September 12

It’s a dark and rainy morning. The brook is a narrow, long, dark cavern between the bank on this side and the huge boulders on the other. The cardinals have been back and forth, but I've not put feeders out. Some leaves are changing color and a few hemlock needles have turned brown. Foliage has opened more, and I can see the house across the brook a little clearer.

My mind is now on putting away summer items. First, I want to clean and re-organize the garage. The goal is to better pack away summer items, store them where I can reach them easier, and hang items out of the way that aren’t used often. Then there are the plants I'd like to re-pot before bringing inside for the winter.

I’m on an energetic roll and I don’t want to stop to eat breakfast. I have a hard time getting back on track when I break the momentum. This is what makes eating breakfast so difficult for me. The creative drive is so strong in the morning and once I stop, no matter what I’m working on or even if I’m bouncing from various projects, all my energy drains.

Even getting up now to throw a croissant in the toaster could put out the flames of creative desire, and though my stomach isn’t feeling hunger, my body physically feels nutrient-drained and I am getting light-headed.

And, after feeling much better and excited about the day, I get a message that I messed up editing a newspaper article last week. I’m so mad at myself. I should have known better.

I’ll write up a correction and move on. That’s all I can do. Apologize all over myself, to myself, let it go, and move on. Mistakes happen.

Living wholeheartedly is dealing with these issues and not allowing them to drag me down. And, for me, it’s in not overthinking and dwelling which is something I’m working on.

Decision-making

The morning started out dark and a little rainy, but by 10 a.m., the sun was breaking through. I went out for a daily walkabout the yard, deadheading spent blossoms, taking photos, and getting distracted doing a garden project. Sunlight reached through the trees to create a beautiful, brilliant spotlight on an otherwise shadow-dark brook.

It was muggy. I was hot after pruning the weigela which was crowding the steps and walkway. A luscious, warm breeze rustled through leaves and felt so good. I was tempted to sit on a bench and just enjoy the moment, but writing was calling me. When a topic is banging around in my head, I have to write and talk about it to let it go.

It's funny how things we feel we've put behind us come back. Burying something isn't the same as letting it go, and we have to let things go before we evolve into the next step of life.

I struggle with making decisions, so much so, I’m often teased about it. I swear I'm getting worse. Do I want the blue pill or the red pill? I can't make up my mind so don’t take either. Oh, oh, here I go -- saying something and the light flashes on.

Maybe this is a past issue that's worked its way back to the surface. In my younger years it seemed all my decisions were the wrong ones. Well, not all, but I always felt my choices were not wise, and even now, part of me believes it while part of me doesn't, and yet, I continue to hem and haw over the smallest things.

I hear Angeles Arriens’ voice in my head telling a story saying, "What if I make the wrong choice?" I have felt that way so often in life. Even decisions made since moving to this house, if I had to do over, I would choose differently.

For instance, one of the latest issues is choosing a new color for the front porch and back deck (both need painting). I want something a little different, still purple, but a lighter shade. I’ve spent weeks trying to decide with trips to the local hardware store to get samples. So far, I’ve tried four new shades, plus there are the leftover paint colors from when everything was painted two-three years ago (done over two summers and I never did totally finish the project). Is it too blue? Is this one too red? Then it looks different in the shade than it does in the sun. I can easily drive myself crazy with indecision.

And, is this indecisiveness an issue I really need to worry about? After all, it’s OK to change my mind. Were those past decisions really wrong? Maybe they were the right choices at the time. I can’t live with regret. So, how can I change my thinking? How can I make a decision without spending hours or days agonizing over the choices?

The bottom line, for the most part, is … it doesn’t really matter. Do I want the red purple or the blue purple? It doesn’t matter. Both are pretty. Do I want to go to the store at 9 a.m. or 11 a.m.? It doesn’t matter unless I want to get takeout for lunch.

