Bring It Back To The Breath

Take a little Chaos. Add two parts Greener Grass. And some Goldilocks. Welcome to my summer. Lovely. I'm looking into filing for a do-over.

My initial strategy to cope with change and loss in my life was Deny & Distract for as long as possible. Don't get enough sleep. Don't exercise enough, and eat too much. Then cry in public at inappropriate moments. (They still don't know what to do with me, but at this point I can barely work up the energy to care.)

My body has been nearly as much of a mess as my emotional state. At the ripe old age of 32, I don't seem to recover from late nights, overindulgence, injury, etc. quite like I used to. The handstand incident injury and my knee issues linger. Apparently, you are supposed to actually do your physical therapy for things to get better, or something. Also as strangely, eating more and exercising less doesn't so much help you fit into your favorite jeans. For me, momentum is everything when it comes to taking care of myself. When the emotional slump starts and exercise goes out the window, it feels insurmountable to get back on track. Even the threat of public humiliation didn't get me going. I did one mini-triathlon at the beginning of the summer, but I let it slide so much that I didn't even try to do the Danskin, therefore wasting a ton of work over the winter and spring.

When my Mom suggested trying yoga again and offered it as a birthday present, I was intrigued. And of course, slightly desperate.

My first class in years started a little rough, but I knew it was good. I was astounded by how sweet it tasted to take a purposeful deep breath. I think I kind of forgot about breathing for a while there. Though my brain won't hold still for more than two seconds - except to focus on counting Lululemon labels around the room and wonder if I would be better at yoga if I was wearing $60 tank top ('cause I know the point of yoga is soooo all about materialism). A moment of mixed success came when the teacher led us through a breathing exercise where you press one nostril closed at a time - which did stop the rest of my brain for a while as I became consumed with how frustrating the exercise was. Baby steps, I guess.

It's been about a month of yoga, and my muscles now beg for it if I skip a day. Which makes me slightly alarmed about how stiff and disconnected I must usually be. I am also attracted to yoga's potential for spiritual connection as well, since it didn't seem fair to sit in church and complain about them talking about Jesus too much. But I need sources of wisdom. And to feel some grace.

I'm hoping breathing can help.

The Leftovers Test

The last one was a tortoise that started 20 years ago and never got anywhere. Then it's too fast, too soon, and I jump ship. Apparently.

The Banker could not have been more sweet or interesting or attentive. He made me laugh and made me feel appreciated. But when it all came at me at once, I backed away. Perhaps less than two weeks between romantic entanglements is not enough. Was it rebound? Was it timing? Or do we blame timing when things just aren't falling into place? I was incredibly appreciative of his willingness to put his heart out there. I wish mine could have jumped out to meet it. Maybe it was difference in style and communication. Maybe it wasn't meant to be.

It could also be that I am just the problem. A lot is changing around me at the moment, and I've been having kind of a hard time holding it together. I have not been my usual relatively-generous self, and I'm afraid he felt the impact of my angst. In my less-than-patient state, what was once charming became annoying; what was welcomed invitation became imposition. And I didn't handle it so gracefully.

All I know is that when he started eating the Pad See Ew left on my plate and I realized that I wanted those leftovers more than I wanted to be nice and share with him, I knew I was not in a place to be a good partner.

Perhaps a new dating test: if you have trouble choosing between him and the leftovers, let him go. Preferably earlier, rather than later - not after you've tried and failed to change this reality, which did more damage and made a further mess of things. Not that I would know anything about that...

Long Time No Blog

No need for public introspection in the last month? Unlikely. More like I stopped being able to steal high speed internet from my neighbor and have been banished to the realm of DIAL UP. And I've been using Facebook for my virtual social interaction (at least that's slightly more two-directional, right?!). But lucky for you, the impulse to pour my heart out on the internet has flared up again.

Since I've been gone...

Budget: pretty darn good still. Amazingly. How glad am I to already be on the right track when things like suddenly have to move and global economic crisis hit?! And I actually feel like I have more money now, by knowing how much I actually have. Though, I still often wish "how much I have" was more...

Food: lovin' cooking things from the Farmers Market. Slowly building my competence and confidence in the kitchen. Did you know you can turn on the oven to 400 degrees, spritz with a little olive oil and salt and pepper, and roast just about any vegetable to perfection? Just a matter of knowing when it's best to pull it out. Why didn't someone tell me that earlier?!

Health/Fitness: looking into it. Not loving the post-injury waistline. Not cute - even when we call it the "sympathy bump" for one of my best friends who is pregnant.Goin' easy on the knee; still frustratingly temperamental. Played some volleyball OK last week. Yay.

Love Life: sucks. Pulling myself together after some quality time only being attracted to people I can't or shouldn't have. Apparently, I refuse to pursue the one lead on a possibly mature adult I've gotten - yet, I reserve the right to complain.

