I think I've said this before but it doesn't hurt to repeat it. I love music. Really, what's not to love? Music has an impact on me and many others that has shaped and at times, defined my life.
I'm reading a book right now about a woman who is a music therapist. She uses music to work with emotional issues, trauma victims and disabilities. The concept sparked interest for me and I've googled and binged it enough to now believe music therapy is an excellent option for people who fall into those categories. I firmly believe for many, music is therapy.
I grew up listening to music. I remember nights sitting in our living room with my dad, listening to the Glenn Miller Orchestra or Neil Diamond and countless other performers from the 40's and 50's. We'd sit and listen and eat Malted Milk Balls while drinking calorie laden Dr. Pepper from glass bottles. I could afford to drink full throttle drinks like that as a child. Now? Not so much. Today when I hear "Chattanooga Choo Choo" or "Cherry Cherry" I almost feel transported back in time to that same living room and the little girl I used to be. Granamials and all.
I admit to being picky about my music. I like what I like and it's not always what someone else likes. Come to think of it, that's pretty much how I am about most everything in my life. I'm not closed minded about music but I have a preference and I can tell, immediately if something I hear is going to be a winner for me or not. First impressions are everything, I guess.
My husband and I disagree about the purpose of music in life. He defines it as background noise. Something he can take or leave. I consider it something much more substantial. Neil Diamond has a song called "Song Sung Blue". The premise of the words is that most people, when sad, turn on a song to validate those feelings and wallow, so to speak but once the music plays, they can't help but sing along and ultimately feel better. There's just something in the chords, the words, the rhythm...something that sparks our happy to push through and make an appearance. He's right. Sometimes even a sad song can make me feel better.
Music has a connection to my past, my present and my future. I can sit in a room, listen to my iTouch and think about any phase in my life, past or future, in relation to a song. "Against All Odds", an 80's classic, brings back memories of my first real love and the emotional torture I felt when it ended. Of course now I don't feel that torture. Instead, I feel nostalgic and it reminds me of the innocence of that time, not the pain and drama I felt then. Phil Collins can take me back to that innocence in three minutes, like it was just yesterday.
Right Now by Valen Halen (the Sammy years, which I liked much more than the DLR ones), is a theme song of sorts for me. The song focuses me on the now and the future. What I'm doing now impacts what I'll do later so make now worth it. Make it count. What's stopping me? I listen to that song every time I'm on the elliptical at the gym and I want to get off. It reminds me of why I'm there in the first place.
Music is about emotion. It's a beat stuck in our head that can drive us crazy (that It's Friday song needs to be put out of it's misery, please) or a phrase that makes us feel good (I can't sing Hey Soul Sister and feel bad. I just can't). Music can lift me out of what's happening now and transport me anywhere I want to be. I miss my mom, so I listen to country from the 80's because she loved that. I miss my dad and Frank Sinatra's Summer Wind connects me to him.
Yes, I'm picky. I prefer male voices to female, though there are some I like. I have no interest in rap or hip hop and really, jazz doesn't do a whole lot for me. I tend to gravitate toward 'rockabilly', BoDeans, Blue Rodeo, the like. I like what most radio stations never play and have my iTouch near my side 24/7 - except the hell of losing it for 42 days though it was right in front of me the whole time. Pure torture, really.
Some people don't really feel the same about music and it makes me sad for them. They're missing out on so much. My daughter never understood my attachment to music. I remember telling her that one day it would make a big difference in her life and she'd have it on all of the time. She couldn't see that as an option but now, she totally gets it. At least, after all this time, I did something right!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
29 Days Refined Carb and Sugar Free!
Things I'm doing:
1. Busting my big, fat, Italian beeeeehind at the gym six days a week.
2. Not eating anything with chocolate, whipped cream, icing or anything sugary and fattening. Damn it.
3. Eating more protein and veggies than any sane person should.
4. Craving 0 fat plain Greek yogurt. With a tad bit of cinnamon.
5. Reading a book every two days (to keep my mind of of eating the stuff mentioned in #2.)
6. Kicking up my cardio an additional 15 minutes to an hour instead of 45 minutes a day.
7. Switching up my weight training from lighter weights and higher reps to heavier weights and lower reps. (which by the way, has made my butt hurt a whole heck of a lot!)
8. Getting up when I get up, heading to Starbucks and then straight to the gym so I don't sit at home and decide not to go.
9. Losing weight but not weighing myself anymore because the scale is an evil alien designed to screw with my head.
So far, so good. Five months until Costa Rica. 20 lbs (I will weigh again, eventually) should be no problem!
1. Busting my big, fat, Italian beeeeehind at the gym six days a week.
2. Not eating anything with chocolate, whipped cream, icing or anything sugary and fattening. Damn it.
3. Eating more protein and veggies than any sane person should.
4. Craving 0 fat plain Greek yogurt. With a tad bit of cinnamon.
5. Reading a book every two days (to keep my mind of of eating the stuff mentioned in #2.)
6. Kicking up my cardio an additional 15 minutes to an hour instead of 45 minutes a day.
7. Switching up my weight training from lighter weights and higher reps to heavier weights and lower reps. (which by the way, has made my butt hurt a whole heck of a lot!)
8. Getting up when I get up, heading to Starbucks and then straight to the gym so I don't sit at home and decide not to go.
