A quiet day of reflection, listening to the rain fall here in Southern California.
So many things to be grateful for this year... not least, the opportunity to get to know the thoughts of so many congenial people here in the blogging community.
So many things yet to pray for.
- - - - - - -
On the 27th, Penni over at Martha, Martha tagged me with a meme which she was passing on from yurodivi: five resolutions for the new liturgical year.
1. Stick my nose inside a church.
2. More consciously let God guide my life.
3. Refrain from uncharitable thought and comment about certain members of the Church hierarchy.
4. Contribute to certain charities which mean a lot to me.
5. Continue to build my routines and focus on what I need to do.
I've already done the first. Thanks for the nudge. I'll post about that later on.
Happy 2006, everybody!
31 December 2005
24 December 2005
Prayers for you at Christmas
This post is for you because I cannot be with you in person to embrace you as we greet each other with "Merry Christmas!" I just wanted to let you know I am thinking of you as you prepare for tomorrow's celebration.
I pray for you that you will have whatever is best for you this season. I do not know what that is; it is between you, and God. He is watching over you, eager to give you good gifts.
May your blessings include peace and patience. I've been through my share of stressful Christmases. This promises to be a quiet one for me, so I shall spend it praying for you, that you will feel His whispered encouragement when you need it most.
For you I pray for the gift of gratitude, that it may well up in your heart as you count your blessings and enjoy the gifts of beauty and inspiration which are the cherished inward gifts of this season.
I hope that your Christmas will include the chance to look into the eyes of ones you love, even if only in memory. Should those memories bring tears, may you be comforted in whatever way makes sense to your soul.
For me, when sorrow closes in, I run to Mary. She was overshadowed by the Holy Spirit. She bore God's child. How much she must have loved that baby! Yet, in her woman's heart, she must have sensed that trouble lay ahead. After all, God, who created his son's body by inexplicable holy mystery, arranged for him to be brought forth in a dark stable.
All too soon, she was to hear, "This child is destined to be a sign that will be rejected; and you too will be pierced to the heart." She knows what it means to love, and lose. She knows what it means to have a shadow over your heart even in the midst of joy. She knows what it's like to sit helplessly beside the dearest person on earth and watch him die. She knows. Go to her.
She is not God, but she is the one he chose to mother his very own son. Far from the saccharine-sweet saint portrayed as gazing fondly, even somewhat vacuously, on the child in the manger, she was a young woman of deep faith and steely resolve who voluntarily gave her body and life to God, mothered the Word made flesh, lived with the certain knowledge that his earthly life was doomed, and watched his crucifixion.
You do not have to ask her to pray for you, if that thought is foreign to your religious understanding. But I pray that, if you are grieving, the recollection of her, as you contemplate Jesus' birth, will bring you the grace to rejoice even in the face of certain sorrow.
May angels, like those the shepherds saw, guide you this Christmas, protecting your travels, watching over your celebration, and guiding your thoughts to God in the midst of whatever you experience during this holy time.
May God bless us, every one.
I pray for you that you will have whatever is best for you this season. I do not know what that is; it is between you, and God. He is watching over you, eager to give you good gifts.
May your blessings include peace and patience. I've been through my share of stressful Christmases. This promises to be a quiet one for me, so I shall spend it praying for you, that you will feel His whispered encouragement when you need it most.
For you I pray for the gift of gratitude, that it may well up in your heart as you count your blessings and enjoy the gifts of beauty and inspiration which are the cherished inward gifts of this season.
I hope that your Christmas will include the chance to look into the eyes of ones you love, even if only in memory. Should those memories bring tears, may you be comforted in whatever way makes sense to your soul.
For me, when sorrow closes in, I run to Mary. She was overshadowed by the Holy Spirit. She bore God's child. How much she must have loved that baby! Yet, in her woman's heart, she must have sensed that trouble lay ahead. After all, God, who created his son's body by inexplicable holy mystery, arranged for him to be brought forth in a dark stable.
All too soon, she was to hear, "This child is destined to be a sign that will be rejected; and you too will be pierced to the heart." She knows what it means to love, and lose. She knows what it means to have a shadow over your heart even in the midst of joy. She knows what it's like to sit helplessly beside the dearest person on earth and watch him die. She knows. Go to her.
She is not God, but she is the one he chose to mother his very own son. Far from the saccharine-sweet saint portrayed as gazing fondly, even somewhat vacuously, on the child in the manger, she was a young woman of deep faith and steely resolve who voluntarily gave her body and life to God, mothered the Word made flesh, lived with the certain knowledge that his earthly life was doomed, and watched his crucifixion.
You do not have to ask her to pray for you, if that thought is foreign to your religious understanding. But I pray that, if you are grieving, the recollection of her, as you contemplate Jesus' birth, will bring you the grace to rejoice even in the face of certain sorrow.
May angels, like those the shepherds saw, guide you this Christmas, protecting your travels, watching over your celebration, and guiding your thoughts to God in the midst of whatever you experience during this holy time.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
The same was in the beginning with God.
All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.
In him was life; and the life was the light of men.
And the light shineth in darkess; and the darkness comprehended it not.
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.
The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the Light, that all men through him might believe.
He was not that Light, but was sent to bear witness of that Light.
That was the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.
He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not.
He came unto his own, and his own received him not.
But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on this name:
Which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.
And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth. - John 1:1-14
May God bless us, every one.
Merry Christmas!
I've started early and had the most perfect Christmas Eve church service ever, courtesy of American Public Radio. It was "A Festival of Nine Lessons" broadcast from King's College in Cambridge, England.
The nine lessons were read from the King James Version of the Bible, with clear and fluent diction, so as to be heard in the echoes of the church. After each, the choir sang pieces which were reflective of the reading, and a real aid in meditation on the sacred words. Sometimes there were hymns which the congregation sang. The only (rare) accompaniment was from the organ.
The service finished with a traditional prayer from the Book of Common Prayer, and the two traditional carols, O Come All Ye Faithful and Hark the Herald Angels Sing.
It was beautiful, reverent, solemn, and joyful. One could imagine the earliest Christians having such a service, repeating the words to one another, and singing hymns between the readings.
I do not say it's the only way. I don't mean to tout it over anyone else's worship on this holy eve of the great beginning feast of the Church year. All I know is that it was perfect for me, and I take it as a gift, one of those [there-are-no] coincidences that leave me feeling like my soul has been hugged by the One Who created and redeemed it.
May your Christmas include such a private, perfect gift from God.
The nine lessons were read from the King James Version of the Bible, with clear and fluent diction, so as to be heard in the echoes of the church. After each, the choir sang pieces which were reflective of the reading, and a real aid in meditation on the sacred words. Sometimes there were hymns which the congregation sang. The only (rare) accompaniment was from the organ.
The service finished with a traditional prayer from the Book of Common Prayer, and the two traditional carols, O Come All Ye Faithful and Hark the Herald Angels Sing.
It was beautiful, reverent, solemn, and joyful. One could imagine the earliest Christians having such a service, repeating the words to one another, and singing hymns between the readings.