So, what is causing me to overthink things these days? It’s one thing to think things over to consider possibilities and it’s another thing to cripple myself in worrying. I’m not helping myself and just twist myself in knots. There’s no reason to get in this stuck mode. Even if I did make poor choices in the past, that was past and has no relevance on today.

I am reminded of the couple of times I did a fire walk. When the time came to walk barefoot over the red, hot coals, the leader would say, “Take a yes in one hand and a no in the other hand. Whichever hand feels strongest, go with it.” In that instant, the yes was the strongest both times and I walked the coals – more than once!

I could adapt that analogy to make decisions now. Also, there’s the “Just Do It!” command to the self, or I could write down the choices and use a pendulum to help me choose.

Whatever the case, I want to stop wasting time hemming and hawing. I’m even working on repeating an affirmation to myself: “I AM Decisive! I make good choices easily. I feel great and I AM Happy!”

More Work on Changing How I Think About Eating

A couple days ago I wrote about my issues with eating. Someone suggested I write more on the subject because talking about this and how I’m striving to be better and live more wholeheartedly could help others find their ways.

I was hesitant because people have ragged on me for years about my eating habits. I know they mean well, but there are times I still deal with past and those old feelings of never doing anything right and never pleasing anybody. Sometimes it feels like everyone is finding fault with me for being me, because I’m not like them. I know, I have to stop taking things so personally.

Then, too, a part of me rebels whenever someone tells me what I have to do. No, I don’t have to! But I know chatting about things opens the door to changes. Yes, sometimes something will be said, and I know I would never do that. However, there are many times someone will mention what they do, and I’ll think, “I could definitely do that!”  

So, do I dare blog? It would be putting myself out there big time and give do-gooders a chance to rag on me. Sharing information and learning something new is always good. Plus, these conversations could help people who also struggle with good eating habits. We don't all have to be health-nuts to eat better and be healthier. And for those who want to be that health-food-conscious, that's OK for them. I'm still going to eat foods I like. I just want to be smarter with when and how much.

The funny thing is, I’ve been healthier than most people my whole life! (Except for being overweight in my adult years.) But now I’m realizing I need to make changes and pay attention to what I’m putting in my body. Physically and mentally I need to make adjustments to my eating habits. Physically, because, well, I just need to eat better. Mentally, because I need to change how I think about eating and food.

Sometimes it takes a long time for things to sink in and these past couple of weeks, all those signs inside I’ve been feeling for a while finally came to a head. Maybe that fall I took last month awoke something within. I realize I can no longer go without sustenance between a snack around 7 p.m. to lunch sometime the following afternoon with only a smoothie and coffee in the morning. Holy crap, I just realized most days I go 12 hours or more without any solid food! No wonder I’ve been feeling unwell.

Wednesday morning breakfast with a friend was good, but for the rest of the day, I didn't eat well in spite of all the chatting lately and the thinking in my head. I only had five mini Snickers throughout the afternoon. Around 6 p.m., I pulled apart the grilled chicken a neighbor had given me the night before, made chicken salad, then put some on two hamburger buns.

Eating two sandwiches in one sitting is something I don't need any more to fill me up, but I always make two because I'm afraid I'll still be hungry. I ate the first one and it filled me up, then ate the second an hour later just because I didn't want to put it in a baggie. Yeah, my tummy got a little queasy.

This morning over two journal pages were about eating! Almost three hours after getting up, while I was journaling, I listened to my body, and as soon as I felt that lightheadedness come on (the precursor to a full-blown headache which then leads to a queasy stomach), I knew I needed to eat.

The smoothie is OK to get me started, but I need something solid. I know that and need to do something about it instead of just thinking about it and continuing with other projects. I told myself I couldn't do any emails until I ate something -- and I did -- English muffin Fluffernutter, especially nice on a cool morning. (I should’ve taken a photo.)

Another thing I notice is I keep talking about eating, but I don't mention meals. Maybe I need to get into eating consistently before I can consider what I eat for a meal … but I’m such a fussy eater. Another excuse to go with the long list of reasons why I don’t eat; and why I need to change my thinking.

