Every now and then I get the silly idea to start jogging again. This past September I started again with one simple rule; to jog further every single time I went. The first day I jogged I gave it my all and noted my distance. After a short walking break, I bargained with myself to jog the length of an avenue near my house. It sucked. But the next time I jogged, I knew I could increase the distance and run that entire avenue again. I knew for one very clear and simple reason: If I could do it once, I could do it again.  This has become my motivational mantra.

I actually hate jogging. But it’s great exercise, super beneficial and I like the idea of jogging. Over several weeks I increased my distance incrementally. Each time I jogged I burned the new distance into my mind. The next time I jogged, I directed my mental thoughts on that distance knowing full well that if I could reach it once, I could reach it again.

I practiced jogging this way until mid-October when I became terribly sick and was in bed for eight days. My cough lingered long after that. I didn’t jog. I was worried to test my lungs and dreaded the idea of starting over after having lost my momentum.

But that changed on Thanksgiving.

Although I was hosting, I found myself blessedly organized enough to get a workout in. And so I quickly got changed and tied on my sneakers before I could change my mind. Between my bedroom and the backdoor my thoughts considered how far I should go. Well, it’s your first jog post sickness so maybe just until you get tired?, one voice offered.  No, she should commit to a distance, but maybe only half of where she left off, another suggested.  Just walk and take it easy today.

As these thoughts lovingly battled it out in my brain, another voice rose above them, assertive but kind. You did it once. You can do it again.

And it was that reminder of my motivational mantra that propelled my feet to a new 2016 record despite not having jogged since mid-October. I felt glorious. Not just then, but for the rest of the day. I had never exercised on Thanksgiving before and I felt victorious. Not only did I exercise, but I once again went further than I had before.

This motivational mantra is comforting me today, too while I fast after an overindulgent extended weekend. I was discouraged and disappointed in myself last night, but today I am reminded: If I could do it once, I can do it again. I’ll get my weight back down and pick up where I left off, just like I did with jogging.

Please share: what motivational mantras do you repeat?

Following is the continuation of last week’s post, From Hating to Appreciating: Attempting To Love Your Body.

I’ve written before about how much I love the start of a new year. I imagine it was the high energy and positivity a new year brings that contributed to my second attempt at appreciating my body. January 17 was a bitter cold, dreary Sunday more than two months after my first attempt at completing A Course in Weight Loss‘ Lesson 7. The promise of snow lingered in the air and calm permeated my home like the scent of simmering soup. The weekend had been healthy and productive, my favorite kind. I had no further obligations and the clean sanctuary of my home office beckoned. The timing was perfect for ending an abusive relationship with my body and beginning an honorable one.

Preparation

I started with a long, steamy shower and concentrated on becoming more aware of my body as I prepared for the ritual before me. I sloughed my body of the dry skin that seemed to cover every inch of me, then slowly shaved my legs. This wasn’t my usual five minute shower, but more like the kind I take when I anticipate intimacy; giving of my body to someone else to enjoy. This time I prepared my body for intimacy with myself.

I concentrated as I slowly dried my skin, paying attention to each limb and joint. The silky material of my favorite robe felt pleasant against my skin. My awareness of my body increased as I sought to repair my relationship with the container of my soul.

Inside my office, I lit candles and incense upon my altar and played meditative music. I laid a towel on the floor directly before my altar and bowed to the Buddha before slipping off my robe. Standing naked and exposed, I battled embarrassment, shame and the urge to reach for cover. I stood tall, my hands in a prayer position at my heart. Snow started its slow and sporadic fall just outside the windows directly in front of me. I strived to summon the grace, strength, power and beauty of ancient kings and queens who regularly performed similar rituals.

Acknowledgement of Abuse

I reached for the oil. As the book instructed, I started with my feet. My cracked and calloused heels felt rough in my hands and guzzled the oil like desert dirt gulps rainwater. I apologized to my heels for giving them so much weight to bear.

Next, I lovingly smoothed the oil into the skin of my ankles and legs. I examined the scars and beginnings of varicose veins bright against the paleness of my flesh. So many scars… from accidents, bug bites, a tomboyish youth, all coupled with a horrible habit of scab picking. And then the pencil thin scars on the insides of my thighs. Not the stretch marks that are plentiful I assure you, but the marks I made myself many years ago. My eyes filled as the sight of those scars brought me back to my teenage bedroom. The sadness, loneliness and anger I felt then coursed through me. I cried for that teenage girl who felt so scared, so hurt, so lonely that she dragged razor blades across her flesh in order to feel something, anything other than what she was feeling.