I do not say it's the only way. I don't mean to tout it over anyone else's worship on this holy eve of the great beginning feast of the Church year. All I know is that it was perfect for me, and I take it as a gift, one of those [there-are-no] coincidences that leave me feeling like my soul has been hugged by the One Who created and redeemed it.
May your Christmas include such a private, perfect gift from God.
What my sister's Labrador Retriever taught me
Thanks to Rachel Swenson Balducci for reminding me of this one:
If a dog was the teacher you would learn stuff like:
If a dog was the teacher you would learn stuff like:
• When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
• Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
• Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
• When it's in your best interest, practice obedience.
• Let others know when they've invaded your territory.
• Take naps.
• Stretch before rising.
• Run, romp, and play daily.
• Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
• Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
• On warm days, stop to lie on your back in the grass.
• On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
• When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
• No matter how often you're scolded, don't buy into the guilt thing and pout.
• Run right back and make friends.
• Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
• Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.
• Stop when you have had enough.
• Be loyal.
• Never pretend to be something you're not.
• If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
• When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.
09 December 2005
Love and memory
The Anchoress comments on and links to an absorbing post by neo-neocon which looks at the story of Clive Wearing, who lost his long-term memory to a bout with encephalitis. His wife left him for a time, then returned:
The Anchoress says,
I realised that we are not just brain and processes. Clive had lost all that and yet he was still Clive. Even when we didn’t see one another, when we were six months apart and only spoke on the telephone, nothing had changed. Even when he was at his worst, most acute state, he still had that huge overwhelming love … for me. That was what survived when everything else was taken away.
The Anchoress says,
Read the whole thing and marvel in the miracle of love. And think about how for the world, “marriage” has become less a sacrament and more of a social contract. And yet “the two shall become one flesh…”Indeed.
Sometimes people ask me why the Catholic church allows annullment - it all seems like a “pay as you exit” scheme to them. But there is a supernatural element, completely spiritual, that should exist within marriage, and if it is not being admitted into the marriage (or not being entered into by the couple) well, perhaps then the marriage itself never did “exist,” except on paper.
Somethings truly are in the stars.
A feast for the eyes
A colleague recently returned from Italy, enjoying it the perfect way, as the guest of a friend who lives there. He treated me to a slide show of his many, many images of the area where he was visiting. He is an accomplished artist, the city where he stayed is breathtakingly beautiful, and he had a good digital camera. The results were astounding. I usually find myself yawning about the third snapshot in, but the images he captured transported me into the place they so skillfully depicted.
He was there for three weeks. For thirty minutes he let me forget all about the work on my desk and revel in the unstudied, unplanned beauty of ancient neighborhoods, beautiful architecture, and vistas which look exactly the same as they did when painted centuries ago.
It was a wonderful gift, and one which I needed, as you may have guessed from previous posts. ;)
He was there for three weeks. For thirty minutes he let me forget all about the work on my desk and revel in the unstudied, unplanned beauty of ancient neighborhoods, beautiful architecture, and vistas which look exactly the same as they did when painted centuries ago.
It was a wonderful gift, and one which I needed, as you may have guessed from previous posts. ;)
In the moment
There is a saying, "be in the moment." Someone who's been through addiction, whether as participant, codependent, or exasperated onlooker, knows exactly what's meant by that. At some point, all civilized human beings have to apply rationalization or skirt reality in order to apply charity and tolerance. "He's just tired." "She's under stress." "I was behaving like a child... no wonder he came off on me." But, sometimes, it gets to be an obsession... a life skill... an art form. One loses the awareness of making a conscious effort to get around the discomfort. Instead, you start jollying yourself into believing Everything is Just Fine. We forbid ourselves and others to feel otherwise. No matter how much our stomach hurts from anxiety or the tears want to fall, we smile and calmly say, "it's all right" or "it's not so bad."
It takes a long time to overcome that. One way is to concentrate on simple, accessible experiences: the fragrance of a rose, the beauty of a landscape, or a beautiful melody. Not just the nose, eyes or ears, but the brain and the emotions, the memory and the soul. It took me a long time to learn to do that. To this day, it is still a conscious decision.
Of late ... many years down the road of recovery ... I've noticed that the willingness to be in the moment has not been limited to just the good stuff. I am willing to feel my pain.
This is not a maudlin exercise, though if I'm tired I might retire early with a box of tissues and cry myself to sleep. (I spent decades without shedding a tear, so that's really an improvement.) It is, for me, a quiet acknowledgement that life hurts, and I can feel that hurt, understand and acknowledge it, and honor my sorrow and my pain - and life is really sweeter when I do.
I don't recommend wallowing in pain. I don't allow myself to do so. If it gets too bad, I go for a walk, have a hot bath, take my vitamins, and get some sleep. But, sometimes, I honor myself and what I have lived through by acknowledging the scope of what I have lost and endured.
It hurts, yes, but it's nothing compared to what Jesus endured. If I open my soul to him, I sense him drawing near. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." I know that valley. I've crossed it a few times. I know how dank and cold and dark it gets. There are things to fear in there, things you cannot identify but whose reality your soul knows, and wants to run from.
He is with us in those moments.
I have a lot of beauty in my life. I have love, and so many good things. Still, I feel like it's part of my healing that sometimes I can sit and open the dark side of my soul. I find I can look at the horror without flinching because Jesus is looking at it with me. Together we open the hidden place. Together we hear the cruel words again, or feel the awful horror of a moment of loss so deep that I knew my life would never be the same. I look at the moment, and hand it off to him. I don't know what he does with it. Sometimes I think I hear the echo of nails being driven, or the soft drip of something heavier than water onto the ground.
I don't want it to be that way. I don't want my pain to be his, too. But he lets me know somehow that his part already happened. It's done. He knew what I would experience, and he took it on himself that day. Part of what he suffered was for me. There were my sins, and there were those of the ones whose sin complicated my life. It doesn't matter. They all got dealt with then.
They got dealt with so that I could heal, today; so that I could look at the pain and let it go, into the hands of one who let evil do its worst, yet rose again. And that's what he points me to, now. I don't understand why what happened to me had to happen. I've been given the grace to let go of that need to know. The Sun is rising, making all things new. My soul is different and new, too. The pain isn't gone, but it has no power to hurt me, now. He took it from me.
I am still wounded. I am still maimed. The life that was so easy for others ... meet, marry, know, love ... was never mine, although I yearned for it so deeply. My blunders led to a barren existence in an emotional wilderness. Now I can quit hiding from the pain. Instead of annihilating me, the sorrow has led me to be closer to God than ever before in my life. He has let me share an infinitesimal bit of what he knew on the cross. I have been taken into his confidence. The only difference is, he understood why, and I never will. There are no explanations. There is only the promise of company and support if you surrender.
In a Carmelite cell, there is a bare cross on the wall. It is bare because it is a destination.
It takes a long time to overcome that. One way is to concentrate on simple, accessible experiences: the fragrance of a rose, the beauty of a landscape, or a beautiful melody. Not just the nose, eyes or ears, but the brain and the emotions, the memory and the soul. It took me a long time to learn to do that. To this day, it is still a conscious decision.
