that there is a chance of obstacles unobstacle-ing themselves. 

We've all done it. Said: "I am so [overwhelmed, tired, stressed, busy, blocked, outmatched]."

And then what do we do about it? Go out and party. Or treat ourselves. Or sleep in. Or wait. 

It feels better to ignore or pretned. But you know deep down that that isn't going to truly make it any better. 

You've got to act. And you've got to start now." 

Standing at Poplar and Mulberry ~ Athens, GA

"How are all those resolutions you made going?" November 2019

Well into the fourth quarter of 2019, I've been asked about my book purchases, my diet and my exercise. While there were a few other commitments that I quietly added in January, those are the top three. I am reminded about my self challenge, 

"A Year from Now, You'll Wish You'd Started Today." 

So instead of counting regrets, this year I'm counting accomplishments. Instead of stepping into December with panic and dread, I'm getting creative with my shop and adding students to the schedule. 

Instead of eating the whole box of cookies and camping on the sofa indoors, I'm adjusting my thinking to an intentional way of living. 

Intentional living allows for the slip-up, but not living in denial. 

So, what worked? 

I began to move. Literally. I started walking regularly at least 2 miles at a time, and at all times of the day. Weather is only a circumstance, and if perceived negatively, I reminded myself that, 

'The Obstacle is the Way,' 

and,

 'What doesn't kill ya, makes you stronger.' 

I started listening to different voices. A mantra can create deep ruts in the mind, so I actively started to listen to life affirming 'voices.' Podcasts, friends, family who 'got' me and 'support' my effort to succeed and live life fully. While the negative voices don't always go away-including our own negative thoughts, and when we proactively choose to listen to fulfilling life affirming conversation, we are less likely to buy into destructive lies we might have once told ourselves. 

A year ago, I actively reunited myself to Edie Wadsworth at Life In Grace. I was watching her Facebook live videos in December. These became the fundamentals to her Life Mentoring School. I started taking these classes in September 2019, and couldn't be more thankful. 

My friend Sondra has successfully participated in Athens Fit Body Boot Camp for a year, and with her genuine giving spirit, she has helped and encouraged me through a 10 Week Challenge. 

Yup ~10 Weeks.

 I found muscles I forgot I had. The physicality of the class combined with the amazing guidance and encouragement to do HARD things set me up for another facet of change. I actually WANTED to go to the gym. My body feels better and my dependence on stress buffering agents has decreased. Clearer thinking and confidence were the bi-products I needed and achieved. 

I became accountable to myself. Instead of looking for loopholes, I began look the path of resistance square in the eye. This sounds counter intuitive, but it is usually where the problem is, and once the problem is conquered (or accepted by looking at it instead of avoiding it), the path is clear to do hard things. Once you do the hard things, life seems to open up to allow what is deeply fulfilling. 

Books. Well, I haven't stopped buying, but my number is well under that of years past and almost exclusively, I buy from the FOL (Friends of the Library) book room. This year, I didn't even go to the BIG sale. I know..... did you just feel a gust of spooky wind roll through?? Instead, I've been utilizing a library app on my phone to access books more effectively. I actually used this for teaching this fall, which was one of my 'loopholes' (excuses for retail therapy) I've abused this greatly in the past. 

One must find the balance between reading about life and learning about life AND ACTUALLY LIVING IT. 

Which brings me to a favorite book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, A Year of Food Life, by Barbara Kingsolver. I  couldn't have enjoyed this book more. It reminds me of my most recent foodie book, Whole30. The only way to go through a life change is to embrace it head on and with humor. The constructive discussion about how to achieve a goal spreads graciously over like foliage into all areas of life. It's a beautiful insight into one author's world, and enlightens us into the authenticity of her work, Prodigal Summer. 

So what take-away did I share with a local-bestie today? 

"Do It Scared." 

Once confidence and wisdom are on the mend it's important to try. State things in the affirmative. Move forward. 

Full Circle ~ September 2019

Today's challenge Athens Fit Body Boot Camp is 'Accountability.' Oh my. #week3FBBC 

When we set goals and we put our feet on the path to their end, 

we must look back momentarily,

 to see that note on a cryptic notepad, and cross off that task. 

Yes. I. Did. I put my hand to the task of strengthening my body, so that I could experience a 'meta' version of strengthening the soul and body. I'm not a 'gym-girl.' -- but,  

sometimes we must put down our known identify in favor of stepping into the unknown

 and 

embracing the possibilities of 

'what if?' 

Bottom Row, 2nd From Left

Rabbit Trails-Round-up ~ April 2019 #NotAFool

  One of the things I've learned and embraced this year, and about which my good friend, Leslie, has faithfully reminded me: 

Without a plan,

 good intentions are just wishes. 