9. Losing weight but not weighing myself anymore because the scale is an evil alien designed to screw with my head.
So far, so good. Five months until Costa Rica. 20 lbs (I will weigh again, eventually) should be no problem!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
The Long & Winding Road to Better Health
People who know me know I used to work out a lot. One good friend (Tammy, I won't mention your name) calls me the work out queen. She may have been right before but lately, not so much. I used to work out daily with a friend at a gym close to my house. Then my husband moved us to another county and the drive in the metro Atlanta traffic was too much so I stopped going. The club options here were sparse at best and I couldn't find a gym I felt comfortable with. I did end up at a Y, once it finally opened. I started back into a routine but being the stand-offish woman I am, I hadn't really made any friends there and for me, working out is better, easier and more fun with friends. Needless to say, I stopped doing what I enjoyed. Eventually I started up again, sporadically but at least I was doing something. Eventually another gym opened and I started going to it, though I wasn't really making friends. I'm just not good at that, I guess.
Life got in the way and I found other things to do with my time and then the $h!t hit the fan and life through two lousy curve balls and any thought or interest in exercise went out the window.
It's taken me nine months since the last curve ball to get back on track. It's actually funny because after the first curve ball, it took nine months too and then two months and 15 pounds less later, that second curve ball did me in. It's okay though. I've started tackling things from a different perspective and it seems to be working. Sometimes it's all a matter of mind games.
I had made a plan to start exercising prior to the end of 2010. I'm an excellent planner. I can plan anything to a T. My problem isn't the planning. It's the executing. I'm okay at it if there is an immediate gratification but if the result is long term, I tend to lose patience and stop. It's a psychological block I share with many but still it frustrates me that I'm that way.
I didn't actually 'start' the plan (albeit revised tremendously) until March 1st. I'd normally start something on a Monday but instead I decided to start on the first of a month. Change one to my psychological make up. Well, sort of.
Yes, I had a plan. No, it wasn't totally defined anymore but still, I knew I had to do something at some point. That's sort of a plan, right? The actual push that started me was my mirror. You know how people who have lost 100 or more pounds say they had a turning point, an ah-ha moment, an epiphany? I'm not sure but I think I had one (even though I only wanted to lose about 30 lbs but still worthy of an epiphany in my book).
I looked in the mirror one day, my pants fitting tighter than I'd like and a shirt pulled down low to cover my uncomfortableness. I've never been one to show off my figure but hiding it to the degree I felt I was was even pushing it for me. I looked in the mirror and thought, "I don't look that bad." Then I realized that's what people who have lost control of their weight, lost control of their health, must say. "I don't look that bad." And it freaked me out.
Truthfully, no, I don't look that bad. I'm not into the double digits of size. For many, my desire to lose weight is laughable. I get that. It's not about what others see or really, what the scale or number of my size is. It's about how I feel about me. How I feel physically. How I feel emotionally. How my health is. It's about my psychological make up and what I've done to myself, outside circumstances aside, to become what I am today. And really, I finally realized I don't really like what I've become. It's simply not me.
So on March 1st, I quietly started making changes to myself. My first change was to not tell anyone I was making changes. I've found if I speak of my goals, I psych myself out in some way to not follow them and end up looking like the boy who cried wolf, except more womanly. Instead, I kept my mouth shut for a change (which is never easy for an Italian woman, trust me) and did it. I stopped eating sugar and refined carbs. No breads, no pasta, no packaged foods. No fruits. I went with a close version of the South Beach Diet because it's about eating healthy and while I can't have certain things like fruits, I can add them back eventually and be happy. I'm not 'depriving' myself of anything of quality, designed to be good for my body, except the fruit and whole grains. It's temporary.
South Beach is designed to cut the sugar addiction from your body in a two week period. I know me and I know that two weeks wasn't going to be enough. My initial goal was to cut it until April 1st and then start adding fruits and whole grains back in. That is still my plan. I thought it would be hard. I thought I'd miss it. I thought I'd be cranky and bitchy and irritable and mean. I thought I'd cheat. I most always cheat on things like this.
I. Have. Not. Cheated. Once. Not. Once.
I'm on day 24 and I haven't had any cravings for any sugars. I miss bread a little but not enough to make it worth cheating. I'm not sure what I did but I've convinced myself that when I'm ready, I will add the bread back in slowing so this isn't a forever thing and I can do it. It's worked. I don't feel deprived. Yes, every so often I want to go out to eat and I do. I've had fajitas a few times but don't eat the tortillas. I've watched my family eat mountain sized scoops of ice cream and chips with cheese dip and don't break out in a sweat wanting it, nor do I try to sneak any of it. I'm so freaking proud of myself I can't tell you!
It took a few days before anyone noticed. My husband mentioned something when I wasn't eating rice and I told him. He wasn't shocked because I've done this before but I think it surprised him that I didn't tell him. Normally I'd complain or 'jones' for something but generally, I've been okay.
I've had to figure out my triggers during this time. I've noticed that while I do 'want' certain things at certain times, it's a mental craving, not a physical craving. I've not felt a physical need for sugar. Sometimes I get frustrated, bored, lonely, mad, happy, sad, anxious...then I say, "I deserve a bag of M&M's" but I've realized the trick my mind is playing on me and I don't let it take hold. Progress. Figuring out my triggers has helped. I've been able to work through the emotion without the food (though boredom is sometimes a challenge) and have done well to date.
I didn't start exercising when I gave up the sugar and refined carbs. I didn't want to go full force like I always have because it's always created the crash and burn syndrome for me. Instead I waited two weeks and then I started exercising. First just cardio for 30-45 minutes five days a week because frankly, I'm out of shape. I didn't want to start back to spinning and weights daily because I knew I'd either injure myself or exhaust myself enough to quick. I started increasing the cardio to consistently be 45 minutes and then started adding some easy weightlifting back into my program. Today, for example, I didn't do cardio. I should have but I mixed up my leg routine to be higher weights and my legs are exhausted. I knew I'd be tired and I knew my heart rate would be high and I didn't want to push myself too hard. I plan to at least go for a walk later today.