Of late ... many years down the road of recovery ... I've noticed that the willingness to be in the moment has not been limited to just the good stuff. I am willing to feel my pain.
This is not a maudlin exercise, though if I'm tired I might retire early with a box of tissues and cry myself to sleep. (I spent decades without shedding a tear, so that's really an improvement.) It is, for me, a quiet acknowledgement that life hurts, and I can feel that hurt, understand and acknowledge it, and honor my sorrow and my pain - and life is really sweeter when I do.
I don't recommend wallowing in pain. I don't allow myself to do so. If it gets too bad, I go for a walk, have a hot bath, take my vitamins, and get some sleep. But, sometimes, I honor myself and what I have lived through by acknowledging the scope of what I have lost and endured.
It hurts, yes, but it's nothing compared to what Jesus endured. If I open my soul to him, I sense him drawing near. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." I know that valley. I've crossed it a few times. I know how dank and cold and dark it gets. There are things to fear in there, things you cannot identify but whose reality your soul knows, and wants to run from.
He is with us in those moments.
I have a lot of beauty in my life. I have love, and so many good things. Still, I feel like it's part of my healing that sometimes I can sit and open the dark side of my soul. I find I can look at the horror without flinching because Jesus is looking at it with me. Together we open the hidden place. Together we hear the cruel words again, or feel the awful horror of a moment of loss so deep that I knew my life would never be the same. I look at the moment, and hand it off to him. I don't know what he does with it. Sometimes I think I hear the echo of nails being driven, or the soft drip of something heavier than water onto the ground.
I don't want it to be that way. I don't want my pain to be his, too. But he lets me know somehow that his part already happened. It's done. He knew what I would experience, and he took it on himself that day. Part of what he suffered was for me. There were my sins, and there were those of the ones whose sin complicated my life. It doesn't matter. They all got dealt with then.
They got dealt with so that I could heal, today; so that I could look at the pain and let it go, into the hands of one who let evil do its worst, yet rose again. And that's what he points me to, now. I don't understand why what happened to me had to happen. I've been given the grace to let go of that need to know. The Sun is rising, making all things new. My soul is different and new, too. The pain isn't gone, but it has no power to hurt me, now. He took it from me.
I am still wounded. I am still maimed. The life that was so easy for others ... meet, marry, know, love ... was never mine, although I yearned for it so deeply. My blunders led to a barren existence in an emotional wilderness. Now I can quit hiding from the pain. Instead of annihilating me, the sorrow has led me to be closer to God than ever before in my life. He has let me share an infinitesimal bit of what he knew on the cross. I have been taken into his confidence. The only difference is, he understood why, and I never will. There are no explanations. There is only the promise of company and support if you surrender.
In a Carmelite cell, there is a bare cross on the wall. It is bare because it is a destination.
06 December 2005
Memories
Sometimes the ones that mean the most are the ones I don't have.
Driving home tonight, I turned on the radio, and heard "Isn't she lovely..." As I listened to the words of a father celebrating his delight in his baby daughter, I recalled the image of a snapshot I saw a couple of years ago. It was a blurry image, taken on a sunny day, of a young dad and his toddler daughter. The sun made his hair red-gold and made her look like a cherub.
It was many years ago.
Not my memory.
The little girl is a married woman now. Her dad loves her so much.
The man is not my husband. Other women have known him in that way; not I. His daughter has no clue who I am.
But she is lovely, and dearly loved.
As difficult as this is - not having certain memories of people I love - it has been the best thing ever for my understanding of God.
So many of us met him when we were young, and fell in love with him. We were tempted, distracted, or lured from his side. People lied to us, saying that he was no good for us, that he wanted just to make us unhappy. Entranced, we agreed. Our love did not fight back nor argue. We had the information; we made our choice. We left him behind and went with our seductive new friends who denied us nothing, except closeness, intimacy, self-respect, and affection.
God never forgot us. He never hated us for leaving him. He missed us terribly and wanted what was best for us. Because he loves us, He lets us decide what that is. It would not be love if He forced it on us.
It is the liars who force things on us. They say they love us, but they call us demeaning names, reject our advances, or turn away when we need emotional shelter, responding with exasperated annoyance every time we ask for something which is appropriate given our role in their lives. And yet we believe them when they say that this is love.
When we are ready to see through the lies, Love will still be there. If we are never ready, we are still Loved. God does not stop loving us because we're frightened, make stupid decisions, or cling to people who shame and demean us.
I have learned this, not because I am good like God, but because I love, and can do no more than write about it. I understand why God must wait and not intervene. I know why it takes so long for us to give up on trying to make people give us love.
Lord, have mercy on those who feel compelled to spend their lives trying to keep someone from getting angry with them. Help us comprehend that, just because someone wants to shame us, that doesn't mean what they say is true. Give us the grace to discern true love, and to choose it. Support us and forgive us when we're too scared to break free. Never give up on us, dear Lord. Do not abandon us to our captors. Inoculate us against their lies by showing us the truth about love. Send us encouragers and people we can trust. Help us to grasp that people who treat us lovingly and respectfully are not lying, and people who say they love us while shaming and demeaning us are not telling the truth.
Driving home tonight, I turned on the radio, and heard "Isn't she lovely..." As I listened to the words of a father celebrating his delight in his baby daughter, I recalled the image of a snapshot I saw a couple of years ago. It was a blurry image, taken on a sunny day, of a young dad and his toddler daughter. The sun made his hair red-gold and made her look like a cherub.
It was many years ago.
Not my memory.
The little girl is a married woman now. Her dad loves her so much.
The man is not my husband. Other women have known him in that way; not I. His daughter has no clue who I am.
But she is lovely, and dearly loved.
As difficult as this is - not having certain memories of people I love - it has been the best thing ever for my understanding of God.
So many of us met him when we were young, and fell in love with him. We were tempted, distracted, or lured from his side. People lied to us, saying that he was no good for us, that he wanted just to make us unhappy. Entranced, we agreed. Our love did not fight back nor argue. We had the information; we made our choice. We left him behind and went with our seductive new friends who denied us nothing, except closeness, intimacy, self-respect, and affection.
God never forgot us. He never hated us for leaving him. He missed us terribly and wanted what was best for us. Because he loves us, He lets us decide what that is. It would not be love if He forced it on us.
It is the liars who force things on us. They say they love us, but they call us demeaning names, reject our advances, or turn away when we need emotional shelter, responding with exasperated annoyance every time we ask for something which is appropriate given our role in their lives. And yet we believe them when they say that this is love.
When we are ready to see through the lies, Love will still be there. If we are never ready, we are still Loved. God does not stop loving us because we're frightened, make stupid decisions, or cling to people who shame and demean us.
I have learned this, not because I am good like God, but because I love, and can do no more than write about it. I understand why God must wait and not intervene. I know why it takes so long for us to give up on trying to make people give us love.
