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| Tyler Gregory |
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
INSPIRATION
I stumbled on this video "Jacob and the Guitar Man" a few hours ago and it made my day. Jacob is an autistic kid who is also blind, and clearly loves music. The way he gravitated toward Tyler Gregory and his music on the streets of Lawrence, KS is powerful. It definitely stirred something in my soul to see such clear purpose, intent, attraction, and love. A clear reminder that sometimes having differences that some people consider "disabilities" actually allows one to be more closely connected to the things that really matter in life, and experience pleasure and joy in ways that we perhaps can only imagine. Anyway, enough from me. Here's the video:
Definitely check out Tyler Gregory's response on his website. I love the way he described his interaction with Jacob. We need more people to testify about the mysterious exchange between people that constitutes the backbone of life. Also, how can you not love a guy busking on the streets of Kansas, trying to sell enough CDs to buy an RV that runs off waste vegetable oil so he can tour and play more music? Seriously, that alone is worth supporting him. To read about his response, click here.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
GOOD NIGHT, GANDHI
Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.
-Mahatma Gandhi
About to call it a day after, well, a pretty dang difficult day. I heard this quote the other night from a very unlikely source. Let's just say it's in my Netflix queue and involves an epically naughty yet enchanting place called Wisteria Lane. Anyway, that's neither here nor there. It's the Gandhi quote that really matters.
Raising a child with special needs has been the adventure of a lifetime, and I'm so proud of how far our little family has come in such a short time. Proud, but tired. Some days just feel heavy in a way that nothing in life has really prepared me for thus far. That's why this quote from Gandhi really resonated with me when I heard it. It's hard but important to remember that sometimes we are called to have an indomitable will, even in the face of physical bodies that are less than perfect and can fail us. Days when I worry, or start to feel overwhelmed, here's something else to think about from (who else?) Monsieur Gandhi:
There is nothing that wastes the body like worry, and one who has any faith in God
should be ashamed to worry about anything whatsoever.
Get sassy, Gandhi. I love that he's kind of a hard ass about this. When I can actually feel my physical body exhausted from worry or concern over seizures, or development, or whatever particular thing might be plaguing my mind that day, I'm committing to remember Gandhi's words. First of all, worry takes it's toll on our bodies. Second, if we have faith in God, there is nothing for us to be worried about.
I know how totally naive this must sound to an atheist, but today it gives me a lot of comfort. And come on, people, it's Gandhi for goodness sake. He has to be kinda on to something.
So I'll leave you with a little hope at the close of day. I just got this picture earlier in the week from someone who attended my child's baptism in New Orleans over Easter. It was a magical evening, hosted by the incredible Worship Society of St. Polycarp in NOLA. Such a welcoming bunch of people with a deep sense of celebration and investigation of their faith and its expression. We were so honored to be part of this community for their Easter Vigil and our daughter's baptism. It reminded me that the good in the universe really can find a way to shine through, even in the dark of night.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
ASPIRATIONS
It took me a while to figure out the most appropriate name for this post. BASICS- too blah, life is already kind of lame these days. THE GROUND RULES- too punitive sounding for what I want. Aspirations felt just right. The best I can muster right now is to aspire- of course, I’m trying to aspire with self-discipline, so hopefully that will translate to achieve. You’ll know when I post that title.
At any rate, I’m setting some eating aspirations for the next month or two. I’m considering putting my child on a gluten-free diet (long story, probably a whole other blog) and so I’m considering nutrition a lot these days. I am also feeling inspired from some of my close friends who have really worked the farm-to-table thing in the past few years and revolutionized their homes, kitchens, lifestyles and waist lines in the process. Their approach was inspired by culture, wellness, and the crazy politics surrounding the food “revolution” in the last half-century. As I mentioned before, my quest is about that elusive balance of wellness and vanity. So why not throw an ode to farmer’s markets in the mix?
Here are the things to which I aspire, at least in my own often weak sort of way. Honesty is one of my gifts, so I promise to let you know how it goes with full disclosure:
At any rate, I’m setting some eating aspirations for the next month or two. I’m considering putting my child on a gluten-free diet (long story, probably a whole other blog) and so I’m considering nutrition a lot these days. I am also feeling inspired from some of my close friends who have really worked the farm-to-table thing in the past few years and revolutionized their homes, kitchens, lifestyles and waist lines in the process. Their approach was inspired by culture, wellness, and the crazy politics surrounding the food “revolution” in the last half-century. As I mentioned before, my quest is about that elusive balance of wellness and vanity. So why not throw an ode to farmer’s markets in the mix?
Here are the things to which I aspire, at least in my own often weak sort of way. Honesty is one of my gifts, so I promise to let you know how it goes with full disclosure:
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
BACK IN THE SADDLE
Or perhaps a more appropriate title would be: Back in the Saddle Bags. I’m not sure how July blew past me or where it went. The month at my house was packed with wonderful people and lots of joy. And what better way to celebrate the people you love than with food and drink and lots of it? My heart couldn’t agree with you more. My pants, the ones that fit better in May, beg to differ.