I started thinking about the excuses I make to not eat -- like being busy with a project, then jumping right into another one because I don’t want a pause in the creative spark. There are interruptions and distractions. There's the laziness about getting up to put something together or even putting something on a plate or in a bowl and heating it in the microwave. Gosh, I can come up with so many excuses and they mean nothing.

But it is hard taking a meal break when I'm on a creative-idea-mind-flow. I try to take notes while I'm getting food ready, but it's not the same. That streaming word flow is broken. The creative moment changes its oomph and then I can't get it back. I always describe it as: If I don't give the muse 100% attention when she shows up, she goes away. Maybe I could talk to her about this.

Changing How I Think About Eating

In my quest to live wholeheartedly, I sometimes deal with recurring various issues. Getting older certainly has me re-looking at many aspects of life. For instance, my eating habits have always been … peculiar ...

Funny how every time I am determined to change something, it seems to go the opposite way. For instance, I want to cut back on ibuprofen and end up taking more to ease the almost-daily pain. Every time I want to do something different about eating, something usually comes up throwing the new plans into the wind.

Talk about the universe testing me. Oh, you want to make a change? How bad do you want to change? Bad enough to put up with extra crap to get through it?

Then, too, maybe I'm at an age where I recognize things changing all the time. I can’t coast through life, I have to pay attention ... like realizing more solid food, like meat and potatoes, settles better in me than pastas and saucy dishes.

The hardest thing for me about eating more often (besides having on hand food I want to eat) is interrupting whatever I'm doing to get it. Already-prepared meals still need to be heated up, throwing together a sandwich takes some time ... then doing up the dishes. It sounds silly but those few minutes totally interrupts my train of thought on whatever I’m working on.

My mind will be on a highly creative flow and by the time I sit back down again, that moment of inspired consciousness is gone. When I’m in one of those wild stream-of-consciousness, full-blown inspirational times, I have to go with it, even when multiple projects come on top of one another. Those creative bursts are like storm surges with waves coming one after another. To take any pauses when that stream is running strong is like slamming down a dam.

If I don’t pay attention, I mentally crash. The creative desire drains out of me and sometimes weeks go by before the muse returns. What worked before doesn’t anymore. No longer can I go so long without eating that I don’t feel hungry. Now if I go all night and too far into the morning without eating, my physical body crashes. I feel sick, queasy, and headachy.  

I need to find a way to balance creative fire and eating.  I need to relearn what hunger feels like and eat accordingly – not when I’m so hungry I eat too much and too fast. I need to figure out how to keep the creativity active while having meals. It’s time to change my thinking about food. I have to WANT to eat!

Oh! Oh! That's another side of the issue. I don't want to eat! Wow, I wonder if this is some deep-set thing inside because there are so many issues around food and being told what to eat and what not to eat and listening to snide comments of, "If you eat that, you're gonna get fat." Too late. And statements like that make me want to rebel even more to eat what I want -- or don't eat.

I need to come up with some affirmation cards, so the right words are in my face. I know, it sounds silly to have to be reminded to eat. But I get so busy … I need to find the right words that will work for me and not the current trend statements everyone repeats. Every time I hear diet, healthy foods, or any of the latest food fads ... my soul cringes.

The Fall

My foot caught and I pitched forward. My eyes went wide as the deck rose up to meet my face …

I was coming up the steps from the garage, camera and bag with Chinese food in one hand. I noticed something I’d left on the back-deck railing and decided to get it. Stepping up the one step to the deck, I caught the toe of my old, falling apart Birkenstock.

Bang! I went down face first, so fast and so hard. All I remembered was a flash of the deck rising to meet my face as I slammed onto the surface. I didn’t have time to brace myself or react. (Maybe that was a good thing.)

 “AArrghh! Owwww!” A slight scream, a few loud wails. Phew, my face didn’t smash onto the floor. My chest and belly saved me (being round has some advantages).