Lord, have mercy on those who feel compelled to spend their lives trying to keep someone from getting angry with them. Help us comprehend that, just because someone wants to shame us, that doesn't mean what they say is true. Give us the grace to discern true love, and to choose it. Support us and forgive us when we're too scared to break free. Never give up on us, dear Lord. Do not abandon us to our captors. Inoculate us against their lies by showing us the truth about love. Send us encouragers and people we can trust. Help us to grasp that people who treat us lovingly and respectfully are not lying, and people who say they love us while shaming and demeaning us are not telling the truth.
04 December 2005
Permission to mess up
Owen over at luminousmiseries has a wonderful post for artists, which I found linked over at Alicia's. Even if you're not an artist or a writer... go check it out.
02 December 2005
Thoughts on vows, vocations, and visibility
On MS-NBC's website yesterday in "The Week in Pictures," there was a photo gallery which includes a picture of two nuns playing with the children of a parochial school during some unseasonably warm weather in White Bear Lake, Minnesota.
I looked 'em up - here they are.
If you follow that link, you will notice something quite unusual about the sisters in the photo on the website.
1. Their habits are beautiful.
2. The order would appear to be attracting vocations.
The sisters are attached to St. Ann's Church, which is run by the FSSP. They are traditional in their religious life and worship.
And MS-NBC included a picture of these unprogressive gals on its website photos for the week.
Just interesting, that's all.
I looked 'em up - here they are.
If you follow that link, you will notice something quite unusual about the sisters in the photo on the website.
1. Their habits are beautiful.
2. The order would appear to be attracting vocations.
The sisters are attached to St. Ann's Church, which is run by the FSSP. They are traditional in their religious life and worship.
And MS-NBC included a picture of these unprogressive gals on its website photos for the week.
Just interesting, that's all.
30 November 2005
Knowing my limitations
I have a "wonderful opportunity" at work. I would be "foolish" to pass it up.
I'm going to be foolish.
It is something I can do well, but which I thoroughly dislike doing. In the past, I have often striven to do things which make me uncomfortable and unhappy at work. It's how I was raised. I never thought anything of it. The idea that I could actually do what I do best, and earn a good living at it, never occurred to me.
It is a crossroads. If I choose the way which will bring me more money, recognition, and a step up the ladder, I shall be very busy and extremely stressed. I am taking the other way, the one where I immerse myself in the task at hand and, the next time I look at the clock, am surprised that it's an hour and a half later. God gave me the talent to do both; I have to (finally) be wise enough to know which to pick, and trust Him to take care of the rest. Amen.
I'm going to be foolish.
It is something I can do well, but which I thoroughly dislike doing. In the past, I have often striven to do things which make me uncomfortable and unhappy at work. It's how I was raised. I never thought anything of it. The idea that I could actually do what I do best, and earn a good living at it, never occurred to me.
It is a crossroads. If I choose the way which will bring me more money, recognition, and a step up the ladder, I shall be very busy and extremely stressed. I am taking the other way, the one where I immerse myself in the task at hand and, the next time I look at the clock, am surprised that it's an hour and a half later. God gave me the talent to do both; I have to (finally) be wise enough to know which to pick, and trust Him to take care of the rest. Amen.
Thoughts on Blessings
Penni over at Martha, Martha wrote about feeling uncomfortable asking for blessings.
I still have the worn Bible from the time when I ended up prostrate before God, finally, finally ready to let go and let Him do what He wanted with my life. It was an awful feeling. I still have my moments (see recent post on feeling separate from Him). But I did it, because He backed me into a corner and I had no choice. It was either trust Him, or trust myself/the deceiver, and I knew the black hole which awaited me if I chose the latter.
It did feel penitential. I was very uncomfortable driving the very comfortable used car I eventually got to replace the tiny, unsafe one. The new house that came along was very hard to accept. I went to Penney's and bought $300 worth of clothes I had to have - my old ones were falling apart - and I almost had a panic attack and had to talk myself out of the store and into the car. At the time, I could easily afford that much. It was just feeling so self-conscious about taking care of myself in that way. Anorexia of joy... anhedonia, they call it. But it was more than just not feeling it; it was fighting and resisting it.
God had to humble me completely, take away everything I treasured in life, before I would turn to Him properly. He was kind, but firm. Still is. He's a good Abba.
my wise and sage friend suggested that i start praying for God's abundant blessings upon me. i have to tell you, i am not comfortable with that.That just took me back... wow. I commented:
not in the least.
i ask for God's blessings upon everyone around me, from family to customers, friends known and unknown. but for me? too awkward to do that.
do you feel it is wrong to ask for blessings for yourself - is that being *self*ish? or do you pray for God to bless you abundantly and not feel bad about that at all? i tend to be more of a "social justice" pray-er and not ask for too much for myself.
do i have it all wrong?
Your words take me back to where I was many years ago. I found it nearly impossible to trust God, but I was in a scary place in my life, and I just had to. The alternative was unthinkable.
Laying down my worries and anxieties and cares and fears at His feet was very difficult for me; I kept picking them back up again.
I was finally able to ask for the grace to accept His blessings, even if they went against the grain. It was like a penance for me, because I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable in the ways you so eloquently express.
I finally got to the point where I was willing to let go of my life and let Him take care of me as He saw fit. If it included bare floors and no heat, so be it. If it was to be carpet and central air, fine. If I am honest about surrendering to Him, I need to open myself to His generous provision, just as I commit to accept when things are tough.
As for others' blessings... Jesus took a basket of bread and fish and fed thousands. By giving you what you need, He does not deprive anyone else. There's plenty. He's God. He can make more blessings. Your blessings might not be what anyone else needs, anyway. They might just be for you alone. ;)
I still have the worn Bible from the time when I ended up prostrate before God, finally, finally ready to let go and let Him do what He wanted with my life. It was an awful feeling. I still have my moments (see recent post on feeling separate from Him). But I did it, because He backed me into a corner and I had no choice. It was either trust Him, or trust myself/the deceiver, and I knew the black hole which awaited me if I chose the latter.
It did feel penitential. I was very uncomfortable driving the very comfortable used car I eventually got to replace the tiny, unsafe one. The new house that came along was very hard to accept. I went to Penney's and bought $300 worth of clothes I had to have - my old ones were falling apart - and I almost had a panic attack and had to talk myself out of the store and into the car. At the time, I could easily afford that much. It was just feeling so self-conscious about taking care of myself in that way. Anorexia of joy... anhedonia, they call it. But it was more than just not feeling it; it was fighting and resisting it.
God had to humble me completely, take away everything I treasured in life, before I would turn to Him properly. He was kind, but firm. Still is. He's a good Abba.
27 November 2005
Struggling to get out of the chains
Oswald Chambers is one of those writers who is a real guide for me. I loved this quote: "The Spirit of God has spoiled the sin of a great many, yet there is no emancipation, no fullness in their lives." My Utmost for His Highest, November 27
Even as I smile ruefully at the way he puts it - "The Spirit of God has spoiled the sin of a great many" - heh - I am uncomfortably aware that he's got me pegged.
"Emancipation" is the right word: "to free from restraint, control, or the power of another; esp: to free from bondage."
