Sunday, March 6, 2011
Writers as Characters in Stories
Why do writers so often write about writers? Well, in part, I’m sure it’s because writers like writers. But I think it’s more than that. Consciously or not, doesn’t everyone see themselves as a writer, at least hypothetically? There’s something we’d all like to put on paper, to immortalize, some piece of ourselves. And, even if we don’t devote ourselves to the pursuit of that goal, it’s in the back of our minds. It’s easy to connect to the concept of being a writer. What a fantasy it is in and of itself, to imagine creating a fantasy – even one based on the realities of life. Whether it be to escape from the bitterness of the experience by putting it into the abstract realm of stories or to voice an injustice that has gone unseen, we all have something to write about. Do you agree?
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Pure Romance
Here begins a self-indulgent project I will be posting in serial-form, if I end up being self-disciplined enough to continue to produce on a regular basis. It will be posted in rough draft. Feel free to ask any questions it raises for you and to point out any mistakes. Thanks!
As I lay in bed, slowly drifting into that most sacred state of sleep, my mind came to the subject of my life. What would be the defining theme? I flash on childhood, somewhere around five or six years old. Life was more frightening, more magical, and more exciting. I picture myself sitting on the cold open-concept steps leading up to the second floor of our tiny Van Nuys apartment building, holding my vinyl ET doll. It, like all the others I had, was alive to me. I was sure if I didn’t give it appropriate attention and if I ever said anything bad about it or looked at it wrong, it would hurt me somehow in my sleep. And yet, I loved my dolls to the point of pain. They all had unique personalities and, if any one of them ever went missing, I would mourn. They, like no breathing persons in my life, truly understood me. They liked me and saw when I was hurting and when I was happy, even if the adults in my life were too busy to care or notice. Life was a great romance, even though I didn’t yet know to define it that way. Back then, the romance of which I speak was a quiet ache in my chest that could send out bursts of hot energy into the sky, or at least, that’s how it felt. It took years to understand my relationship with my own personal concept of romance. It’s taken me until now to see it as the running theme of my life.
In fifth grade, though I still had the dolls, my relationship with romance had moved more toward inner dialogue. At school during recess, I revelled to go to the large grassy slope where kids weren’t allowed to play. The kids weren’t allowed to play there because the yard supervision felt it was dangerous to roll down the hill. But I didn’t want to roll down. I wanted to play in isolation, where I could forget there were other people in the world. I would walk down just far enough that, if I were to sit on the slope, my head would fall beneath the crest of the hill and I could remain unseen. I’d find rocks in the grass and pull them out of the ground to see the caves they created. I imagined little families of cave people lived there. I made grass beds for them and imagined their lives together in this remote part of the uncharted earth. The days I remembered to wear my red sweatshirt, another of my favourite games, also played in this same isolated area, was to tuck myself entirely inside my sweatshirt and watch the sunlight shine through the redness of the sweater. From inside, I pretended I was in my mother’s womb watching the sunlight shine through her skin on me. The peacefulness of imagining that was unmatched anywhere else in my life at the time. If I’d had a chance to spend time in the “womb,” I’d return to class in a blissful state of mental separation from any frightening, intrusive forces that were other kids and their unpredictable thoughtlessness and stupidity. On the days the yard supervisor caught me on the hill and told me I couldn’t play there, I felt robbed of that bubble of security.
Yes, a sensitive child was I with high expectations of those around me that were usually unmet. That’s why, when I would meet someone who seemed able to read my mind and empathize with my every hurt or joy, the euphoria of it was mind numbing. In sixth grade, amidst moving to a new school for the sixth time – half way through the year, as per usual – and amidst my first real experience with bullies, I was reacquainted with a cute boy named Michael who would happily spend time with me and indulge me in my silly imaginings and games. I made up a board game that was based on intuition and feelings. It was a game that had no logical rules to follow. Yet, when Michael and I played it, we anticipated each other’s moves and followed the “rules” exactly. That was extremely romantic to me, sharing an intimate understanding of another person and having it reciprocated. Of course, at the time, I didn’t understand it the way I do today. It created as much fear in me as it did exultation, because I didn’t know how to voice what I wanted from the experience and I was afraid it might be asking too much to experience it again. This was the beginning of my search to connect to the depths of my soul with other people every chance I got. My dance with the romantic notion of the perfect emotional experience began. And, though I understand it better today and know its limits, I have to admit, it’s still a thing of precious worth. It is so dear to my heart and so addictive, it can blind me to all else while I experience it, on those rare occasions. Certainly, this is the ever budding theme of my life. How has it landed me here? I’ll tell you.
