Here I Go Again

OK... so... well... my intentions were good. Yesterday I got home and was surfing around wondering how I could kick my own arse into sitting down and writing every day like I used to. Taking that class this spring completely threw my life out of kilter, worst idea ever.

I don't care if it is a return to my partially completed novel, or the memoir I started this spring, renewing my commitment to this blog or actually posting the first thing on my other (and basically so far non existent) blog, "The Graphic Des-winer" in which (the idea was) I pick wines for the quality of their label design then review them and rate the quality of the wine to the quality of the design on the label. I need to do something. I need to be writing. Not just want. Need.

I had been thinking about this all week, and yesterday like magic a post shows up in my Twitter feed. NaBloPoMo. It's a project on BlogHer that started as a goof off  on NaNoWriMo. The goal is to post something to your blog every day for a month. The idea is to get you in the daily writing habit.

Well, everyone knows I am a sucker for a challenge like this, and it was the first day of a new month, so I immediately sign up. At 6pm. On July 1. Before I know it, it's 10 pm, time for bed, and although I have been thinking about what to post I have already missed the very first day of the challenge.

This time, though, I am going to try a new outlook. Rather than saying "I missed the first day, why bother?" I am going to keep going and say "Well, July still has 30 days and that's 30 days of writing, repetition, and habit-making." This will be a very new approach for me, this sort of mind set. I am the world's worst "all or nothing" type person. If I am going to do something, whether it is a job,  a volunteer commitment, taking a class, or just my silly challenges, I am going to do it well. If I can't I won't do it. I won't finish. I will quit if I can't be/do/give 100%. Why bother?

I am not at all suggesting that this is an admirable mindset. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It keeps me from trying and doing a lot of things. It slows me down and stresses me out. It causes me to be unable to shortcut anything.

Now, I am not at all saying shortcuts are good or admirable. However, sometimes doing a light 15 minute quickie cleanup on your office is better than being overwhelmed and not cleaning up at all. Letting things pile up for months because you don't know where to start or don't have the tools (or skills) to organize all the junk and papers that are piling up.

It's just like with my existing non-existent blog. I have to start somewhere, but the fear that my post will be less than great keeps me from posting at all. Meanwhile it's just been sitting there. For almost a year. Waiting on me. Much like this blog has been for months now.

Well, so here we go. I plan to post every day and not just scrap the entire month because I missed July 1 posting. I will use the daily prompts if needed. Also, I will get back into the 100 Word Challenge because I enjoy it. Because I need it. And because those peeps are the closest thing to a writing group I have right now.

I look forward to seeing you all a lot more and hope to have you comment on the things I am writing. I have a lot of fun things planned in my head, most of which I may throw out half-baked just to push myself. Check out the link on the right hand column of my page for more about NaBloPoMo and a blogroll of who is participating. It should be fun!

Confessions

I just recently lost a lot of weight. I do not intend to get into how much, what I weigh, or how I did it. But what I will say is that I lost it all this summer, relatively quickly and it didn't involve surgery (I am too chicken) or becoming a speed-freak. Why bring it up? you might ask. Justifiably so. But there is a reason to my madness.

This isn't a "weight loss" blog, so I don't plan on getting into particulars. Bless all those ladies out there who do. Their courage amazes me. The truth is I am chicken to show before pictures. I am embarrassed to tell my beginning weight. And really? I have just lost it, I haven't maintained it for more than six weeks so I don't consider myself any kind of expert. But what I am? 14 weeks later? I am proud of myself. And I guess in my own little way, I want to let people know that of the million things I didn't accomplish this summer? I got something done that has been on my list for at least 5 years. I was never able to accomplish this much or come this far  no matter how hard I tried. And dammit, I am proud of myself.

I have "sacrificed" all summer long. I have had iron clad willpower. I have sipped on lemon water while everyone else ordered delicious looking menu items.  I missed having 'fair food' at no less than 3 county fairs (possibly a good thing), opting to bring a lunch cooler with me everywhere I went containing the likes of cucumber with mustard chicken, garlic lemon shrimp, sliced apples, and blueberries. I passed up wine at the monthly wine picnics, not to mention all the goodies brought by all my friends. I GAVE UP CHEESE, for the love of Mike!