I accept my limitations dictated by responsibilities, but nothing we want to actually happen or change will unless we are disciplined. This means being disciplined when we'd rather eat the donut, rather skip the exercise, skip the next chapter, plan to 'stay up late and get caught up,' or the classic-- leave the laundry on the steps knowing someone else will take it up stairs. 

So in honor of April 2019, It's time to turn a corner and get back on the path of resistance because we can do things of value that are hard. Just having a positive attitude and calling fear a liar doesn't drive out the lies. 

April #NotAFool Rabbit-Trail-Round-Up: 

1. I will #readthenextchapter  of After Virtue (chapter 8) to keep in sync with all the other 38 readers on Marco Polo, and give my self grace that it is THE HARDEST BOOK ever written in the modern English language. 

2. In the spirit Jonathon Rogers wrote this post, I will #putonthetennisskirt and call myself a writer. While there are a few posts that you may read here at this blog that demonstrate skill, there are reems of notebooks not published, full of characters and places I wish to improve and share. In fact, I may even join one of his writing classes. I'm wondering if my friend Meredith might find this interesting? (wink;)

3. I will get real about #whole30. Stressors creep up. Life happens. And then the addictive foods take over. While I would love for our kitchen to be completely clean and  healthy, my success doesn't depend on another's dedication or lack thereof. Eric and I now regularly walk *together* and take the opportunity to talk about life. My goal is to join with friends who are putting health up front as a priority. Whole 30 has opened some doors to new ways of thinking and dealing with life. It really does just *start* with food.

I think we can really only grasp three ideas at a time, but I'm finding ways to literally and figuratively put the spill-over on the shelf until time, resources and opportunity are in the works. But I don't want to look back and wonder what would have happened if only... 
What's on your agenda? What are your goals? 
What are your big three for the next three months? 

December 2018 ~ #whole30 #ihike2019 #lifetimemeds #readthebooksihave

Before the Christmas rush was really on, I had already decided some things would change-- this year. Of course, folks have thought I was crazy to start a #whole30 diet in December. Who does some thing like this?? This is the season of indulgence and all good things. But just like the book says, no time like the present. And then there's this constant reminder: 

A Year from Now, 

You'll Wish You Started Today

So I started. I've documented everything. Every. Thing. 

I even had to visit my GP, and was able to brag. I told her I was actually looking forward to seeing her in March to see my bloodwork. 

I don't  (but that's for another post..) know exactly what pushed me, but I know hearing about someone's medical cost for things that could be prevented with early(ier) life changes in diet and lifestyle made a huge impact. 
I just don't want to live like that. I want to live. Fully. In a way that honors God and supports my family, not weighs it down. 
I've been watching Heidi Scovel hike this year, and have decided I'll set a real goal. #ihike2019 is the code for my present count of 0/52. Why should I wait for a doctor to prescribe what we already know? 
I talk to my BFF almost everyday and for some years she's been talking about Whole 30. She recommended reading 
'It Starts with Food,'  
I read it. And jumped in. All the way.
 I've been successful, with my weaknesses right at the forefront of my plan. No compromises. It's been almost perfect. And I can say, I'll keep up most of it after I'm done. I've never felt better in my life. I don't want to go back. I have 48.5 more years to go to get to 100, and after reading this article today, I think I can make it. Why shouldn't I? The gardening I plan to do to support this diet should surely work! Not to mention fresh eggs! 

One of my 5 chickens as of December 2018.

 Gardens including an asparagus bed ready for winter. 

My chicken's egg on the left. Store bought on the right. 

Over the last year, (and continuing into the next,) I have been reading many books in preparation for teaching Advanced American History IEW Writing in the fall 2019. And I believe I have all I need for that endeavor, so I made another decision. 
This year: I will buy no new books. None. (This is where to lay bets folks.)
I will #readthebooksihave 
I gathered up some reeeally good ones in the last year. One in particular is a great place to start for the upcoming new year. 

Shannan Martin holds nothing back. Should any of us, when it comes to loving our fellow man? loving God? 

2019 will be an interesting year for sure. I will certainly begin counting my #lifetimemeds again, and enjoying hobbies that feed my soul. 

What are your goals for 2019? 

Remember~A year from now, you'll wish you started today! 

