Category Archives: Freeform thoughts

Failure To Launch.

Biggest struggles, Freeform thoughts, In the here & now

meditation

So you know how I love to poke around in the corners of the internet for ideas and concepts that pique my interest or inspire me to try something new?  I came across an article by a lady called Kerry Petsinger, and some of her ideas I really liked. She reckons that you should find ways to love yourself, every day. She even divvied the ideas up into different categories, one of which was spiritual wellness. I’ll come back to the others, because they’re definitely worth exploring, but I like to think I’m quite a spiritual person so that seemed like a good place to start. One of her suggestions was to try meditation.

Now, I love the idea of meditation. Spending quiet contemplative time, mind and body in total harmony, thoughts stilled. Utter calm, the feeling of peace and being at one with myself. When I get really carried away, I imagine myself in flowing robes of soft white linen, with nothing but the sound of trickling water and maybe the odd soft wind chime…the smell of incense…the sensation of floating…I feel so relaxed just thinking about it. The reality is though, I can’t do it. At all. My meditation button seems to be broken and I can’t make it work.

One of two things will happen. I will either fall asleep immediately – I’m not talking about a light meditative trance, I mean I’ll really fall ‘snores and chin dribble’ asleep. That generally happens if I try and meditate in my armchair. If I go the whole hog, light candles, make myself a little sort of area on the floor and strike a meditation pose, my mind will go immediately into overdrive. It doesn’t matter how carefully I prepare everything. Or how artfully I settle myself on the cushion with my fat girl knees arranged in the least painful way possible. Not in a classic meditation pose, I’m not that bendy. But near as dammit.

I’ll make sure that Charlie the dog is otherwise occupied – it’s generally accepted that the floor is his territory, and if you’re at his level, he makes the assumption that it’s playtime. If he was in the same room, within two minutes I’d be surrounded by squeaky toys and as many shoes as he could find, with his wagging tail generating a wind chill factor of ten. So I’ll make sure he’s busy elsewhere. And I’ll sit there, waiting for my mind to empty, and for zen to come flood me with inner peace.

OK zen, I’m ready for you. Ready now. Ready and waiting. Sooo ready. Dammit I forgot to turn off the big light. But that’s ok, it doesn’t matter, my eyes are shut, it’s fine and it doesn’t make a difference. Relax. Just wait. Let your mind float. Zen’s coming soon, I’m ready.

I should have picked a different cushion, this one’s too flat. It’s flatter than an after eight mint and my bum’s going to sleep. Shhh it’s fine. I’ll stop noticing in a minute when the zen comes and takes me to another place. Relax…I’m feeling sleepy…well not sleepy exactly, but I’m ready for the zen.

I wonder if those scented candles will start to smell in a minute…I can’t smell jasmine yet, which is what the label said. Or was it  honeysuckle..? No, that’s a yellow flower…there were definitely white flowers on the box. Hang on though, isn’t jasmine a blue flower? I must have a look later on when I come out of my trance. After the zen’s been.

Maybe if I hum? Maybe that’ll make the zen come. Yes that’s it, I’ll hum. Ommmmmmmmmm. Ommmmmmmmmmm…no I can’t keep that up, it makes my lips tickle. Actually my lips feel a bit dry…should’ve put some lip balm on before I sat down. My back’s aching. And I’ve got pins and needles in my foot. Aw, remember when my boy was little and he thought pins and needles were invisible insects crawling on his feet…bless. No, I’m going to have to move my leg. I wonder if I lean back a bit…aaargh no that’s not helping. 

Oh bugger, I forgot to take those chicken breasts out of the freezer…

And so on…you get the picture. The zen remains elusive. I’ve got my favourite spots obviously where I like to go relax, admire the view. When I’m skinny I love to sit on the beach and hug my knees, gazing out at the ocean…I think I shared the photo with you back near the start of my blog. But that’s not meditation is it, in the true sense of the word? That’s just relaxing by the ocean.

I don’t think it’s that I’m afraid to be alone and at one with my thoughts…I quite enjoy that. But my understanding of meditation is that I’m supposed to be able to empty my mind and be transported to a deep and calm place. That remains decidedly elusive.

Any tips, or are my expectations just way off base..?

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Scratching The Surface

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now,

surface

One of the advantages of being curious about the world in general, and interested in how other folk manage to get – and keep – their shit together, is that there is a wealth of ideas out there about what works and what doesn’t. Some of them are offered up as irrefutable fact, some are just abstract ideas which kind of plant a seed in your head and you can ponder it yourself and start to form a view, and at this time of year particularly there are lots of lists…’the top ten ways to…’ kind of thing, you know the score.

Some of the absolute gems come from people you know who just appear to have it all effortlessly going on – although don’t forget that appearances can be a bit deceptive. One of the most put-together people I thought I knew totally left me hanging when I tried paying her a compliment by telling her how much I admired her. I don’t mean in a weirdo stalker-ish kind of way, I mean I just mentioned in passing that I wished I could emulate the way she dealt with things. Big mistake.