I rubbed my thumbs gently over those scars lovingly as a parent might rub a smudge of dirt off a toddlers pudgy cheek. “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed over and over as I allowed myself to grieve, not just for my body, but for myself and the young girl I used to be. “I’m trying. I swear to you I’m trying so hard.”

I wrapped my arms around myself and hung naked in a sort of forward fold as my body wracked with sobs. My skin absorbed oil mixed with tears. When I was ready, I once again summoned the power of those ancient queens and stood tall once more.

Coincidence is indeed God’s way of remaining anonymous. Just yesterday I read these words spoken by Chris Cleave’s character, Little Bee in the book Little Bee:

“I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.”

I ask you all now to join with me in Little Bee’s pact. Let us all see scars as beauty. Okay?

Gratitude

I continued my upward journey as I thanked my skin for its ability to expand and apologized for making it have to. My belly. My belly is something I hardly ever look at in a mirror except to ensure it’s properly covered. It’s the palest part of my body, as white as the snow that fell just outside my window. I rubbed oil into it with both hands in a circular motion and apologized for hating it so much. I had rejected and detested my stomach, my core, the very center of me. In order to heal myself I now understand that I must make peace with my core and allow love to permeate the center of me.

Emotions continued their flash flood as I massaged my breasts with oil. Each was heavy in my hand. I have always disliked my breasts. They don’t make me feel sexy; they make me feel fat. More often than not, they are a nuisance. I have resented being told I should be grateful for them because men love large breasts. Excuse me if I don’t think that is a valid enough reason to graciously accept the many drawbacks of having large breasts.

But as I cupped my breasts in my hands I thought of my mother as she laid in her hospital bed post-mastectomy and placed her hand where her breast used to be and grieved the loss of her womanhood. And so I apologized to my breasts for disliking them. I apologized for not keeping them sacred and sharing them with far too many people who didn’t deserve access to my body so freely. I thanked them for not being cancerous.

The oil felt good against my skin and my body relaxed, responding to my touch, opening up to me, welcoming me. I began to feel more comfortable in my own skin and no longer felt the urge to cover up.

As I rubbed the oil into my back as best as I could, I apologized to my back for not being able to scratch and lotion it properly because I’m so wide. I apologized for the weakness of my core and shoulders that result in my poor posture, straining my back. I apologized that I’m so insecure at times I tend to huddle into myself, adding further stress to my back. Despite all this, my back truly has “my back,” so I thanked it for doing its job so amazingly well and praised it for its strength.

New Beginning

I covered the remainder of my body – my face, my ears, my neck. The sheen on my skin glistened in the flickering candlelight. I ran my hands slowly over my slippery surface, satisfied I hadn’t missed a spot. I sat on my towel in order to meditate on what I was feeling. Sitting cross-legged naked was so unfamiliar that I laughed out loud. “Here I am,” I thought. This was me in my purest state, nothing to hide behind. I looked down at my thighs, breast and belly and the way they all rested on one another unsupported by clothing. I sat up straight and lowered my eyes.

It’s true. I’ve fed my body excessive food, but too little love and care. It’s time to reunite my inner and outer self. I thanked my body for the way it moves despite everything I’ve done to it; for the miraculous way it heals; for the physical pain it endures and the resilience it demonstrates. I thanked it for the endless ways it supports me and for its power. Our skin is our biggest organ and I apologized for everything I exposed it to, environmentally, chemically, physically, all undeservedly. I thanked my skin for containing every single part of me.

Although I didn’t protect my body, it has protected me. I took advantage of my body and was in an abusive relationship with it. It took performing this ritual to understand all that. I am so grateful to have marked the beginning of an honorable relationship with my body. That was the goal of Lesson 7: to repair and restore the relationship between me and my physical self.

Like the oil, I think it’s safe to say it was absorbed.

P.S. Although I completed this ritual nearly seven months ago, I hadn’t wanted to write about it until now. It took me all these months to integrate the process and formulate my thoughts surrounding it. Now that I have, I feel the full benefits of the Lesson. If you’re working through A Course in Weight Loss, a similar book, a process of your own or simply wondering why I have been working through the same book for well over a year, please remember that change takes time, patience and space. 

Earlier this week I wrote about overeating, forgiving myself and moving on after an indulgent weekend. I accepted the fact that I once again set myself back, but I used my cognitive therapy skills to put a stop to the destructive behavior and guilt and reset. I thought I’d need a week of perfect eating to get back to where I was before the holiday weekend. Well, it appears my next step in this weight loss process needs to be changing my perception. That’s because the day after I forgave myself and gave my body a break, my weight was right back to where I was before the weekend. I was stunned.