Paul spoke of our freedom in Christ. Jesus said, "I came that your joy may be full."
Somewhere along the line, I got it in my head that to be happy was a sin of selfishness. If I was happy or comfortable, it meant that someone else was not.
That's a lie.
I am called to joy, which pertains regardless of whether or not I am happy. That said, it is not wrong for me to enjoy what God has provided in my life, and to share whatever I can with others, that they, too, may be happy.
I need to be emancipated from the restraint that whispers, "you should not be so happy." I need to be liberated from the control which mutes my emotions and keeps me from celebrating the good news of my salvation. I've ceded power over my life to the one who hates me and the One who made me; I need to take back that permission, and give power over my life only to the One who loves me and cherishes me and wants me to be delighted once in a while with pleasant, healthful, fun things.
Some of this control gets passed as a consequence of my own curiosity and lack of discipline over my thoughts.
I've recently comprehended that I cannot get involved in the anguish at so many Christian Internet watering holes. I get caught up in the superficial observations and arguments, and completely miss the underlying spiritual truths and fictions going on. There is so much I cannot know, can't possibly understand, and don't have time to research. I have to let go, and let God sort it out with those who are far more qualified than I to do battle.
This is part of what I have to learn about finding my own pasture. I've avoided going to church because I'm almost phobic about it, these days; it doesn't matter where I turn, there's always some "reason" I've read about why that church is not a "good" one. God has kindly shown me that I must resolutely ignore all the magpies and go where He leads me, to a place where I can be fed in the Word. In other words, I have to trust Him.
That is very difficult for me. (hangs head)
Advent is always one of those times of year when I try to start again with the whole church thing. I almost made it this morning. I shall continue to plan and pray and see if I can brave it next Sunday. I need to deliberately turn my back on all the news reports and generalities, and let God lead me to a congregation which is whole in His Word. Pray for me, fellow seekers... some of you know what I'm going through.
Even as I smile ruefully at the way he puts it - "The Spirit of God has spoiled the sin of a great many" - heh - I am uncomfortably aware that he's got me pegged.
"Emancipation" is the right word: "to free from restraint, control, or the power of another; esp: to free from bondage."
Paul spoke of our freedom in Christ. Jesus said, "I came that your joy may be full."
Somewhere along the line, I got it in my head that to be happy was a sin of selfishness. If I was happy or comfortable, it meant that someone else was not.
That's a lie.
I am called to joy, which pertains regardless of whether or not I am happy. That said, it is not wrong for me to enjoy what God has provided in my life, and to share whatever I can with others, that they, too, may be happy.
I need to be emancipated from the restraint that whispers, "you should not be so happy." I need to be liberated from the control which mutes my emotions and keeps me from celebrating the good news of my salvation. I've ceded power over my life to the one who hates me and the One who made me; I need to take back that permission, and give power over my life only to the One who loves me and cherishes me and wants me to be delighted once in a while with pleasant, healthful, fun things.
Some of this control gets passed as a consequence of my own curiosity and lack of discipline over my thoughts.
I've recently comprehended that I cannot get involved in the anguish at so many Christian Internet watering holes. I get caught up in the superficial observations and arguments, and completely miss the underlying spiritual truths and fictions going on. There is so much I cannot know, can't possibly understand, and don't have time to research. I have to let go, and let God sort it out with those who are far more qualified than I to do battle.
This is part of what I have to learn about finding my own pasture. I've avoided going to church because I'm almost phobic about it, these days; it doesn't matter where I turn, there's always some "reason" I've read about why that church is not a "good" one. God has kindly shown me that I must resolutely ignore all the magpies and go where He leads me, to a place where I can be fed in the Word. In other words, I have to trust Him.
That is very difficult for me. (hangs head)
Advent is always one of those times of year when I try to start again with the whole church thing. I almost made it this morning. I shall continue to plan and pray and see if I can brave it next Sunday. I need to deliberately turn my back on all the news reports and generalities, and let God lead me to a congregation which is whole in His Word. Pray for me, fellow seekers... some of you know what I'm going through.
A simple proposal to squelch "Happy Holidays"
Most retailers are commanding their advertising houses and clerks to use only "Happy Holidays." This is distressing to many Christians, especially since the retailers continue to use the trappings of our celebration, like Christmas trees, the colors of red and green, and other traditional, deeply meaningful symbols of the season. Presumably that is because someone's feelings might be hurt. I can understand that, actually: it's rude to celebrate the arrival of Our Saviour, which is Christ, the Lord, in front of someone who does not share our joy. How thoughtless! After all, without the gospel, the whole idea of Christmas is pretty tiresome.
Our Christian gift-giving is supposedly done at least in part in imitation of the Magi, who brought gifts to Jesus when they found Him in the stable. Let's face it: to give gifts to each other is not exactly true to that picture, if you know what I mean.
So let's bring our celebration closer into line with that of the Magi, instead of pleasing ourselves and annoying the non-Christians among us.
"So long as you did it to the least of these, you did it to Me." Let us restore the real tradition of Christmas gift-giving by giving gifts to the baby Jesus wherever we find Him in the poor and needy. Let's shower Jesus with cash by giving it to charities, and show our affection to one another with unbought words and acts of love. Let's give small meaningful gifts, like bookmarks, photographs, handwritten letters and ornaments for our Christmas trees. Let's tell one another what we treasure about each other, and thank each other for the good times of the last year. Let's offer our time and companionship and service to those who need our individual gifts of talent, whatever they might be: shoveling driveways, fixing computers, mending, watching the kids for an evening, helping with a term paper, etc.
Without Christian spending, the retailers' stores will stand empty, their servers unused, their phones silent, except for the faxes coming in with orders from charities, ordering in bulk and negotiating huge discounts. Let the oh-so-politically-correct managers strain to hear the tinny sounds of their piped-in holiday music over the sounds of crickets chirping in the aisles.
Let us take a sabbatical from Christmas in the 7th year of the new century. In 2007, let us accede to the wishes of those who fear that someone will feel slighted by the word Christmas. Let us give them what they want! Let us remove our feast from the public square, and take it back into our homes, churches and charities. Ho ho ho!
Our Christian gift-giving is supposedly done at least in part in imitation of the Magi, who brought gifts to Jesus when they found Him in the stable. Let's face it: to give gifts to each other is not exactly true to that picture, if you know what I mean.
So let's bring our celebration closer into line with that of the Magi, instead of pleasing ourselves and annoying the non-Christians among us.
"So long as you did it to the least of these, you did it to Me." Let us restore the real tradition of Christmas gift-giving by giving gifts to the baby Jesus wherever we find Him in the poor and needy. Let's shower Jesus with cash by giving it to charities, and show our affection to one another with unbought words and acts of love. Let's give small meaningful gifts, like bookmarks, photographs, handwritten letters and ornaments for our Christmas trees. Let's tell one another what we treasure about each other, and thank each other for the good times of the last year. Let's offer our time and companionship and service to those who need our individual gifts of talent, whatever they might be: shoveling driveways, fixing computers, mending, watching the kids for an evening, helping with a term paper, etc.