As I lay in bed, slowly drifting into that most sacred state of sleep, my mind came to the subject of my life. What would be the defining theme? I flash on childhood, somewhere around five or six years old. Life was more frightening, more magical, and more exciting. I picture myself sitting on the cold open-concept steps leading up to the second floor of our tiny Van Nuys apartment building, holding my vinyl ET doll. It, like all the others I had, was alive to me. I was sure if I didn’t give it appropriate attention and if I ever said anything bad about it or looked at it wrong, it would hurt me somehow in my sleep. And yet, I loved my dolls to the point of pain. They all had unique personalities and, if any one of them ever went missing, I would mourn. They, like no breathing persons in my life, truly understood me. They liked me and saw when I was hurting and when I was happy, even if the adults in my life were too busy to care or notice. Life was a great romance, even though I didn’t yet know to define it that way. Back then, the romance of which I speak was a quiet ache in my chest that could send out bursts of hot energy into the sky, or at least, that’s how it felt. It took years to understand my relationship with my own personal concept of romance. It’s taken me until now to see it as the running theme of my life.
In fifth grade, though I still had the dolls, my relationship with romance had moved more toward inner dialogue. At school during recess, I revelled to go to the large grassy slope where kids weren’t allowed to play. The kids weren’t allowed to play there because the yard supervision felt it was dangerous to roll down the hill. But I didn’t want to roll down. I wanted to play in isolation, where I could forget there were other people in the world. I would walk down just far enough that, if I were to sit on the slope, my head would fall beneath the crest of the hill and I could remain unseen. I’d find rocks in the grass and pull them out of the ground to see the caves they created. I imagined little families of cave people lived there. I made grass beds for them and imagined their lives together in this remote part of the uncharted earth. The days I remembered to wear my red sweatshirt, another of my favourite games, also played in this same isolated area, was to tuck myself entirely inside my sweatshirt and watch the sunlight shine through the redness of the sweater. From inside, I pretended I was in my mother’s womb watching the sunlight shine through her skin on me. The peacefulness of imagining that was unmatched anywhere else in my life at the time. If I’d had a chance to spend time in the “womb,” I’d return to class in a blissful state of mental separation from any frightening, intrusive forces that were other kids and their unpredictable thoughtlessness and stupidity. On the days the yard supervisor caught me on the hill and told me I couldn’t play there, I felt robbed of that bubble of security.
Yes, a sensitive child was I with high expectations of those around me that were usually unmet. That’s why, when I would meet someone who seemed able to read my mind and empathize with my every hurt or joy, the euphoria of it was mind numbing. In sixth grade, amidst moving to a new school for the sixth time – half way through the year, as per usual – and amidst my first real experience with bullies, I was reacquainted with a cute boy named Michael who would happily spend time with me and indulge me in my silly imaginings and games. I made up a board game that was based on intuition and feelings. It was a game that had no logical rules to follow. Yet, when Michael and I played it, we anticipated each other’s moves and followed the “rules” exactly. That was extremely romantic to me, sharing an intimate understanding of another person and having it reciprocated. Of course, at the time, I didn’t understand it the way I do today. It created as much fear in me as it did exultation, because I didn’t know how to voice what I wanted from the experience and I was afraid it might be asking too much to experience it again. This was the beginning of my search to connect to the depths of my soul with other people every chance I got. My dance with the romantic notion of the perfect emotional experience began. And, though I understand it better today and know its limits, I have to admit, it’s still a thing of precious worth. It is so dear to my heart and so addictive, it can blind me to all else while I experience it, on those rare occasions. Certainly, this is the ever budding theme of my life. How has it landed me here? I’ll tell you.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Meals
I just spoke with my trainer today, who is enthusiastic about my results so she shared a diet plan with me. Hee hee. What I’ve been eating for the past few months isn’t quite as strict as her plan, but it’s pretty close. So I thought, instead of sharing some haphazard eating plan that I’ve been using, why not share a plan put together by a university-educated athlete trainer instead, especially since it is pretty close to what I’ve been doing anyway!