Perception

It’s funny. My perception of a “fuck up” is still the same despite my eating habits and activity levels being so vastly improved over the past two years. For example, two weeks ago I worked out hard at the gym in the morning, ate a well-balanced breakfast and then a light lunch. But then I ate one and a half soft pretzels (this Philly delicacy tests me to my absolute limits). I justified eating them because I had such a great workout that morning.

But those damn pretzels sat heavy in my belly anyway and even heavier in my mind. I couldn’t see the pretzels for what they were: a snack of roughly 250 calories of carbs, water and salt. I saw them as another failure; the reason I can’t succeed; a stain on what was a decent day. I struggled to concentrate since I was full with regret. I had happy hour plans that night, which made things worse. I was supposed to eat “perfectly” so I could have some wine. I drank and had some bar snacks anyway. Although I wanted to eat when I got home, I’ve learned that desire and slight hunger does not demand eating. It was bed time. So I drank some water and went to sleep. I woke up expecting to weigh three hundred pounds heavier at least.

The scale was exactly the same as the day before.

See my point?

This is why I weigh myself nearly every day. Not because I’m obsessive, but because I find the reality of a situation is often not nearly as bad as my perception of one.

This past weekend I berated myself for overdoing it, and I did overdo it, just to be clear. I smoked, which is unacceptable. I drank three days in a row, had a giant bag of kettle corn, and ate until I was uncomfortable on Sunday. My perception of this was that I was an out of control screw up. I was so afraid to get on the scale so I gave myself a one day reprieve. When I did face the scale after that one reset day, I saw the exact same weight as before my indulgent weekend. The fog cleared and more specific details came to light…

Reality

I recalled that on Friday I ate a kale and beet salad before I went to the brewery, and that I only drank two beers there. I remembered how good I felt when I went to the ice cream shop and walked away with ice cream only for my dog, Cooper. I remembered how I declined Mike’s offer to grab me a slice of pizza after he caught me staring at someone’s.

Saturday I went to Philly. I drank many beers and went out for a late lunch. I recalled that although I splurged on nachos, I took half my quesadilla home because I could tell I was getting full, something I’ve only recently learned how to be cognizant of. Later, I went to town on kettle corn as I watched movies. But I didn’t have dinner and I walked 13,000 steps that day… not bad.

Sunday I filled up on the rest of my kettle corn too close to eating dinner, which is why I felt so uncomfortably full. The meal was perfectly reasonable in and of itself. And yeah, I drank, but I drank 4 oz. pours, not pints.

My point in sharing all these details is that my perception was way off. I wasn’t a gluttonous eating machine who should be chained up and kept away from children. The reality is I’ve come a really long way, can’t eat nearly as much as I used to, am far more active, and make exponentially better choices. This is the reality. 

I don’t give myself enough credit for all I’ve learned and all the destructive habits I’ve broken. It’s time I start. There is room for improvement, yes. But I see now just how much improvement there has been.

I haven’t mentioned my weight loss efforts in a while. Not because I haven’t been trying to lose weight — I don’t think there was a time in the past twenty years when I wasn’t trying to lose weight, at least in spirit — but because I haven’t had much to say. I’d be thin by now you’d think, but nope. I’m only ten or so pounds shy of the heaviest I’ve ever been. It’s so frustrating, too because I’m the most active I’ve been since I was tween, and I definitely eat the healthiest I ever have. But the weight is still reluctant to go away because I continue to struggle with emotional overeating and destructive behaviors.

Overeating

I overdid it this holiday weekend. I ate too much, drank too much and smoked cigarettes AGAIN. I congratulated myself just last week for going out for happy hour and not overdoing it; not smoking, not overeating when I got home. I worked my resistance muscle HARD and woke up the next morning feeling proud and accomplished. But I guess I pushed the muscle too hard and it was sore, so my giving in muscle picked up the slack.

Instead of feeling proud this morning, I felt disappointed, shameful, guilty, and frustrated.

One area where I now excel thanks to my cognitive therapy work is putting a stop to destructive behavior at the first possible opportunity, rather than riding things out until their logical and convenient end like I used to. Today is the last day of the three-day weekend. There’s still plenty of left-overs. I could easily rationalize overeating one more day and resetting tomorrow. But that’s the same destructive thinking that got me to where I am now.

Although my body was eager for a break and craved light foods, my emotions craved comfort and reprieve from the guilt and shame of what I had done to my body the past two days. I noticed my mood shift. I felt the urge to be healthy and productive today slip away as thoughts of TV-watching, napping, and eating danced across my mind enticingly.