In retrospect, it really wasn't that hard. Willpower. Food creativity. Sticking to it. Yeah, my stomach growled at me. Yeah, I got really tired of grilled chicken on a spinach salad. Yeah, I could never eat a grapefruit again and be happy. And having to plan every last meal, and needing to know what lunch was so I could get dinner started.  But what was hard? Was accepting in my own brain what was going on. It took me weeks to catch my brain up with where my body was. I'm honestly not sure I am there now.
 
I have been resisting the past several weeks. Fighting an urge to post about my loss and pat myself on the back until today. In the shower (of course), it occurred to me that it just isn't about that. I feel compelled to share this because I am changing. I am happier. I feel good about myself in the longest time. But my brain? Still doesn't get it. After my first 6 weeks' loss (which was really significant), I went into my closet thinking that everything in there probably still fit me. It took a friend saying "Girl, you need to start wearing some skinny clothes" to make me see that it didn't. I literally went through my closet and tried on every single thing until there was a pile of clothes as tall as me needing to be donated or otherwise recycled. Only then did I start getting that it was real. It was happening. People gave me clothes to fit and cover the in-between times. That was 8 weeks ago.  I have put on pair after pair of jeans this week and had to toss them in the new pile of donations. Finally last night, I went through every item in my closet again. Another pile waist high, including most of the clothing that was given to me not two months ago. And still, it is hard for me to grasp.

Don't get me wrong, I am by no means finished with my journey. And I have been so lucky to have support and encouragement from those around me. Specifically my husband, but also my 2 friends Amy and Debbie, who I told when I told no one else, and later from all my friends when it became obvious what I was doing, and most of my family. My mom of course, being who she is, expressed her disapproval of the quick losses in the beginning, waiting to tell me how proud she was until it was obvious I wasn't kidding about it this time.

But this whole process really makes me think about self-perception. When I was thin, in my younger life, I always felt fat. When I was heavy, I never saw how fat I was, I saw myself as bigger than average. And when I was fighting so hard to change, I was utterly unable to see and acknowledge the progress I was making. Even writing this today I can admit that were it not for the hoodie I put on today? The one that wrapped all the way around me? Yeah, I still wouldn't believe how much I had changed. So I started thinking during my shower, maybe it is like that with a lot of things in life. You can make changes in your life, but how long does it take you to "see" them? Or believe them? And accept them? Things like turning your life around, making a decision about a marriage ending or beginning. Accepting or leaving the church. Starting a new career. Moving to a new town and trying to fit in. Is it just a "fake it till you make it" situation?  Life is change. So why does it take us so long to catch up? Or is it just me?

It's Not the Heat, It's the Humidity

So it has been about 2 months since the sudden revelation of what I call, for lack of a better term, my personal manifesto. I set out to put some things on paper, and structure my life so that I achieved both my short and long term goals. I did a super job of sticking to my daily schedule and meeting my deadlines. For about 7 weeks.

Last week that all came to a screeching halt. I do not know why. See, I have one of those minds. I don't think you'd call it one track, but when one thing steps out as an immediate, deadline priority I have trouble working on other things at the same time. I can't work on anything else until that one thing is completed, and my mind is just filled with thoughts and worry about said thing.

Well, something was obsessing me last week. Or I was obsessing about something, I guess would be the proper way to put it. They say it takes 30 days to make a new habit, but I am here to testify that it only takes 1 day to break it. I had a call to interview for a design job and I dropped everything to get my portfolio ready. Even when I tired of working on that stuff, I had to go sit and read or listen to music because I couldn't stop thinking about everything I needed to get done. This is not a good quality.

So, no writing, no walking, no exercising, and no blogging. For a week and now I am so far out of the habit it isn't even funny. So, I guess my training starts all over again. Here's to second chances.

On a personal note, it has been waaaay too hot here for me to even contemplate walking. The humidity is just as unbearable as I remembered it to be. The entire time I was in PA the people there kept telling me how "humid" it got there in the summer. The first couple summers I told them that I didn't think they knew what humid meant. After my fourth summer, I began thinking that maybe it really wasn't that much more humid in the south. Maybe my memory was exaggerating the true extent of the "wall of humidity". Maybe it really was "humid" in PA. Uhhh. No. It really isn't. Not. at. all.