Without Christian spending, the retailers' stores will stand empty, their servers unused, their phones silent, except for the faxes coming in with orders from charities, ordering in bulk and negotiating huge discounts. Let the oh-so-politically-correct managers strain to hear the tinny sounds of their piped-in holiday music over the sounds of crickets chirping in the aisles.
Let us take a sabbatical from Christmas in the 7th year of the new century. In 2007, let us accede to the wishes of those who fear that someone will feel slighted by the word Christmas. Let us give them what they want! Let us remove our feast from the public square, and take it back into our homes, churches and charities. Ho ho ho!
First Sunday of Advent
Several days ago, upon awakening, I had one of those moments of mental clarity in which some puzzle or problem is suddenly solved. In that dawn moment, I realized I am prone to think of God as separate from me. I have perceived Him as sometimes unloving, or merely indifferent. I suddenly saw clearly how utterly wrong I was, and how foreign that notion is even to logic. God made me. He holds me together in thought. He never wants me to be apart from Him! If he forgot me, I would cease to exist!
The feeling of separateness was banished in that moment. I went out to my study, and looked up the first reading in the devotional I use, and was overtaken by that I-am-floored-but-unsurprised feeling I get when God makes it perfectly clear He has A Point to make, and Would I Please Pay Attention. The passage was from Colossians, and included these verses:
I am still mentally, spiritually, sitting there, days and days later, my mouth agape and my heart stilled in awe.
It felt like an Advent present from Jesus, a gift to open before the Christmas madness.
Of course there's more ... later in that epistle, Paul writes:
"And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity." And which binds me to God, close under His wings, safe from the one who prowls like a lion, whispering to me and so many others, "He doesn't really love you. He doesn't care." It's a lie!
Jesus hovers around, eager and waiting. He doesn't force His way in, but He waits and watches for the moment when we're open to His love.
This Advent season, I hope I will be waiting and watching for Him, too.
The feeling of separateness was banished in that moment. I went out to my study, and looked up the first reading in the devotional I use, and was overtaken by that I-am-floored-but-unsurprised feeling I get when God makes it perfectly clear He has A Point to make, and Would I Please Pay Attention. The passage was from Colossians, and included these verses:
Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now he has reconciled you by Christ's physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation--if you continue in your faith, established and firm, not moved from the hope held out in the gospel. This is the gospel that you heard and that has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven and of which I, Paul, have become a servant. (Col. 1:21-23)God has not forgotten me. God does not want to lose me or be parted from me. I am a sinner, and cannot be admitted to His presence, because He is all-holy. So He sent his Son to teach me the right way. That Son underwent a horrible death, taking my sins on Himself, just so I would not lose touch with my God so long as I continue in my faith.
I am still mentally, spiritually, sitting there, days and days later, my mouth agape and my heart stilled in awe.
It felt like an Advent present from Jesus, a gift to open before the Christmas madness.
Of course there's more ... later in that epistle, Paul writes:
Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.I have a choice whether to "wear" those traits every day, and which to accentuate and accessorize with the others. ;) Then, just in case I was thick and didn't get the previous word, he speaks slowly and uses simple words: "Forgive as the Lord forgave you." I can't avoid knowing that, yes, the Lord forgave me, but not because I repented really well or apologized perfectly. In fact, I'm willing to bet that a lot of the worst sins were some which I never even realized I committed! The Lord forgave me solely because Jesus asked Him to, on the cross, brokenly whispering the words through his extreme pain and desolation.
"And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity." And which binds me to God, close under His wings, safe from the one who prowls like a lion, whispering to me and so many others, "He doesn't really love you. He doesn't care." It's a lie!
Jesus hovers around, eager and waiting. He doesn't force His way in, but He waits and watches for the moment when we're open to His love.
This Advent season, I hope I will be waiting and watching for Him, too.
26 November 2005
Grateful days
It is perhaps really sad to say so, but I had a wonderful Thanksgiving with my sister and her husband. It's sad because it was never fun with my in-laws; not awful, just not comfortable, on many levels. And my parents are both dead, which helps enormously. I'm sorry if that doesn't sound sufficiently devoted. I loved them dearly and missed them terribly. It's still easier now.
My sister and her husband are quite a bit younger than I. It's cute to see how they care for me, suggesting ideas for ways I could take better care of the house or myself. I feel very much like the tables are being turned. Even as it makes me feel my age, it comforts me to know that they truly care. I'm not only grateful for them, but for the healing which has allowed me to notice their care, and appreciate it.
Over the last few years I've had an emotional awakening. I'd spent many years shutting down my emotions, never letting my feelings show, or even be recognized. Now I'm almost too much the other way... but it helps me to know what's going on around me. I can be grateful for those who love me... I can recognize that they do.
When asked what I want for Christmas, I think of the blessings I've had in the past year, and think there's not much more that I need or want. There's not much left over from my paycheck at the end of the month, but God has blessed me with health and love, appetite and food to eat, the ability to sleep and wake refreshed, a place to walk in the fresh air, and meaningful work to do. I am grateful.
I hope you, too, have lots to be grateful for.
My sister and her husband are quite a bit younger than I. It's cute to see how they care for me, suggesting ideas for ways I could take better care of the house or myself. I feel very much like the tables are being turned. Even as it makes me feel my age, it comforts me to know that they truly care. I'm not only grateful for them, but for the healing which has allowed me to notice their care, and appreciate it.
Over the last few years I've had an emotional awakening. I'd spent many years shutting down my emotions, never letting my feelings show, or even be recognized. Now I'm almost too much the other way... but it helps me to know what's going on around me. I can be grateful for those who love me... I can recognize that they do.
When asked what I want for Christmas, I think of the blessings I've had in the past year, and think there's not much more that I need or want. There's not much left over from my paycheck at the end of the month, but God has blessed me with health and love, appetite and food to eat, the ability to sleep and wake refreshed, a place to walk in the fresh air, and meaningful work to do. I am grateful.
I hope you, too, have lots to be grateful for.
19 November 2005
Co-dependent
I know what this means.
I've had reason this week to revisit this list.
My name is A. Noël, and I am a codependent.
The ENORMOUS challenge of codependency is that we must be co-dependent to live normally. We have to be able to reach out and establish healthy relationships.
It is rather like the addiction to food.
One must eat in order to survive; how to navigate through life without abusing it? One must have relationships in order to live normally; how to navigate without falling into the same patterns?
Only by the grace of God, as we understand Him.
The first step for me was to give up the notion that I was strong. I wasn't. I was out of control, mainlining on others' approval, needing huge fixes of behavior to react to, just to get through the day. If I was with someone "normal," who just sort of muddled through the day as "normal" people do, I became horribly anxious. I could not be a friend. Everything was a performance.
Some days, it still is.
That's the thing about recovery: it goes on for life. You're never done. Ever.
I've had to revisit that this week. I have a dear friend who is in the throes of Step One. This is more than a friend to me. This is a soul-mate, someone I have known since knee socks and saddle shoes, someone with whom I was privileged to share some of the happiest moments of my life. We need each other, and yet are not always good for one another, because we are both extremely codependent. I've been in recovery for years and years; my friend is just now beginning to comprehend.