I'm using my Polar heart rate monitor watch and keeping track of my calorie burn. Last week I set a goal to burn 200-400 more calories a day but I didn't reach it. It was a tough goal. I met it one day and didn't feel that normal rush of adrenaline afterward. I just felt tired and took that as a single that maybe it was too much. Instead I'm planning to add a little more calorie burn daily next week.
I also had no intention of weighing myself until April 1st. I hadn't weighed since my dad died last summer and knew I'd piled back on the 15 lbs I'd lost since gaining the weight from my mom's death (and maybe more) and honestly, I was afraid the scale would depress me and then I'd give up. Normally I'd be on the scale daily, freaking out with any slight change.
I know I've lost weight. My clothes fit better and I've reduced my bra size. Thank God. BUT...I had a plan to not weigh until April 1st and I couldn't stick to it. I had to know. Not knowing for sure what I weighed when I started, I went off the weight of my last time and figured I'd lost about 12 lbs in 16 or so days. Excellent. I weighed myself two more times and today the scale was higher and I was pissed. I know there are reasons for this...water retention, muscle, etc. etc. etc., yet it still played with my head and I've decided to stick to my original thoughts. It's not about what the scale says. It's about how I feel and how my clothes fit. Since those two are improving, I've got to not let the scale screw with me. Today, I'm working on that thought process and controlling it.
I don't know how long I'll continue this. I'd like to stick to my new way of eating until certain clothes fit but if I get to a point where I want to start eating the fruits and whole grains badly enough, I may. Everything in moderation. Right? I'm not sure if I can do that so I've really got to work on that process.
I've made a lot of changes in these past 24 days. Some aren't obvious to others but for me, they're changes. Mostly I've changed my way of thinking about things. It's not just the physical and nutritional changes, which, while important, aren't the main focus of my change. It's the psychological changes that are directing my actions. Instead of letting my mind work against me, I'm finding ways to change my way of thinking, change my self talk and the mind games I play against myself. So far, I'm winning that battle and it feels good.
Life got in the way and I found other things to do with my time and then the $h!t hit the fan and life through two lousy curve balls and any thought or interest in exercise went out the window.
It's taken me nine months since the last curve ball to get back on track. It's actually funny because after the first curve ball, it took nine months too and then two months and 15 pounds less later, that second curve ball did me in. It's okay though. I've started tackling things from a different perspective and it seems to be working. Sometimes it's all a matter of mind games.
I had made a plan to start exercising prior to the end of 2010. I'm an excellent planner. I can plan anything to a T. My problem isn't the planning. It's the executing. I'm okay at it if there is an immediate gratification but if the result is long term, I tend to lose patience and stop. It's a psychological block I share with many but still it frustrates me that I'm that way.
I didn't actually 'start' the plan (albeit revised tremendously) until March 1st. I'd normally start something on a Monday but instead I decided to start on the first of a month. Change one to my psychological make up. Well, sort of.
Yes, I had a plan. No, it wasn't totally defined anymore but still, I knew I had to do something at some point. That's sort of a plan, right? The actual push that started me was my mirror. You know how people who have lost 100 or more pounds say they had a turning point, an ah-ha moment, an epiphany? I'm not sure but I think I had one (even though I only wanted to lose about 30 lbs but still worthy of an epiphany in my book).
I looked in the mirror one day, my pants fitting tighter than I'd like and a shirt pulled down low to cover my uncomfortableness. I've never been one to show off my figure but hiding it to the degree I felt I was was even pushing it for me. I looked in the mirror and thought, "I don't look that bad." Then I realized that's what people who have lost control of their weight, lost control of their health, must say. "I don't look that bad." And it freaked me out.
Truthfully, no, I don't look that bad. I'm not into the double digits of size. For many, my desire to lose weight is laughable. I get that. It's not about what others see or really, what the scale or number of my size is. It's about how I feel about me. How I feel physically. How I feel emotionally. How my health is. It's about my psychological make up and what I've done to myself, outside circumstances aside, to become what I am today. And really, I finally realized I don't really like what I've become. It's simply not me.
So on March 1st, I quietly started making changes to myself. My first change was to not tell anyone I was making changes. I've found if I speak of my goals, I psych myself out in some way to not follow them and end up looking like the boy who cried wolf, except more womanly. Instead, I kept my mouth shut for a change (which is never easy for an Italian woman, trust me) and did it. I stopped eating sugar and refined carbs. No breads, no pasta, no packaged foods. No fruits. I went with a close version of the South Beach Diet because it's about eating healthy and while I can't have certain things like fruits, I can add them back eventually and be happy. I'm not 'depriving' myself of anything of quality, designed to be good for my body, except the fruit and whole grains. It's temporary.
South Beach is designed to cut the sugar addiction from your body in a two week period. I know me and I know that two weeks wasn't going to be enough. My initial goal was to cut it until April 1st and then start adding fruits and whole grains back in. That is still my plan. I thought it would be hard. I thought I'd miss it. I thought I'd be cranky and bitchy and irritable and mean. I thought I'd cheat. I most always cheat on things like this.
I. Have. Not. Cheated. Once. Not. Once.
I'm on day 24 and I haven't had any cravings for any sugars. I miss bread a little but not enough to make it worth cheating. I'm not sure what I did but I've convinced myself that when I'm ready, I will add the bread back in slowing so this isn't a forever thing and I can do it. It's worked. I don't feel deprived. Yes, every so often I want to go out to eat and I do. I've had fajitas a few times but don't eat the tortillas. I've watched my family eat mountain sized scoops of ice cream and chips with cheese dip and don't break out in a sweat wanting it, nor do I try to sneak any of it. I'm so freaking proud of myself I can't tell you!