She explained this is a diet plan for someone who is working out regularly; to make sure you’re getting the nutrition you need to keep up with your workouts. So, the portions would depend on your personal activity level and weight loss goals.
Between 7am and 9am
Eat one lean protein from the following list and one carb from the following list. If you are working out pretty hard that day and you prefer a heartier breakfast, you may add a second carb.
Eggs, chicken, turkey, tuna, salmon, ground turkey or chicken
Lean beef or ground beef once per week only
Multigrain bread/toast, whole grain or steel cut oats, high-fibre organic cereal (no sugar added), any vegetable (veggies are carbs too), sweet potato, whole grain pasta, whole grain rice
11am
Fruit as a snack
12pm-2pm
Two carbs from above list plus lean protein from above list
3pm-5pm
Afternoon snack of nuts, yogurt, or veggies
6pm-8pm
One green veggie carb and lean protein from above list
If you have the inclination to snack after dinner before bed, try to eat your dinner a little later and drink unsweetened green tea or herbal tea to give yourself “something.” Try to avoid snacking after dinner. No starchy carbs after 4pm.
Allowed drinks list:
Water, milk, green/herbal tea, V-8
I’m about to get more strict with myself and follow this diet. But I did lose weight being less strict with myself. Just get started! One step at a time! If it keeps you going, have the occasional dessert or glass of red wine. Don’t feel bad about it. Keep moving! You can do it! Share your experiences with me? Who worked out today, even if it was difficult to work it into their schedule? Who ate a really good breakfast or lunch today even though they wanted to just eat donuts? Tell me about it! I want to know!
Also, this is just from memory, so when the trainer prints out a copy for me, I’ll make any necessary adjustments.
She explained this is a diet plan for someone who is working out regularly; to make sure you’re getting the nutrition you need to keep up with your workouts. So, the portions would depend on your personal activity level and weight loss goals.
Between 7am and 9am
Eat one lean protein from the following list and one carb from the following list. If you are working out pretty hard that day and you prefer a heartier breakfast, you may add a second carb.
Eggs, chicken, turkey, tuna, salmon, ground turkey or chicken
Lean beef or ground beef once per week only
Multigrain bread/toast, whole grain or steel cut oats, high-fibre organic cereal (no sugar added), any vegetable (veggies are carbs too), sweet potato, whole grain pasta, whole grain rice
11am
Fruit as a snack
12pm-2pm
Two carbs from above list plus lean protein from above list
3pm-5pm
Afternoon snack of nuts, yogurt, or veggies
6pm-8pm
One green veggie carb and lean protein from above list
If you have the inclination to snack after dinner before bed, try to eat your dinner a little later and drink unsweetened green tea or herbal tea to give yourself “something.” Try to avoid snacking after dinner. No starchy carbs after 4pm.
Allowed drinks list:
Water, milk, green/herbal tea, V-8
I’m about to get more strict with myself and follow this diet. But I did lose weight being less strict with myself. Just get started! One step at a time! If it keeps you going, have the occasional dessert or glass of red wine. Don’t feel bad about it. Keep moving! You can do it! Share your experiences with me? Who worked out today, even if it was difficult to work it into their schedule? Who ate a really good breakfast or lunch today even though they wanted to just eat donuts? Tell me about it! I want to know!
Also, this is just from memory, so when the trainer prints out a copy for me, I’ll make any necessary adjustments.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
One Step at a Time
The purpose of this blog is not, primarily, to inform, for I’m sure most – if not all – of what I have to “tell” is pretty common knowledge (or at least easy to find elsewhere). I’m sure you’ll all agree there’s a big difference between knowing something and doing it. So the purpose of this blog is to remind, motivate and encourage people who, like me, want to do good things for their minds and bodies and want peers to share the experience with!