I encourage and support my friend, often pointing back to therapist, group, book, etc. I often pull away and let the consequences happen.
And I need to recognize with painful clarity exactly what I can reasonably expect from this person, and what I cannot.
I cannot trust this person with my emotional well-being.
This person is not able to take care of me.
If I stay around this person, I will get hurt.
I need to write out #4 and #9 and put them on the refrigerator and the bathroom mirror, so that I cannot escape the truth about myself, because #6 is alive and well in me, and only repeated, consistent working of the Steps will keep me on track.
I see someone regularly who is coaching me on my journey and knows my weaknesses better than I; I have a sister who is exceptionally good at being an accountability partner; and I have my friends, among whom I include those of you who have taken an interest in my meanderings.
This is the toughest test of recovery I've ever been through. I know how dangerous it is for me.
I also know this person very well. This is the kind of codependent which is gentle, meek, and terrified of hurting anyone. I have been through some nasty emotional abuse in my day, the mean, hostile, deliberate kind. It's inconceivable that my friend would act that way. However, my friend is also emotionally abusive, without meaning to be, and intent doesn't matter. I must protect myself, relating the effect on me, then withdrawing.
The realization that "this doesn't work for me any more" is a precious, wonderful gift, and the first step towards a better life; but, damn, it takes us a long time to get there!
It is dangerous. I do get hurt frequently.
And I am not leaving.
It is not perfect. It never is.
Within appropriate boundaries, I can put myself on the line for my friend. Will I look back on this time, and say I made a mistake? I cannot possibly know. I can only take it one day at a time, practice the principles which keep me on the upward path, and let my friend decide the right course to take.
If my friend cannot keep up, or goes down a different road, or turns back, I promise you this: I will not step off the path. It is for God to save the lost sheep, not me. I know my limits. I can walk ahead, mark the trail, sing the uplifting songs, and leave bottles of water and granola bars along the path. I will never turn back. Not even for my friend. I shall never go back to that awful place. It has taken me years to get to where I am. No one is worth losing an inch of that ground.
For some reason, I have found enlightening, moving and meaningful posts in the last few days; I can't help but believe that it's God's way of clearing the cobwebs away and getting me ready for the next step, whatever that may be. I write about it here for the usual reasons, including the hope that you who drop by will keep me accountable and pray for me. My friend needs me. I need my friend. Retreat is not an option. Supporting in humility and constant recourse to the twelve steps for myself is the way I want and need to go, for now.
Just for today.
The following are some of the characteristics, agreed upon
by one Alanon-Acoa group, that result in problems in our lives.
1. We became isolated and afraid of people and authority figures;
2. We became approval seekers and lost our identity in the process;
3. We are frightened by angry people and any personal criticism;
4. We either become alcoholics, marry them, or both, or find another compulsive personality such as a workaholic to fulfill our sick abandonment needs;
5. We live life from the viewpoint of victims and are attracted by that weakness in our love and friendship relations;
6. We have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and it is easier for us to be concerned with others rather than ourselves. This enables us not to look too closely at our faults, etc.
7. We get guilt feelings when we stand up for ourselves instead of giving in to others;
8. We became addicted to excitement;
9. We confuse love and pity and tend to "love" people we can "pity" and "rescue";
10. We have stuffed our feelings from our traumatic childhoods and have lost the ability to feel or express our feelings because it hurts so much; (DENIAL)
11. We judge ourselves harshly and have a very low sense of self-esteem;
12. We are dependent personalities who are terrified of abandonment and will do anything to hold on to a relationship in order not to experience painful abandonment feelings which we received from living with sick people who were never there emotionally for us;
13. Alcoholism is a family disease and we became para-alcoholics and took on the characteristics of that disease even though we did not pick up the drink;
14. Para-alcoholics are reactors rather than actors.
I've had reason this week to revisit this list.
My name is A. Noël, and I am a codependent.
The ENORMOUS challenge of codependency is that we must be co-dependent to live normally. We have to be able to reach out and establish healthy relationships.
It is rather like the addiction to food.
One must eat in order to survive; how to navigate through life without abusing it? One must have relationships in order to live normally; how to navigate without falling into the same patterns?
Only by the grace of God, as we understand Him.
The first step for me was to give up the notion that I was strong. I wasn't. I was out of control, mainlining on others' approval, needing huge fixes of behavior to react to, just to get through the day. If I was with someone "normal," who just sort of muddled through the day as "normal" people do, I became horribly anxious. I could not be a friend. Everything was a performance.
Some days, it still is.
That's the thing about recovery: it goes on for life. You're never done. Ever.
I've had to revisit that this week. I have a dear friend who is in the throes of Step One. This is more than a friend to me. This is a soul-mate, someone I have known since knee socks and saddle shoes, someone with whom I was privileged to share some of the happiest moments of my life. We need each other, and yet are not always good for one another, because we are both extremely codependent. I've been in recovery for years and years; my friend is just now beginning to comprehend.
I encourage and support my friend, often pointing back to therapist, group, book, etc. I often pull away and let the consequences happen.
And I need to recognize with painful clarity exactly what I can reasonably expect from this person, and what I cannot.
I cannot trust this person with my emotional well-being.
This person is not able to take care of me.
If I stay around this person, I will get hurt.
I need to write out #4 and #9 and put them on the refrigerator and the bathroom mirror, so that I cannot escape the truth about myself, because #6 is alive and well in me, and only repeated, consistent working of the Steps will keep me on track.
I see someone regularly who is coaching me on my journey and knows my weaknesses better than I; I have a sister who is exceptionally good at being an accountability partner; and I have my friends, among whom I include those of you who have taken an interest in my meanderings.
This is the toughest test of recovery I've ever been through. I know how dangerous it is for me.
I also know this person very well. This is the kind of codependent which is gentle, meek, and terrified of hurting anyone. I have been through some nasty emotional abuse in my day, the mean, hostile, deliberate kind. It's inconceivable that my friend would act that way. However, my friend is also emotionally abusive, without meaning to be, and intent doesn't matter. I must protect myself, relating the effect on me, then withdrawing.
The realization that "this doesn't work for me any more" is a precious, wonderful gift, and the first step towards a better life; but, damn, it takes us a long time to get there!
It is dangerous. I do get hurt frequently.
And I am not leaving.
It is not perfect. It never is.
Within appropriate boundaries, I can put myself on the line for my friend. Will I look back on this time, and say I made a mistake? I cannot possibly know. I can only take it one day at a time, practice the principles which keep me on the upward path, and let my friend decide the right course to take.
If my friend cannot keep up, or goes down a different road, or turns back, I promise you this: I will not step off the path. It is for God to save the lost sheep, not me. I know my limits. I can walk ahead, mark the trail, sing the uplifting songs, and leave bottles of water and granola bars along the path. I will never turn back. Not even for my friend. I shall never go back to that awful place. It has taken me years to get to where I am. No one is worth losing an inch of that ground.