It took a few days before anyone noticed. My husband mentioned something when I wasn't eating rice and I told him. He wasn't shocked because I've done this before but I think it surprised him that I didn't tell him. Normally I'd complain or 'jones' for something but generally, I've been okay.
I've had to figure out my triggers during this time. I've noticed that while I do 'want' certain things at certain times, it's a mental craving, not a physical craving. I've not felt a physical need for sugar. Sometimes I get frustrated, bored, lonely, mad, happy, sad, anxious...then I say, "I deserve a bag of M&M's" but I've realized the trick my mind is playing on me and I don't let it take hold. Progress. Figuring out my triggers has helped. I've been able to work through the emotion without the food (though boredom is sometimes a challenge) and have done well to date.
I didn't start exercising when I gave up the sugar and refined carbs. I didn't want to go full force like I always have because it's always created the crash and burn syndrome for me. Instead I waited two weeks and then I started exercising. First just cardio for 30-45 minutes five days a week because frankly, I'm out of shape. I didn't want to start back to spinning and weights daily because I knew I'd either injure myself or exhaust myself enough to quick. I started increasing the cardio to consistently be 45 minutes and then started adding some easy weightlifting back into my program. Today, for example, I didn't do cardio. I should have but I mixed up my leg routine to be higher weights and my legs are exhausted. I knew I'd be tired and I knew my heart rate would be high and I didn't want to push myself too hard. I plan to at least go for a walk later today.
I'm using my Polar heart rate monitor watch and keeping track of my calorie burn. Last week I set a goal to burn 200-400 more calories a day but I didn't reach it. It was a tough goal. I met it one day and didn't feel that normal rush of adrenaline afterward. I just felt tired and took that as a single that maybe it was too much. Instead I'm planning to add a little more calorie burn daily next week.
I also had no intention of weighing myself until April 1st. I hadn't weighed since my dad died last summer and knew I'd piled back on the 15 lbs I'd lost since gaining the weight from my mom's death (and maybe more) and honestly, I was afraid the scale would depress me and then I'd give up. Normally I'd be on the scale daily, freaking out with any slight change.
I know I've lost weight. My clothes fit better and I've reduced my bra size. Thank God. BUT...I had a plan to not weigh until April 1st and I couldn't stick to it. I had to know. Not knowing for sure what I weighed when I started, I went off the weight of my last time and figured I'd lost about 12 lbs in 16 or so days. Excellent. I weighed myself two more times and today the scale was higher and I was pissed. I know there are reasons for this...water retention, muscle, etc. etc. etc., yet it still played with my head and I've decided to stick to my original thoughts. It's not about what the scale says. It's about how I feel and how my clothes fit. Since those two are improving, I've got to not let the scale screw with me. Today, I'm working on that thought process and controlling it.
I don't know how long I'll continue this. I'd like to stick to my new way of eating until certain clothes fit but if I get to a point where I want to start eating the fruits and whole grains badly enough, I may. Everything in moderation. Right? I'm not sure if I can do that so I've really got to work on that process.
I've made a lot of changes in these past 24 days. Some aren't obvious to others but for me, they're changes. Mostly I've changed my way of thinking about things. It's not just the physical and nutritional changes, which, while important, aren't the main focus of my change. It's the psychological changes that are directing my actions. Instead of letting my mind work against me, I'm finding ways to change my way of thinking, change my self talk and the mind games I play against myself. So far, I'm winning that battle and it feels good.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Various Rantings about the Trivial...
Today is my second day away from Facebook. I decided to leave for Lent. I'm not Catholic but some Christians do practice Lent so I figured, what the heck. Yesterday I bored off my @$$.
I don't spend a lot of time 'on' Facebook but I have it on my phone, my itouch and my computer so it's easily accessible and if I get an email notification, I can quickly check, respond and feel like I've done something. Something useless and unimportant but something, none the less. I didn't realize the 50 or so emails a day from Facebook took up as much time as they did because yesterday I thought I was going to crawl out of my skin from boredom.
Keep in mind I had many things to do. I still need to finish the trim on the cabinets. Repaint the doors throughout the house. Finish painting the closet doors in the guest room. I could clean windows, steam clean my stairs, organize my soon to be sold jewelry supplies. I could do many things but yesterday I decided to watch it pour buckets on the metro Atlanta area out my big picture windows and complain to myself about being bored. Totally. Wasted. Day.
If I have another one of those I'm pretty sure I'm going to lose my mind.
I don't often do sitting still and doing nothing well. Losing both of my parents threw a monstrous kink in that theory for quite some time but my body and my mind have started to get back on track and I can literally feel my need to do something. Anything. I've felt the anxiety stirring in my gut. That feeling of 'if I don't move, I'm going to explode'. Maybe you get that, too? Maybe not. But I do and it's intense at times. Crawling out of my skin and exploding are not feel good things for me.
I did manage to get to the gym yesterday, something I've focused on doing every day this week and am confident will continue. I've missed it. It was me for a long time and then it wasn't and not only does my body show that but my mental state does, too. I've already noticed the difference in my appearance from the gym and the lack of refined carbs and sugars for 10 days so far and it motivates me to keep going. I love that motivation. I've missed it. So while I went to the gym yesterday, nothing else jumped out at me, screaming, "Pick me! Pick me!" and I picked nothing but couch sitting. Yuck. It was not fun.