Forgiving

I couldn’t let my intentions slip away. I recognized the destructive triangle I was caught in (thought leading to feeling, feeling leading to action, and action leading to thought and around and around I go) and knew I had to fight my way out. In a burst of energy and determination, I jumped up, silenced the internal pleas to stay on the couch, and took a shower. I created a new triangle because that positive action lead to the thought that perhaps I could forgive myself. So after my shower I meditated on forgiveness and moving on.

I quieted my mind enough that I heard the voice of my higher self. “It’s okay,” she said. The incense smelled sweeter and more inviting than the left-over homemade peach cobbler and I surrendered myself to the calm. I felt gratitude for my body, something I experienced for the first time when completing Lesson 7 from A Course in Weight Loss, which I will write about in another post. I also felt sorrow for what I had done to my body, but again the voice said, “It’s okay.”

I breathed in and out, letting go of this weekend’s weakness and allowing my mind to still. “You are determined,” came the voice of my higher self. “And you are forgiven.”

I haven’t been back on the couch since before my shower. I’m listening to my body instead of my mind, and only giving it what it wants, which is water and fruit. I’m grateful to be forgiven, especially because I’m only still learning that I have the right to ask for forgiveness. I no longer need to carry my guilt around like a bloated belly.

I feel lighter already.

Save

Save

Save

In August I wrote a list of ten things you can do to feel better when you’re feeling crappy. Things like be gentle to yourself, eat well, avoid negativity, etc. All great things and all proven to help you feel better. I stand by all of them. But sometimes those just aren’t enough. So here to help are ten more mood-boosting tips to feel better.

But what about when you practice all those things regularly and life is generally going good and then you go to the store to buy a salad for dinner and there are soft pretzels at the counter and you sort of black out and buy one and then eat it as you walk down the street and then you’re on the train and you realize you’ve ruined your healthy-eating streak and all your hopes for the evening are ruined and instead of cooking and writing and paying bills you want to lay on the couch like this…

Do check out Hyperbole and a Half and the artist responsible for this photo

…while shaking an angry fist in the air with a word bubble that says “Damn you, Pretzel! Goddamn you straight to HELLLLLLL!”

We as people have a tendency to wallow in our funks. When we feel depressed, nothing is appealing so getting out of the funk can be difficult. It takes energy, which is in short supply, hence why we tend to lay around on the couch.

But to those of us who know the mood is only temporary and that we’ll most likely regret “wasting” time once we feel better, it’s skillful to pro-actively take steps to defeat the funk and feel better instantly.

Lucky for me I had just accidentally carbo-loaded (which got me into this funk). Note: I know there’s nothing really wrong with a pretzel; all in moderation – yeah, I know, but I was on a really good streak and processed white flour often sends me into a carb binge. Back to the carbo-loading: so even though I did lay like a slug for a bit, I did have physical energy, just no mental desire or motivation because I was mad at a pretzel myself.

It’s times like this when you need to do something that works instantly!

10 Mood-Boosting Tips to Feel Better Instantly

1. Listen to happy music

One of many days I was angry with my husband, I decided I wanted to stop being angry, so I fired up Spotify’s Mood Booster playlist. I felt better instantly (and kind of silly listening to such happy-go-lucky music). Anyway, when he came in the room I changed my mind and decided I did still want to be mad so I prepared to say something not nice, took a deep inhale, and instead I STARTED LAUGHING. I just couldn’t be mad. It was too ridiculous to be mad when Pharrell’s “Happy” was playing in the background. Then he started laughing and asked why I was listening to such crappy music and I said, “Don’t knock it. Pharrell’s the reason you’re not being yelled at right now.”

We often want to listen to music that matches our moods. Sad music for a broken heart, hardcore for when we’re angry. Happy, fun music tricks the brain into having a good time. So build a playlist full of whatever floats your boat, or use one of the many playlists that already exist to get you feeling better in no time.

2. Phone a friend!

Tell them you feel bummed and ask them to help you feel better. A good friend will happily oblige. Or at the very least distract you long enough to forget why you’re feeling crappy. My go-to friend has a way of tricking me into saying what I wanted to do and then making me PROMISE I’ll go do that. Ugh, it’s so annoying.

3. Exercise. Get those endorphins flowing.

Yes, this was on the other list, but it bears repeating for its instant results. Go for a jog, hit the gym, take a walk, drop in for a yoga class. Just MOVE. If you’re feeling crazy, you can even combine #1 and #3 and listen to happy music while you run – now that’s just insane mood boosting right there!