With that said, I will begin with where I started. Perhaps it will be a good starting point for you! The first thing I did that began this current journey of losing weight and feeling better was I found a web site that counted calories for me. I wanted to know what I was eating. I am not promoting perfect adherence to calorie counting. But I found it very helpful to get a good idea about what is in various foods I was eating and how much someone of my age, weight and activity level should healthfully eat when trying to lose a little weight. I recommend livestrong.com. They have a free service that calculates the amount of calories you should eat depending on how fast you want to lose or gain weight and a very easy-to-use program for tracking what you're eating.
The next thing I did was I chose a work out DVD and tool kit by Bally’s and decided to make myself do it! You can find a wide selection at Walmart. It only cost about $30-40, and it got me excited and feeling confident I could do this thing! Never mind it took me several months to actually open the thing and start using it! Ha ha ha!
What's your biggest weakness? This time mine was eating way too much junk food for comfort. When I started working out, the exercise replaced my need for comfort eating. I was showing healthy love for myself by exercising and my mind recognized it, which made it easy to stop eating junk. Could it work for you too? Dunno! I'd love to find out.
If even the cost of the DVD/workout tool kit is too much, something else I did that can be free to you is following the simple interval workout recommended by a fitness instructor Dr. Mercola promotes. It's very simple and can be used with any cardio exercise that is workable for you. Take, for example, running/jogging.
This is how it works: Jog for about 5 minutes to warm up. Then, run as fast as you can for 30 seconds. Next, continue jogging at a steady but less intense pace for 90 seconds. Then repeat 7 more times. By the last couple sets, your heart rate should reach the desired bpm, which is what will trigger your body to respond to the exercise. Best part is, it can take less than thirty minutes...and it was free! Can you do that twice a week? If you try it, tell me about it!
Next...meals.
Friday, February 11, 2011
What I've Been Doing
My goal for this post is to create a brief overview of what I've been doing to lose weight, increase cardiac health and tone up! I have another blog that I plan to begin writing regularly, if I can discipline myself to do it.
I will be having another fitness reassessment in a few weeks. At that time, I am going to post my original measurements and test results along with my current ones. In the mean time, I have some numbers to share.
I started at a size 16, which was my personal biggest ever. I actually gained weight after Charlie was born. I allowed myself to shamelessly eat over 3000 calories a day because of all the stressors in my life at the time - money, travel, children, sickness, death, moving (twice in six months), new baby, etc. I think that's enough to justify it for a bit. lol.
I finally couldn't stand it anymore. I've wanted to have a gym membership again for years. I always viewed it as a luxury and we don't usually have any "extra" funds to spend on luxuries on a regular basis. But I was living in a tiny, one-bedroom attic on top of an elderly lady's house, was getting no sleep at all (literally) because we all shared a room and woke each other up all through the night over and over. I was responsible to get everyone back to sleep so that the money-maker could get some sleep and keep us fed. I was mentally slow, emotionally uncontrolled (more than usual for me - which is saying a lot), unhappy, tired and eating out of control. So, when I was at the Booster Juice (Ontario's version of Jamba Juice) and a gym employee approached me with a special scratch card and I "won" a free 1 month membership, fitness assessment, and 2 free personal training sessions, I thought, "YES! YES! YES! Gimmee!!"
Since I was so desperate and David was visibly anxious about my state of health and fitness, it was easy to get him to agree to my getting a membership. I also paid for a small 6-session group of personal training sessions. We broke them up into 30-minute sessions to make them last longer. I was very fortunate to be put with a trainer who is a real athlete. She's been competing in ice skating for ten years or more. She's so great! I'm hoping to get her to let me take a picture so I can post it.
At first my only real goal was to get more oxygen pumping to my brain. I couldn't think straight and my brain is my most precious possession. I wasn't aware of just what I really looked like until I went into a pilates class and saw I was the biggest person in there. I kept seeing other people that I thought were heavy and then seeing us next to each other in the mirror and realizing I was bigger than they were!!