November 2018 ~ #Project50 and Being a Boy Mom

On Monday the week of Thanksgiving, we planned to go to Six Flags theme park. Boys were encouraged to find a friend, preferably one that has a reputation of getting along with their sibling. The turn-out could not have been better. It's not an easy gig to plan. I don't pretend to be the master-mind or great-appreciator of Six Flags-that would be my husband, Festivus. But I have embraced the chaos of boys and all  most things my husband plans for us. But this was on me. Festivus was still at the UGA salt-mine, so if it was to be, it was up to me. Load 'em up, move 'em out.
While on the ride, my older 'tech enabled' son quietly announces a shooting has occurred in Chicago, at 'a hospital.' So as not to bombard him in un-cool mom fashion, I think quickly to ascertain which hospital. 'The big one,' he replies and returns inward like a preying mantis after it gobbles its food, but the reverse, to 'the source.' My first thoughts go to what at one time was a reflex response- crime-ridden Chicago, a city I will likely never visit, as I never made it to the Oprah show, nor do relatives live close by. I'll never see the 'Bean' up close. But for a time, about 25 years ago, I tuned in every week, to the 'Windy-City' like numerous other Americans. I watched faithfully, 'ER,' and became like everyone else, either a fan of George Clooney, or the actress Ms.Marguellis, known to me and my kids now as 'The Good Wife.' I watched as single people, like myself at the time, navigated the waters of internships and relationships. I cried when characters fell in love with co-workers, mothers and fathers came to live with their adult children and declined with disease. When the doors flew open with an emergency, I was peaked and waiting to know what would happen. And then I waited until the next week, all the week working with kids-in-care, going to church, and Friday-night-dinnering with friends my age and in my same situation. I had no cell phone, I barely watched the news. I had a camera and took photo film to Eckerd's for their amazing printing booth. I envied the people printing Christmas card family pictures. 
But I had George Clooney. (wink)
All those thoughts happened in about 30 seconds when I was brought back to how this newest information impacted our car ride. Snap-chats didn't stop, dirt-bike videos didn't quit, the tunes from the 'Fish' didn't cease. There was no pause.
I rode the Cyclone yesterday. The ride that replaced the old wooden roller coaster. Being afraid(horrified) of heights, this is no small thing. I have crawled and clung to the ropes of Talullah Gorge, trying to avoid permanent residency on that bridge when I underestimated the impact of the height and succumbed to child-pressure (not peer pressure) to cross. But I digress. I. Can't. Even. The speed, the turns, the drops. G's. That's all I could think. I felt like I'd been in a space ship simulation for a trip to Mars. While I had gained a little street-cred with my gang of ear-budded urban hoodlums, I felt the need to go back and retrieve my face from where it may have landed in Alabama after it flew from my body by sheer wind force. I had just enough time to gather my remaining wits and gumption before I headed to the next contraption of out-of-body experience. I recognized 'The Mind-Bender.' Yes, I could do this. It's reminiscent of 'The Beast,' my childhood-first roller-coaster. At the time, it was the highest and fastest on record and located just at my backdoor in Mason, Ohio. I had a seasons pass. Mom would drop. us. off. (who does this anymore?-- well, now I would, but only with 'the bigs' not 'the littles.') Anyway, just enough time to catch my breath, I ride, I survive, and I disembark. Remember, I am often now mistaken for my children's grandmother, gray hair and all. My present riding partners (the littles) stay seated as the park is low on revelers at this early point in the holiday season. They ask to ride again, the drivers say 'yes!' They go. I almost collapse, almost drop my phone, almost drop the drinks I'm holding. I am thinking it's time to go home.  It's time for a pause.  They go, I pause. But experience to which I've paid greater attention as of late has taught me, this day has only begun. And I'm in. All in. #project50 and all that. But without a word or conscious acknowledgement, they see me pause. (just like everything else they see me do-- or not do.) 
While I can. not. Can. Not. connect entirely with my kids, I *must* stay connected. While we are generations apart, and even more so by the lateness of our entry into parenthood, I must make the effort to tether where I can and bind where I am able our fleeting moments of connectedness. Their mental health depends upon it. I don't say that lightly. Locals know the proximity, but dear friends, I know you all have experienced loss of *that* unspoken nightmare. I believe more than ever, or at least in the history of our young country, there is a sense of being overwhelmed and over-stimulated that gravely impacts our hearts, especially the young. And while there are some, myself included for so long, say just withhold enabling the young, this is harder to do than one might think. We do not live in isolation; it's everywhere, and even the young ear-budded urban hoodlums crave companionship. One just cannot stand against a rail in broad day-light scrolling one's phone--all *alone*. Nor can one experience the heights and free-fall of  'Goliath' with out a ride from mom in the min-van. My lesson I take from this day is not that we should avoid Six Flags (although I hear a chorus of angels above my head when I consider that thought)-- it is that we should be there when they need $4 more for a healthy water, when they've made a poor choice before riding, neglecting a pause in the sugar fest. Because if they are like mine, and Pandora's Box is already open, they are going to make poor choices. I'm going with being present. I'm going with the 'strengthening the tethers' plan, with love and honesty. When the questions about a more important 'Goliath' come up, I'll be there with a proverbial sling and a (silent)song (in my heart) about 'only a little boy David.' Their lions are real. And Bathsheba is everywhere. Perhaps a pause will surface, and they'll be looking past Reddit, to me. 
God help me be ready and not posting my FB status.