Today I got up at 6 AM and decided that, since I was up, I'd go ahead and get my morning Starbucks and head to the gym earlier. I'm afraid if I wait, I'll change my mind, which has happened so often in the past. I had planned to do only cardio and thought 45 minutes would be good. Right now I'm mostly doing the elliptical because I'm old and my bursitis acts up when I walk and I'm not quite ready to spin daily again just yet. I hate the elliptical. It's so booorinnng. After 25 minutes I decided I'd hop off at 30 and sit on a bike because I really felt like sitting down. Thirty minutes came and I didn't have as big of an urge to sit so I actually talked myself (easily, too, surprisingly) into another 15 minutes. Fifteen came and went and then I had to make myself get off at an hour.
Who is this person taking over my motivation and can she please stay forever? I'm sort of liking her.
Admittedly, I was shocked that I decided to stay on for an hour. Silly as it sounds, cardio alone is boring as best and I have to work hard to resist the unmotivated Carolyn on my right shoulder whispering in my ear to get off and go eat something yummy. I'd listen to the motivating Carolyn on my other shoulder (maybe) but she's non-existent. I didn't even feel her today. Instead, I felt as if I didn't really want to get off and leave. I didn't really want to get off the elliptical and leave. I'm giggling as I type that because it's so darn funny to me! I guess the point is is that I feel like that's a good thing and tomorrow when I'm cursing that 25 minute mark, I'm going to remember that. Oh, and it doesn't help that there was a great song on my itouch at that time, too.
So today, I feel good.
Not going to do any of the painting and such I listed earlier because I felt so nasty sweaty after my hour of cardio I decided to shower right away and actually applied make up so instead I'm going out. Once I figure out what that means, I'm sure I'll feel busy and not want to crawl out of my skin. Maybe. I do suspect however, next week I'll be a painting crazy woman. Yippee.
(Insert clever change of subject lead in here...because I got nothing!)
Lately I've felt like I've been shut up. Hushed might be a better word, actually. Not that someone in particular is telling me to shut up or stop me from talking, more like what I have to say isn't all that important and I've just stopped, more or less. Some might argue that point, however. It's frustrated me and when I'm frustrated I feel tense and irritable and just no fun to be around. I think part of why I like Facebook is I can spit out a few things and feel like I've had my say in something, regardless of whether anyone cares or not. I don't think it made me feel important but for me, words are valuable and to not feel like I can use them makes me one cranky bitch. I thought about that and this blog and decided it's a good place to 'use my words' and if someone decides to read them, then hey, all the better. We'll see if I can be more consistent with it.
Time to eat. I'm hearing my stomach make sounds and if I don't shut it up with something healthy, I fear the little nasty Carolyn on my shoulder will come out.
Peace.
I don't spend a lot of time 'on' Facebook but I have it on my phone, my itouch and my computer so it's easily accessible and if I get an email notification, I can quickly check, respond and feel like I've done something. Something useless and unimportant but something, none the less. I didn't realize the 50 or so emails a day from Facebook took up as much time as they did because yesterday I thought I was going to crawl out of my skin from boredom.
Keep in mind I had many things to do. I still need to finish the trim on the cabinets. Repaint the doors throughout the house. Finish painting the closet doors in the guest room. I could clean windows, steam clean my stairs, organize my soon to be sold jewelry supplies. I could do many things but yesterday I decided to watch it pour buckets on the metro Atlanta area out my big picture windows and complain to myself about being bored. Totally. Wasted. Day.
If I have another one of those I'm pretty sure I'm going to lose my mind.
I don't often do sitting still and doing nothing well. Losing both of my parents threw a monstrous kink in that theory for quite some time but my body and my mind have started to get back on track and I can literally feel my need to do something. Anything. I've felt the anxiety stirring in my gut. That feeling of 'if I don't move, I'm going to explode'. Maybe you get that, too? Maybe not. But I do and it's intense at times. Crawling out of my skin and exploding are not feel good things for me.
I did manage to get to the gym yesterday, something I've focused on doing every day this week and am confident will continue. I've missed it. It was me for a long time and then it wasn't and not only does my body show that but my mental state does, too. I've already noticed the difference in my appearance from the gym and the lack of refined carbs and sugars for 10 days so far and it motivates me to keep going. I love that motivation. I've missed it. So while I went to the gym yesterday, nothing else jumped out at me, screaming, "Pick me! Pick me!" and I picked nothing but couch sitting. Yuck. It was not fun.
Today I got up at 6 AM and decided that, since I was up, I'd go ahead and get my morning Starbucks and head to the gym earlier. I'm afraid if I wait, I'll change my mind, which has happened so often in the past. I had planned to do only cardio and thought 45 minutes would be good. Right now I'm mostly doing the elliptical because I'm old and my bursitis acts up when I walk and I'm not quite ready to spin daily again just yet. I hate the elliptical. It's so booorinnng. After 25 minutes I decided I'd hop off at 30 and sit on a bike because I really felt like sitting down. Thirty minutes came and I didn't have as big of an urge to sit so I actually talked myself (easily, too, surprisingly) into another 15 minutes. Fifteen came and went and then I had to make myself get off at an hour.
Who is this person taking over my motivation and can she please stay forever? I'm sort of liking her.
Admittedly, I was shocked that I decided to stay on for an hour. Silly as it sounds, cardio alone is boring as best and I have to work hard to resist the unmotivated Carolyn on my right shoulder whispering in my ear to get off and go eat something yummy. I'd listen to the motivating Carolyn on my other shoulder (maybe) but she's non-existent. I didn't even feel her today. Instead, I felt as if I didn't really want to get off and leave. I didn't really want to get off the elliptical and leave. I'm giggling as I type that because it's so darn funny to me! I guess the point is is that I feel like that's a good thing and tomorrow when I'm cursing that 25 minute mark, I'm going to remember that. Oh, and it doesn't help that there was a great song on my itouch at that time, too.
So today, I feel good.