Before I had chance to catch my breath she started unloading all the reasons why she was the wrong person to regard as a role model – picture me standing there, catching all these reasons one by one, as though I’m holding an armful of groceries without a basket to put them in…I felt like a right numpty, I mean what do you say? Cue awkward moment where I wished I’d kept my mouth shut to start with and realisation dawned on her that perhaps she’d over-shared instead of just accepting the compliment.

It did make me think though, about what goes on under the surface you know? The way in which we’re regarded by the world in general isn’t based just on how we look but also on what we choose to show of our character – and to be fair, if you invest time in portraying yourself in a certain light but then shoot the illusion down in flames when someone calls it out, it kind of defeats the object, the above example being a case in point. I’d be more likely to fist-pump the air at the fact I’d pulled off my impersonation of someone cool, calm and in control.

Do you think there’s a direct correlation between what we know and like about ourselves, and the self we choose to share with the outside world? I do…it’s definitely true in my case. I’d love to be able to say that I’m always authentic and honest in the way I interact with other people but if I scratch the surface, I’m so not.

The things about myself that I like, I’ll share freely and openly ’till the cows come home. But it’s a different matter altogether when it comes to revealing things about myself that I don’t like, or which I think don’t present the impression of me that I want people to have. The things I feel ashamed of, or guilty about, or which are character flaws that I wish I didn’t have..? These things you’re likely to find me trying to bury under the patio in the dead of night in the hope that nobody will ever see…or think harshly of me because of them.

And how strange is it that on here, I feel like I can say that freely and yet some of my closest friends wouldn’t know that about me..? I suspect it’s because I think about you guys as my support system, you know? You’re helping me be the best version possible of the authentic me, so it’s ok that you know…after all, I can’t change what I don’t acknowledge, right?

More food for thought 🙂

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The Diet Saboteur

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now, ,

sabotage

I was catching up with a good friend this morning and we were comparing our respective dieting progress in the way that only two fat people can. Do you know what I mean when I say that? I mean, sure you can talk to a skinny string bean friend about how it’s going, and they can nod along, and understand it on an intellectual level – you’re eating less, and trying to move more in the hope that you’ll eventually be able to wear pants which are only expected to accommodate a pair of legs and a bum, instead of holding it in, hoisting it up and making you look at least two sizes smaller than the reality. Your skinny friends will undoubtedly listen, support and encourage but they can’t understand.

Anyway, during the course of our conversation, my friend talked abut something that I’d never really thought about before – she reckons that one of her colleagues at work is doing her level best to actually sabotage her diet. I was outraged of course, on her behalf and I’m sure this woman’s ears must have been burning, wherever she was. But fancy that, someone who would actively look to find ways to make the wheels come off your diet…what an arse! But you know what, now I’ve had my eyes opened to the concept, I can think of someone I used to know who did exactly the same thing.

When I say sabotage, I don’t mean someone who waits until you’re out of the room and quickly lifts the lid of your sandwich to spread an extra layer of butter…it’s a bit more subtle than that. But someone sitting back and observing, making all the right noises whilst getting to know your achilles heel, and then going out of their way to put temptation bang in your path. That’s what I’m talking about. I started thinking about the reasons why someone might do that, because it just strikes me as a really mean thing to do. Insecurities of their own maybe? Fear that you might end up skinnier than them, or maybe they just don’t like the attention that you’re getting…? Hard to tell.

When I think back to the girl I used to hang out with when our boys were small, who, the more I think about it was an out and out diet saboteur, I remember she was always really supportive in the early stages of my latest diet but once the weight started to shift, so did her attitude. It’s like she didn’t like the idea that I was actually going to succeed and go all the way. I wouldn’t even begin to understand her motivation for doing that but even though twenty odd years has passed between then and now, I’d love to go back and ask her.

Her modus operandi was to tell me how good I was looking – even though I was more often than not still at least 40lbs overweight – and challenge whether I really wanted to lose any more..? Perhaps I should have a break for a while and just maintain, after all I was starting to look a bit drawn. You’ve done so well…have some cake. Of course the asshole in my mind was on it like a car bonnet and between the two of them I caved pretty much every time. I think there’s something about stopping before you get to your target weight or size which makes you less inclined to feel the sense of achievement which might just help you stay in that golden place.  So I’d linger in the suburbs of Skinny Town for ten minutes and then hop on the gravy train back to Mooseville. My responsibility of course, but her and the asshole were definitely partners in crime.

It’s a weird feeling to think someone might be deliberately engineering a situation to make you fail. That said, being aware of dieting torpedoes in any shape of form isn’t necessarily a bad thing…it’s just another tool to keep me on my toes. I’m blessed that everybody around me this time are really rooting for me to succeed…but ask me again 100lbs from now ok?

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The Phwoar Factor

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now,

foxSo we all have our own ideas about what we find attractive in members of the opposite sex, right? Personally for example, right now give me a kind octogenarian who’s loaded, has no family on whom to lavish his pots of cash and who wants nothing from me other than the odd game of scrabble and oversight of his nightly meds, and I’d be all over that. Ha ha, joking aside…oh wait a minute that’s right, I’m not joking…boom boom!