4.CREATE something… ANYTHING. Bake, cook, build, paint, collage, write, sew.

This is so fulfilling, distracting AND rewarding. Doing an activity will take effort so ask for help if you need it. The night of ‘the pretzel incident’ I said to my husband, “I want to cook for the week and bake banana bran muffins, but i don’t have the motivation.” He said I should do it and offered to clean everything up afterward. Having help was enough to get me started and once I got started, I felt so much better.

5. Watch a movie – something funny or feel-good – or one of your favorites.

Television and movies are also distracting and can be very mood-enhancing depending on what you watch. So turn on the tube, binge-watch some Netflix, or pop in a movie and slug it up on the couch until the mood boosting powers kick in.

6. Read – escape to another world.

I am currently reading Jenny Lawson’s new book, Furiously Happy. It’s funny and entertaining. I read it once I was done cooking and baking so I wouldn’t start feeling crappy again.

Similar to movies, books are distracting and reading is a wonderful way to not so much boost your mood, but to forget why you’re in a poor mood. 

7. Practice gratitude.

Yes, this was on the other list, too BUT it bears repeating due to its instantaneous mood-boosting power.

I was mad at a pretzel myself. I considered letting it ruin my entire night. (by the way, I’m fully aware of how completely ridiculous this is.) What if it was my last night on earth? There are people who are starving and have no access to food. There are people who have no money for food. I live in a place where pretzels are sold at check out counters and I don’t even have to think about how much they cost, I just swipe my card and go on my way. I struggled with a pretzel because I am overweight because I have too much access to food. My “problem” was so ridiculous.

Compare yourself to those less fortunate and I guarantee you’ll feel better about your current situation.

8. Meditate

Stop thinking about what’s bothering you. Sit in silence. Try to clear your mind, be in the present moment. Meditation helps you to refocus.

The pretzel was in the past. It was time to let go and stop worrying about it. Life goes on. It’s all good.

9. Go somewhere.

In your pajamas at 2:00 pm slugging on the couch feeling sorry for yourself? Nothing else appeals to you? Brush your teeth, throw on some jeans, run a comb through your hair and GO SOMEWHERE. Get some fresh air. Drink a latte and people watch at your favorite cafe, drive to the beach, grab a beer at a bar, go sit in a park.

The act of getting dressed and out of the house alone is enough to make you feel that you didn’t squander your day. Besides, you never know what you may see, how you may feel inspired, or who you might meet. At the very least, you got some fresh air.

10. Cuddle your pup! Or your cat (if that’s your sort of thing.) No pets? Watch funny or cute videos of animals.

I could create a list within a list and provide 9 reasons you should cuddle your dog more often. But instead, I’ll just link to this wonderful list since someone else already made one.

No pets? But still like to laugh at them? Then take your mind off of how you think you may have failed at life, and instead watch this wonderful video of dogs failing at being dogs. I dare you not to laugh.

You’re welcome.

If you feel down, and you are mindful enough to acknowledge it, then you’re mindful enough to do something about it. Now you have ten tips in your toolbox. 

Save

Save

The last time I wrote about A Course in Weight Loss, it was on lesson #3. I had described my altar as my safe place and what creating your safe place entails. Since then, my altar has become crowded, but in a good way. Over the weekend I completed lesson #6, so as part of my commitment to doing all the work entailed in the book and reporting back to you here, I will use this post to recap lessons #4-6. Before I do so, however, I want to report that somewhere around lesson #5, a shift finally occurred in my relationship with food. For the first time in a very long time, I feel that I have a modicum of control over food and not the other way around. This is in thanks to the tools I am learning and the work I am doing.

Again, I remind you that these lessons do not only apply to weight loss, but to all unwanted areas of life: addiction, unhappiness, etc. Also, these are only recaps. If you want to do the work in this wonderful book, please do pick it up and read it for yourself so you get all the information.

Lesson #4 is titled, “Invoke the Real You” and is about facing down the fears that feed our compulsions, and realizing that our bodies at their healthiest, happiest, and most creative already exist and dwell in divine possibility. Marianne Williamson writes that our healthier figures are not just vague hopes dangling out in the universe somewhere– rather, they are divine imprints gestating within us. “The same God who created roses created you,” she writes. “Nothing you have ever done and nothing that anyone has ever done to you could make imperfect what God created perfect.” 

Through spiritual practice we can find our way back to our real selves: through prayer, meditation, forgiveness, and compassion. So in lesson #4 we meditate on removing any fear we have of being who we really are. No one is holding us back except ourselves. “You are cruel to you,” Williamson writes. “You are withholding from you. You are harming you.”