Once I started doing the intense cardio a couple days a week, I was more motivated to eat better. So, I reduced my calorie intake. I started eating unsweetened whey protein shakes with unsweetened almond milk and fruit, whole grain and multi-grain bread, lots of veggies sticks, a little cheese, lean meat. I continued to eat about 6 small meals a day (cause I seem to need to - my blood sugar fluctuates too much). I stopped allowing myself to gorge myself on sugary snack foods into the wee hours of the night, which was probably the biggest difference. I started taking greens again, being more regular with supplementing my EFAs and high-potency B-vitamins, drinking water heavily.
After about 4-5 months, I was down to a size 10 and decided it was time to add strength training. I am currently working out 4-5 days a week - cardio and weights. My body is changing on a weekly basis! It feels so great!
Hope this wasn't monstrously long. I'll be more detailed as to work out routines, meals and supplements in my fitness blog. I'm hoping to try different things, express my experience with them, etc. Don't know how interesting it will be to the population at large, but it'll probably be pretty therapeutic for me.
Thanks for caring! More soon!
I will be having another fitness reassessment in a few weeks. At that time, I am going to post my original measurements and test results along with my current ones. In the mean time, I have some numbers to share.
I started at a size 16, which was my personal biggest ever. I actually gained weight after Charlie was born. I allowed myself to shamelessly eat over 3000 calories a day because of all the stressors in my life at the time - money, travel, children, sickness, death, moving (twice in six months), new baby, etc. I think that's enough to justify it for a bit. lol.
I finally couldn't stand it anymore. I've wanted to have a gym membership again for years. I always viewed it as a luxury and we don't usually have any "extra" funds to spend on luxuries on a regular basis. But I was living in a tiny, one-bedroom attic on top of an elderly lady's house, was getting no sleep at all (literally) because we all shared a room and woke each other up all through the night over and over. I was responsible to get everyone back to sleep so that the money-maker could get some sleep and keep us fed. I was mentally slow, emotionally uncontrolled (more than usual for me - which is saying a lot), unhappy, tired and eating out of control. So, when I was at the Booster Juice (Ontario's version of Jamba Juice) and a gym employee approached me with a special scratch card and I "won" a free 1 month membership, fitness assessment, and 2 free personal training sessions, I thought, "YES! YES! YES! Gimmee!!"
Since I was so desperate and David was visibly anxious about my state of health and fitness, it was easy to get him to agree to my getting a membership. I also paid for a small 6-session group of personal training sessions. We broke them up into 30-minute sessions to make them last longer. I was very fortunate to be put with a trainer who is a real athlete. She's been competing in ice skating for ten years or more. She's so great! I'm hoping to get her to let me take a picture so I can post it.
At first my only real goal was to get more oxygen pumping to my brain. I couldn't think straight and my brain is my most precious possession. I wasn't aware of just what I really looked like until I went into a pilates class and saw I was the biggest person in there. I kept seeing other people that I thought were heavy and then seeing us next to each other in the mirror and realizing I was bigger than they were!!
Once I started doing the intense cardio a couple days a week, I was more motivated to eat better. So, I reduced my calorie intake. I started eating unsweetened whey protein shakes with unsweetened almond milk and fruit, whole grain and multi-grain bread, lots of veggies sticks, a little cheese, lean meat. I continued to eat about 6 small meals a day (cause I seem to need to - my blood sugar fluctuates too much). I stopped allowing myself to gorge myself on sugary snack foods into the wee hours of the night, which was probably the biggest difference. I started taking greens again, being more regular with supplementing my EFAs and high-potency B-vitamins, drinking water heavily.
After about 4-5 months, I was down to a size 10 and decided it was time to add strength training. I am currently working out 4-5 days a week - cardio and weights. My body is changing on a weekly basis! It feels so great!
Hope this wasn't monstrously long. I'll be more detailed as to work out routines, meals and supplements in my fitness blog. I'm hoping to try different things, express my experience with them, etc. Don't know how interesting it will be to the population at large, but it'll probably be pretty therapeutic for me.