Not going to do any of the painting and such I listed earlier because I felt so nasty sweaty after my hour of cardio I decided to shower right away and actually applied make up so instead I'm going out. Once I figure out what that means, I'm sure I'll feel busy and not want to crawl out of my skin. Maybe. I do suspect however, next week I'll be a painting crazy woman. Yippee.
(Insert clever change of subject lead in here...because I got nothing!)
Lately I've felt like I've been shut up. Hushed might be a better word, actually. Not that someone in particular is telling me to shut up or stop me from talking, more like what I have to say isn't all that important and I've just stopped, more or less. Some might argue that point, however. It's frustrated me and when I'm frustrated I feel tense and irritable and just no fun to be around. I think part of why I like Facebook is I can spit out a few things and feel like I've had my say in something, regardless of whether anyone cares or not. I don't think it made me feel important but for me, words are valuable and to not feel like I can use them makes me one cranky bitch. I thought about that and this blog and decided it's a good place to 'use my words' and if someone decides to read them, then hey, all the better. We'll see if I can be more consistent with it.
Time to eat. I'm hearing my stomach make sounds and if I don't shut it up with something healthy, I fear the little nasty Carolyn on my shoulder will come out.
Peace.
Monday, March 7, 2011
About Choices...
I've been thinking a lot about choices lately. When you sit down and think about it, virtually everything we do comes from a choice. A choice we make, whether consciously or not, can determine the direction of our life. Pull out in front of a car quickly instead of waiting, can spur one off in a direction never thought possible and sometimes simply be the end of our path all together. That late afternoon coffee can keep us up all night. Everything is a choice and each of those choices have an impact on our lives, no matter how small.
Life gets more complicated as we grow older, add families and begin to lose the people we love. These complications add even more choices to an already complicated process. We begin to make choices for other people or because of other people and we learn about their choices and what they mean.
Watching my daughters find their places in life, making choices that may or may not be the best isn't always easy but I've come to realize for the most part, their choices are theirs and they won't learn from them if they don't make them. Of course there are situations where, as a parent, we must step in and stop a choice or correct one but for the most part, they're not going to learn if they don't deal with the consequences of their choices.
I watched my parents make choices that damaged their health and ultimately ended their lives. They knew what they were doing and chose to continue down that path.
I have no true control over what choices anyone makes. The only choices I can control, for the most part, are my own. Sometimes I have to make choices I don't like, for the sake of others or because it's simply the right thing to do. I could choose not to make those choices but it's all part of the process and sometimes it just simply is what it is.
I've spent a lot of time evaluating the choices I've made lately. Some were ones I didn't consciously make and some were made because of circumstances I couldn't control. What I had to realize about those choices is that while I did make them, consciously or not, I allowed them to continue, which in and of itself, is a choice.
I had to make a conscious choice if I wanted to continue along the path these choices directed me or if I wanted to find a new path by making a new choice. I've decided to make new choices. Some have been easier than others but they're mine. I own them, I made them and I'm going with the flow of them.
I'm not entirely sure what direction they're going to take me. Each choice has a ripple effect and requires even more choices but that's part of the fun of making conscious choices. I may do fine and I may stumble but if I do, I'll do it knowing I made a choice and have some form of control over what happens next.
I hope, as I continue down the path I'm choosing, I can positively impact those around me to make better, more informed choices, too.
Life gets more complicated as we grow older, add families and begin to lose the people we love. These complications add even more choices to an already complicated process. We begin to make choices for other people or because of other people and we learn about their choices and what they mean.
Watching my daughters find their places in life, making choices that may or may not be the best isn't always easy but I've come to realize for the most part, their choices are theirs and they won't learn from them if they don't make them. Of course there are situations where, as a parent, we must step in and stop a choice or correct one but for the most part, they're not going to learn if they don't deal with the consequences of their choices.
I watched my parents make choices that damaged their health and ultimately ended their lives. They knew what they were doing and chose to continue down that path.
I have no true control over what choices anyone makes. The only choices I can control, for the most part, are my own. Sometimes I have to make choices I don't like, for the sake of others or because it's simply the right thing to do. I could choose not to make those choices but it's all part of the process and sometimes it just simply is what it is.
I've spent a lot of time evaluating the choices I've made lately. Some were ones I didn't consciously make and some were made because of circumstances I couldn't control. What I had to realize about those choices is that while I did make them, consciously or not, I allowed them to continue, which in and of itself, is a choice.
I had to make a conscious choice if I wanted to continue along the path these choices directed me or if I wanted to find a new path by making a new choice. I've decided to make new choices. Some have been easier than others but they're mine. I own them, I made them and I'm going with the flow of them.
I'm not entirely sure what direction they're going to take me. Each choice has a ripple effect and requires even more choices but that's part of the fun of making conscious choices. I may do fine and I may stumble but if I do, I'll do it knowing I made a choice and have some form of control over what happens next.
I hope, as I continue down the path I'm choosing, I can positively impact those around me to make better, more informed choices, too.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Is This MY Blog?
Hello. My name is Carolyn. I've owned this blog for quite some time yet seldom do I do anything with it. Uninspired? Maybe. Bored and have nothing to write about? Also a maybe. Lazy? I'm thinking, probably, yes, lazy. That's okay. This too shall pass, right?
This year has brought a few changes to life as I know it. CBS canceled Medium, which sadly, means no more Joe DuBois (Jake Weber) to drool over. He really is the perfect husband, you know. How many men would tolerate their wives waking them up nightly because of wild, crazy dreams about murders and things that simply make no sense? Plus, she talks to his dad, who has been dead forever. Really, the guy is amazing. You'll be missed, Joe DuBois. Some people might find that a bit odd, one of the changes in my life being the cancellation of a TV show but well, it is what it is.