Embracing the power of positive thought and the law of attraction, ideas I already believe in, lesson #4 teaches us that the more we embrace the image of a beautiful body and emotionally permit ourselves to desire one, the more our subconscious minds will make one manifest. Therefore, rather than comparing and contrasting our bodies with those in magazines, which usually leads to a seesaw of alternating motivation and despair, we will project our real selves into the world, creating a new image for ourselves rather than the ones that have always existed with our flabby stomachs and double chins.

I was with Williamson until she suggested self-imposing my head onto images of beautiful bodies. I thought this was pretty ridiculous, to be honest and I felt embarrassed. In fact, it took me a couple weeks to be convinced that I should. Since my beauty apparently already exists, the more I claim it as already existing, the more quickly it will materialize. Supposedly.

So I did it. I tore out four photos from my favorite catalog, Athleta, and cut my head off photos and taped them over the models, fully prepared to blame the book should anyone decide to have me committed for this strange act. I placed the four images on my altar. And you know what? I love looking at them. The very next morning when my alarm clock went off at the dreadful hour of 5:00 am, I hit the snooze button. Then I thought of those images of myself with the body I dream of, and I got my ass up and to the gym. Envisioning your face on the body you desire really is a helpful tool.

As an overweight person, you have given birth to the body of your suffering; it’s time now to give birth to the body of your joy. – M. Williamson

Lessons #4-6 all represented on my altar.

Lesson #5 is titled “Start a Love Affair with Food” but I prefer to call it, “Let’s Go Shopping!” First of all, Williamson acknowledges that many of us are at home thinking “Ummm, shouldn’t we be ending our love affair with food?” and I love her response.

What you’ve had up to this point has been an obsessive relationship. THERE IS NO LOVE THERE. Pain and compulsion and self-hate are not love.”

So to begin this love affair, in summary we need to learn to eat mindfully and appreciate our food for how it contributes to our health. “The eating patterns of an overeater are chaotic, fearful, furtive, and out of control.” This lesson is a plan for “dissolving your hysteria and filling your emptiness by replacing it with love.” We can attain healthy neutrality toward food by learning to love it, and the only food we can really love is food that loves us back. Sundaes may give us a momentary high, but so can crystal meth. Things full of sugar and processed chemicals bring us lots of things, but you will not find love amongst the higher cholesterol and increased cancer, diabetes, cardiovascular disease and food allergy risks, not to mention the weight gain. Foods that love you contribute to your well-being.  

So in lesson #5, we learn to build a new ritual: the ritual of healthy, wise, non-secretive, and loving eating. And we get to go shopping! Because this ritual involves a new beautiful napkin, new beautiful plate, new beautiful placemat, new beautiful glass, and new beautiful knife, fork and spoon. (I threw in the new beautiful bowl by choice.) These things must be new because we can’t build new rituals using the tools that represent the old.

If that word “ritual” still brings up negative connotations for you, I suggest you read my post “Demystifying the Ritual” or remembering that secretive and excessive eating is also a form of ritual so please don’t try to argue that ritual isn’t for you.

These items must be beautiful because beauty is sacred. Also, nothing need be expensive. My entire place setting pictured below cost less than $20, but it is beautiful and I love it! I washed everything and set it up on my altar, as the book instructs, to beckon the real you… the healthy person who has not quite arrived yet. This place setting can be used whenever I feel like it. I guarantee you that I will not be loading my plate and bowl up with junk. Eating off of these items will be an act of love and mindfulness.

Lesson #5 and #6. A lotus flower is etched into the glass!

Lesson #6 is titled “Build a Relationship with Good Food.” In Lesson #5 we start the love affair, but lesson #6 will help us when that love affair begins to lose its excitement, like when a salad every day no longer does it for you. Contrary to what you may assume, I am a very healthy eater. I cook and eat “real” food. My issue is over-indulgence and emotional binge-eating.

So when lesson #6 instructed me to go buy a piece of fruit, any piece of fruit, I wanted something I have never had before because me and fruit are already in love. I wanted to meet fruit’s exotic cousin.

Is there anything man has created that can begin to compare with the majesty of a mountain? Is there anything man has created that can begin to compare with the beauty of a flower? Is there anything man has created that can begin to compare with the power of a river or the force of a rainstorm? Then why is it that when it comes to food, people have developed this ridiculous notion that we’ve somehow improved on God? That chemically processed food is somehow preferable to what nature has to offer?