But I was in such shock I couldn’t even swear! Immediately my mind went to: Did I want to yell loud enough to attract neighbors? (Not that many are around this time of day.) I envisioned lying outside all night with ants crawling and biting and no one finding me. Stop that thinking!

I shut my mouth around the whimpers and moans telling myself to calm and relax. I lay still. I knew I had to give my body a few minutes before I tried moving. My mind cleared, and I assessed my situation. I hurt, but nothing felt broken. My right knee and elbow were screaming telling me these hit hardest.

For a few seconds came a fear I wouldn’t be able to get up. I quelled that thought, telling myself, “I am strong!” I slowly moved, pushing off my arm/elbow. Oh yes, it hurt. I rolled onto my side, then into a sitting position, and realized I really couldn’t get up from the flat surface without anything to hold onto. Now what? Think … think …

Maybe if I work my way over to the step and slide my legs over the edge, I could reach the corner of the doorway and use it for leverage. The momentum of my fall carried me about five feet from the step (well, it would as that’s about how tall I am.)

I inched forward on my butt hoping not to get wood splinters (the deck needs painting). I made it and reached for the side of the doorway. The house siding wasn’t stable, and the reach was too far to give the leverage I needed to pull myself up. The rise of the step was too low for me to be able to push myself into a standing position without help. OK, what now?

I slid my butt down onto the landing and butt-inched my way to the steps leading to the ground. With my feet on the first step down, I was able to use the higher rise of the stairs and leverage of the post to stand up. My leg held my weight. I put my foot on the landing and pulled myself up. Yes, I could walk if I was careful!

I painfully limped over to the camera. I couldn’t believe it still worked. It hit the deck hard, too. The Chinese food was OK although one of the boxes was damaged and food spilled into the bag. My Birkenstocks, both of which had fallen off my feet, are toast. The one whose toe caught the step now has the soul split in half from the toe to mid shoe. Stubborn me even gimped over to grab the mat off the railing I originally was going after.

I called my neighbor. That’s when I started to cry. I assured him I was OK. I sat down. Let myself feel a little sorry for what happened, then started thinking about how lucky I was. I could have been seriously injured and how long would I have lain there before anyone found me?

Surprisingly, I didn’t cry a lot; not like I normally would have over situations. One of the hardest parts was still feeling in shock. My body not only felt physically bruised, but mentally and spiritually bruised, too. This was a close call. If I had tripped on any of the other stairs, it might be a totally different story … or if I’d really smashed my face.

As for the physical injuries: the bruise to my leg is a spot just below the kneecap and lateral about the size of my palm; the elbow injury is more of an abrasion medial to the elbow. I am so lucky I didn’t land directly on the kneecap or right on the elbow.

A few hours passed and I still felt a little queasy and shook up. The area below my knee hurt and felt funny-stiff when I walked. Which is kind of ironic because outside of looking a little swollen (hard to tell with my fat legs), there doesn’t look to be much damage … unless I just can’t see it.

This was the first time I’ve ever fallen like this (except when trying tricks when ice skating years ago.)

Thankfully, I slept fairly well, but by morning, the muscle aches were present, both arms, torso, and right side. I didn’t attempt the exercise routine. It even hurt a bit to breathe, which is not surprising considering how hard I body slammed the deck.

I am so lucky! It could have been much worse.

Having the right mindset

575. Dear Divine Presence: Thank you for reminding me of the importance of having the right mindset and understanding needed to tackle a challenging situation. I need to clear my mind of unnecessary chatter and create an energy and a positiveness to get the job done. I can do this! Love and Success, Sasha.

Giving CBD Oil a Try Part 1

It’s funny (not really funny, more irritating) that I write in my mind while doing morning exercise, but by the time I sit down to actually write, what was in my mind has been erased. I have to start over …

I started hearing about CBD oil about a year ago. I related it to marijuana. I know quite a few people who smoke, and I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t see pot as a drug. However, it’s never been anything I’m interested in. I tried it a couple times when I was in my 20s but didn’t like it. (I know, some people say, “She didn’t really inhale.”) But I just didn’t like feeling I didn’t have control of my body, nor did I like doing anything illegal. I always got my highs from good conversation, seeing beauty in nature, enjoying a good walk in the woods or at the beach, etc.

