Thursday, January 21, 2010 much to say

It has been a few days since my last blog.  There are many topics I'd like to write about.  Where do I begin?

First, an update on my striving toward consistency.  As planned, I'm running three days a week, weight-training three days, and practicing yoga almost daily.  My body feels fantastic.  Increased activity is purging any extra 'baggage' I've been carrying around...emotionally as well as physically.  Strange that a lot of old hurts have resurfaced.  Apparently I didn't process them properly the first time around.  Exorcising through exercising?  I suppose, in a way, I'm reliving my life, trying to make sense of it all, so I can set it free.  Set myself free, like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.  Time to leave that shell and fly.  Time to celebrate today and remain hopeful about tomorrow.

One day this week I listened to Leonard Cohen while running.  Usually when I run I don't carry an iPod because I don't want to be distracted by music; I want to hear the sounds of waves lapping the sandy beach, or seagulls laughing.  I negotiated with myself: take the iPod but turn the volume down low enough that I can still hear the sounds of nature.  With waves and gulls -- and other noises -- providing the backtrack, music sounds completely different now.  And I'm running to music that makes me think, instead of motivating me to move my body.  Think Bob Dylan instead of, I don't know, Lady Gaga.  Ironically, I am running faster than I have in about a decade (maybe ever).  So back to my point about LC...his lyrics are profound, his voice haunting.  Background vocals are a bit too 60s-ish -- light and airy.  (Ugh, think "To Sir With Love".)  Together, though, they convey powerful messages, track after track.  I was mesmerized -- and didn't notice whether the waves were "going off" or flat.  I'm changed.  I will always take music with me when I run.

Two LC tracks really affected me: "Last Year's Man" and "So long, Marianne."  Man addresses social issues relative to the 60s but is relevant today, too.  Especially the part about war.  While listening to it I thought a lot about the cyclical nature of society, patterns that develop throughout history.  Marianne also deals with social issues but is written in the context of a casual encounter between a man and a woman named Marianne.  At least this is how I interpret it.  When the song begins, it is the morning after their tryst.  They are friends, or acquaintances, but not lovers.  They are unsure what to say to each other now, so they part ways rather awkwardly.  Maybe they feel ashamed, or confused.  Ultimately they agree to "laugh and cry, cry and laugh about it all again."  They have given themselves permission to let go.  By listening to the song, I granted myself permission, too.  Now I can say "so long, Marianne" to negative thoughts after I have processed them, rather than packing them away.

Back to "consistency"...I know, I'm taking a long time with this post today.  That's consistent!  :)  Eating raw all day and a cooked meal at night, sometimes a raw meal, is preparing me for the "challenge."  For 30 days I will eat nothing but fresh fruit and vegetables, soaked nuts and sprouted seeds and legumes, and a few gourmet raw meals.  I have been vacillating about this, because a) I don't need to lose any weight and b) I'm afraid.  (Wow, where did that come from?)  Let's start with "a"...I'm 15 lbs lighter than my pre-pregnancy weight, a whopping 50 lbs less than the day I had Sage.  My exercise regimen keeps the weight off and is beginning to build muscle; I will start gaining weight now.  Totally OK with that.  Now for "b"...hmm.  What is it about eating raw that makes me feel afraid?  (Hold on a sec, I'm thinking about this...)  Oh yes, ding ding ding, we have a winner.  And the answer is...fear of success!  Welcome back, old friend.  Another consistent moment...

On a superficial level, I fear that eating raw and living foods will feel so good and be so good for me, that I will want to give up cooked food forever.  Although I have been about 50% raw for more than a year, and really enjoy eating this way, I still look forward to my evening comfort meal.  My comfort food might taste better, but if raw really feels better, I will be ready to make the transition.  On a deeper level, transitioning to a 100% raw and living lifestyle is symbolic of my new future.  As excited as I am about these changes to come, I am a bit apprehensive about them.  Whoa, this discussion about food is getting too deep.  Maybe I'm not ready to analyze and accept my feelings about it yet.  More to come, I'm sure.

Despite my absence here, I have been writing consistently in my journal.  My super journal!  I have combined all my journals into one place: personal journal, financial journal, exercise and diet journal, etc.  My super journal helps me to keep track of my many roles.  I love it!  Writing in it frees my mind to dream...A lot of the things I've written about there have inspired ideas for this blog.  But today's rambling mess was brought to you on fleet feet.  In other words, I "wrote" this post while running yesterday.

My point today, then...yes, I do have success is achieved, in part, through consistency.  I have been consistent in running, eating well, and writing.  The one area I am inconsistent is in the application of my fear of success.  In business and writing, in marriage and motherhood, and every other part of my life I have embraced success.  I expect it as inevitable.  I'm not sure why eating raw foods makes me fearful...will give this more thought...consistently beating a dead horse.  That's my girl.

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