Moving Shock: recovering and adjusting. Big News... I'm moving into my parents' house. My parents have pretty much moved out to the beach full time, so their cute little house sits empty. They've offered to move out of the main part of the house and just use a bedroom in the basement via the downstairs door for if/when they do want to stay in town. Will it be a safe refuge while I get my own "house" in order? Or opening an old can of worms?! We'll see. Maybe both. Luckily, I have until the end of November to actually move.

Current state of mind: hangin' in there. It's that time of year when everything/one starts getting crazy busy - all the while talking about needing S.A.D. lights for our Seattle depression. (I already have one, btw.) I've started living on Emergen-C to try to avoid the munchkin germs.

And the instinct to turn inward for the winter has begun.

Just When I Think I'm Getting It

Why, when I am so sure that I know what I want, am I pulled in other directions? I spend so much time trying to learn to listen to my heart. Then when I listen, it leads me astray. Attracted directly to people I can't or shouldn't have. Not fair.

Why, when I am so sure I have a clear head about certain old issues, can they still blow me over with one small puff? I can't/don't want to spend money, so where does that longing go? Back to Food, apparently. Perfect timing for it to be the hot topic all around me. People finding the answer to their problems by controlling what they put in their mouth. Perfectly awful timing.

Solution: quit being so sure. (?)

Nina Luna finds her kitchen.

I don't cook very often because I don't think I do it well enough. Perfectionism (aka my constant companion and shadow) keeps me away. And of course eating is still not uncomplicated for me even after over a decade of healing from an eating disorder. If I do cook, it is in a Conquer kind of way: get a big idea and make a big production trying it once, then good or not - it usually seems like too much work to bother again.

But an unexpected result of my current romantic relationship is more time in the kitchen... somehow the gentle and accepting company of this particular companion has helped me be open enough to take this risk. Luckily, I have received a lot of personal coaching from my friend who cooks good food as naturally as she breathes. It started, of course, with bacon and brussels sprouts. Then came the fajitas - which turned out OK, but a little too chewy. Then I successfully tackled lasagna - after my friend calmed me in the midst of a dating crisis with the wise words, "A lot can be healed with lasagna." There was even a side trip into baking apple pie, which I have lots of practice at - I seem to be more comfortable baking. Or just more motivated to eat those baked treats.

Then, last Monday I read my favorite food/love/life blogger and came home to happily make her latest recipe for dinner. This might seem pretty ordinary to some people. But to me? Miraculous. Cooking on a weeknight just feels like way too much unnecessary frustration. And I am often limited to certain foods or textures as dictated by my emotional state, like my fascination with cottage cheese and rice crackers when I have an angry need to crunch but a milky comforting longing as well. In general, I often don't feel satisfied with a meal unless it somehow involves cheese. I probably ate Trader Joe's frozen pizza and a wild greens salad at least four nights a week for about two years. I'm still not sure exactly what emotional need that was filling, but the compulsion seemed like a little more than really liking pizza.

But the point is that something may finally be shifting inside of me. With some help and new perspective on food itself. This blogger, Shauna, gives recipes and directions but with rich context and an amazing passion for food. Like my friend with the lasagna advice, Shauna speaks in the language of textures, smells, and preferred taste more than exact volumes and specific amounts of time. The openness and focus on learning the process rather than rigidly following directions gives me the information, but with freedom. And the way she talks about food is teaching me to savor each aroma, color, and flavor with real creativity and love. Food not only can sustain life but enrich your life. It's not just something to fight against and control and resent. Who knew?!

And enjoying my kitchen tools really helps - I am in love with my cast iron pans (thank you Uncle Jim). There is something so timeless and wholesome about them. Seasoning them feels like caring for old friends. I picture pioneers cooking with them over open campfires and grandmothers with rich equatorial skin pulling them out of outdoor clay ovens. And they work really well.

This week I was inspired enough to feel like it was creative and fun. So I made Shauna's savory black beans. (The grape tomatoes on the top make it a masterpiece - I couldn't find yellow, but red were delicious.) I cooked them along with some rice, quick chili-lime prawns, and roasted asparagus. And enjoyed myself.


File under: small victories and simple delights... like actually using my sewing room to sew. I know, I'm getting it. Sometimes it just takes me a while.

My Love Affair with Bacon

It was bacon all week last week. No joke. It started with BLTs and root beer floats (the brilliant boy's idea), yum. Then eggs and bacon. And a strip of bacon here and there on the go. Another BLT for good measure. Then the clincher... the Bacon Party thrown by good friends.

The Bacon Party was lovely. Probably one of the loveliest parties I've ever been to - not just because of the bacon, but because of the mix of good friends to see again and really nice people to meet. Usually I dread "stand around and talk to people" parties. But I credit L & B, the hosts, for being two of the kindest, most genuine, and intelligent people I know, so I shouldn't be surprised when the people they surround themselves with are stellar as well. The brussels sprouts and kale I made (cooked in bacon fat, of course) turned out really well. I've never cooked brussels sprouts, but I thought it was a fantastic balance of seemingly opposite foods.

But as someone who has had so many painful issues with food and weight, allowing myself to savor something so devilishly good is simultaneously essential and a miracle. And I'm trusting those miles on the bike to start paying off...