I read an article/blog this week on about Feeling Stuck . In it, Ms. Dunn talks about an exercise to break you out of your stuckness. (My blog, my made up words.) She says to sit down for 20 minutes and write about what you want to do, who you want to meet, careers you want to have, etc.
I laughed out loud. I've done this "exercise" unknowingly for the last 30 years. For 15 of those, I would've knocked out 100 things on my list in way under the allotted time. Over the last 10 plus, I might struggle to get to 5. Maybe it's just the place I am in life. The hope I had as a teenager has turned to a mix of cynicism and realism. I miss that girl. She had life. Pizazz. She knew there was a great life ahead of her and couldn't wait to get to it. Vivacious. I'm glad this me wasn't around to squash her. It's nice to be optimistic and not only hope, but know there is better ahead. This time will pass and the good things will come. If that me could see the way life turned out, I'd be crushed to watch the light in her eyes explode into millions of pieces to be left by the black hole of hopelessness.
I decided to try again. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I could come up with those things given the focus and time. I set a timer. I sat down and when the ding rang out my page was empty. There's something to be said for knowing yourself, even when it's disappointing. The career thoughts have been replaced by the knowledge that the time and money to get there are improbable in my current life. (Yes, I know about student loans. The thought of taking on more debt and TONS of it is not in the cards. Neither are the years without income to get it done. Even class by class while working would take creative scheduling and about as many years as I have until retirement. A career has never been a want of mine.) There are no people I am even remotely interested in meeting.
The what I want is interesting. I am sure there ARE things I want, just not sure what they are...especially in 20 minutes. The things that come to mind have eluded me and any remaining hope I had for them in my life flickered out this year. I have let them go. What remains is the wreckage of a ship, drifting along in the direction the tide takes it. Unable to adjust, it floats along, bearing the storms to stay adrift no longer caring if it gets where it was once headed. Just ebbing and flowing until it finally comes to rest.
They say life is about the journey. I can't worry anymore about the destination. I don't have it in me. In the week since I tried to un-stick myself, I have found 2 things to add to the list. I'm keeping it up on the fridge, hoping more comes to mind. If I ever get to 100, I'll let you know. Right now I'm just going where the tide takes me.
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Vega-Vita-whateverIam
A year ago at around Valentine's Day I decided to give up meat. There was no epiphany. No ASPCA/PETA moment of aha love of animals. No growing of the armhairs, not showering stuff. It unfolded in a slow deterioration of "this is too hard".
If you have to point to an "aha" moment it was 7th grade science class. We dissected chicken breasts. Out of a container. From the same grocery where my mom bought her chicken breasts. The light bulb went off as to what I was actually eating because I had to pull out and anatomically label every last bit of my "food". I ate very little chicken after that. Ever. And that's what it boils down to when all is said and done. If I eat food and it reminds me where it came from I can't eat it anymore. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm cerebral.
Back to Valentine's Day 2014. I decided maybe I'd like meat more if I ate the "good stuff". I went to Whole Foods. Bought a grass-fed, organic, blah, blah, blah roast. Feeling proud of myself, I took it home and crock pot'd that sucker. It smelled wonderful. I took it out after the allotted time. It was full of stuff I had to cut out b/c it reminded me of where it came from...and it was the toughest roast I ever tried to eat. I choked down a dinner's worth, but by the end was having trouble even swallowing it thinking about what I'd cut out. Most of the expensive, "good stuff" roast ended up in the garbage. I lamented to my mother how hard it was to force myself to eat meat. Me - "It's not like I can eat beans and rice for the rest of my life!" Mom - "why not? Lots of people do."
*cue the heavenly aha moment music*
So, I decided to ride the beans and rice wave where it took me. Here I am, almost 1 year later. Sure I had some corned beef on St. Patty's Day and what would a baseball game be without a hot dog. And sometimes, well, a veggie burger just isn't gonna cut it. I'd say the meat days over the last year total between 5-10. I eat a lot of the same things at home and love when restaurants offer veggie options that go beyond pasta and salad. I could spend EONS talking about foods I don't eat and why (some of them to my sister's anti-bodily function talk chagrin), but this one bears some repeating.
And, repeating. And repeating. I became that person. I've said the phrase "I don't eat meat" more times then even I'm comfortable with. When you are almost 40 and *voila* give up meat, it takes a bit of explaining - to friends, family (no, Mom and Dad, the Turkey Burger isn't a no-meat option) and to my high school kids who can't fathom a life with no McDonald's. I refrain from "Vegetarian" because I have no moral objection to meat and will eat it if I must. I just mostly don't. It's harder, I think, for people to grasp that I just don't like it. They'd rather I had a moral objection. Maybe that's my almost 40 year old epiphany. I'm just gonna stop doing things I don't like, if I can. Bring on the beans and rice!