But lets imagine that I was…I’ve always been attracted to larger than life, broad shouldered blokes. Beyond that, I’ve never really had a ‘type’, unless you class ‘loser’ as a type…it’s been a definite common denominator amongst the majority of my significant others. But in terms of looks, I’ve never been that bothered. Provided they kept a watching brief on the nose and ear hair situation and had a good level of personal hygiene, from a physical perspective that was about the extent of my wish list.

I’d say that on the whole blokes are more visual creatures than females though, and most blokes would be able to articulate in far more detail than you might expect, the kind of woman they are attracted to. And that usually includes a body shape within a certain height/weight ratio.

Whilst I was out for dinner over the weekend with one of my closest friends, he posed an interesting question – being a fan of the curvaceous female form himself, he wanted to know whether, if I was with a partner who found skinny unattractive, would I still be hell bent on reaching skinny town?  And it was a really hard question to answer. I’m dieting for me. I’m the one who finds being fat unattractive…skinny is the body shape I like best, on me. I’m a single girl through choice so it’s fairly straightforward, but what if?

What if down the line I did meet someone and fall madly in love, and it transpired that their ‘perfect woman’ body shape was at the end of the spectrum that I’m at now..? It’d be the ultimate bloody irony, but would I immediately head for the pie shop with a wad of cash? I’ve definitely been conscious in the past of maintaining a particular body shape to please someone other than myself.

One bloke in particular who I fell for in a big way was a real fitness hound, and was completely turned off by the idea of fat girls, so in the knowledge that if I didn’t stay skinny he’d disappear in a cloud of dust, I kept the weight off for around a year…my longest ever stint in Skinny Town. As things turned out, it was my feet that generated the dust when I realised he had spawned the daughters from hell. It would be  inappropriate for me to go into detail, but I’ll just put the words bunny and cooking pot out there, and leave the rest to your imagination.

Getting back to the point though, in theory, if you love someone, or someone loves you, and it’s true love, body shape shouldn’t really come into it. But I don’t think it’s as simple as that. You do hear of people walking away from their partners for a younger or skinnier alternative, and actually, even more so the other way around…newly skinny confident minnies leaving their long term partners and going for an upgrade. So the whole issue of gaining and losing weight throws up some interesting questions within the boundaries of a relationship.

Not something I need to worry about, but to answer my friend’s question, I’m thinking no…the asshole in my mind would go batshit crazy of course, and bang the pie-eating drum incessantly, but I’m at that stage in my life where I know what I want, and I’m going after it. I want to be skinny, for me…and at the end of the day I’m the only one I have to worry about 🙂

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Programming The Roots

Freeform thoughts, In the here & now,

Tree-with-Roots

There was an article in the paper over last weekend, about the fact that for some folk, the craving for junk food is in their genes, hard-wired into their body if you like. As always with pieces like this, my first instinct is to fold my arms, nod profusely and say ‘I told you so‘ to anyone who’ll listen. Then I remember I’m over making excuses, and come back down to earth with a bump.

I’m always curious to know whether this is journalistic license, or whether the smarts who churn out these theories genuinely think it’s so, but either way you know me well enough by now to realise where I spy an opportunity to take the piss out of the more outlandish ones, I’ll take full advantage.

It’s a funny one is this though, when you think about it. There is something in the fact that your attitude, thoughts and feelings about food are kind of hardwired into you – I’m not sure it’s genetic, although I’ve definitely referred to it in the past as being part of my DNA, which boils down to the same thing – on reflection I think as something that’s at the root of my whole belief system, if it’s hard-wired anywhere, it has to be in my psyche. And I even understand why…see, all those sessions with the hookie spooky lady didn’t go to waste.

When I think back to all the food related messages I got from my mum in my formative years, they all involved eating everything on my plate, leave stuff and there’ll be no pudding (which as a two year old with a sweet tooth was the equivalent of my world ending) not to mention the starving children in Africa who would be grateful for the meal I might be trying to get out of eating. K mentioned on the blog last Saturday that she’d had similar emotionally driven messages from her Grandfather…I think we’ve all been there.

And my mum’s answer to anything from a skinned knee to a fall-out with a friend involved eating something to make me feel better so again, it’s how I learned to cope with anything that hurt. I’m not blaming my mum per se…there comes a point as an adult where you take responsibility for your own shit you know? All I’m saying is that if I’d grown up hearing you can have some of that but too much of it is bad for you, or food is the fuel that makes your body work but make sure you only eat ’till you’re full, the stuff baked into my psyche might have been slightly less destructive than it’s turned out to be.

There was a great response to the article from a bloke in the states which I took the liberty of pinching to share with you…

“I am hardwired to want fat and sugar, (really, who isn’t?) but I developed my own software (willpower) to govern it. The more you use your software, the easier it becomes.”

He’s not wrong! That is such a great way of looking at it I was compelled to adopt it immediately. A tekkie friend of mine once told me that software was the bit you plugged into the hardware to make the hardware do what you wanted it to do. So that being the case, no matter how far down in my roots those beliefs reside, I have the software to re-programme them, and so do you.

Anyone seen the manual lying around..?

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