I’ve been struggling for years with the ups and downs of depression. (I’ll admit it now, but until this year, I refused to call it depression.) I noticed a cycle; I’d be fine for a few months, then for a couple months when I’d be on the downward spiral. For years I handled it with meditation, tai chi, writing, and other ways of relaxing the mind and soul. I always knew after a bit of sadness I’d come out of it and be OK until the next cycle. It was part of life.

After my mother passed away, it seems the pressures of life began to weigh heavy. Maybe part of it had to do with living alone, except, for the most part, I like living alone. The times I was sad started to be almost as often as I was happy. I blamed it on the loss of my mother for a long time because I missed her so much, and I dealt with the downward cycles doing what I do. Then in 2016, when I was traveling, I experienced what I felt was my first real anxiety attack. That scared the daylights out of me, and I worked hard to not let that happen again.

As the next couple of years went on, I noticed my downward spirals became more frequent. I’d cry at the drop of a hat, I’d have trouble dealing with any kind of legal document or filling out a form, I couldn’t make decisions because I wouldn’t be able to make up my mind, I felt I had so much to do and I couldn’t get it all done, and the it was all speeding up and getting out of control, and time was running out – oh, it went on. I realized I was having more anxiety attacks!

Some suggested I see a doctor and get meds. No way! I refuse to buy into that (for myself – I know it’s necessary for many others.) However, this year between the hounding of health insurances and Medicare supplement ads, scam phone calls invading my privacy, begging phone calls (every organization wanting money), not being able to get real people on the phone and having to go through all those automated prompts with me screaming obscenities at the fake callers, and feeling I was working and “on” all the time, I felt I was falling into a pit I couldn’t get out of. How could I continue to live wholeheartedly if I was falling apart all the time?

I started paying more attention to the stories I heard about CBD oil and how it was helping with anxiety and pain. I became more intrigued and started asking questions. I was subtle, not sure who I could trust in bringing up the subject. But suddenly, it seemed to be all over the news and on a trip to Hampton Beach in June, I saw CBD products in two different stores!

But I didn’t dare buy anything. I didn’t know what to buy and if I did, would the police be pulling me over farther down the road after capturing me on camera.

I did some research, looked up websites, talked to people. Info had me cautious of what exactly to buy and where; there are many varieties and places. And it’s not cheap! The first few sites I looked at wouldn’t take credit cards, so what website could I use or what store should I go to? I couldn’t decide and would prefer to purchase local.

An offhand comment to someone and I had a contact and obtained my first bottle of CBD oil tincture. The directions said to put three to five drops under the tongue twice a day. I didn’t dare try it the first night, but early on July 1, I took two drops, not expecting much.

Almost immediately my mind felt clear. All the weight that’d been pushing me down for the past few years and getting heavier, was lifted. Almost instantly. Of course, I didn’t trust it. It had to be a fluke … all in my mind, right?

Was this a high? No, I didn’t feel a buzz or high. My mind felt clear and I felt centered and grounded. I continued with my day changing sheets, doing laundry, working outside. My legs still ached horribly, so the pain wasn’t relieved, but the mental relief was remarkable.

I was still feeling so mentally well later, I decided to tackle a price increase with Comcast which I’d been putting off. For once I didn’t get upset with the automated prompts, and when I wasn’t satisfied with the results, I took courage and called TDS to switch providers. Wow, I got through all that remaining calm and not swearing at anyone!

I debated taking more drops at bedtime. I decided to try it and took two more drops at 9 p.m. I fell asleep before finishing my gratitude prayers and even though I got up three time during the night, when I did sleep, the sleep was deep and restful. Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.

Stay tuned for more …