– M. Williamson

Enter sexy, mysterious dragonfruit! Rawr!  I placed the dragonfruit on my altar for a day then the next morning (after googling how to cut it – it looks way more intimidating than it is), I cut it up and placed it in my beautiful new bowl on my altar and performed the meditation in the book. It was an exercise in mindful eating and an act of love. After a few bites, I decided it would be better as a smoothie so I blended it with banana and beet and almond milk, but I don’t think it minded.

Lesson #6. Dragonfruit whole, diced, smoothied.

A Course in Weight Loss: 21 Spiritual Lessons for Surrendering Your Weight Forever is changing my dysfunctional relationship with food. That relationship has been a source of my suffering so this weight loss journey is running parallel with my journey to be a more compassionate person. The work is going hand in hand, two lines that weave along together in the same direction toward the same destination: happiness.

I continue to be amazed by the timing and synchronicity of things. I can’t help but view these events as some sort of cosmic reassurance that I’m on the right track creating my own rituals, setting new moon intentions and working my way through A Course in Weight Loss to help overcome my emotional over-eating.

Thursday, the 16th was a new moon so I finalized my intentions for the new cycle the night before. Writing down my short term goals last moon cycle motivated me more than any trick or tool had before.  Maybe it was the physical act of writing them down and seeing them in black and white, or maybe it was the energy of the moon or the “officialness” of the ritual – making my intentions known and believing I could achieve them, rather than just half-assing them off to the void. I believe it was all three. Anyway, it was a productive and successful cycle. I did tough things, including a few exercises I had been putting off. I found that I wanted to get the hardest things done first, and I did.

My new motto has become “eat the frog first.” My lovely sister-in-law shared the motivational expression with me, one she had learned in business school, and it stuck. The idea is to just get it over with and do the hardest thing first. Everything seems easier after that – you don’t have to think about that task anymore. It’s like working out first thing in the morning. For the rest of the day, you’re off the hook.

I’ve actually been practicing this method for quite some time. Now I have a fun expression for it. I have a good friend who absolutely hates when I say this (and I do say it often). It’s funny to me, though considering he eats his food precisely in the order of what he likes least first, literally saving the best for last. I also rather finish my meal with the lingering taste of french fries in my mouth than frog guts. But I digress.

So I ate the frog first last moon cycle and included a hard thing for this moon cycle because I believe that if it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you, and if it doesn’t change you, you’re not making progress.

The “theme” of the last moon cycle was creativity, mindfulness and action. I felt that energy, creating my own rituals and taking action. I completed Lesson #1 in A Course in Weight Loss and moved on to the next, titled “Thin You, Meet Not-Thin You.” This lesson involves getting to know and love the part of you that overeats. I smiled when I read up on the “theme” of this new moon in Cancer: self-love and compassion.

Synchronicity, guys.

For Lesson #2, Marianne Williamson writes that Not-Thin You “is not your enemy; she is an unintegrated part of yourself. She is an aspect of you that is demanding to be seen and heard.” The point is to give her the love and attention she needs and deserves. “It does feel odd that we should honor a part of ourselves that we do not want, but Not-Thin You will not go away until she is listened to.”

Ever since the stress in my life reached all time highs and I put on 30 pounds of extra weight, I have sternly exclaimed that THIS (motioning to my body) is NOT me! “I feel like I am walking around in a fat suit!” I have been so conflicted feeling one way and looking another, going around defending myself. Then I realized through reading this book that I have been denying an entire dimension of myself and no wonder I was feeling so conflicted. “…and in a dysfunctional effort to numb the pain of the conflict, you’ve only created more of it.”

Bingo.

Since we can’t just love on command or turn off our anger, communication is necessary. So Lesson #2 calls for initiating an honest and transparent dialogue between Thin You and Not-Thin You.

So Thin Me wrote to Not-Thin Me and I laid it out on the table. To summarize, I took responsibility for all I had put us through, but expressed my disappointment in her inability to bounce back now that life isn’t as stressful. I told her she embarrasses me and holds me back, but also thanked her for getting up that mountain in Colorado with my brother that gained 1,400 feet of elevation in only 1.6 miles. I asked her what the fuck her problem is and pointed out all the things I have done to help her. I insisted she tells me what she needs. I told her I can’t move on with my life until she gets her shit together.

Then Not-Thin Me responded. She thanked me for all that I’m doing for her, especially getting our heart rate up more and working my way through this book. “I am stronger than I look,” she wrote. She pointed out that it’s not all her fault and cited specific examples where I’ve screwed up, “so stop blaming me for everything!” As for what she needs: attention. Patience, love, kindness, compassion. “Stop ignoring me and saying you’re not me because I hate to tell you this, but YOU are ME,” she wrote.