Thanks for caring! More soon!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
It's Not the Only Thing on my Mind - I Promise
As I began to type this up for public consumption, I realized this seems to be the topic I've written about most. I hope not to seem redundant. I do have other thoughts and feelings about other subjects. It occurs to me, however, that none are as complete or beautiful as these, for now. So, I will type this up before a bout of self-doubt sneaks up on me and I hold back.
The fact that my dad is gone is becoming more real and, somehow, less devastating. It is still sad, but it's more of a muted sadness. His dear widow sent me a box full of some of his clothes, some pictures of us together and a small trinket gift I once game him. Looking through the things and recognizing them reminds me of being a child in those first layers of sleep when you're still consciously aware of some noises and movement. I hear some milling about and soft laughter. Adults converse around me, maybe at a gathering. The sounds are distant even though I have the sense that I'm still in the same room with them. I'm separated from them and yet still a part of everything. It's comforting.
This kind of experience in the realm of reality was one of my favorite kinds of experiences. I used to nap while at the homes of friends and, occasionally, when I had company over myself. Fortunately, my company seemed to understand.
There is some longing to be a part of the happy conversation and activities, but the blissful tiredness is overtaking me, and I instead fall deeper into sleep. I suppose, at some point, there is a choice to be made. Will I wake myself up to the clarity of the memories and pain so that I may more fully experience them and keep them alive and fresh, or will I let myself fall asleep and move on? I still have some time to decide. But, for the moment, all is more sweet than bitter.
It amazes me how closed the door was to my own experience of this before everything happened. It's amazing what empathy I was closed off from for other people without having experienced this piece of imperfect life for myself. The door to connection with so many more people is opened to me now. For that, I am grateful.
The fact that my dad is gone is becoming more real and, somehow, less devastating. It is still sad, but it's more of a muted sadness. His dear widow sent me a box full of some of his clothes, some pictures of us together and a small trinket gift I once game him. Looking through the things and recognizing them reminds me of being a child in those first layers of sleep when you're still consciously aware of some noises and movement. I hear some milling about and soft laughter. Adults converse around me, maybe at a gathering. The sounds are distant even though I have the sense that I'm still in the same room with them. I'm separated from them and yet still a part of everything. It's comforting.
This kind of experience in the realm of reality was one of my favorite kinds of experiences. I used to nap while at the homes of friends and, occasionally, when I had company over myself. Fortunately, my company seemed to understand.
There is some longing to be a part of the happy conversation and activities, but the blissful tiredness is overtaking me, and I instead fall deeper into sleep. I suppose, at some point, there is a choice to be made. Will I wake myself up to the clarity of the memories and pain so that I may more fully experience them and keep them alive and fresh, or will I let myself fall asleep and move on? I still have some time to decide. But, for the moment, all is more sweet than bitter.
It amazes me how closed the door was to my own experience of this before everything happened. It's amazing what empathy I was closed off from for other people without having experienced this piece of imperfect life for myself. The door to connection with so many more people is opened to me now. For that, I am grateful.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
What's the Use in Being Good at Anything? I Mean, Really Good.
Something occurred to me the other day. I was pondering my recent brush with art at the symphony. We had a girl's night out. It was cathartic, uplifting, and it brought back memories of a time when I had more time to devote to art and culture. In order to be really good at something, in addition to having some natural talent, there is a need to immerse yourself in said thing. Yet, this whole world is constructed in such a way that, if we are to do that, we must neglect all else. Perhaps not entirely, but to enough of an extent for the neglect to be felt by, in most cases, THOSE whom we are neglecting for the pursuit of art. Art is anesthetic for me. It is powerful, mind-expanding, pleasurable. The creation of art is like a powerful drug. The consumption of art is on par with its creation.
Unfortunately, I'm going to have to interrupt my thought. There are too many things pulling at me. So my thoughts are diluted. I will hopefully revisit this post and finish it.
Unfortunately, I'm going to have to interrupt my thought. There are too many things pulling at me. So my thoughts are diluted. I will hopefully revisit this post and finish it.
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