For some reason, I have found enlightening, moving and meaningful posts in the last few days; I can't help but believe that it's God's way of clearing the cobwebs away and getting me ready for the next step, whatever that may be. I write about it here for the usual reasons, including the hope that you who drop by will keep me accountable and pray for me. My friend needs me. I need my friend. Retreat is not an option. Supporting in humility and constant recourse to the twelve steps for myself is the way I want and need to go, for now.
Just for today.
17 November 2005
What Sign of Affection are You?
I know someone who can verify this is absolutely true:
hand holding - you like to be in constant physical
contact with your special someone but you don't
want to take things too quickly.
What Sign of Affection Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
hand holding - you like to be in constant physical
contact with your special someone but you don't
want to take things too quickly.
What Sign of Affection Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
14 November 2005
OK, the flock got too big
I fed it too many ideas and it needed room to grow, so I've opened another blog, which is linked in the sidebar. If you can stand any more of my nattering, you're invited to check it out. Thanks for your feedback and input. I'm really on a roll!
Well-fed flock - dealing with cravings
For so many of us, cravings gallop all over our internal landscape. They bully us and push us off the trail again and again in our quest for peace with food.
For me, a large part of the process of learning to eat well is learning to manage cravings. For me, there are three parts to my cravings, all of which need attention in order to stay on track:
1.) Physical
2.) Emotional
3.) Natural
Physical
Look at the food you're craving. See if there's a nutritional component which could be something your body desperately needs.
Part of the process towards peace is managing one's blood sugar. That means gradually learning to choose complex instead of simple carbohydrates; becoming a Friend of Fiber; and figuring out what fresh fruits and vegetables are your faves.
Emotional
People either get hungry when they're stressed, or can't eat at all. For those of us who hit the snack drawer, consider alternatives. Add options for yourself like low-fat popcorn, biscotti, or other treats, depending on what you like best to eat at those times.
Natural
Every now and then I want some favorite dish or food which I ordinarily don't have, but which I like a lot. The Cheesecake Factory's fish tacos or salmon salad - not to mention the cheesecake! Or a Real breakfast of eggs and toast and potatoes. I am not bad or weak or a failure because I like those things. It is natural to want something favorite every few months.
Strategies to handle cravings
Make up your mind right now that you will never deny yourself what you crave. Promise yourself this, most solemnly. If you want something badly enough, you will do everything you can to get it for yourself, or the nearest possible thing. Just knowing this will calm a lot of the craving.
There is no emotional freight to a craving. Resist the temptation to add it to your list of things to beat yourself up about. It's not true, so just skip it. It's a craving, not a blot on your character record.
Procrastinate a bit. Sometimes, if you give it an hour, have some water, do something else, you'll forget about it.
If you still want whatever it is, then prepare to eat and enjoy it. Find a pleasant place for your indulgence. Get the food and prepare it. If it's a dessert, eat a healthy meal first, taking your time so that your hunger will be satisfied before you dig in. You deserve to enjoy all of your food.
OK, now comes the big moment you've been waiting for: your treat!! Here's the key to indulgence: "Be in the moment." I don't know about you, but when I get stressed, I get scattered (or vice versa). I eat automatically, just stuffing myself with food, totally unaware of what I'm eating. The solution is:
Stop Everything. Go get the Hershey bar (or whatever it is you want so badly), and go someplace quiet. Now, savor that treat. Unwrap it carefully and look at it. Smell the aroma and imagine how good it will taste. Feel yourself start to salivate in anticipation of the delicious taste. Now, take a bite. Hold it on your tongue and let the flavor overtake your senses. Enjoy the texture of the food, the fragrance or the aroma, and be aware of the relaxation and satisfaction you feel as you consume it. And take your time. Make it last.
You are on a process which is going to last your whole life, and you must learn to manage your cravings for sweets and other foods without the self-denial and mean thoughts which have robbed you of enjoyment and made you feel so terrible about yourself. You deserve that treat, and you deserve to eat it like a human being, from a plate, in a comfortable place, in a situation where you can focus on it and let it fill your senses for a few delicious bites.
I started out applying these techniques to enjoying treat things, then finally figured out that I should approach all my eating this way.
For me, a large part of the process of learning to eat well is learning to manage cravings. For me, there are three parts to my cravings, all of which need attention in order to stay on track:
1.) Physical
2.) Emotional
3.) Natural
Physical
Look at the food you're craving. See if there's a nutritional component which could be something your body desperately needs.
Part of the process towards peace is managing one's blood sugar. That means gradually learning to choose complex instead of simple carbohydrates; becoming a Friend of Fiber; and figuring out what fresh fruits and vegetables are your faves.
Emotional
People either get hungry when they're stressed, or can't eat at all. For those of us who hit the snack drawer, consider alternatives. Add options for yourself like low-fat popcorn, biscotti, or other treats, depending on what you like best to eat at those times.
Natural
Every now and then I want some favorite dish or food which I ordinarily don't have, but which I like a lot. The Cheesecake Factory's fish tacos or salmon salad - not to mention the cheesecake! Or a Real breakfast of eggs and toast and potatoes. I am not bad or weak or a failure because I like those things. It is natural to want something favorite every few months.
Strategies to handle cravings
Make up your mind right now that you will never deny yourself what you crave. Promise yourself this, most solemnly. If you want something badly enough, you will do everything you can to get it for yourself, or the nearest possible thing. Just knowing this will calm a lot of the craving.
There is no emotional freight to a craving. Resist the temptation to add it to your list of things to beat yourself up about. It's not true, so just skip it. It's a craving, not a blot on your character record.
Procrastinate a bit. Sometimes, if you give it an hour, have some water, do something else, you'll forget about it.
If you still want whatever it is, then prepare to eat and enjoy it. Find a pleasant place for your indulgence. Get the food and prepare it. If it's a dessert, eat a healthy meal first, taking your time so that your hunger will be satisfied before you dig in. You deserve to enjoy all of your food.
OK, now comes the big moment you've been waiting for: your treat!! Here's the key to indulgence: "Be in the moment." I don't know about you, but when I get stressed, I get scattered (or vice versa). I eat automatically, just stuffing myself with food, totally unaware of what I'm eating. The solution is:
Stop Everything. Go get the Hershey bar (or whatever it is you want so badly), and go someplace quiet. Now, savor that treat. Unwrap it carefully and look at it. Smell the aroma and imagine how good it will taste. Feel yourself start to salivate in anticipation of the delicious taste. Now, take a bite. Hold it on your tongue and let the flavor overtake your senses. Enjoy the texture of the food, the fragrance or the aroma, and be aware of the relaxation and satisfaction you feel as you consume it. And take your time. Make it last.
You are on a process which is going to last your whole life, and you must learn to manage your cravings for sweets and other foods without the self-denial and mean thoughts which have robbed you of enjoyment and made you feel so terrible about yourself. You deserve that treat, and you deserve to eat it like a human being, from a plate, in a comfortable place, in a situation where you can focus on it and let it fill your senses for a few delicious bites.
I started out applying these techniques to enjoying treat things, then finally figured out that I should approach all my eating this way.
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