We are much closer to reconciliation. I realize now how wrong it was for me to deny her existence. Hopefully as she begins to feel safe, she will relax, and we can work together.

Again, I share these lessons not only for emotional eaters. This exercise translates to Happy You and Not-Happy You, Sober You and Drunk You, Adult You and Little-Kid You. Is there a dimension of yourself that you’re denying? Perhaps someone fighting for your attention? Open up the lines of communication, lay your side out there and see what they have to say. You may be surprised…

The exercises in this book and losing weight aren’t the only things I’m working on. Two days in to this moon cycle I ate my frog and the rest of my intentions seem like a cake walk (I’ll substitute some fruit for the cake). I am also happy to report that I will be submitting an essay for professional publication. (Wish me luck!)

What are your intentions for this moon cycle, this month, this week, or even just tomorrow? Eat your frog. It may suck at the moment, but think of how good you’ll feel afterward.

I want ice cream. And Cheez-its. I just pried a bag of Lindt chocolate truffles out of my own hands and in an act of defiance threw it out, grabbed my laptop and started aggressively tapping away these words. There’s no denying it anymore. I am an emotional overeater.

My husband just told me he is going out for ice cream and asked me if I wanted any. “No,” I answered through gritted teeth. For a split second I wondered if I should throw up while he’s gone.

I battle with food and my weight EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. of my life. I’m so uncomfortable in my own skin that my reflection in the mirror catches me by surprise at times. I am not this overweight person. I’m active. I drink water. I’m a healthy cook and meal planner. I am an educated consumer, an expert calorie counter, and know the mathematics of losing weight. What I also am, however, is an emotional eater. It was only within the past few months that I could learn to admit this to myself.

The Emotions I Eat

Tonight a terrible storm ripped through the area. Tornado warnings blared from the television while trees bent horizontal in front of our windows and hail slammed against them. I identified my urge to nibble stemmed from nervousness and I fought it off, afraid to look away from the windows into the fridge. Once the storm passed was another story, unfortunately. Relief, perhaps?

There is hardly an emotion I don’t associate with eating. Happiness: celebrate with food; Frustration: you deserve some food; Anxiety/Nervousness: eat the time away; Sadness: numb it with food; Guilt: distract yourself with food; Abandonment: seek comfort from food; Shame: punish yourself with food.

My mom was an emotional eater. With her permission, I can share with you that she went to Over-eaters Anonymous (O.A.) for a time after her divorce. She’d drag me along when I was too young to stay home alone. I remember all those overweight people standing in a circle, holding hands, reciting the Serenity Prayer. My Mom shared at a meeting that she had eaten nearly a dozen donuts and in an act of desperation, threw the box in the trash. She later retrieved it from the can, had another one while crying with each bite, until she finally threw them back into the trash and dumped used coffee grinds over them for good measure.

I’ve never eaten anything out of the trash, but I will tell you that I see a lot of my mom’s behaviors in me. I don’t know how much is learned and how much is genetics, but I can’t keep living this way. I feel powerless a lot of the time; miserable. I can’t seem to go more than a week without a setback.

Beginning to Understand Why I Am an Emotional Overeater

I started reading A Course in Weight Loss: 21 Spiritual Lessons for Surrendering Your Weight Forever. Although I am only on the first lesson, it’s really hitting home. The goal is to reset the mind in order to reset the body. The notion being that we are perfect, but have a tendency to forget who we are. When we can’t remember who we are, we have trouble behaving like the person who in our heart we most long to be. Fear is powerful.

“[Fear] expresses itself as an imposter self, perverting your true nature and making you behave in a way that is opposite of who you truly are.”

Overeaters have a delusional relationship with food, imbuing it with power it doesn’t actually possess, while indulging in an act of self-hatred. The book refers to it as an “emotionally violent act” to which we then scold ourselves for doing, “inflicting further violence.” I know this vicious cycle all too well.

The book aims to help us replace fear with love, and it starts off with an intense emotional exercise to shed excess weight from our minds, the weight of our emotional shadows.

I will be elaborating on this exercise in my next post because I am finding it powerful and beneficial, and it would be for anyone, not just an overeater.

I’m not going to eat anything else tonight. I managed to distract myself long enough. When referring to my weight, I say all the time, “This isn’t me!” But here I am, unexpectedly announcing to all of you that I am an emotional overeater. Why? Because I suppose this is me. And I know for a fact I am not alone. But just because this is who I am now, doesn’t mean it is who I am supposed to be, or who I will remain.

Alas, this is another part of my journey to happiness. I have some serious work ahead of me as I work on getting my emotional shit together.

Thanks so much for reading.