If you have to point to an "aha" moment it was 7th grade science class. We dissected chicken breasts. Out of a container. From the same grocery where my mom bought her chicken breasts. The light bulb went off as to what I was actually eating because I had to pull out and anatomically label every last bit of my "food". I ate very little chicken after that. Ever. And that's what it boils down to when all is said and done. If I eat food and it reminds me where it came from I can't eat it anymore. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm cerebral.
Back to Valentine's Day 2014. I decided maybe I'd like meat more if I ate the "good stuff". I went to Whole Foods. Bought a grass-fed, organic, blah, blah, blah roast. Feeling proud of myself, I took it home and crock pot'd that sucker. It smelled wonderful. I took it out after the allotted time. It was full of stuff I had to cut out b/c it reminded me of where it came from...and it was the toughest roast I ever tried to eat. I choked down a dinner's worth, but by the end was having trouble even swallowing it thinking about what I'd cut out. Most of the expensive, "good stuff" roast ended up in the garbage. I lamented to my mother how hard it was to force myself to eat meat. Me - "It's not like I can eat beans and rice for the rest of my life!" Mom - "why not? Lots of people do."
*cue the heavenly aha moment music*
So, I decided to ride the beans and rice wave where it took me. Here I am, almost 1 year later. Sure I had some corned beef on St. Patty's Day and what would a baseball game be without a hot dog. And sometimes, well, a veggie burger just isn't gonna cut it. I'd say the meat days over the last year total between 5-10. I eat a lot of the same things at home and love when restaurants offer veggie options that go beyond pasta and salad. I could spend EONS talking about foods I don't eat and why (some of them to my sister's anti-bodily function talk chagrin), but this one bears some repeating.
And, repeating. And repeating. I became that person. I've said the phrase "I don't eat meat" more times then even I'm comfortable with. When you are almost 40 and *voila* give up meat, it takes a bit of explaining - to friends, family (no, Mom and Dad, the Turkey Burger isn't a no-meat option) and to my high school kids who can't fathom a life with no McDonald's. I refrain from "Vegetarian" because I have no moral objection to meat and will eat it if I must. I just mostly don't. It's harder, I think, for people to grasp that I just don't like it. They'd rather I had a moral objection. Maybe that's my almost 40 year old epiphany. I'm just gonna stop doing things I don't like, if I can. Bring on the beans and rice!
Wednesday, January 07, 2015
It's Fricken Freezing, Mr Bigglesworth
It's cold. Not just "Hey put on a jacket" cold, but "run to the car before your nose freezes and shatters" cold. Every Winter I re-evaluate why I live in the Northeast. I'm not a cold weather person. Snow is pretty, but the pretty lasts about 5 minutes after it stops. Then the snow shovels, plows, snow blowers, salt trucks, etc come out and it's just a hassle.
Maybe it's a reminder to the world to slow down. Drive slower, appreciate life. Whatever. I slow down to almost not moving at all. In fact, I stay in bed for waaay too long. I lounge around under blankets on my couch when I'm awake b/c frankly, it's too darn cold to move.
I'm a really good summer person. Productive, fun, happy. Stands to reason I should live somewhere "summery" almost year round. But I don't. This is where I was born, where we moved back to live and be surrounded by family. Where I got tired of running and put down roots to try and keep myself in one place. Where I have no backed myself into a financial and practical place, so even if I wanted to run "warm", I can't.
So, I'll snuggle into my blankets. Enjoy the down time with the urchins. Go with the slower pace of my life in the winter being unproductive and borderline hibernating. Stay warm, my friends.
Maybe it's a reminder to the world to slow down. Drive slower, appreciate life. Whatever. I slow down to almost not moving at all. In fact, I stay in bed for waaay too long. I lounge around under blankets on my couch when I'm awake b/c frankly, it's too darn cold to move.
I'm a really good summer person. Productive, fun, happy. Stands to reason I should live somewhere "summery" almost year round. But I don't. This is where I was born, where we moved back to live and be surrounded by family. Where I got tired of running and put down roots to try and keep myself in one place. Where I have no backed myself into a financial and practical place, so even if I wanted to run "warm", I can't.
So, I'll snuggle into my blankets. Enjoy the down time with the urchins. Go with the slower pace of my life in the winter being unproductive and borderline hibernating. Stay warm, my friends.
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