There are other changes, too. Self-inflicted changes that require more work for me. The lazy girl. What was I thinking? My biggest change is going back to working out. Which, by the way, is much harder at 44 than one would think. The bones and the muscles seem to fight each other and seriously, when did my stairs get so darn steep? I did legs yesterday today and I almost fell over doing my version of running down the stairs. I'm thinking it was the wind behind me, pushing me down. You know, the wind from the speed of my newly fit run down the stairs. Yes, that's what I'm goin' with here. It makes me feel better.
I'm thinking of getting back to my writing. I've had a few things sitting on the sidelines, waiting for me to add to them and I haven't. I felt uninspired and sad for so long it just wasn't worth the effort. Those things are still there and will get attended to (maybe even finished) but I've had this idea in my head for quite some time and its stirring around and around and is finally starting to boil. It may be put to paper if I can figure out the format. Then the question is, what do I do with it, if anything?
I guess the changes are more about what I want to do and not what I am doing. I'm hoping my motivation and determination will have a greater impact on me than the cloud I've had hanging over me, actually, completely engulfing me for the last two years. My parents wouldn't want me to feel that way anymore and honestly, I'm tired of feeling that way, too. It sort of just stopped. I still miss them, terribly. I still think about them more often than not and I still talk to them - but my life is continuing. They wouldn't want it to stop just because they're not here. I have to keep reminding myself of that but apparently it's working.
So I move forward. I tackle the stairs, even though I worry I'll fall down them (from that huge wind behind me due to my incredible speed). I pull out the Word document I've had sitting on my computer forever and see where it gets me. I'm hoping the change (no, not THAT change, geezus! I'm only 44) happens quickly. Because I'm ready.
This year has brought a few changes to life as I know it. CBS canceled Medium, which sadly, means no more Joe DuBois (Jake Weber) to drool over. He really is the perfect husband, you know. How many men would tolerate their wives waking them up nightly because of wild, crazy dreams about murders and things that simply make no sense? Plus, she talks to his dad, who has been dead forever. Really, the guy is amazing. You'll be missed, Joe DuBois. Some people might find that a bit odd, one of the changes in my life being the cancellation of a TV show but well, it is what it is.
There are other changes, too. Self-inflicted changes that require more work for me. The lazy girl. What was I thinking? My biggest change is going back to working out. Which, by the way, is much harder at 44 than one would think. The bones and the muscles seem to fight each other and seriously, when did my stairs get so darn steep? I did legs yesterday today and I almost fell over doing my version of running down the stairs. I'm thinking it was the wind behind me, pushing me down. You know, the wind from the speed of my newly fit run down the stairs. Yes, that's what I'm goin' with here. It makes me feel better.
I'm thinking of getting back to my writing. I've had a few things sitting on the sidelines, waiting for me to add to them and I haven't. I felt uninspired and sad for so long it just wasn't worth the effort. Those things are still there and will get attended to (maybe even finished) but I've had this idea in my head for quite some time and its stirring around and around and is finally starting to boil. It may be put to paper if I can figure out the format. Then the question is, what do I do with it, if anything?
I guess the changes are more about what I want to do and not what I am doing. I'm hoping my motivation and determination will have a greater impact on me than the cloud I've had hanging over me, actually, completely engulfing me for the last two years. My parents wouldn't want me to feel that way anymore and honestly, I'm tired of feeling that way, too. It sort of just stopped. I still miss them, terribly. I still think about them more often than not and I still talk to them - but my life is continuing. They wouldn't want it to stop just because they're not here. I have to keep reminding myself of that but apparently it's working.
So I move forward. I tackle the stairs, even though I worry I'll fall down them (from that huge wind behind me due to my incredible speed). I pull out the Word document I've had sitting on my computer forever and see where it gets me. I'm hoping the change (no, not THAT change, geezus! I'm only 44) happens quickly. Because I'm ready.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Messages from the Other Side
I have always believed there was something 'after' this life. Some define it as Heaven, some use other terms. I'm a supporter of the Heaven theory myself. With that being said, an extension of my belief is that if there is something more than maybe there is some way to still maintain a connection with those who have passed.
If someone came to me and told me they'd had an experience with their great aunt coming to see them, I'd believe. I think it's possible but when it comes to things happening to me, I'm not always so sure.
I could make this post miles long and describe my experiences but I'm on a painting break and need to make this short and sweet. Instead, I'll give you some high-lights as background to my story.
As a child, I often saw a woman in white standing outside my bedroom doorway, just looking in and smiling. Years later I saw a picture of my father's mother, whom I'm named after and knew it was the same woman. I was never afraid and I never thought it was strange.
In my teens, my mom's mother passed and I experienced her presence in her house the day of her death. I felt her with me and watched as she closed a door. It freaked me out tremendously.
In the mid-90's an uncle I was very close to passed. I had a dream shortly thereafter where I told him I loved him and asked if he was an angel. I can still see that dream vividly in my mind. I firmly believe that was him.
Some time last year, I felt a man's presence in my house. I thought if I turned quickly enough, I would see an older man in an old military uniform. I did not mention this to my kids but my son saw him in my room several times and my daughter felt the same presence. They both told me separately. I don't know who it is but he's been back a few times recently.
I've experienced other things but these are the strongest.
After my mom passed, I did not feel her and it frustrated me. I tried and tried and begged for a sign. A very good friend told me it was most likely my walls and that when I was able to feel her, I would. Yet, I got nothing. And it ticked me off. I did have a friend who made a connection with her. She had a dream that my mom told her to tell me she was okay. I believed that but was still frustrated that she got the contact and not me. Months later I had a dream that my mom called me on a broken pay phone and said, "I've crossed over." Those would be words she would use.