This month, our summer travels have come to an end and we aren’t expecting guests for a while, so it’s time to chart a new course. I’m sure people with more discipline than me can navigate the fun while observing healthy and moderate consumption, but as a species I’m just not that highly evolved. At least not yet. Anyone who has functional pointers about indulging while on vacay without blowing it out of the water, please feel free to share.
My goal is to explore/try/research/discuss different ideas relating to wellness that are floating around in the ether right now, and commit myself to avoiding a life of excess and eating much more consciously. I also want to move my ass and breathe deeper while finding ways to marry what sometimes seems the impossible: Health AND Vanity. We’ll see how it goes.
I had a rich conversation with one of my best friends a few months ago about the psychological components of weight loss. Letting go of our extra layers- whether we built them out of protection, depression, negligence, or anger- is also very much about letting go of excess weight in our emotional life. I feel that keenly in my personal and physical life right now, and I’m determined to re-negotiate it.
So I’m starting with my lady pouch. I mentioned in an earlier post that I had a baby 17 months ago, and one of the party favors left over from the pregnancy is a stomach full of sleeping muscles and stored fat that I once heard a trainer refer to as a “lady pouch.” Hmmmm. What might I be hiding in my said pouch, you might ask?
Observations. Lots of them. Like here's one for starters:
There’s no f***ing gender equity in America.
Sure, we’ve got Title IV and company initiatives to try and “balance the boardroom”, but what about the perceived expectations of women in our society outside of the workplace? For many of my working mother friends, it’s not their day jobs that they struggle with. It’s their night jobs- the ones where they come back from an 8 hour shift to manage a household full of people while simultaneously cooking dinner, changing diapers, and paying bills in their down time. Oh, and then there’s the expectation to look more fabulous, be more thin, and have even better skin later in life than any generation before us.
And it would be one thing if the same expectations applied to men, but that’s simply not the case. One job is plenty for them, and their grey hair makes them distinguished. As long as our guy is treating us right, his potbelly (or “sympathy” weight as some people call it during a woman’s pregnancy, actually making the guy come off kind of sweet and sensitive for getting fat) can be celebrated as down right cute.
Take this Nivea ad, for instance:
Seriously? Ads oriented towards women feature extremely thin girls who are then airbrushed to look even more thin and perfect, and contemporary diet gurus are encouraging women to avoid solid food for 30 days and work out 90 minutes a day for six days a week in order to defy genetics and obtain the body we’ve always wanted. And men? What is their gold standard?
Look like you give a damn.
Awesome.
Glad I understand the parameters. That said, I’m about to jump back into this madness and try to stake my claim while unloading, both literally and metaphorically, the proverbial lady pouch. So here’s my attempt to work my way through all the bodycentric madness and simply start trying, like all the dudes around me, to look like I give a damn. Hope you’ll come along for the ride.
This month, our summer travels have come to an end and we aren’t expecting guests for a while, so it’s time to chart a new course. I’m sure people with more discipline than me can navigate the fun while observing healthy and moderate consumption, but as a species I’m just not that highly evolved. At least not yet. Anyone who has functional pointers about indulging while on vacay without blowing it out of the water, please feel free to share.
My goal is to explore/try/research/discuss different ideas relating to wellness that are floating around in the ether right now, and commit myself to avoiding a life of excess and eating much more consciously. I also want to move my ass and breathe deeper while finding ways to marry what sometimes seems the impossible: Health AND Vanity. We’ll see how it goes.
I had a rich conversation with one of my best friends a few months ago about the psychological components of weight loss. Letting go of our extra layers- whether we built them out of protection, depression, negligence, or anger- is also very much about letting go of excess weight in our emotional life. I feel that keenly in my personal and physical life right now, and I’m determined to re-negotiate it.
So I’m starting with my lady pouch. I mentioned in an earlier post that I had a baby 17 months ago, and one of the party favors left over from the pregnancy is a stomach full of sleeping muscles and stored fat that I once heard a trainer refer to as a “lady pouch.” Hmmmm. What might I be hiding in my said pouch, you might ask?
Observations. Lots of them. Like here's one for starters:
There’s no f***ing gender equity in America.
Sure, we’ve got Title IV and company initiatives to try and “balance the boardroom”, but what about the perceived expectations of women in our society outside of the workplace? For many of my working mother friends, it’s not their day jobs that they struggle with. It’s their night jobs- the ones where they come back from an 8 hour shift to manage a household full of people while simultaneously cooking dinner, changing diapers, and paying bills in their down time. Oh, and then there’s the expectation to look more fabulous, be more thin, and have even better skin later in life than any generation before us.