In a Flash of Light

One day last week I decided to walk my normal route, only in reverse. The things I noticed today were different, views different, even which dogs barked at me were different. For the first time -ever- I truly get the fact that a change in scenery really can refresh or reset your mind's eye and allow you to see things in a new way. Even just a new perspective on the same scenery can do the same. My walk seemed to fly by more quickly than usual, and I saw homes I had never noticed before. 

I feel like the last month has been about changing scenery for me. It all started in mid-April. I had been debating for months inside my head as to whether or not I wanted to attend the Southern Kentucky Book Festival, even going so far as to email a writer I know to ask if he had attended it. (He never answered me but that is another subject) I was leaning toward no, but at the very last moment my plans changed, and there I was with my husband enjoying the heck out of hearing these authors read their work and talking to them about the process, frustrations, etc. of writing. It was such an immense (and unexpected) joy for me to be there with others who enjoy reading and writing as much as I do, or more most likely. I realize it sounds ridiculous, but meeting these people in person, chatting with them, hearing about their struggles and insecurities, it really made them seem real. They are real. Real people, like me. Just like me, with one major exception. They, at one point, found the courage to put themselves out there. Raw, naked, bare for the world to see. That is something I have not been able to do. Until now. 

Now, my attitude changes. Now, I know that with determination, persistence, and some hard work I really CAN do anything I want to do and I CAN make a living at it. They did. So can I. I already went back to school at 38 to obtain a graphic design degree and I did it. I love designing, and I impressed myself at being able to have a new career mid-way through my life. What stops me from expanding myself even more?

By the end of that weekend I realized that I am tired of settling for a life that isn't the one I want. I have a wonderful, supportive husband, why can't I also have a career that makes me happy? Why can't I also be a writer? An author. A real, live author? Why can't I call myself a writer? Why can't I put myself out there, just a little bit, take a chance, take some risk to get my reward– The chance at success in something I have always wanted to do, but had forgotten. Yep. My life changed, right then. On April 17, 2010. I will remember the date. I am taking my life back.

• Back from my mom and dad's expectations
• Back from everyone who ever laughed at me or ridiculed me.
• Back from that Bitch inside my head who fills me with self–doubt.
• Back from society's “acceptable” standards.
• Back from the mental compartments I feel that I have to “fit in”.
• Back from my accounting teacher who said I needed a career I could actually get paid in, and that wasn't English or the arts.
• Back from my college advisor who could have cared less if I wanted to change my major from accounting to English and really,     really needed, ya'know, advising.

The only people I listen to now are...well, me! and...

• My steadfast, reassuring, always encouraging husband. 
• My friends who have always encouraged me to write (Kimberly, Laurie, Lori, Debbie)
• My college instructors who always gave me A's on research papers.
• My Toastmaster group, who were so encouraging and loved my stories, convincing me that I am a natual storyteller.
• And Lisa Patton (the author of Whistlin' Dixie in a Nor'easter, not the Nashville weather woman) who told me: “Honey, if I can do it, anyone can do it, and that includes you!” She will never. ever. know what that phrase meant to me. Because even though I heard it a bazillion times, and she probably said it to a bazillion people before me, I knew. That day. That moment. That sunny Saturday afternoon that she, of course, was absolutely right.

April 17, 2010 is my moment. So, this is how I am changing my view, in broad strokes. The particulars will of course remain private to me, but this is fair enough to share.

1. Get a job, any job, so I can quit worrying and obsessing over bills being paid on time.

2. Get my house organized and clean so it can be a refuge, an oasis for me.

3. Take a 30 minute walk every. single. day. to keep my mind fresh and clear.

4. Be truly kind to myself in though, word and deed. (How bad is it that I have never thought to make this a goal?)

5. Eat only what is powerful energy food.

6. Schedule 3 hours per day for writing and designing/creating. Minimum.

7. Appreciate everything I have everyday in every way possible.


So this, my dear friends, is the closest I have ever come to having a long-term goal, a life plan, whatever you want to call it. I just call it vision. Vision of what I really want out of life. I truly have not ever had that before. And although it took me 42 years to get here, I like it. I like the view.