When my dad died last May, I felt different. With my mom, I have not felt her at all. My dad however, seems to be here. I feel his energy. Not all of the time and not often but I do. Shortly after he passed I was half asleep at his house and I heard his voice, clear as day, say my name. Then nothing for some time. Recently I had a dream that I was walking with him and I asked if it was really him and he said yes. I then asked if he could hear me talk to him and he said, "Yes, I hear you." I woke up hoping and doubting that was a visit but I can't help but want it to have been.
I have always been close to my parents. I thought that when they passed, if they could, they would be around. But I wanted to feel them and I really haven't felt them at all. It's not as if I wanted them hanging out with me daily but I wanted to have a sense of them.
Last week two of those expensive energy smart bulbs blew in my kitchen. The next day the microwave sparked and stopped functioning. I was not happy. That week I also joined a website that deals with the metaphysical. I wanted to see if the things I've experienced could be real or just me hoping and wishing. I signed up for a medium to call me and do a reading. The odds were slim I'd get the call but I did. Last night.
As much of a cynic as I am, I had to admit to being freaked at the clarity of it all. He mentioned immediately things that he could have researched and discovered but then he mentioned something that very few people, including my husband knew. If it was my mom and dad, they would have known this but it was not in any way public knowledge.
And he told me that my father has been here messing with my electricity. He said not flicking lights on and off but blowing things up. Yeah, dad owes me a new microwave now. I was sort of floored at that too because he wouldn't have known about it, either.
The medium said two specific things that made me feel he was actually talking to my parents. Things they could not have researched with the limited information they had. How is that possible? I have to have faith that it is. That there really is something else out there and that my parents are still here with me, maybe not all of the time but still here. Goodness, I'll never be able to have sex again! :)
I'm still processing all of the information but I'll work through it. For those that don't believe, I have to say I was taking that route recently but with this, I can't help but think there's something more and maybe, just maybe if we open ourselves up to the possibility, we'll see. Maybe if we break down the walls of doubt, they're there, knocking for us to let them in.
If someone came to me and told me they'd had an experience with their great aunt coming to see them, I'd believe. I think it's possible but when it comes to things happening to me, I'm not always so sure.
I could make this post miles long and describe my experiences but I'm on a painting break and need to make this short and sweet. Instead, I'll give you some high-lights as background to my story.
As a child, I often saw a woman in white standing outside my bedroom doorway, just looking in and smiling. Years later I saw a picture of my father's mother, whom I'm named after and knew it was the same woman. I was never afraid and I never thought it was strange.
In my teens, my mom's mother passed and I experienced her presence in her house the day of her death. I felt her with me and watched as she closed a door. It freaked me out tremendously.
In the mid-90's an uncle I was very close to passed. I had a dream shortly thereafter where I told him I loved him and asked if he was an angel. I can still see that dream vividly in my mind. I firmly believe that was him.
Some time last year, I felt a man's presence in my house. I thought if I turned quickly enough, I would see an older man in an old military uniform. I did not mention this to my kids but my son saw him in my room several times and my daughter felt the same presence. They both told me separately. I don't know who it is but he's been back a few times recently.
I've experienced other things but these are the strongest.
After my mom passed, I did not feel her and it frustrated me. I tried and tried and begged for a sign. A very good friend told me it was most likely my walls and that when I was able to feel her, I would. Yet, I got nothing. And it ticked me off. I did have a friend who made a connection with her. She had a dream that my mom told her to tell me she was okay. I believed that but was still frustrated that she got the contact and not me. Months later I had a dream that my mom called me on a broken pay phone and said, "I've crossed over." Those would be words she would use.
When my dad died last May, I felt different. With my mom, I have not felt her at all. My dad however, seems to be here. I feel his energy. Not all of the time and not often but I do. Shortly after he passed I was half asleep at his house and I heard his voice, clear as day, say my name. Then nothing for some time. Recently I had a dream that I was walking with him and I asked if it was really him and he said yes. I then asked if he could hear me talk to him and he said, "Yes, I hear you." I woke up hoping and doubting that was a visit but I can't help but want it to have been.
I have always been close to my parents. I thought that when they passed, if they could, they would be around. But I wanted to feel them and I really haven't felt them at all. It's not as if I wanted them hanging out with me daily but I wanted to have a sense of them.
Last week two of those expensive energy smart bulbs blew in my kitchen. The next day the microwave sparked and stopped functioning. I was not happy. That week I also joined a website that deals with the metaphysical. I wanted to see if the things I've experienced could be real or just me hoping and wishing. I signed up for a medium to call me and do a reading. The odds were slim I'd get the call but I did. Last night.
As much of a cynic as I am, I had to admit to being freaked at the clarity of it all. He mentioned immediately things that he could have researched and discovered but then he mentioned something that very few people, including my husband knew. If it was my mom and dad, they would have known this but it was not in any way public knowledge.
And he told me that my father has been here messing with my electricity. He said not flicking lights on and off but blowing things up. Yeah, dad owes me a new microwave now. I was sort of floored at that too because he wouldn't have known about it, either.
The medium said two specific things that made me feel he was actually talking to my parents. Things they could not have researched with the limited information they had. How is that possible? I have to have faith that it is. That there really is something else out there and that my parents are still here with me, maybe not all of the time but still here. Goodness, I'll never be able to have sex again! :)
I'm still processing all of the information but I'll work through it. For those that don't believe, I have to say I was taking that route recently but with this, I can't help but think there's something more and maybe, just maybe if we open ourselves up to the possibility, we'll see. Maybe if we break down the walls of doubt, they're there, knocking for us to let them in.
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