And it would be one thing if the same expectations applied to men, but that’s simply not the case. One job is plenty for them, and their grey hair makes them distinguished. As long as our guy is treating us right, his potbelly (or “sympathy” weight as some people call it during a woman’s pregnancy, actually making the guy come off kind of sweet and sensitive for getting fat) can be celebrated as down right cute.
Take this Nivea ad, for instance:
Seriously? Ads oriented towards women feature extremely thin girls who are then airbrushed to look even more thin and perfect, and contemporary diet gurus are encouraging women to avoid solid food for 30 days and work out 90 minutes a day for six days a week in order to defy genetics and obtain the body we’ve always wanted. And men? What is their gold standard?
Look like you give a damn.
Awesome.
Glad I understand the parameters. That said, I’m about to jump back into this madness and try to stake my claim while unloading, both literally and metaphorically, the proverbial lady pouch. So here’s my attempt to work my way through all the bodycentric madness and simply start trying, like all the dudes around me, to look like I give a damn. Hope you’ll come along for the ride.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
SIX WEEKS TO SKINNY
When I initiated this blog, the first title that came to my mind was “Six Weeks to Skinny.” My intention was to try and have six weeks of devoted “mindful eating” and exercise as I was staring a beach trip in the face and felt with some level of desperation that it was really, finally, absolutely time to get my ass in gear. Sixteen months ago I gave birth to an amazing little girl, and my life has pretty much been chaos ever since. To say it’s been organized chaos would actually be a stretch. I got pregnant 5 months into my marriage (there goes the honeymoon phase) quite unexpectedly, and on some days feel that the level of adjustment being a wife AND a mom require are just too much for me. And I have a full time job. And I fancy myself a writer. Most days I wander around in a sort of functional haze, trying to find creative ways to fix my hair so it’s not painfully obvious that I haven’t showered in a week.
At any rate, when I found myself eating ice cream every evening as a way to make myself feel like I’d really “enjoyed” something that day, I knew it was time to re-think things. Getting in long and torturing work-outs was not an option because
A) I don’t do long and torturous work outs- really, why would I? and
B) My time and our financial resources are as tight as they’ve ever been
The solution I was looking for had to be realistic, pleasurable, affordable, and at least kind of interesting.
So I started a blog.
I know, I know- not the most active of pursuits. But hopefully it’s a way for me to rally my spirit, do something I love (communicate!), and hold myself accountable as I re-fashion my image as a super fabulous 30-something young, hip, attractive mommy who thinks. A stretch? Maybe. Hence the name of the blog. Most days you would have to feed me quaaludes on top of a margarita to convince me that I could be a skinny optimist, but we all need something to strive for.
Skinny is obvious. I want my bikini back. Not that I’ve ever had a hot bikini body, but I do feel very convinced that diet and exercise are essential to my well-being and only come through self-care. I suppose it's really about feeling good in my own skin. Though it would be awesome to feel good in my own skin in a bikini- is that too much to ask? Skinny remains an ideal as much as anything- albeit abstract at times- and I look forward to unpacking the concept of skinny more in these entries.
I’m guessing that optimism is self-explanatory. In these days of functional haze, hope and faith are the gold standard in my life. Present, sure, but not always accessible. It’s only in my ability to really imagine and envision a better me, a better life, a better marriage, and a better future for my daughter that the tiny articulations of the skinny optimist begin to take shape. Ambitious? Yes. Possible? I think so. There’s beauty, after all, in the valor of attempt.
At any rate, when I found myself eating ice cream every evening as a way to make myself feel like I’d really “enjoyed” something that day, I knew it was time to re-think things. Getting in long and torturing work-outs was not an option because
A) I don’t do long and torturous work outs- really, why would I? and
B) My time and our financial resources are as tight as they’ve ever been
The solution I was looking for had to be realistic, pleasurable, affordable, and at least kind of interesting.
So I started a blog.
I know, I know- not the most active of pursuits. But hopefully it’s a way for me to rally my spirit, do something I love (communicate!), and hold myself accountable as I re-fashion my image as a super fabulous 30-something young, hip, attractive mommy who thinks. A stretch? Maybe. Hence the name of the blog. Most days you would have to feed me quaaludes on top of a margarita to convince me that I could be a skinny optimist, but we all need something to strive for.
Skinny is obvious. I want my bikini back. Not that I’ve ever had a hot bikini body, but I do feel very convinced that diet and exercise are essential to my well-being and only come through self-care. I suppose it's really about feeling good in my own skin. Though it would be awesome to feel good in my own skin in a bikini- is that too much to ask? Skinny remains an ideal as much as anything- albeit abstract at times- and I look forward to unpacking the concept of skinny more in these entries.
I’m guessing that optimism is self-explanatory. In these days of functional haze, hope and faith are the gold standard in my life. Present, sure, but not always accessible. It’s only in my ability to really imagine and envision a better me, a better life, a better marriage, and a better future for my daughter that the tiny articulations of the skinny optimist begin to take shape. Ambitious? Yes. Possible? I think so. There’s beauty, after all, in the valor of attempt.
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